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#and one to MOVE TREES once they are planted
ace-and-ranty · 1 year
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I love Stardew modders so much. I’m giving you all a lil’ kiss on the forehead.
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headspace-hotel · 4 months
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The USAmerican imagination cannot consider land that is multi-purpose.
A corn field is Corn, an endless monoculture, and all other plants must be eliminated. A residential area is Houses, and absolutely MUST NOT!!! have vegetables or fruits or native plant gardens or small livestock. A drainage ditch is only a drainage ditch, and cannot harbor Sedges and native wetland plants, A sports field is for A Sport, and let no one think of doing any other event on that field, shops and storefronts must have their own special part of town that everybody has to drive to, which requires parking lots...and God forbid we put solar panels on roofs or above parking lots or anywhere they can serve an extra purpose of providing shade, instead of using a large tract of perfectly fine land as a "solar farm."
Numerous examples. But it is the most annoying with agriculture. The people who crunch all the numbers about sustainability, have calculated that a certain percentage of Earth's land is "Used up" by agriculture, which is troubling because that leaves less "room" for "Wilderness." It is a big challenge, they say, to feed Earth's humans without destroying more ecosystems.
Fools! Agriculture is an ecosystem—if you respect the ways of the plants, instead of creating monoculture fields by killing everything that moves and almost everything that doesn't. Most humans throughout history, and many humans today, sustain themselves using a mixture of foraging and agriculture, and the two are not entirely different things, because all human lifestyles change the ecosystem, and the inhabitants of the ecosystem always change themselves in response.
Even if you are a hunter-gatherer that steps very lightly in the forest and gathers a few berries and leaves here and there, you are being an animal and affecting all other parts of the ecosystem. By walking, breathing, eating, pooping, drinking, climbing, singing, talking, all of those things affect the ecosystem. If you gather leaves to sleep on, that affects the ecosystem...if you pile up waste, that affects the ecosystem...if you break a tree branch, that affects the ecosystem...if you start a fire, if you create a small shelter, if you cut a path, that DEFINITELY affects the ecosystem.
This idea, that human activity destroys the ecosystem and replaces it with something Else, something Not an ecosystem, is so silly. "But you just said that even the earliest most technologically simple human societies altered their environment!"
Yes, I did. Because we believe that "pre-agricultural" humans could have no effect on their "wilderness" environment, we ALSO believe another false idea: That when humans affect an environment, they destroy "Wilderness" and change it to something else, like Agricultural Land, that can never have biodiversity and never benefit many life forms.
I think it is the European idea of agriculture that it always involves people settling down and relying on a few special plants that are domesticated intentionally and grown in specially dedicated fields. After all, this idea of an agricultural lifestyle, is in contrast with the "hunter-gatherer" lifestyle, which is assumed to be what humans do before they "figure out" agriculture. The European mind imagines "pre-agricultural" folks ignorantly bumbling about, thinking plants and animals conveniently pop out of nothing for their benefit.
Bullshit! I shake my head in disappointment when I see websites describing Native Americans using wild plants as if those plants just-so-happened to grow, when those same wild plants just-so-happen to thrive only in environments disturbed by humans in some way, and just-so-happen to have declined steeply since colonization, and just-so-happen to be nonexistent in unspoiled "Wilderness" locations, and (often) just-so-happen to have an incredibly wide range where they either once were or are incredibly common, making it very...fortunate that they just-so-happen to have a wide range of uses including food, medicines, and materials for clothing and technology.
Accidentally of course, without any human impact from the humans that were impacting everything. /s
"But if it wasn't an accident, how did it happen?" Here is how to understand this idea: Look at the weeds! The weeds will teach you.
Look at the plants you always see growing without being planted around human buildings and roads, and learn their history. Often you will learn that these plants have many marvelous properties, and have actually been used by humans for thousands of years.
In fact, some of the most powerful and difficult to control weeds, were once actually some of the most essential and important plants for human civilizations to depend on. The dreaded Kudzu, in its home in East Asia, was one of the main plants used for clothing for over 6,000 years, and not only that, it has been cultivated for food and medicine for millennia. You can make everything from paper to noodles out of Kudzu! And Amaranth, the most expensive agricultural weed in all the USA, produces edible and healthy grains as well as several harvests of greens per growing season, and several species of the genus have been fully domesticated and formed a staple crop of Mesoamerica.
Meanwhile...some people have come up with this neat "new" idea called Polyculture, which is where you plant a field with two crops at once and somehow get better yields from both of them. WITCHCRAFT! Unrelatedly, there are other ideas like "Cover Crops" and "Agroforestry" that for some reason have the same beneficial effect.
Wow...It turns out, sterilizing the whole environment of every plant except one crop...isn't actually a good way to do agriculture in many places in the world.
Just think about it from an energy point of view...
We have some places used for "Agriculture," where we wring the land as violently as possible to squeeze green vegetation from light energy.
And we have other places for Other uses, where we spend massive amounts of fossil fuels mowing, chopping, poisoning and trimming to STOP the land from producing its incredible bounty of green vegetation.
And in the agricultural fields, we spend even MORE resources killing the unwanted plants that grow spontaneously
This system is hemorrhaging inefficiency at both ends. It simply isn't a one-to-one conversion of land and fossil fuels to food energy. The energy expenditure of agriculture is mostly going into organizing the vegetation's energy into the shape and configuration we want, not the food itself.
In the Americas, indigenous agricultural systems involve using the plants that exist in the environment to construct an ecosystem that both functions as an ecosystem and provides humans with food, clothing, and other important things. This is the most advanced way.
Most of our successful weeds are edible and useful. A weed is simply a plant that is symbiotic with humans. My hypothesis of plant domestication is that it was initiated by the plants, which became adapted to human environments, and humans bred them to be better crops in response. Symbiosis.
Humans did not pick out a few plants special to intensively domesticate out of an array of equally wild plants, instead they just ate, selected, and bred the plants that were best adapted to live near human civilization. That is my guess about how it happened.
Just think about it. Why would you try to domesticate teosinte (Maize ancestor?) It sucks. Domesticated plants in their wild form are usually like "Why would you put hundreds of years of effort into cultivating this?" Personally I think it's because the plant grew around humans and humans ate and used it a lot because it was abundant. So we co-evolved with the plant.
Supporting this hypothesis, there are many crop plants that mutated and evolved back into weeds, like "weedy" rice, "weedy" teosinte, and "weedy" radishes. Also weeds develop similar adaptations to crop plants to survive in the agricultural environment.
Consider Kudzu. Everyone in the USA knows it as an invasive weed, but since ancient times in China, it was a crop that provided people with fabric from its bast fibers, food from its enormous starchy roots, and many medicinal and other uses. Kudzu is not evil, it simply has a symbiotic relationship with humans, and just as any other species might serve as a biological control, the main biological control of kudzu in nature is the human species.
Think of the vast fields and mountain sides of the South swallowed by thick mats of Kudzu covering lumps that used to be trees. Think of the people toiling away to clear the Kudzu, while wearing clothes made of cotton that was grown in a faraway place using insecticides and depleting fresh water, using energy from their bodies that came from crops grown in fields far away.
Now imagine people working to harvest the Kudzu, to cut the new vines and dig up the starchy roots and use the plant the way it is used by the people who know its ways. Imagine the people using the starch from the Kudzu root to make flour and noodles and sweet confections. Imagine workers processing the vines into thread which is woven into fabric. The hillsides and fields flourish with plants that used to be suffocated, and hillsides and fields in faraway places also flourish with their own plants, instead of being made to grow cotton and crops to provide for the needs the Kudzu provides for.
Imagine the future where we accept our symbiotic relationship with the plants!
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“Babe? I’m home.” Simon called out as he trudged through the front door. It had been an exhausting week, and Simon wanted nothing more than to relax with you for the remainder of the weekend.
“Babe?” He called out again, huffing when he didn’t receive your usual cheerful reply.
He made his way into the living room, stopping dead in his tracks upon the sight that greeted him. Your shared living room was littered with holiday decorations- ranging from garlands lining the fireplace, custom make stockings hanging from the mantles, to a bright green fir tree standing tall in the corner of the room.
A small smile made its way to Simon’s lips as he took in the room. He’d not had his home decorated for the holidays for as long as he could remember.
His eyes drifted to the couch, finding you tucked around your German Shepard Riley, with one of Simon’s hoodies engulfing your frame as you slept.
Simon’s heart fluttered at the sight as a small chuckle escaped his lips. He moved to cover you with one of the blankets on the couch, before planting a soft kiss to your temple.
He made his way into the kitchen, stopping when he found something on the table that caught his eye. It was a small ornament, and upon closer inspection, it was a photo of the three of you, Simon, you and Riley taken last holiday season- and the inscription on the bottom read “The Riley’s 2023”
He twirled the ornament around between his fingers, the smile from before not leaving his lips- his heart feeling more full than it had in years. He finally, finally had a family of his own.
For once, Simon Riley found himself excited for the holidays.
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pseudowho · 4 months
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As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???
Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)
I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd
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The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.
The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--
"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--
With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.
"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"
"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."
"Ah...yeah."
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Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.
Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.
"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--
All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.
You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.
"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"
"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."
"Oh. Like...now?"
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"Daddy, watch this--"
One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.
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"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"
A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.
"Daddy, I was jumpi--"
"Hush. Be more careful."
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"I'll race you--"
"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"
A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.
Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.
A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.
"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."
"...sorry daddy."
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You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.
"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.
"What?"
"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."
Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.
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I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.
-- Haitch xxx
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alisonwritesimagines · 2 months
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Wayne Family Garden ~Batmom Imagine~
Summary: Your plan on growing a garden. However, you don’t have a green thumb. Luckily, you know someone who does.
Author’s Note: I'm obessed with the Wayne Family Adventures on WebToons. Like you don't know how obsessed I am with them.
BatFamily Masterlist
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: fluff, Poison Ivy and Harley know the Batfam's identies (its canon)
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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"What do you think Alfred?"
"I think having a lemon tree could really benefit the garden and our groceries," Alfred tells you.
"Maybe we can have an apple tree too?" You said.
"Sounds delightful. And Master Bruce agreed to your garden?"
"Yup. Said we can have it on the side in the backyard. And we can grow whatever we want," you smiled.
"We should start off small then," Alfred said.
"Right. So then a lemon tree, an apple tree, and carrots?" You asked.
"Sounds good to me," Alfred smiled.
You had been growing more bored around your home now that most of your kids were adults and had moved out of the mansion. So after seeing a good amount of gardening TikToks, you wanted to start your own little garden. But there was one slight problem, you didn't know how to garden.
So there was one person you could think of who could help you start off. You didn't want to bother Alfred more than what he has to deal with so you used your husband's technology to find a certain someone.
The apartment complex looked a little run down but yet again, you knew this was where they would be laying low. You knocked on the front door, only to see Harley Quinn opening it up.
"Mrs. Wayne? Whatcha doin here?" Harley asked you.
"Hiya, Harley. I'm looking for Ivy. Is she around?" You asked.
"Yeah. What's going on?" Harley asked.
"Harley. Who is it?" You heard Ivy ask.
"It's Y/n Wayne! Batman's wife!" Harley said excitedly.
"Hi, Ivy. I came here to ask for a favor," you tell her.
"Uh sure. What's up?" Ivy asked.
"I am currently planting a garden at my home but the problem is, I don't know how to garden. I was wondering if you can help me out," you asked her.
"Don't you have a butler who also knows how to garden?" Ivy asked.
"Yes but I don't want to bother him more than my family already has. And besides, I need more females around the house," you mentioned.
"What are you trying to grow?" Harley asked.
"I would like to start off with a lemon tree, an orange tree, and an apple tree. But I know those take a couple years to grow but I would like to begin growing carrots, tomatoes, and green beans as well," you tell her.
"Those are good to start off with," Ivy mentioned.
"Thanks. So will you come by my house with me and help me get started? I have the tools and everything to start off," you asked her.
"Yeah. My schedule is clear for today," Ivy shrugged.
"Thank you! Harley! You can come over too," you invited.
"Oh sweet!"
Whenever it was a light night, meaning that there was barely crime for once in Gotham, the whole family would get together for dinner. However, they were surprised to see two new comers joining you all in dinner.
"I expect you all to behave yourselves for the night. Ivy and Harley are my guests as they helped me with my garden today," you tell your family.
"Yes mom."
"And no hero or villain talk in the table. I would like a dinner where we can just eat like normal people for once," you say as you prepped the table.
During dinner, everyone ate peacefully but kept a close eye on Harley and Ivy. It was mainly you talking about the garden and your plans for it.
"What are you planning on growing in the garden ummi?" Damien asked you.
"I would like a lemon, orange, and an apple tree but I know those take a while to grow. But I'm also planning on growing some carrots, green beans, and tomatoes to start off," you say excitedly.
"Just make sure to follow the instructions I gave you," Ivy said.
"Of course. And I'll call you in case anything happens," you smiled at her.
The next few weeks, you were proud of your work. The trees were starting to form slowly but surely. You kept notes to check your progress as well as making sure everything was going smoothly. So it wasn't a surprise for the batfamily to see Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy come to their house every week to help check on your garden.
"They're growing good," Ivy tells you,
"Thank you!"
"If you want, I can help you speed up the process for the trees."
"I know I should wait but I do want to try baking an apple pie and make my own orange juice."
"As long as you keep maintaining it you should be fine."
"Mmm. Okay. Let's do it!"
Cassandra and Stephanie quickly rushed over to Harley's and Ivy's place with the bag from their mom. It had been a couple weeks since Ivy and Harley last visited you and your garden. Cassandra knocked on the door, waiting for one of them to answer.
"What do you kids want?" Ivy asked as she opened the door.
"wanted us to drop this off to you," Stephanie said as she handed her the bag. Ivy looked into it before smiling. A fresh apple pie along with a pitcher of orange juice and lemonade were placed in the bag.
"Tell her we said thank you."
"We will!"
"Let her know that if she wants to start something new, have her call me," Ivy tells the girls.
"We will!"
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attapullman · 7 months
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Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!
robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew
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“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.
You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago. 
Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”
“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.
The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups. 
As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.
And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?
Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place. 
You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.
“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”
“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.
Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.
When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.
You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”
But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street. 
From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves. 
At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.
“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect. 
The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.
“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”
His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.
Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”
Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.
The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye. 
Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious. 
His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks. 
As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.
Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug. 
The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.” 
A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him. 
You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”
His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.
“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?” 
The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”
You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.
“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”
A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.
You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”
To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.
Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”
By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.
He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen. 
“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.
Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.
Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.
His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.
Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen. 
Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.
He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace. 
“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.
Your mouth can’t open fast enough.
You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.
Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.
When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”
His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”
“You.”
That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”
The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.
“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.” 
You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?
You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.
As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.
You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.
“Did you still want your tea?” 
He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”
Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both. 
When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door. 
Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.
Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.
You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.
When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.
You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.
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see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting
taglist: @callsign-mongoose
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merakiui · 26 days
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winter woes.
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yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, breeding, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied stalking, obsession note - strangely, jade is thrown into his mating season in the middle of winter.
Jade thought it wasn’t so bad when he woke up in a feverish fog. He assumed it would dissipate once he got to moving, but it only seemed to worsen as the day wore on. He trudged through his classes with dimming focus, reasoning that if he wasn’t about to keel over and die he could survive a few hours of lecture.
It was fine. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He’s Jade Leech, Octavinelle’s talented Vice Housewarden! A masterful actor capable of brilliant efficiency, even when he’s at his lowest.
And yet he’s never experienced a day as detrimental as this one. He’s endured his fair share of sleepless nights, stagnant days, and monthly burnout. On some level, Jade suspected it was coming when the frost began to encroach on withered plants and leafless trees. He always finds himself bogged down with an annual case of winter woes. 
This pattern of behavior isn’t any different.
Except it is. Very different, actually. Unlike his previous blues, this one is markedly unique. He’s never been this delirious before, so much so that he staggers about like he’s learning to walk all over again. Winter blankets the world in white, condemning Jade to what he believes is Mother Nature’s padded cell.
Without enough stimulation or spontaneity, how can he possibly function?
Normally, he’d take to trekking in the mountains to clear his head. The biting cold is familiar, a reminder of the comforts of home, but it doesn’t soothe him like it should. He’s restless and itchy, perpetually hot all over. His clothes aren’t helping either, clinging like seaweed. He wants to shred them to pieces and dive into the sea. Or hike in the mountains. Definitely one of those. 
Alas, even if he wanted to scale a mountain, he couldn’t. Not when they’ve called for the possibility of an avalanche.
He is, unfortunately, stuck in the dreaded rubber room with his school uniform for a straitjacket. Only the room itself is made of ice, and it’s unpleasant and isolated. He’s left alone with his thoughts and they’re swirling around his skull in a flurry of snowflakes.
Clothes are truly unbearable… How can land-dwellers possibly endure such constrictive material?
Perhaps he underestimated his own mental fortitude. It’s bad. Very bad. So bad that he’s just as startled as you are when he crosses paths with you in the hall, catches the scent of your shampoo, and sprouts fins. 
“Oh, Jade, your ears!” You’re gesturing at his face with worried urgency. He follows your line of sight and reaches to brush his fingers along the pointed webbing jutting out from the area where his ears ought to be. You take a step towards him and Jade, rather foolishly, takes one back. You blink at him, bewildered. “Is…everything okay? You seem under the weather. Want me to walk you to the infirmary? I’m going that way right now, actually.”
Jade wets his lips and swallows thickly. Did you always smell this nice? No… No, he has to focus! Right. Focus on the issue at hand. His transformation potion must be wearing off. Surely that explains the sudden surprise of… Your hips—were they always shaped so nicely, or is it just an illusion from your uniform slacks?
No, he’s sure of it. Something’s different about you. His nose wrinkles.
Sweeter. That’s it.
You smell sweet like a flower or candy. And your eyes are brighter in this light as they look up at him, glittering like pearls in the deep. You’re wearing the same uniform, but you’ve never looked more appealing. And your hips—
Jade curbs that thought before it can deteriorate his sensibility far past his control. What was the topic of conversation? It’s his turn to respond, isn’t it?
“I’m quite all right. Thank you for your concern. This is merely an error on my part. I’ve neglected the time.”
“Really?” You say it like you don’t believe him. Jade forces a smile, gluing his gaze to your face to avoid looking anywhere else. “It’s not like you to be so forgetful. Geez. Is Azul giving you a break over there?”
He chuckles. “I assure you all is well in my world.”
As it happens, his world is currently tilting and spinning and blurring, messy like a shaken terrarium. Jade’s attempt to excuse himself is made in vain, for he strides past you and immediately stumbles. You hurry to steady him, your fingers wrapped tight around his arm. Your touch sends an unusual electricity bolting up his spine, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wild urge. He wants to push you against the wall, slot his knee between your legs, and bite your lips bloody.
He could do it. He knows your preferences. He knows you like he knows his hand. Intimately acquainted, even if you’re not aware of your second shadow. 
Jade yanks himself free as if the contact is scalding. His heart skips in his chest, frenzied in a way it’s never been before.
He’s had plenty of scandalous fantasies in passing, and he was content to leave them as such. But now…
Sweat beads at his brow and rolls down his back between his shoulders. He needs to shed these layers. A wildfire rages beneath his skin. It’s the middle of winter. Why is he so hot? Surely there’s a logical explanation for…you. Looking at him. You’re looking at him.
Oh, you’re so pretty.
“Jade?” You move in again, lifting your hand to his forehead. This time, before he can jerk backwards, you pull away. “You’re burning up!”
“Is that so? I must not have noticed…”
He has a quick-witted retort to tack onto that sentence, but it’s scrambled on his tongue.
“If I may, (Name), have you always looked so…”
He pauses, tasting the adjective in his mouth. He was certain humans didn’t have the same sort of broadcasters merfolk do—the shifts in behavior that allow for successful mating. Colors and sounds, a duet of language. Special scents and other bodily cues to convey secret messages. A mutual understanding between two. The need to fulfill a biological imperative beneath the sea.
Is that what this is about? He was certain his transformation snuffed that part of his biology. He’s not a mer right now. He’s human. So then why is he feeling so…not human?
Ready is the word he thinks he’s searching for, but he’s starving and so it comes out wrong. 
“Ripe. Like fruit.”
“Uh… No?” You cough out an awkward laugh. If Jade could feel shame, it would be raking its nails across his back. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know what—don’t answer that. Let’s just get you to Professor Crewel. He’ll know what to do.”
Jade spies his reflection in a nearby window. The markings under his eyes are showing through pale skin. There are flecks of scales gathered on his forehead. Mindlessly, he reaches to touch them.
You turn to look at him, and he can parse the shift in your attitude like it’s blood in the water—deliciously potent. He wants to dig his claws into you and never let go. He wants to love you until the very feeling is muddled and you’ve lost sense of what’s healthy and sane. If only you could understand, peer through his eyes for the day, and navigate the labyrinth that is his heart.
“Jade? You coming?”
He already knows what’s happening. He doesn’t need the diagnosis from Professor Crewel. He just needs you.
Before you can continue onwards in your beeline to Professor Crewel’s office, Jade seizes your hand. You don’t flinch, but you do struggle to put your confusion into words. The feeling is almost palpable, clear on your countenance like a cloudless sky. He watches you, trailing his eyes over your face and finding new things to appreciate. If he allows delusion to grip him by the throat, he can pretend the makeup is all for him—a discreet, enticing signal.
He reads it. He listens. He knows, even if it’s the furthest from what he believes it to be.
Jade clasps his hands around yours.
“Um… Okay then.” Your shoulders shudder with laughter. “Is this really you, Jade? This isn’t Floyd putting on an act again, is it?”
He shakes his head, suddenly disgruntled. Why would it be Floyd? Do you want it to be Floyd? His grip on you tightens to a possessive degree. He steps closer, not yet pressing himself against you but edging dangerously close. He doesn’t speak a word when he opens his mouth at you, revealing pearly points set in razored rows. You don’t seem to grasp the meaning behind his gaping maw, and it’s somewhat disheartening.
Logically, he’s aware of your very human ideals—ideals that fail to encapsulate the intricacies of moray courtship. Still, he hopes the sentiment comes through.
“Something wrong with your teeth?” You tilt your head and squint up at him. “They look fine to me.”
Jade shuts his mouth, considering his options. It would be much easier if this was the sea. Then he could present you with hypnotic bioluminescence, drape a chain of sea flowers around your neck, and offer you an entire month’s worth of fish. None of that is very viable on land. At the very least, he could replicate it—take you in a dark room and hope the shine in his eyes is bright enough to entice you, conjure flowers with magic, and scour the Mostro Lounge’s storage for enough food to last you through the season.
Surely the desire I feel for you transcends the great depths of the sea. He breathes out a sad sigh. I want to make you mine. I want you to look at me in the same way I look at you. Won’t you do that for me? Please…
As far as he’s aware, humans follow their own palaver when it comes to romance and attraction. What he’s learned from his time on land is that human courtship is, by his comprehension, excessively complicated. While moray courtship has clear, defined goals, each one outlined in the body language of both parties, humans baffle with the time it takes to secure a mate. Jade watches students get together and fall apart within the span of weeks. It’s fascinating. Dating is almost like a trial run—like testing a new ingredient in a recipe to see if it sweetens or sours the overall dish.
He could have gone that route; he was fully prepared to, but the human and mer sides of his brain are leaving him in a daze. It’s impossible to think like a human when his mer instincts are vibrating so intensely beneath his skin, every part of his deep-sea biology saying he ought to do it the mer way.
So he opens his mouth again.
He’s cheating when he nods at you. Somehow you work out half of his intention.
“My mouth? What about it?” It hits you then, and your eyes widen into the shape of a full moon. “Oh! You want to compare teeth size, is that it?”
Not exactly what he was aiming for, but it has you reciprocating anyway. You open your mouth to show off your teeth, and if Jade was of a more stable mindset perhaps he would have been content to simply observe. He doesn’t expect land-dwellers to know anything more than what’s taught in class.
“What do you think? Mine aren’t as cool as yours,” you say after a moment.
“I think…” He hesitates. The words are jumbled, and he almost says it in mermish. But it’s difficult to produce the syllables with his limited nasal capabilities in this form. A smile curves his lips up, and it’s so similar to Floyd’s dopey grin that it leaves you slack-jawed. “Pretty,” he says with a happy hum. “Very pretty.”
Before you can respond, his hands slide away from yours to secure tightly around your wrists. And then he’s pulling you in the opposite direction, through the main building’s many halls, until he finally arrives at his destination.
You’re tugged into the Hall of Mirrors next. Jade seems to be losing his usual gentlemanly flair, for he issues you an apologetic chuckle as an afterthought. His mer features look more defined now—even his skin tone is darkening to suit the color palette of his mer form. You weren’t in objection before, but now that you find yourself being pulled through the mirror and trapped in the bubble transport with Jade you begin to worry.
“Hey, hold on a minute! Shouldn’t we find Professor Crewel? Your transformation potion—”
The sound of shredded leather disturbs the air. Jade lifts his gloved hands for both of you to survey. His claws have ripped through the material, and he’s grown webbing beneath the tattered remains of his gloves. When he reaches for you, you flinch away.
An uncomfortable quiet falls over the bubble, only bursting once you’re inside Octavinelle Dorm.
Jade’s heart aches when he spies the unease scrawled on your face. Don’t look at me like that. Please, my pearl, don’t fear me. I would never hurt you.
Is it so wrong to want to smother you in an abundance of love? If this kind of love is forbidden on the surface, how is he meant to exist in the same world as you? It was possible for the mermaid princess and her lover. Is this not the same? It’s just love. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Right?
He curls his hands into fists and hopes the stabbing pain of his claws piercing his palms is enough to quell the urge to hold you.
“J-Jade…” Your voice is meek, a mere wobble. “Are you okay?”
He blinks, suddenly aware that blood is oozing from open wounds. “Ah… Forgive me… I’ve shown you such an ugly side.”
“No, I’m sorry! It startled me, that’s all.” You attempt a brave, albeit flat, smile. “I’m not scared. Just…surprised. Is this how all merfolk get when they’re sick?”
Jade wants to understand, but he has never known dread like that before. He’s a predator. He doesn’t need to feel fear when he instills it in others.
Still, it bothers him more than he thought it would. If you fear him… If you can’t present him with a real smile…
Is there even a point if he’s not the reason for your happiness? What is he if not the blight that destroys your flowering radiance?
Without fail, like a cruel cycle destined to burden him, the winter weather evokes morbid gloom. It darkens his consciousness like a shroud over a corpse or a cover on a mirror.
If you’re not scared, why are you keeping your distance? Am I truly so monstrous that you feel the need to cower? My love is sincere. I promise I would never hurt you.
But he would, if given the opportunity. And that’s precisely what he plans to do now.
So it catches him off guard when you surge forward to lace your hands with his. Carmine drips from his claws, pattering the floor in tiny drops. He stares at you with pupils blown wide.
“You’re my friend. Why would I find this side of you ugly? Just because you’re not at your best doesn’t mean it’s weird or bad.”
And isn’t that the worst? 
Jade’s lungs constrict when he kisses you. You try to jerk away, but he holds firm. Your lips part only briefly, and you manage a squeak of protest before he reclaims the space with ravenous intent. Your whines are swallowed whole as he all but devours your mouth like a famished animal. Sharp teeth click against your blunt ones. Jade laps at the back of your throat, savoring every gasp. You press against his chest in a weak struggle.
“S-Sto—wait. Jade—”
But even those words become appetizers for the feast that’s soon to follow.
It’s because I’m your friend that you place your trust in me. Thus, it will hurt all the more when I take that trust and crush it beneath my heel.
He’s never felt more alive, his body buzzing with exhilaration. When he pulls back, breathless and panting, you’re still reeling. He doesn’t give you any time to recuperate, for he tugs you along down the shadowed halls of Octavinelle.
You dig your heels against the tile. “Please wait! I don’t understand. What are you—”
You’re yanked forward again, and the rest of that sentence trickles into reserved silence. You hurry to keep pace with Jade as he drags you towards a door. A large indoor pool, dimly lit by the lights above, greets the both of you once it’s opened.
With furrowed brows, you glance at Jade. He’s looking right back, but it’s a strange gaze. He’s ready to pounce, just barely holding on to nonexistent restraint, every muscle riddled with tension.
“Sometimes we’re permitted to use this area for personal reasons,” Jade explains, shutting and locking the door with magic.
“Personal reasons… Like what?”
He smiles, watching the shiver roll though you. “Nothing against the rules, I assure you.”
“Right… Look, Jade, at the very least…” You wring your hands. “Um… Could you at least get in the water? I’m worried your potion’ll wear off any second now, and there’s no way I can lift you myself.”
“Your concern is much appreciated.”
He places one webbed hand on your shoulder, the other situated at your lower back. In one fluid swoop, he gathers you in his arms. You don’t have time to yell at him to put you down because he’s already striding over to the poolside.
“I do hope you’ll forgive my temperament. I confess I’m a touch impatient.” A lopsided smile strains on his flushed face. 
“Jade, don’t you dare—”
Your scream cuts through the air, echoing off the walls. He tosses you into the water without decorum. Jade sheds what’s left of his already tattered uniform and dives in just as the rest of his mer features overtake his human shell. Salt sprays around you in a resounding splash when you, coughing and spluttering, break the surface.
Jade watches your feet kick back and forth as you paddle towards the edge. The motions are hypnotic. What pretty, fragile limbs…
Gliding through the water with minimal effort, he circles you like a moon hopelessly devoted to remaining within your orbit. His hand wraps around your ankle, and he pulls you beneath the water to meet him. You struggle in his grasp, kicking and thrashing, but he doesn’t let that deter him.
Jade cradles your face in his hands. “So pretty… Like a pearl,” he clicks, his words musical and foreign to your human ears. “My treasure.”
He captures your lips in a mystifying kiss. Clumsily, his deft fingers work to peel your clothes from your person. You push back just as your bra is unclasped, gasping for air, and he allows you to surface after nearly a minute. He comes up with you, drunk off the taste of you. The world could be ending just beyond the confines of this pool and it wouldn’t even matter to him. Not right now, at least. Not when he’s at the verge of vehemence. So close. He’s so close.
“W-What’s up with you?” You cling to the pool wall, chest heaving. He follows your hand as it moves to cover your mouth. “You’re not usually like this.”
“Does it bother you?” He swims closer, effectively pinning you to the wall. He presses his nose to the dip between shoulder and neck and hums. With a boyish giggle, he smiles again. “You smell so pretty…”
“Jade…” You pat his head. “Jade.”
“Hm?”
“I… I’m flattered. Really, I am. But we can’t do this.”
He detaches himself to look at you. “We can’t?”
This time, unlike in the past, he isn’t playing dumb for the fun of it.
“I’m sorry, Jade. I think you’re a great friend, but that’s it. I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t let me.”
So that’s how you feel.
He’s cold-blooded by nature, but somehow this confession chills him more than the Northern waters ever could.
Just a friend.
“Ah. Is that so? My apologies for overstepping a boundary.”
You turn towards the wall to hide your exposed chest. “I-It’s fine…”
He admires the water droplets cascading down the slope of your shoulders. Winter woes and mating season make for a devastating combination, and Jade is the tsunami who will tear through you with reckless, remorseless abandon.
A clawed finger taps at your cheek. Defiant, you keep your gaze pinned ahead. “Are you, by chance, embarrassed?”
“O-Of course I am! Please close your eyes and don’t peek until I’m out of the pool.” With one arm held over your chest, you fish through the water in search of your waterlogged clothes.
Jade takes hold of your empty hand, marveling at how small yours is compared to his. So precious. I could hold this hand forever…
“There’s no need to be shy. Nudity is commonplace where I’m from.”
“Well, it’s not like that up here. Not always, at least.” You swallow thickly. “Please don’t look…”
“That’s tantamount to asking someone not to admire artwork in a museum.” Gently, he coaxes you away from the wall and into his chest. “You deserve to be cherished in full. Is that not why land-dwellers sculpt the human body?”
“That’s different!”
“How so?”
Please, (Name), you’re driving me wild. Please just let me love you. Please. It’s all I want.
“Most of them are representations of deities and other important symbols.”
“In that case, I am but your humble devotee.”
You roll your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”
“No? Then how about this instead?”
Jade turns over on his back in the pool. You’re tugged along for the ride, settled on his chest like a turtle resting on driftwood. His arms wrap around you. Stubborn—an adjective known to describe Jade on occasion.
“Now I won’t see a thing.”
His smile is too cheeky for your liking, but that’s the last thing you’re thinking of. His hands creep down the expanse of your back. You yelp when he squeezes your asscheek. 
“H-Hey! Watch where you’re touching!” Your expression is meant to be threatening, but all it does is earn you a gentle laugh.
“Forgive me. My hand slipped.”
“Yeah, right. You’re not slick.”
He doesn’t dignify that with a retort. Instead, he floats aimlessly on his back. You press yourself to his toned body and silently hope he can’t feel your hardened nipples.
“Can you bring me back to the edge?”
“I can.”
Just not the edge you’re thinking of.
“Will you?”
“Eventually.”
It’s spoken like a promise, a sweet sigh. You don’t believe him for a second.
Once more, his hand dips lower than it should to rub against your bare pussy. You flinch out of your skin, sucking in a deep breath. His whimsical laughter is more grating than nails on a blackboard.
“Oops.”
You want to throw yourself into the water, but that would risk giving him an unintentional show and that’s the last thing you want. So you squeeze your eyes shut and, body taut, lie still. 
“Can you—will you tell me what’s going on?”
“I will.”
You wait for him to continue, but he chooses to bask in the silence instead. If you weren’t trapped in his embrace, you’d throttle him. Or try to, at least. He’s all muscle in this form, and it would be so easy for him to subdue you if he felt so inclined. The result of a wrestling match with a moray isn’t exactly in your favor.
Groaning in defeat, you play right into his game: “Can you tell me?”
“Allow me to show you.”
He propels himself backwards, his tail fin cutting smoothly through the water. You’re taken from the shallows to the deepest end of the pool. His hands find your waist and, with startling ease, he helps you up so that you’re sat just above his slit. It brushes against your pussy every time you shift. Minding his claws, he digs his fingers into your thighs to keep you still. You hurry to cover yourself with your arms, hoping to preserve what’s left of your decency.
“Many mers prefer spring and summer climates.”
“Because the water’s warmer?”
“That’s part of it.” His hands crawl up your waist to close around your arms. Gently, he pulls them away from your chest. His eyes stick to your breasts, but you can’t muster the courage to fight him. “The water is warm and food is plentiful. The perfect time to find a willing mate.”
“So this is—you’re in…heat, basically?”
“It’s rather unbearable if left untreated.”
“You say that like it’s an illness…” Shaking your head, you sigh and offer a sympathetic grimace. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can help. I don’t know the first thing about moray mating!”
“I wouldn’t say that. You possess all the proper equipment. It’s merely a matter of body language, really. Think of it like dancing,” he assures, petting your inner thigh. You watch his fingers inch closer and closer to your pussy, and with an embarrassed gasp you place your hand over it. “Won’t you be a dear friend and help a poor moray in need? I would be very grateful to have your assistance. In fact, I would be in your debt. Isn’t that most advantageous?”
“No way! Ask someone else.”
“I would if I could, but this isn’t the type of issue one can treat so carelessly. Selecting a mate is of great importance in the sea.”
“So go to the sea and do it.”
“We’re already there.” He chuckles at the dubious glower you give him. “As it happens, Octavinelle’s surrounding territory is entirely oceanic. How fortunate for us.”
“Why does it have to be me?”
My dear pearl, I treasure you something fierce, but you’re wearing my patience painfully thin.
“Why not?”
“Didn’t you just say picking a mate is super special?”
He hums, wondering if you’re feigning ignorance for the sake of the situation or if you’re genuinely this lost. It’s likely the latter. After all, you accepted his invitation to mate without even knowing it.
“It’s a special occasion, yes. Many mers have new partners every summer. Sometimes they remain and other times the tide carries them along, bringing in new opportunities with every changing season.”
“And finding the one who sticks is the goal?”
“For some of us.”
“So what about you?” You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “You’re speaking for everyone but yourself, Jade.”
Jade flushes. Your perceptive words are pointed, stabbing through thick skin to reach his heart. It isn’t often someone parts all of his curtains to peer at the truth.
“I would like that,” he admits, soft and sweet, almost demure. “Someone who sticks, as you’ve put it.”
You watch his face carefully, but there’s no lie to find. With his pinched brow and shimmering coloration, so much so it’s as if he’s been set aflame, you steel your nerves. He brightens the dark pool with his light, a beacon on still waters. Jade looks right back. The eye contact is heady—more hypnotic than a swaying pendulum. He waits for you to make the first move, as is customary in his courtship, but when you don’t react he begins to suspect it’s the opposite for yours.
But then you find your voice. So words are valued in human courtship. I see…
“If I help with this… W-What exactly happens? What does it mean?”
Jade knows his pearl isn’t stupid, but sometimes he really has to wonder.
“It means—” he takes the hand that had been previously protecting your nudity and pulls it away, fingers intertwining— “we would copulate like every animal does.”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“I’ll be very gentle.”
“Still…”
“You have my word.”
“I know. I understand. But—”
“It’s my first time as well.”
You stare at him, astounded by the revelation. “Really?”
“Indeed. So I ask that you forgive my boorish insistence. I’m usually very prepared for my season, so it’s a shock it’s come so early.”
“Yeah, that’s weird. I wonder if it’s because you’re a human. Maybe something with your transformation?” Your breath catches in your throat when he presses two slender fingers against your clit. “H-Hold on… If you touch there—”
Jade’s mismatched eyes sparkle when he looks at you, wet with tears. “Please,” he murmurs, resting his head back against the water. “Please, (Name)…”
You’ve never known Jade to cry or beg outright, let alone utter that single word in such a submissive tone. He’s so vulnerable, an image curated for this very occasion. Not that this is imperative information you absolutely must know.
With slumped shoulders, you glance elsewhere. “I’m not so sure…”
Jade considers himself fortunate to have his wits about him, otherwise he would have already had you plastered to the pool tiles, his cock thrust up in your tight pussy.
“I understand my size in this form may seem rather intimidating, but I’m still myself.”
“I know. But…”
“You can lead. I’ll follow. Almost like a dance.” Taking hold of your hips, he rocks you back and forth as if you’re a doll. Your cunt brushes against his slit and, though it isn’t nearly as euphoric as the actual ordeal, it still sends a wave of carnal relief washing over him. He hums pleasantly, gills fluttering. “Mhm… Like so. It’s simple, isn’t it? Nothing to fear.”
You place your palms against his chest to brace yourself. A reedy breath shakes through you. Jade can see the gears turning. And—oh—how he wishes to be able to poke around your head to understand what it is you’re working through. He’s certain he’d be walking on air if he could hear your innermost monologues: To love or not to love Jade Leech… Or, at present, this would be a better and very humorous phrasing of your secret dialogue: To fuck or not to fuck Jade Leech… 
Even if you don’t love him now, you will later. Just as all life in his terrariums inevitably blooms, so, too, will your affection for him. Patient and persistent care will get him far. He’s sure of that.
You shiver above him, face scrunched and bottom lip bitten to muffle your musical moans. He doesn’t bother hiding his very obvious enjoyment as he guides you along until, eventually, your hips move on their own accord. You grind down against his slit, panting wetly, and he watches your lashes flutter, beautiful like butterfly wings. He admires the divine softness of your nudity, picturesque like that of the Renaissance.
No matter how delicious you are on the eyes, how electrifying it is to have your body pressed to his, it’s still not enough. Jade has half a mind not to buck up to meet your dripping pussy halfway, even if his every sense is telling him he should. Too much force and he’d throw you off into the pool; there’s no telling what he’d do if you were in the water, fully at his mercy. So he allows you to have your fun, deems it polite that you find your end first before he follows. He has to remind himself that you’re not a mer and, thus, you won’t find it very appealing if he succumbs to animalistic urges.
Humans like gentle creatures. Jade is not a gentle creature by nature, but he enjoys masquerading as one.
If it were up to Jade, he would have just taken you for himself ages ago. The minute you looked him in the eyes, he would have grabbed your face in both hands and yanked you up to smash his mouth to yours. And then you’d know there’s more beyond that curtain of placidity.
But that’s not the approach he wants to take.
What he really wants, right now and in this moment, more than anything, is to be inside you, pump you so full of himself that you’ll feel bloated like a whale carcass. Sink his teeth in your throat and taste the blood puddling beneath. Chew you out like you’re nothing more than a squeak toy and he’s your wildly disobedient dog. Dig his claws into your thighs until red ribbons slide down broken skin and cloud the water.
Your yelp brings him back to the present. For a strained second, he thinks he’s hurt you—gone too far and chased you away before the game could even begin. But the source of your startled reaction is easy to pinpoint, for it’s currently prodding at your folds.
“W-What’s that?” you ask around another gasp.
More of Jade’s prehensile cock wriggles free from the safety of his slit. He squeezes his eyes shut to collect himself, hissing through his teeth.
“Most mers are equipped with—mmh—with both sets of…anatomy…” His mind is whirling. He can’t finish that thought. Does it even matter? You’ll understand without the explanation. “It won’t hurt… You can touch it.”
You shake your head and—sevens, you’re lucky he loves you so much or else he wouldn’t have the foresight to be mindful of your inability to breathe underwater. What he’d give to take you below the surface and ignore the world passing above—to spend what little eternity he has rutting into you, tails twining, mouths meeting…
“I shouldn’t… T-That’s your…thing.”
He wasn’t sure you could get cuter, but you do. Surprises are endless with you. He could never tire of this.
“Of course it is. How else am I to copulate without it?” he replies smartly. “It’s called breeding season for a reason, my dear.”
You lift your hips slightly to avoid the tip searching for a home within your gummy depths. Panic paints itself on your face. “W-Wait! You can’t—”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself moments ago. I promise you this will feel even better once it’s inside.”
“That was before I—b-before you…” You swallow thickly, stumbling over your tongue. “There’s no way I can—it looks…too big.”
“Any size is going to seem so if you’ve never taken it before.”
Jade presses two fingers inside your pussy and spreads it. Slick strings from the opening, coating his digits in your arousal. You stiffen and hide behind your hands.
Aah, if only I could devour you right here and now… You’re just too adorable. Are you doing this on purpose?
“You needn’t fret. If my fingers slide in like so, then I’m certain it will be the same for my—”
“I don’t know how mers do it, but if it’s anything like humans…” You shake your head again, adamant. “I don’t wanna get pregnant.”
That’s unavoidable, he wants to say, but that would serve to scare you away.
“We’re incompatible.” Even I’m not certain of that, but it must be false if the mermaid princess could start a family with her human. “Therefore, the risk is nonexistent.”
“Are you sure?”
Not in the slightest.
“Quite.”
Apprehensive, you still refuse to lower yourself onto him. He’s aching, desperate and near-deranged from waiting, and if he were still in his human form he’d be sweating out of his skin. Jade grabs your hips again and, somewhat forcefully, brings you down to meet his tip.
“Please,” he stresses, putting on his best, most convincing pout. “Please, (Name), won’t you help me? I fear I can’t endure any more of this torture.”
You open your mouth, but a trembling breath slips out in place of a protest. Jade’s cock presses against your pussy, gradually delving inside. You almost flop on top of him, the air knocked out of your lungs as he spears you open. Jade grits his teeth. His claws rake across your sides. He has to remain calm, but how can he do that when he’s finally inside you after months of fantasizing? He knows now that his hand could never act as a substitute for the real thing.
To think he was missing something as grand as this all along! No amount of warmth could ever compare to you. You’re an angel who’s just taken him to Heaven.
You gasp again when he slams you down without warning. “Ooh…”
He heaves a shaky, satisfied sigh. Tears dot his lash line. He’s never known relief so strong. It wraps tightly around his cock, squeezing like a vise. If not your mind, your body definitely agrees to this connection. You’ve taken him so well. Surely you wanted this all along. It was just convoluted courtship, a messy tangle of misunderstanding. You want him to knock you up—to stuff you over and over until you can’t fit anything else.
Oh, if only he had eggs. If only he could give you a clutch.
Next time, he thinks, and he means it.
“See?” he says, finding his voice. It comes out breathless, like he’s just been squeezed dry. Not yet. Soon, though. He’s sensitive, and it betrays whatever image he hoped to curate by seeming unbothered. You’re supposed to fall apart first, yet here he is on the verge of coming undone. “You’ve fit every inch. I surmise you could fit even more.”
“I don’t want to!” You lift your body, but it’s a silly endeavor. His cock twitches and curves up against your walls. You and Jade groan in unison, your eyes squeezed shut. “We should’ve just gone to—haa—Professor Crewel and let him handle this…”
“Magical intervention would only pause the inevitable. These cycles are easier to manage as they happen. And this—” he helps you grind down against him, to which you do with startling obedience (but then perhaps he’s just strong enough to manhandle and pretend it’s compliance)— “is the best medicine.”
His webbed hand closes around one of your breasts. It’s soft and springy in his grasp. He pinches your nipple experimentally, and you clench around him.
“Ah, do you like being touched here?”
“Mmh—no… Not there. Don’t—ooh!”
“Or perhaps here?” he asks, circling your clit.
“Stop—you can’t…”
“But I already am.”
You muster the energy to glare halfheartedly, but it soon unravels when he drags you up and down once more. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, every lewd, wet slap an addition to your cries. Jade wonders if this is what true inner peace is, for he’s never been more elated. So utterly, indescribably relieved.
You’re just what he needs to weather this cruel winter.
Jade’s mind, once so organized, is a chaotic scramble. You’ve always occupied a majority of his thoughts, but now you’re made front and center. Everything revolves around you at this moment. He even tries to sync his breathing with yours, if only to feel closer to you. As if this bodily connection isn’t already close enough.
You happen to glance at him then. There’s a glaze to your gaze that wasn’t there before. He admires the way it makes you look—the softness in your eyes and the subtle part of your lips. You appear so blissful while you rock yourself on his cock, dragging your hips in jerky motions. He doesn’t think twice about the sloppy nature of your union, for he moves with a singular goal in mind.
He reaches without meaning to, searching for your heartbeat so that it can align with his, and you squeak in surprise when you’re pulled against his chest. Jade’s reminded you’re not a mer when he tries to wrap his tail around your nonexistent one, feeling legs kick out instead. Just like that, ripples run across tranquil waters as you’re flipped over.
Ah. I was too hasty.
You break the surface, coughing and spluttering. He mourns the disconnect immediately, yearning for your warmth again. When he comes up to join you, he’s met with a splash.
“A-At least warn me before you do that!” You mumble the rest of your disappointment, but Jade’s keen ears pick it up anyway. “I didn’t even get to finish…”
Jade chuckles and wipes water from his eyes. His face is bright, burning with joy. “My apologies. I may have gotten carried away.”
“Obviously.” You huff. “Now can you bring me to the edge?”
He winds around you. “It would be my pleasure.”
You’re pressed against the pool wall, legs spread and wrapped around his waist. He braces himself on either side of you, his fingers curling around the ledge. With how strong his grip is, it’s a shock the tiles haven’t cracked under the pressure. You avoid his stare while he pushes in. He listens to your breath stutter, and that’s all it takes to shatter his self-control. He draws away, savors the confusion polluting the air, and then snaps his hips forward to fill you with every inch of his strange, inhuman cock. A strangled moan rips from your throat and you throw your head back, deflating flatly against the floor.
Jade’s brows knit together. He bows his head, gasping into your neck. His teeth are centimeters from unmarked flesh. He wants to bite you, but the sensation of your velvety walls wrapped around his cock is so distracting. He thinks he might faint. It feels too good. So warm. So wet. So tight. Is this really what humans feel like on the inside? Are they always so soft? He feels boneless as he rolls his hips, numb and dumb, mindless like an animal.
That’s really all he’s ever been: an animal enthralled, his sights forever locked on you. He’d do anything to get you to look at him.
Your arms snake around him, and you cling so sweetly, your nails scraping at his back, that he almost cums right then. Your voice is in his ears, wanton and whispery.
“J-Jade… Aah, Jade…” You hold firmly, unyielding, and chant his name like it’s something holy. “Oh, please, Jade!”
You were so averse before. Now look at you. You’re so cute. The cutest, in fact. I want to make you mine and lock you away forever. Your voice, your body, your smile, your everything… It would be mine to admire. A fascination reserved specially for me.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asks, tracing your cheek with a claw.
A fond smile graces his face. You blink up at him. Tears track down your cheeks, but he knows they aren’t woeful. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is. You want him. You like him. You have no choice.
“Feels full…”
“Does it?”
“Mhm.”
That angelic smile fades into something wicked and proud. Full. You’re full. Full of him and, very soon, full of as many loads as he cares to give.
His hand dips between your bodies to nudge at your clit. You choke around a bawdy moan. If he fools himself, he imagines your parted lips are mirroring the same invitation he voiced to you earlier. Maybe it really is. Maybe you’ve finally understood this facet of his language. 
Hypnotized, Jade watches your lips. He doesn’t even register he’s leaning in. You struggle somewhat, but he just kisses you harshly. His tongue slithers past your lips to explore the insides of your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders.
I love you. I love you. I love you and need you and want you. You’re all mine. Finally mine.
Saliva dribbles from your lips when he pulls back. His eyes are blown wide.
All mine.
When he leans in for another kiss, this one more dizzying than the last, he presses his hips to yours, aiming to get as close to your womb as possible. He needs to. Needs to be deeply acquainted with your insides. Needs to flood your empty womb with enough cum to guarantee pregnancy. Needs to knock you up and watch you swell with his child so that you’ll be even softer than you are now. Oh, the beauty of it all is too tantalizing! You’d look so cute, maternity wear stretched taut around your gravid belly. And your tits would grow fat and heavy with milk. He can already picture it: You’d fluster when you leak through your shirt, even more so when he takes your teat in his mouth and drinks his fill. He wonders if you’d call him gross, a pervert, a freak… Would you do so if he asked?
Would you hate him if you knew all of the depraved fantasies that flit around in his head?
Maybe. The lack of linear clarity excites him. Endless possibilities. He wants to know all of them.
He wants to—
With a wheeze, he cums quick and hard, lashes fluttering and vision whiting out. Your body flinches beneath him, caught in the throes of pleasure as you, too, ride out an orgasmic wave.
He comes to moments later, his heart racing, and rests his forehead against yours.
“That’s…it, right?” you mumble, running your fingers through matted hair. “It’s over, isn’t it?”
Jade tries a shy smile. “On the contrary, we’re only just beginning. A mer’s season isn’t over until they’ve emptied everything, heart and soul, into their mate.”
Can he really call his dick his heart and soul? Maybe. It sickens him with a wild delight.
No matter how many rounds, he’s going to love you until you’re thoroughly worn out.
You don’t have a choice.
But then you already love him, don’t you?
You will by the end of this.
And suddenly he doesn’t feel so bad anymore. Suddenly, he’s no longer embroiled in the sticky shackles of winter woes.
822 notes · View notes
yrbladie · 7 months
Text
♡ ゚˖ ॱ ▎WHEN THEY LOSE YOU ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱
˖ ࣪ ayato, diluc, kaeya, neuvillette, zhongli
warnings :angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of death and body (yours), sad bois, some have quite a comforting ending, others not so much, gn! reader, established relationship, implied marriage (ayato, diluc, zhongli), reader is called 'beautiful' (kaeya), spoiler free, non fluent writer
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ㅤHe doesn't weep at first. Don't get him wrong, though, it's just that how could he ever fathom the thought of not having you by his side anymore?
ㅤYou were taken from his arms so suddenly that he wondered if you were ever real since the start, or only a fragment of his imagination, something that had always only belonged to his most beautiful dreams.
ㅤThe only way he knew you were indeed real was by the way people would talk behind his back when they thought he wasn't paying attention, talking about how sloppy he had become. Or the way he would still find small bits of you sprawled over his desk. Trinkets you gave him, and the letters you had sent to him the last time you went to visit your homeland for a week, knowing your lover would miss you too much.
ㅤIt suddenly dawns on him at that moment. How you were not there anymore, how he would never see you again, see your bright and beautiful smile or hear your giggle at his poor cooking skills.
ㅤAt that moment when he suddenly misses you, Ayato gets up and goes to visit you. In a place he never thought he would see you. Buried under the Sakura tree you planted with him last summer, the one where you both had wished for it to be as eternal as your love for each other.
ㅤHe sees your grave filled with flowers and gifts from the people you had known, and even finds the bouquet of flowers Thoma had sent under his name. And he kneels beside it, staring at your name written there.
ㅤHe still felt guilty, that he was not there for you when you needed him the most. That he was busy with work above anything else again. He could have protected you oh so easily, and he wasn't there.
ㅤ"I hope you can forgive this stupid lover of yours, my dear."
ㅤForgive him for everything. Forgive him for not loving you better, and for not being strong enough to be there when you died nor when you were buried.
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ㅤAyato now knew, dreams are never meant to last.
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ㅤWhen people saw you both together on the streets, with Diluc carefully holding your hand or touching the small of your back to guide you through the streets, like you were made of the finest porcelain, everyone thought they were going crazy.
ㅤThere was no way, the master Diluc Ragnvindr, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt, unmatched in every possible way, had gotten himself a lover.
ㅤWhen you arrived it was like a breath of fresh air for everyone who knew Diluc. You made him a different man, made people see a different side of him Diluc himself doubted existed.
ㅤAnd you were everything to him. Until the fateful day you were forcibly taken from him.
ㅤBut still, he couldn't hope to grieve, he had no time to let himself stop and rest, not even for a minute. In a minute so many things can happen, just like in a minute you were gone.
ㅤDiluc still had Mondstadt to protect, and he would focus solely on that for as long as there was still air in his lungs. Even if his torn heart still churned in pain everyday.
ㅤEven if in the darkest hours of the night, just before dawn, he would still sit alone in his dimly lit room, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. The walls of his manor, once filled with laughter and love, now seemed to echo with the emptiness of his loss. The air was heavy with the scent of fading memories.
ㅤEverything in your shared room is a bittersweet reminder of the warmth that had once been, now slipping through the cracks of time.
ㅤOutside, the world moved on, without you. And Diluc couldn't understand it, for his world was you. Every moment without you felt like an eternity.
ㅤAnd in those short moments he wept. Letting the pain flow freely, as if by releasing it, he could somehow reach across the chasm that separated you both. And he still could somehow feel your presence in brief moments, a soft whisper in the breeze or a fleeting glimpse in a dream.
ㅤDiluc had experience in mourning, and he knew that one day, the sharpness of his pain might dull, but his love for you would remain eternally vibrant, a testament to the life you had shared.
ㅤIn his own way, he would carry on, honoring your memory with each step forward, holding you close in the chambers of his heart, as he navigated the path of grief, one tear and one memory at a time.
ㅤIn that way, Diluc could forever hold you close to his heart somehow. The idea that you would have liked that he kept protecting those you had come to love, gave him comfort as he got up for another day.
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ㅤYou were his first, but also his last.
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ㅤOh, to be loved by the Cavalry Captain, with his deceiving smiles and well thought words. People used to call him such a heartbreaker before you came along and showed to all that Kaeya Alberich could be so much more than that.
ㅤIt seemed like he always had a smile reserved only for you. Different from the grins and crooked smiles he gave for others. With you nothing was ever fake, you had managed to tear down the walls he built to keep himself safe each and every time, no matter how much he tried to keep you at an arm's length.
ㅤBefore Kaeya even noticed you had already made a home in his heart and had no plans of leaving.
ㅤBut of course, fate had always found its way to mock him. He could but only watch as your life slipped past his fingers like sand, no matter how much he held onto you and begged the skies not to take you. Not you too.
ㅤIn the end, Kaeya still had to carry back your lifeless body to Mondstadt, back to your home where you belonged.
ㅤBut did he still belong there now? He was once again reminded of his purpose, the destiny that hung heavily above his head, like a death sentence forever haunting and taunting him. A destiny he just couldn’t seem to escape.
ㅤCursed to loneliness, to destruction. He should have known he didn’t deserve all the happiness you had brought along with your love to his wretched life.
ㅤYou had slipped away, leaving behind a void that seemed insurmountable. In the beginning, Kaeya refused to acknowledge the cruel twist of fate. He clung to the hope that this was all a nightmare, a cruel illusion that would dissipate with the morning light.
ㅤDays turned into nights, and reality set in, stubborn and unyielding. The denial that had once shielded him from the harsh truth began to crumble like a fragile dam battered by the relentless waves of sorrow.
ㅤHe still remembered everything about you. While others would talk about how sweet you were to everyone, Kaeya would remember the laughter shared on lazy Sunday mornings, the whispered promises exchanged under a blanket of stars, and the simple joys of a life built together.
ㅤHe still had your portrait on his desk, a painful reminder of how beautiful you looked when you smiled up at him. And he still wondered how you were. Are you happy now, wherever you are? Are you safe?
ㅤOr do you miss him like he misses you?
ㅤKaeya only found solace on those lonely starry nights, where he laid by himself on the grassy field he always hated, saying the grass always got stuck at his hair as you laughed, calling him such a drama king.
ㅤAnd as the first rays of dawn began to set in, he smiled.
ㅤThe pain remained, a constant companion, but it transformed into a tribute—a testament to a love that transcended the boundaries of mortality. With a heavy heart, he got up, in a silent acknowledgment that life, though forever altered, would continue.
ㅤHe would carry your cherished memories with him into an uncertain tomorrow. With a newfound strength—a resilient ember burning in the ashes of loss, Kaeya had to carry on.
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ㅤEven if his fate overtakes him once more one day, the whispers of your voice, urging him to embrace life would always remind him that there was something out there worth fighting for. And that one day, when his body and heart rests for one last time, he will meet you again.
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ㅤThe skies of Fontaine have never been cloudier than since the day you died. The rain poured down, seeming endless. Like a mourning prayer for another loss the nation held.
ㅤYour funeral was quiet and quite lonely. You had not really been a person that went out each and everyday, or that easily befriended all that you met through your day. You were a common person, like any other in Fontaine, maybe just a little weird with your outlander ways.
ㅤBut Neuvillette still loved you anyway.
ㅤYour love for each other was nothing grand nor loud. It was almost timid, but shined brightly like an unwavering ember.
ㅤSo it didn't come as a surprise that no one knew about your relationship with each other. Neuvillette was, before anything, an important and key figure in Fontaine, his every move scrutinized under the city's gaze, yet whose true emotions remain hidden behind a mask of stoicism.
ㅤEven to the end, he couldn't even attend your funeral. Watching from the sidelines, like an outsider. He watched as your loved ones paid their respects, leaving their flowers and good wishes that you now may be safe, in the arms of the gods.
ㅤNeuvillette wanted to scoff at this. The gods were silent as their people suffered under their gaze. And most of all, there was no space for people like you on their golden mighty thrones.
ㅤWhen everyone parted and left only your lonely tombstone, did Neuvillette finally came to pay his own respects as the rain fell heavier, a reflection of how he felt inside. Like a storm that could never break free from the clutches of a well maintained facade of a composed judge.
ㅤYou made him so vulnerable as each time you touched his skin, his heart longed for more of you, with feelings he couldn't understand.
ㅤIf only he had noticed sooner, if only he had met you sooner.
ㅤIf only you were still here. To show him comfort once more.
ㅤBut as the calm and collected Iudex wept by the lonely grave, you were still gone.
ㅤAnd in the next day and even the next after that, every day became an act. An imperturbable, endless theatrical piece. Worthy of even being presented at the opera house.
ㅤAnd as Neuvillette still conducted each trial with unperturbed accuracy, the outside seemed to have forgotten about you. But not him, never.
ㅤHe still heard your voice, just outside his office, while you laughed with the Melusines. He still asked for two cups of tea to be prepared and people wondered who the other cup was for. And he still had the official documents where you accidentally doodled on and had apologized profusely for doing it, but Neuvillette had never held it against you.
ㅤAnd he still loved you. Each day when the rain started again, the pitter patter sound followed the judge as he disappeared through the corners of Fontaine to find you once again.
ㅤHis life was destined to be eternal, and so was his love for you, despite the fact you weren't by his side anymore.
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ㅤAnd as Neuvillette still found small flowers and trinkets left on your grave, he knew he would not be the only one to forever remember about you.
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ㅤThe God of Contracts was no stranger to loss and to mourning. He himself had buried more friends than he could count.
ㅤHe had an immortal soul and an unyielding memory. His friends were forever reminders on his everyday life, that he got to walk the places they never had a chance to see.
ㅤEvery time, he caught himself reminiscing about you, about your shared laughter under the bustling night time of Liyue, and the dreams over breakfast.
ㅤAnd how fate took you away from him.
ㅤThe town now seemed to be filled with a haunting silence, even if nothing much had changed. The vendors still called for him to eat and buy their products, he still watched the same plays and stories. But now every corner held a memory, a reminder.
ㅤDays turned to nights, and nights into days, but the pain persisted, insistently. Zhongli found solace in the shadows of the past, where memories of your happiness still lingered like a sweet melody.
ㅤHe never thought of himself as someone to be stuck in time. But your presence and your loss seemed to have made an ever deeper impact on his life than he initially thought.
ㅤAs the years went by, he would still wait for you. With the hope and the heartache that the skies would relent at his incessant prayers and return you to his arms, in another form, in another life, it didn't matter.
ㅤStill, he knew he was not alone. Hu Tao would pat him in the back gently in an almost nudging manner every day, encouraging him to go out again, to rest more. And slowly Zhongli felt like he could gather the shattered pieces of his heart again. Like his wounded soul still had a purpose.
ㅤEven if his body and mind eroded until there was nothing more left of him, he thought that all the memories of you would still be his most cherished treasures.
ㅤAnd so, in the quiet town where love once blossomed and sorrow cast its shadow, Zhongli would learn once more to carry the weight of loss with gentleness. The stars above forever witnesses of his eternal and enduring love for you.
ㅤIn the small shrine he built above your grave, where Zhongli could still feel your presence sometimes, through your pictures and the incense. His heart was finally at peace.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ《◇》
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leviismybby · 8 months
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Sweeter than honey
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Kinktober day 1: Breeding
Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni
Levi never thought he would have children, it was something he didn't even have time to think about, always busy with his captain duties and saving humanity. But now that all of that is over, that the rumbling stopped and the titans are no longer, he can't help himself but imagine you with a belly, his child growing inside of you.
He made an excuse from work, for the first time in his life, Levi was way too eager to see you. It wasn't hard, he just told the others that his knee was hurting and that he couldn't keep on planting trees where colossal titans once stomped the ground. Gabi and Falco asked him if they should help him get home but he refused, all he wanted was to be inside of you and Levi always got what he wanted one way or another.
When he got home he found you in the kitchen, you were cooking dinner, and the way you moved around the room was so mesmerizing to him. You didn't notice him at first, too focused on making sure that the food you were making was perfect. After a few minutes, Levi clears his throat and you look his way, he is leaning against the doorway, a green flannel shirt on his body, sleeves rolled up showing his forearms.
Before you can even ask him what he was doing home so early, he hugs you from behind, his hands wrapping around your waist. His lips gently kiss the side of your neck, you shiver at his action. When he sees that you still haven't let go of the spoon, he does it for you, taking the spoon out of your hands and turning you around so you face him. "I've been thinking...." He started, his hands grabbing your hips, pulling you closer to his body.
"...I want to give you my children." Your eyes go slightly wide at his words, he has never even mentioned wanting to get married, let alone have children, so his words surprised you. "You want a... child?" You ask, making sure that you didn't hear him incorrectly and by the way, he was looking at you with that gray eye of his, you didn't. "Yes. Let me give you a child. Let me make you mine permanently." He lifts you onto the counter, you wrap your legs around his hips, and his kisses travel down to your collarbone. "You taste so fucking sweet."
A soft moan surpasses your lips, your hands rest on his shoulders. "Please, princess....I want a baby with you." His voice was harsh and very low, you can tall that he really wanted a child. You don't know what snapped inside of him but whatever it was, you loved it. Without much thought, you nod, feeling his mouth suck at your soft skin.
"That's a good girl. Let me have my way with you." His hands sneak under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, it doesn't take long before he has your shirt off of you. Levi leans in taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking eagerly. The moans you let out made him more and more turned on. You couldn't deny that he looked amazing in that shirt and jeans, it made him look so sexy. Sometimes you wonder to yourself how lucky you got to have him.
Your hands tug on his dark hair when he bites your nipple playfully, his fingers playing with the other one, you can feel his erection pressing against your clothed heat. "Fuck this. I can't wait anymore. I need to be inside of that pretty pussy." He is quick to slide the pants off of your body, gently rubbing your legs as he does so, his fingers hook on your underwear and he takes them off you. Despite missing some of his fingers, he is still as skilled with his hands as ever.
Tugging on his shirt, you earn a slight slap on your thigh. "No time for that, baby. Just let me fuck you." At his words, you move your hands down to his belt undoing it with haste, he kisses you on the lips, his lips sucking on your tongue making you moan softly. As soon as his belt is off, he spreads your legs and pulls his cock out before slamming into you hard.
You let out a gasp against his mouth as his cock penetrates your walls. "Fuck Levi!" He starts to thrust into you, hissing at the way your pussy gets used to him with ease. His hands are gripping your hips as he is fucking you roughly on the counter in the messy kitchen, your moans and lewd wet sounds echoing off the walls. Levi leaves sloppy kisses on your neck, his cock pounding you deep, it was sloppy and messy but neither of you cared. Levi was only determined to do one thing; get you pregnant.
"You feel so good. So fucking wet and warm. Fuck." He growls, your pussy clenches around his length anytime he slams back into you. It drives him crazy, you were made for him and wouldn't have it any other way. Your eyes start to roll back, your hands grabbing his shoulders, messing up his perfect green shirt. You whine when he speeds up, biting your lip so hard you might make it bleed. He feels so good inside of you. So perfect.
"You feel so good, Levi!" One of your hands grabs the nape of his neck, softly rubbing his skin. "Yeah? You like me fucking you like this?" You nod, your head throws back when you feel that warm sensation built up in your lower stomach, you won't last long and but the way Levi's cock is twitching inside of you, neither will he.
"I'll cum so fucking deep inside of you. I will get you pregnant, I promise, baby." His thrusts grow more erratic, and he grunts loudly, he can't wait to fill you up with his seed. With last few hard thrusts, he cums inside of you making you cum too. Your fingers dig into the skin of his nape, a loud moan of his name escaping your lips.
He moves his hips against yours gently, his head buried in your shoulder kissing it softly. Levi stays inside of you for a few minutes, just releasing in the feel of your warm walls. Then, he pulls out but quickly puts two fingers inside of you, making you yelp in surprise. "I don't want you to waste a single drop...fuck.."
"We are going again." Before you can protest, he picks your body up and carries you the the table, swooping everything off it, and making a mess on the floor however he doesn't care, not now. Putting you on the table, he takes your legs and puts them over his shoulder and then enters you again without struggle.
"Mhhhh Levi!" You grip the edges of the desk when he starts to move, his pace rough. "Yeah, that's it. Take it all like a good girl you are." He kisses your claf, fucking you fast and rough making the desk shake under you. Your monas are so loud, you're certain that people outside could hear you. His cock is deeper this time, this position allowed him to make you see stars, it won't take him much to make you cum but you'll try to hold on as much as you can.
The view Levi has is filthy, his cock is coated with his and your cum, he watches as his length slides in and out of you. You open your eyes looking up at him, despite the scar across his face, he will still the most handsome man you have ever laud your eyes on and you would be more than happy to have his children.
"Fuck yeah, I'll make a mommy. I'll give my my child." His grip on your legs he tighter, his pace starts to pick up. One of his hands runs down your legs and down to your stomach, he gently presses on your navel, your mouth drops open, a scream of his name leaving your lips. It was all too much, he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. He smirks and then moves his finger to your pussy, rubbing your clit gently as he pounds into you.
At some point his cock hits your cervix, your vision starts to get blurry, the mixture between pain and pleasure was perfect and just like that, you squirt all over his shaft, shivering. "Oh good fucking girl. You're so messy, baby." He slows his pace down however he is still fucking you hard, reaching the deepest parts of you. The desk under you is wet, the juices dripping from your pussy make this all so lewd.
Your hands grip his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh. Levi lifts your hips up slightly, so he can fuck you even deeper if possible. "Yes, fuck yes. I am so close. I'll fill you up. You wanna make me a daddy huh pretty girl?" You can't event respond, only whimpers are coming out of your mouth and fuck, Levi enjoys seeing you all stupid because of him.
With a hard slam of his hips, he spills deep inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He growls, the feeling of him doing this was way better than he thought. He stays in you for a little while, before pulling out, watching as his cum drips out of you.
"Oh I definitely got your pregnant now..."
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Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @hhighkey @cometlevi @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @randomlevithoughts @ackermendick @saenora @loveackermannn @levismylover @laurenzita @missyasma @sad-darksoul @thebobaprincess @la-undercover-latina @levilxvr @bpdtistic
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julietsbody · 4 months
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thinking of luke finding his best friend high at one of those parties they secretly hold at camp… 
semi inspired by murdrdocs’ blurb abt smoking w luke & princessbrunette’s blurb abt jj finding his innocent friend high!!
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typically luke never came to these, he was never really a party person, just until you’re texting him some sloppy words that barely make any sense— so now he’s weaving his way through the mess of trees towards the booming music in the distance. did they know how to not get caught? 
luke’s nose scrunches as soon as he gets close enough to make out where you might be in that bright pink skirt he always saw you in, his steps move faster, especially since you’re talking to some asshole from the hades cabin. his jaw shifts as soon as he plants his hands on your shoulders, pupils cinched as he glares at the man you’re speaking with. 
“oh, hey, luke!” you smile so sweet, a little too sweet, in fact, you smell.. he blinks once, then again, then again. to be honest, you don’t really remember texting luke, and it’s always a pleasant surprise to see him appear out of nowhere.
“hey, uh, lets go, yeah?” his hands are gentle when they move you to take a step or two back from the brooding man who clearly looks disappointed, if not a little agitated, with luke’s arrival. 
“but ‘m having fun, do you want to meet my friend? this is my friend—“ 
“yeah, yeah,” luke stares at the man for a second, “hey, dude, ‘kay, time to go.” 
“seems like she doesn’t want to,” the man suddenly speaks, and it should be a blessing from hades himself that luke doesn’t have his sword strapped to his belt. 
“seems like she does since she texted me,” his tone is firmer, a certain bitterness and bite to it, “should be lucky ‘m too busy to rip that smartass smirk off your face.” 
the last sentence comes out as a mumble as he gently guides you away from the party, having to take more of a precaution than usual since you’re stumbling an awful lot. god, how much did you smoke. 
“why’d you say that to him—“ 
“mmm, no reason— hey.. jus’ asking but, you didn’t get that weed from one of the guys there, right?” you seemed much more than just high, unless you smoked like, five blunts— gods, did you? 
“no, nono, got it from um.. lucy, she said it was reaaaalllyyyy strong but like— i only smoked a little,” he hums along to your non - stop giggles, failing to keep his hands from your shoulders since every time he lets go you nearly walk into a tree. 
“yeah, yup, jus’ a little, you know, uh.. you could always just ask to smoke with me,” he shrugs like it’s simple. 
“wooow, you smoke..?” you ask very slowly all of a sudden. 
“what, you think ‘m not cool enough to?” he tuts, steering you to the hermes cabin, which is of course, empty as it always is. you were sure the hermes kids were all dead by now since every time you’re in the cabin it’s vacant, well, besides chris, but he’s always glaring at luke and leaving to bother clarisse. 
“not what i said—“ you frown up at him, and he just nods, moving to sit you down on his bed as he inspects your face to make sure you’re solely high on weed— you really do reek of it, gosh, maybe he should spray his cologne on you. he doesn’t get more time to think before you’re pawing at him, “miss you, luke, talk to me.” 
he chuckles at the hazy glint in your eyes, “c’mon, princess, ‘m not the man for that job.” 
you hook a finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, tugging him in closer, “what do you mean?” 
“‘m your friend,” it comes out hushed, breathy, “jus’ here to take care of you.” 
“so take care of me,” your eyes catch on to the bulge forming in his pants, a lazy smile curving your lips upwards. 
he pauses for a second, considering, before unhooking your hand from his pants and moving you to lay down on his bed, “time to get some beauty sleep, yeah? g’na get me in trouble if you keep acting out, princess.” 
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crevicedwelling · 9 months
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I see at least one cool bug a day, and usually many more, but it’s not because I live anywhere particularly rich in strange, wonderful creatures (I live in an unremarkable corner of Pennsylvania, USA) or spend all of my free time looking for bugs (well, just *most* of it). in my experience, finding interesting bugs is less about actually locating them and more about looking closely at tiny things you’d otherwise ignore!
this very long post was compiled over a couple days in late July, although I spent less than 10 minutes at a time searching. there’s a lot of fun creatures just out in the open.
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plants are always a good place to start when looking for bugs, and I chose this small fig tree (Ficus carica) with a mulberry sapling friend. feeding on the sap of the fig and mulberry is the first group I’ll take a look at, the planthoppers:
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these two are flatid bugs, Metcalfa pruinosa and Flatormenis proxima. flatids are slow-moving bugs that can be approached closely, but once they get tired of circling around stems to avoid you they may launch themselves into a fluttering flight with spring-loaded rear legs.
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Aplos simplex, a member of the related family Issidae, also likes fig sap. its “tail” is actually a tuft of waxy secretions, which get shed along with the bright colors when it assumes a lumpy, bean-shaped adult form.
cicadellids, or leafhoppers, are just about everywhere on plants, but can be hard to approach without scaring them.
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Agallia constricta on the left is a tiny species that feeds on grass, but many were scared up onto the fig by my footsteps. Jikradia olitoria is a much larger species that does feed on the fig; juveniles like this are curled, creeping goblins while adults’ rounded wings give them a pill-shaped appearance.
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this big, pale leafhopper belongs to genus Gyponana. it’s tricky to get to species ID with these.
Graphocephala are striking little hoppers that eat a variety of native and nonnative plants. G. coccinea is the larger, more boldly colored one and G. versuta is smaller but more common locally. they’ll sit on the tops of leaves but take flight if you get too close quickly.
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another group you’re almost guaranteed to encounter are flies (Diptera). these are a very diverse group, so much more than houseflies and mosquitoes (though I did run into both)
where I live, any plant with broad leaves is almost guaranteed to have a few Condylostylus, long-legged flies that come in shades of blue, green, and red. despite their dainty physique, they’re agile predators, typically feeding on other small flies.
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next, a few hoverflies: the ubiquitous Toxomerus geminatus and a Eumerus that I’ve been seeing a lot of this year (but maybe I’ve just noticed them for the first time). syrphids have varied life histories, but most adults drink nectar and many of the larvae are predaceous on aphids.
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the metallic green soldier fly is Microchrysa flaviventris, nonnative here. Coenosia is a fun example of a “fly that looks like a fly,” with big red eyes and a gray body, and you might think they’re just another dung-sucking pest, but they’re actually aggressive predators! this one seemed to have nabbed itself some sort of nematoceran fly, maybe a fungus gnat.
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many flies are very tiny, just millimeters long. the first two little fellows are lauxaniids, while the last one, an agromyzid leafminer Cerodontha dorsalis, burrows through grass leaves as a larva.
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while moths and butterflies (Lepidoptera) are drawn to plants for their flowers or to lay eggs, many small moths can easily be found resting on or under leaves during the day.
these first two are tortricids, many of which are flat, rectangular moths resembling chips of bark or dead leaves. the apple bud moth, Platynota idaeusalis, feeds on a wide variety of hosts, while this beat-up old Argyrotaenia pinatubana would have developed in an edible tube nest of pine needles.
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Callima argenticinctella feeds in bark and dead wood (a resource used by more caterpillars than you’d realize!) while the last moth, possibly an Aspilanta, is a leafminer.
although beetles (Coleoptera) are famous for their diversity, I didn’t find too many on the fig. the invasive Oriental beetle Exomala orientalis resting here can be found in a wide range of colors, from this common tan to to deep iridescent black. the other beetle is a Photinus pyralis firefly, sleeping under leaves as fireflies do.
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a few spare hemipterans: a Kleidocerys resedae that blew in on a wind, and below, the mulberry whitefly Tetraleurodes mori feeds on its namesake host. as for Hymenoptera, I saw manny tiny parasitic braconid wasps and various ants attracted to the planthoppers’ honeydew excretions—always worth checking underneath roosting hoppers for things having a drink.
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a couple handsome spider boys were scrambling through the fig seeking females, a jumping spider Paraphidippus aurantius and an orbweaver, Mecynogea lemniscata.
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and to round it off, a young Conocephalus meadow katydid and a Carolina mantis, Stagmomantis carolina.
there’s 31 species of arthropod in this post, and I probably saw some 45, not all of which stayed for photos. if you walk slowly and look closely, you can see a sizeable chunk of your local biodiversity in under fifteen minutes! of course this will depend on where you live and what time of year it is, but there’s almost always more cool bugs out there than you’d expect, even on just a single plant.
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"
and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?
That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."
And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?
We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.
Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.
Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!
I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.
I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!
I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.
There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.
A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?
I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.
You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.
Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"
We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.
As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"
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bratzforchris · 2 months
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Inked Daisies (Chapter 1)
A series
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Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?
Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader
Warnings: There will be individual warnings for each chapter. No warnings in this one!
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Soooo...my first series on here ♡ In this universe, Matt has a nose ring and his usual tattoos, plus some other tats and piercings that'll be added later hehe<3 Let me know how you like it!! 💐💐
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“Nope,” Matt shook his head as you stepped inside the shop, looking at you from behind the counter. “You can’t bring those in here.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the small Mason jar of flowers down on the glass case that held a variety of glittering body jewelry. “They’re flowers, Matt. Not a bomb.”
“Don’t care, didn’t ask. Plus, they ruin the look.” Matt kept his eyes trained on whatever he was looking at on his laptop, but you could see a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
“You’re so grumpy,” You tsked, maneuvering yourself behind the counter and peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”
Matt sighed, running his hands through his hair and spinning himself around in his chair to look at you. “This dude keeps changing his fucking design even though he’s put his deposit down. And guess what? His appointment’s tomorrow,” he sighed again, brushing a hand across his nose. “Fuck, I forgot that’s a new piercing.” 
Your face dropped into a pout at Matt’s stress. You had known him since freshman year when you had become friends with Chris and the other two triplets by extension. Although you didn’t see all the inner workings of Matt’s mind, you knew that he struggled with anxiety and stress. A particular instance at Six Flags during your sophomore year had told you that much. 
“Let’s see the design,” You offered, filling up a paper cup from the water jug behind the counter. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to make him happy.”
“What? Give him the tattoo for free and then change once it’s already on his body?” Matt raised a brow at you as you poured the water into the jar of flowers. 
“You’re such a pessimist, Matt,” You shook your head, placing the now-full jar of flowers next to his computer. “If it helps take away the awful, vile sight of big, scary flowers, these are the outcasts. Their stems were too short and a few of them are missing some petals. They’re the rejects.”
Owning a florist’s shop had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. You had been captivated by flowers since the day your granny had taken you into her expertly tended garden, leading you around and telling you all the meanings for the different plants. In a way, it almost felt like you were carrying on her legacy by owning such a dainty, girly shop that sold her favorite things. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked the fact that your shop was directly across the street from an all black tattoo and piercing parlor that just so happened to be owned by your best friend’s brother, but she definitely would’ve liked the aesthetic of your business. 
You drew yourself out of your thoughts, pulling up the chair of another piercer who had left earlier in the day. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
Matt moved a few things around on his laptop, opening up Procreate and clicking onto a design. In your opinion, it was absolutely gorgeous. The tall oak tree in the drawing had large branches that extended outwards, but instead of leaves, the tree held clocks that were all stuck at midnight. Underneath the actual drawing was the carefully lettered sentence ‘Until Time Stops’ in swirly letters that matched the chains of the clocks. 
“That’s beautiful,” You said softly, your eyes entranced by the drawing. “It’s…wow, it’s gorgeous.”
“I think so too.” Matt mumbled, clearly more lost in his artistic mind than here with you. 
This reminded you of the nights during high school sleepovers. Chris and Nick would pass out early, leaving just you and Matt. You both struggled with insomnia, so some nights you would both stay up, pouring over the brunette’s sketchbook together while Matt explained each and every drawing in great detail to you. You had noticed that, similar to you, Matt had an eye for the natural world. You’d never brought this notice up to him of course, but you often thought about it during the early morning hours when you were doing opening duties in the shop while waiting for your employees to arrive.
“But he doesn’t like it, so it’s a scrap,” Matt shrugged, closing out the application and leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “God, I’m fucking tired.”
You sighed sympathetically, hopping out of the chair. “I understand. I guess I’d want something I really like if it’s going on my body permanently. Doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying, though.” You acknowledged, bustling around behind the counter as you stacked papers up, put pens back in their cups, and locked the jewelry case. 
“I get that you like flowers and animals and shit, but you don’t have to do that. You’re not Cinderella. I’ll do it later.” he sighed. 
“Later? Matt, it’s almost nine,” the only reason you had come into the shop in the first place was because you had finished cleaning and locking your own store rather early and had seen Matt sitting behind the counter. “You need to go home and eat and sleep. A) You gotta be hungry and B) No offense, but I wouldn’t want someone who’s sleep deprived to be giving me a tattoo or piercing.” You joked, bumping his shoulder lightly. 
As if on cue, Matt’s stomach growled audibly, making him fidget with embarrassment, but not so much that he couldn’t open one blue eye to glare at you. “Says you. How many times have you gotten Astrids and Hydrangeas mixed up because you stayed up all night reading.” the brunette chuckled to himself, remembering the time that you had employed the triplets’ help to create a brand new bouquet less than an hour before a certain bridezilla’s wedding. 
“Now that’s not fair and you know it.” You huffed. 
“Is too.”
“Is not.” 
“Is too.” Matt insisted, smirking triumphantly once he saw you sigh in defeat. 
“You’re annoying,” You grumbled. “I like Chris much better.”
“Sure ya do, sweetheart.” Matt didn’t even look in your direction as he closed his laptop, shoving it into his black tote bag.
Something about the way Matt said such a simple sentence had you fighting your blush, grabbing your own bag that you had sat down earlier. You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach, fiddling with your phone while Matt finished the tasks you hadn’t completed. “You think Nick and Chris would kill me if I brought pizza over instead of their elaborate orders from five different restaurants?” You asked, eager to move your mind away from the implication of his words. 
“You’re coming over?” Matt turned to look at you, an expression you couldn’t read on his face. 
“Nick invited me. You know we don’t see each other as much as we did when we were kids. I miss our sleepovers.” You smiled softly. 
Matt’s eyes crinkled with nostalgia. “Yeah, I remember that. They were kind of nice, I guess.”
“You guess? Wow, way to treat us like chumps. You got a girlfriend you’d rather be hanging out with or something?”
“No.” it was a single word, yet the boy’s tone changed from one of fondness to something much deeper and almost angrier. 
“I’m sorry, I…” You trailed off, studying him as he picked up his bag, trying not to focus on the tattoos that snaked down his muscular arms and connected to the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. “I didn’t mean to hit a sore subject.” Even though you two were close, you knew Matt didn’t tell you everything about his life. 
“Let’s just go, okay? I’m sure the ruffians are hungry.” he grumbled, walking towards the door. 
You scrambled after your friend, each of his broad steps equaling four of yours. “They’re not so bad.”
“That’s because you don’t live with them,” Once you were both outside, Matt turned and locked the door to the shop behind him. “Trust me, when Chris burps in your face for the fiftieth time that day, it gets less funny and more annoying. Do you have a ride?”
“...no…” You admitted. 
“Can no one in my life get their license?” Matt sighed, not even waiting for you as he started the trek to his car. 
“Actually,” You corrected him, practically jogging to keep up. “I have my license. I’m just saving for a car.”
You believed city transportation was a perfectly valid form for getting from point A to point B, but as you slid into the passenger seat of Matt’s car, you couldn’t help but to admit that having your own personal vehicle was a much nicer alternative. Matt pulled out of the parking space without speaking, but you could feel his warm presence beside you in the car. As he migrated the car through the narrow city streets, you found yourself wondering what your life would be like if this is how every single day went for you. You knew Matt would drive you home in the evenings if you asked, but a part of you wanted to keep the rare occasion of rides together just that. Rare, special, something seemingly so mundane that it was almost silly you were even thinking about this. 
Time spent alone with Matt was rare, despite working across the street from each other. Between being a triplet and your friendship with Chris, the one-on-one actions were few and far between. But for some reason, on nights like tonight, when you thought about how he interacted with you, you wished that you could make them happen over and over and over again.  
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azsazz · 7 months
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Silence Isn't Quiet Anymore
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel finally understands.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 892 (short but so good?)
Notes: This might be one of the most interesting concepts I've ever written. I'm obsessed.
_________________________________________
Azriel finally understands.
He’d caught a Suriel once. It hadn’t been anything more difficult than, say, crossing a river, which Suriels cannot do. He’d tracked it for an hour, two, the wind whistling through the trees as his only companion. His shadows had cowered away from the creature that belonged to something other. Another life, perhaps one before even the first of the fae or humans or animals that inhabit the continent found their way here. Before plants had taken root and clouds poured rain from the skies and the sun and the moon had been together, not forced apart by day and night.
There wasn’t a trap to be laid. A crossing of rivers had done enough.
The creature's tattered robe pulled from its bony body as a gust of wind brushed through the woods, sending shivers up his spine. He could’ve turned away right then. Should’ve. He wasn’t looking for answers to any questions, too stubborn in the fact that it was his job to know more about anything at any given time.
The Suriel stared into his soul as he stared into the cavity of its presence. A stalemate. Death looking at Death, a boy looking at his truth.
And its words were nothing but.
“One day, Shadowsinger, when the world has gone still around you, you’ll find out why silence isn’t quiet anymore.”
The harrowing words had haunted him for centuries. Azriel had shrunk in on himself, retreating further and further inside of the cavern of his mind as the words clung to his brain matter, always there. 
In times where he might’ve forgotten the roughness of the Suriels voice, the pondering of so few words spoken, as if they were a curse branded into his soul, even his shadows would remind him. Curling behind the backs of his ears in a movement that reminded him so much of ragged, bony fingers reaching out for him in the same way. As he stared into those empty eye sockets, puzzling words falling from lips that didn’t move, a tongue that wasn’t there, from a jaw broken and swinging with the breeze.
Azriel finally understands.
Azriel finally understands why silence isn’t quiet anymore.
It’s your soft breaths, fingers brushing against the crisp page as you turn it. The cracking of the stiff spine. Your quiet gasps as the story goes wrong and the rubbing of your thighs when it goes right. He watches you from his place next to you, blankets shifting as you draw your knees to your chest, completely lost in the novel settled in your lap. You don’t even know it, that his hazel eyes are drawn to you like a maggot to rot. You’re lost in your own world, the quiet of the room a friend, a safety that allows you to immerse yourself in letters on pages.
It’s the wooden spoon scraping the bottom of the pot as you stir, staring at him with those heated eyes as if this is as tough for you as it is for him, keeping away. It’s the constant constricting in his chest, a yearning slowly stoked into a wildfire, cracking in the quiet as he waits. It’s the way your skirts whisper against your skin as you move around the kitchen. The sprinkle of spices, coarse salt pinched between your fingers, dripping into the stew. It’s bubbling, it’s meat so tender it falls apart with the spear of his fork, it’s a slurp of broth that burns him up just like you do, accepting the bond.
It’s your body curling into his while you sleep. The crumple of the sheets as you roll. Your fingernails against the mattress as you feel for him, mind buried deep in sleep. He wonders what you dream of, when you cling to him like that, the contours of your body fitting perfectly within his own. He can feel it, almost, the warmth in his chest as you dream.
It’s the flap of his wings in the night sky. You, cradled in his arms. The whipping of your hair across his wind-burnt cheeks. The light scratches at his scalp as you run your fingers through his unruly hair. It’s the steady thump of your chest, your heart against his as you cling to him, the scream you hold in but your body is tight with it.
It’s when you’re gone and he’s all alone. The silence doesn’t stop, but neither does the noise. It’s filled with voices, shadows cawing in his ears, sliding against his skin, chasing his footsteps like predators. It’s the voices in his head, the roaring of his beating chest as it screams at him to find you, even though you’re only gone a few more hours. 
It’s clothes peeling away from skin. Buttons flying to the ground, fabric tearing. Footsteps stumbling closer to the bed. It’s nails scraping down his muscles, his around your waist, pressing bruises into your flesh. All the words that need to be said aren’t words at all. They’re tongues pressing against each other, soothing along each other. It’s teeth clicking, sticking to skin when you bite. It’s your flushed body peeling from his with every move, sticky with sweat. It’s the roiling inside of him, his mating bond coiling with yours, tighter and tighter and tighter until—
Azriel finally understands.
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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steyki
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steyki [English] vtr. anger, make someone angry
Neteyam gets angrier than he knew he could be when he sees another member of his clan trying to stake a claim on you, and takes matters into his own hands.
Adult Neteyam. Jealousy trope.
1,445 words.
Hunting wasn’t really a strong suit of mine. I was skilled with a bow, almost exceptionally so, and I understood that killing was part of the cycle of life, but I simply didn’t like it.
Instead, I had made myself handy at gathering. I could spend all day in the forest, pillaging through the wildlife, taking just what the clan needed and leaving no trace of myself.
Which was why it was so infuriating that once again, Marek had found me. Every day for the past month, he had found me.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Marek. He was a fine young man, handsome and well spoken, admired by many, but I knew I did not share the affections for him that he shared for me.
He followed me around for hours, asking incessant questions about the plants I was harvesting, how they would be used, and I wondered how he didn’t know these things - or maybe, he was pretending not to know.
With my basket overflowing, I finally announced that I was ready to return home. “Come,” I said to Marek, who was falling over himself with questions again.
Sometimes, I wished he would just declare his intentions, so I could reject him and we could both move on.
He followed me back to Home Tree, telling me about his most recent kill, and I tried to be very interested and kind, but I could not have been more relieved when he bid me farewell.
“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” he said with a friendly wave, and I winced.
---
Marek’s friends teased him later that night.
“You follow her around like a lovesick Syaksyuk,” Ani, Marek’s oldest friend, said. “Just make your claim!”
Marek shook his head. “No, it will not work with her. She has to... I have to convince her, first.”
“This is what you waste all day doing?” Neteyam chimed in, having only been half listening to the conversation. He didn’t know Marek that well, but Ani was a good friend. “Following some woman around? Who is she?”
“Y/N,” Marek said.
Ani continued to tease, and the two men did not notice that their friend had grown very quiet.
Y/N, Neteyam quietly seethed. Marek had ideas on Y/N? Planned to make her his mate? That was impossible. He hadn’t even realized they knew each other very well. How long had this been going on? How absorbed had he been in his father’s training that he hadn’t noticed?
Neteyam gripped the bow in his hands, using every ounce of his self-control not to pounce on the innocent man in front of him. Of course, other members of the tribe were going to notice Y/N. Was she not the most beautiful woman they had ever seen? Was she not well-spoken, kind, and intelligent? He was a fool to think he could waste time with training and put off declaring himself to her.
He was angry with himself. What if Y/N was planning to say yes to Marek? What would Neteyam do then?
Marek was his friend... but he had to get to her first. 
---
Having dropped off everything I’d gathered that day near the fire pits where the daily meals were prepared, I considered socializing a little. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marek and two of his friends talking, and one of them was glancing my way.
Neteyam.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly in my chest. I hardly ever saw Neteyam anymore. In fact, it had been weeks since I spotted him. When we locked eyes, he stood up and made his way hastily over to me.
“Y/N,” he called, waving.
“Neteyam,” I greeted as he approached. “Where have you been?”
He sighed. “Training, always.”
I smiled, and he began walking with me, even though I didn’t really know where I was walking to. I thought about heading back home, or maybe back into the woods to dip my feet in a shallow pool. It was a very hot day.
“Well, the son of Olo'eyktan must be prepared for all things.” I looked over my shoulder, to where Marek and his best friend, Ani, were staring.”Ugh, please come.” I grabbed Neteyam’s arm and pulled him until we were out of sight, and alone.
“What was that?” Neteyam asked. I pressed my back against the tree behind me and sighed.
“Marek,” I said, wincing. “He, well, he...”
Neteyam’s face fell. “He wants you to be his mate.”
I groaned, putting my hands in my face, and felt ashamed. Marek was so kind, skilled, and handsome; I knew many women who would be flattered and even thrilled by his attentions, but here I was, annoyed.
The truth was, I had pined for Neteyam for quite some time. It wasn’t smart, to hope for the affections of the next Olo’eyktan, but I couldn’t stop myself.
As handsome and skilled as Marek was, Neteyam was a thousand times more impressive. No one was as kind as him, no one cared more deeply for their family, and certainly no one was more beautiful than the man standing before me.
“Does he bother you, Y/N?” Neteyam asked, reaching out to gently pull my hand from my face.
“Well, he doesn’t mean to... but he follows me all day. You know, I like to forage. I’m good at it, I, it’s easy and it makes me feel useful. Plus, it’s peaceful, to be in the forest alone most of the day. But now, almost every day, Marek follows me and talks. He talks, and talks, and talks, and I know he wants to ask me, but he won’t. I don’t know why he won’t.” The words spilled from my mouth like vomit, and I felt a little embarrassed to confess this to Neteyam.
“And if he did,” Neteyam asked, stepping just a little closer, “what would you say?”
“I would thank him for his offer, and say no. And then, he could move on to a woman worthy of his affections. He is wasting his time.”
Before me, Neteyam seemed to relax. His ears turned up, and his shoulders fell down just a little, and the tense lines in his forehead disappeared. 
“I know how to get Marek to leave you alone,” Neteyam said, and my eyes brightened up.
“Please, I will do anything,” I begged, reaching out and putting a hand on his chest.
“You must take a mate. Another mate.”
Disappointed, I fell back against the tree again. “No one else has expressed interested, Neteyam. I’m very strange. Most people, they don’t pay much attention to me.”
Neteyam shrugged. “I do.”
I grinned at him. “You do not. I never see you.”
“You would see me much more, if we were pledged to each other.”
My eyebrows furrowed and I pursed my lips. “Are you offering to pretend, so Marek will leave me alone?”
Neteyam’s grin grew ear to ear, and I wanted to sigh at the beauty of it. “No. I am trying to express my affections to you, and doing a bad job of it.”
Standing straight up, I pushed myself off of the tree behind me, forcing Neteyam to take a few steps to avoid us both falling down with my sudden forward momentum. 
“What?” was all I could manage in reply.
“I will not see you with someone like Marek. In fact, I will not see you with anyone else,” Neteyam said, a fierceness in his eyes that I rarely caught a glimpse of; he looked just like his mother.
He reached for me, placing one arm behind my neck, and the other low, on my hip. 
“You are not strange, Y/N. You are beautiful, and skilled, and smart, and you deserve to be loved by someone you love in return. I would hope, that could be me.”
My mouth was dry. I opened it, then closed it again, as he pulled me in so close that our chests were nearly touching. Neteyam was nearly a head taller than me, and I could almost hear his heart beating out of his chest.
“Yes, Neteyam,” I said finally, in a whisper. “I am yours.”
Not even a second later, Neteyam brought his mouth down to mine in a forceful, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around my waist, nearly lifting me off the ground, and we sighed in unison.
All the fears and anxieties melted away as Neteyam held me, and kissed me with such a tender passion that I saw stars.
I could not help but think that, after everything, I owed my happiness still to Marek.
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lqveharrington · 6 months
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Silver Roses & Fallen Roses
2: Capitol Zoo (masterlist for series)
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summary: With the Games getting closer, Coriolanus must get his tribute to trust him. But, who knew that the Capitol Zoo would give your relationship with him issues.
pairing: young!Coriolnaus Snow x fem!reader
warnings: jealousy, coriolanus being manipulative, coriolanus hurts reader (on accident), death, mentions of death, mentions of blood, a little fluff, ANGST, grandma’am being protective, italics are flashbacks
word count: 5.2k+
a/n: this might be one of the longer pieces i’ve written in a while. this chapter is definitely a lot and it took so long to finish. things are starting to change within their relationship, and i will advise, it will go downhill from here.
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Red. Rouge. The color could be and mean many things. It could be love, the color of the Academy uniform, or rage. It could be strength, revenge, or a shade of lipstick. But in this case, red meant jealousy.
You have always hated jealousy as a trait. It was never a pretty sight. In fact, you could only recount two times you were ever jealous in your life.
Once was two years ago, before you and Coriolanus were ever dating.
Funnily enough, you were jealous of Clemensia.
Dean Highbottom announced another research project that was worth 40% of your semester grade. Typically, you and Coriolanus were paired up together for assignments like these. However, you were given random pairings. You were happy when Highbottom pulled out your name and Sejanus’. It had been a while since you two worked together. Yet, when the next two names pulled out were Coriolanus and Clemensia, you felt an uneasy emotion stirring inside. One you have never felt before.
Everyone switched seats to be seated near their partners. Sadly, Sejanus sat far from you, causing you to gather your things to move. Within that same moment, Clemensia slid into the seat you once occupied, adding another strike to the emotion settling in you.
“Y/N,” Sejanus smiled at you, letting you take your seat. “I’m relieved I got to be partners with you.”
“You and me both.” You return the smile, slipping a clean sheet of paper out. “Shall we get started?”
As soon as you started to come up with ideas, your gaze drifted toward the opposite end of the room, watching Coriolanus and Clemensia work together. They seemed like they were having fun working with one another. Clemensia grabbed his forearm at a joke Coriolanus made, making your blood boil. You knew you shouldn't feel this way over your two best friends, but when it came to being millimeters away from your blond, it shook you.
“Are you… Okay?” Sejanus poked your shoulder, a concerned expression etched across his face. “Your pen looks like it’s going to explode with the way you’re gripping it.”
You look away from the sight right before Coryo looks over. “Sorry, I was… Distracted.”
“I bet.” He chuckles, earning a curious look from you.
“What do you mean?”
Sejanus tilts his head in your direction, making a subtle gesture to the blond. “You’re jealous.”
“Am not.” You frown, scrawling nonsense on the paper. “I was merely looking at them.”
“With a scowl on your face.” The curly-haired male pointed out. You flush at the observation, rubbing your face. “I doubt anything will happen, you two are as thick as thieves.”
Your eyes return to Coriolanus after listening to Sejanus’ words, meeting his water colored eyes. You smile at him, earning one back before Clemensia stole his attention again. With a fading smile and the unfamiliar feeling settling in your stomach again, you focus on the work given.
When Dean Highbottom released your class, you bid a quick bye to Sejanus before heading to the courtyard. The weather was fairly nice, and all the other students were already filling the area. You make your way toward the willow tree planted by the courtyard’s corner. It was the same place you always were, reading a book. Usually Coriolanus was with you so you could read to him, but you assumed he would stay with Clemensia.
Opening the book to where you left off, your focus was solely on the book and trying to push the feeling away, not realizing Coriolanus was just a few feet away from you.
“Where’d you go? I was looking for you.” He jogged the last few steps.
“I figured you were to hang out with Clemmie, since you’re suddenly all lovey-dovey with her.” You mutter out, not looking up.
“Excuse me?” He took a seat next to you, giving you an incredulous look. “I was not lovey-dovey with Clemensia.”
“Yes, you were.” You frown again, taking a quick glance at him. “You were the entire class.”
“Now why were you watching us instead of working on your project with Sejanus, beautiful?” Coriolanus took your chin with his thumb and pointer, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“You have no right to call me that at the moment.” You push his hand away, shoving your book back into your bag. “Good bye.”
He studies your features for a bit, piecing the pieces together. “You’re jealous.”
“What?” You whip your head at him, using an accusation kind of tone. “I am not jealous of you and Clemensia.”
“You are jealous.” Coryo smirks in your direction as you furiously flush red. “That’s just confirmation.”
“I’m not jealous, Coriolanus.” You cross your arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You really are jealous.” He raises a brow when you say his full first name. “You just have to admit it.”
“I’m not jealous of you two. I’ve never been jealous in my entire life.” You stand, Coriolanus following. “So how can I possibly be jealous of you and your blossoming relationship with Clemensia—”
“Just say that you’re jealous.” He puts a hand behind your back as he guides you through the courtyard. “You’re jealous that she’s going to spend more time with me, and that I’ll replace you with her as my favorite person…”
“I’m your favorite person?” Your eyes slowly light up, trying your best not to show it.
“Only if you say you’re jealous.”
“Never.” You lift your chin a little higher. “I’m not jealous.”
“What a shame.” He leaves your side for a second, turning around to face you. “All you have to do is say you’re jealous or I’ll go find—”
“Fine.” You mumble, looking away. “I’m jealous.”
“What was that, beautiful? Couldn’t hear you.” Coryo got a bit closer, leaning toward you.
“I’m jealous.” You shut your eyes, earning an airy laugh from him.
Coriolanus pulled you into a small hug, pecking the top of your head. “Cute.”
The second time you were ever jealous was at this moment in time.
You were told by Tigris that Coryo went to talk to his tribute earlier this morning. What you did not expect was him being in the zoo cage with his tribute.
All you wanted was to have breakfast and leave, but your father made you watch the live casting.
You blankly stared at the host of the Hunger Games as you caught Coriolanus’ platinum blond in the background of the television.
“That’s right! All twenty-four of them— What in the gem of Panem? Is he..? That’s an Academy rouge, no?”
Multiple emotions gnawed on the inside of you. You were terrified that something was going to happen to him in the cage, but at the same time he was looking at her as if his life depended on it.
“Excuse me! Hello, sir! Yes, you, in the red. Who are you and why are you in there with them? We’re live.” Flickerman gestures to the camera as it focuses on Coriolanus.
You study your boyfriend’s face, realizing he was talking to Lucy Gray.
“Isn’t that something?” Your father remarked. “Now why would your boyfriend be in the cage along with the other tributes?”
The look on your face never leaves as Flickerman continues to ask questions concerning Coriolanus’ safety. After a few seconds, Coriolanus slips a flower behind the girl’s ear. It wasn’t just any flower. It was one of Grandma’am’s white roses.
He takes Lucy Gray’s hand and gets closer to the camera. They started to answer questions Flickerman was asking and that look Coryo was giving his tribute never left his face.
At this point, all you could see was red.
Coriolanus never gave you one of Grandma’am’s beautiful roses or looked at you like he was so ever in love to be near you. And what completely set you off was the way Lucy Gray leaned into your boyfriend’s figure, Coriolanus wrapping an arm around her waist.
You rolled your eyes at his gesture, standing from your seat on the couch. “Turn that off. It’ll only do damage to the household’s eyes.”
Your father raises his eyebrows at you, shutting the television off.
Taking your bag and fixing your Academy uniform, you leave the Lovett Manor.
You enter the car that was taking you to the Academy, muttering a good morning to the driver.
“Are you okay, Miss Lovett?”
“I’m fine.” You look out the window, slowly passing the trees decorating your driveway.
A beat passes.
“How can he do that?” You ask the driver, fiddling with your silver necklace.
“Do what?”
You huff, twisting the chain. “Be so close to a tribute.”
“He is smart, Miss Lovett. He might be strategizing with her to win the games. Isn’t your father’s deal still on despite the change for the Plinth prize?”
“I guess.” You mumble out a response, jealousy continuing to bubble as your thoughts keep going back to the pair. “I called his cousin to see if Coryo and I could walk together today, but she said he was talking to his tribute. I guess talking to your tribute involves holding your hand and tucking important roses behind their ear.”
The rest of the car trip was silent, only the sounds of passing cars filling the space.
Arriving at the Academy, you thanked the driver and headed into the building. You weren’t one for letting comments and looks get to you by others, but it seemed as if everyone was judging you today. There were whispers everywhere you turned and points in your direction, only provoking your current mood.
“Miss Lovett, if I can see you.” Dean Highbottom calls for you before you enter his class, making you curious.
“Yes, sir?” You clutch your bag a little tighter.
He sighs, “Did you somehow convince Mr Snow to talk to his tribute which caused him to be put into the zoo cage?”
“No. I haven’t talked to Coriolanus at all today.” Your face is as hard as stone, showing zero emotion. “Why? Is he in trouble?”
“Oh, most definitely, Miss Lovett.” He pauses, seeming as if he was going to add something else but refrained. “I would suggest you take your seat, classes are about to start.”
You enter the classroom, not questioning your professor any longer. Silently take your seat next to Sejanus, frowning at the empty seat to your left.
Time agonizingly passed on. Highbottom gave out a textbook assignment which, he said, would take the majority of the class. It would be until forty minutes later that Coriolanus showed up to class. By this time, you were annoyed at the fact he was late. He was never late. And being late to class for talking to a tribute just made the situation worse.
The doors slammed open as Coriolanus walked inside, taking a few seconds to look for your figure. You never dared to look up at his icy stare, doing your best to focus on the papers in front of you.
“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow.” Dean Highbottom did not bother to look up. “Which amongst them endangers Capitol students—”
“What, who?” Coriolanus interjects, stopping his movements.
“You and your dear Miss Lovett.” He retaliates. “I’m meeting with the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor immediately.”
You look up at the mention of your name. What did he do that could possibly endanger you?
Coriolanus stood by his seat, deciding to argue with the Dean. “You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away.”
“I’m putting insubordination as well.” Highbottom mutters, scratching the violated rules onto a paper.
Arachne looks at Coriolanus with distaste, placing her pen down. “Introducing her to people? Holding her hand when you have a girlfriend, Coryo? You make it look as if we’re one of the same as those animals.”
The grip on your pen tightened at her unneeded comments. The red encasing every fiber of your body once more as your classmates argued. You really started to hate Lucy Gray.
“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.” Sejanus jumps in to defend his best friend.
“I don’t need your help Sejanus.” Coryo lowers his voice, taking his seat next to you.
He laced his hand with your left, making you freeze.You glance at him but don’t meet his eyes. You purse your lips and remove your hand from his, pushing it away from your lap.
You could feel his stare from your side, making you shift uncomfortable at the now high tension between you.
If Coriolanus had been with you earlier that morning, you would’ve welcomed his touch. However, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of doing something highly dangerous then coming back straight to you. Especially with the addition of being close with such a tribute.
Yes, you wanted to feel his comfort, and yes, you regretted not staying the night at his penthouse. But right now you couldn’t look at him without thinking of what you saw earlier.
Coriolanus hid a scoff at your behavior, choosing to rest his hands on the desk instead. He didn’t like to be ignored by you. You were his and obviously something altered your mindset if you acted like this.
Suddenly, Dr. Gaul appeared from the top of the classroom, slowly descending the stairs while reciting a kind of poem.
“Snow fell down in the cage. It fell down in the cage, but it landed.” Her eyes found the blond’s face, noticing his attitude to the female to his right. One she noticed during the reaping the other day too.
A small silence filled the room while Coriolanus slowly shifted his gaze to the doctor. “On stage.”
Her wicked smile appears on her face, “You’re good at games. Maybe one day you’ll be a game maker like me.”
“Not if the games continue at all.” Highbottom interjected, turning back around to face Dr. Gaul.
“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo?” She gestures toward Coriolanus, eyes flickering to your face as well. “And I came here to ask your star mentor a question.”
The attention goes from Dr. Gaul to the male sitting beside you.
“What are the Hunger Games for?”
Coriolanus takes a second before answering, the gaze of his classmates heavy on him. “They’re to punish the Districts for their uprising. To… commemorate the end of the war—“
“Commemorate the dull, dull, dull.” She runs with her words, her raspy voice making it sinister. “Punishment can take myriad forms. Why not drop bombs? Cancel Food shipments? Stage executions? Why games?”
“Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place.” Sejanus replied instead of Coriolanus, making your head snap up to the Plinth. “Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended. The oldest of them were only eight!”
“Sejanus—”
“Ah, Miss Lovett.” Dr. Gaul called, catching your intention of stopping Sejanus’ ramble. “Tell me. What are the Hunger Games for?”
You pinch your hand, looking between her staring eyes. “To remind the Districts of the Capitol’s power and lack of remorse for the war they started. To show that, if pushed hard enough, humans will do whatever it takes to survive.”
Dr. Gaul clapped her hands at your response, her crazed smile only growing. “I like this one! She understands what the Hunger Games are for.”
You bite your tongue, doing what you could to show no emotion for the unnecessary praise.
“Unlike you, Mr. Plinth. That sort of sympathy might mess with your mentoring assignment.” She says in disapproval.
“Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the game's time has passed.” Dean Highbottom attempted to talk about ending the games again.
“Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too.” Coriolanus stands, taking another look at you before shifting his attention to Dr Gaul. “Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings.”
You frown at your boyfriend. It seemed like he didn’t want the Hunger Games to continue yet he defends his stance like he needs them to continue.
“I mean, you saw those kids at the zoo. They wanted to get to know Lucy Gray—“
You let out a fake laugh. One that was quiet enough so that not everyone could hear, but loud enough that those sitting around you and Dr. Gaul could hear. You earned a curious look from Dr. Gaul and a glare from Coriolanus in the process.
“If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games. To make the stakes personal.” He finished, a prominent scowl replacing his once calm face.
You cross your arms and legs, watching the wall clock as they continue to converse about the topic. You lost interest the second he mentioned his tribute’s name. You could feel Coriolanus’ stare on you as he and Dr. Gaul went back and forth in their conversation.
“— Lucy Gray may not win in the arena… But if you just give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth prize that can win people’s attention.”
You caught his last bit, rolling your eyes at the mention of the infamous songbird.
Dr. Gaul hums, straightening her back. “I’d like you…” She flicks her eyes to your profile. “And Miss Lovett to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.”
Your eyes widen at her, sitting up at the idea. “Dr. Gaul—“
“Wait.” Clemensia stands, hands lightly hitting the desk. “You mean you might actually use his, their ideas?”
“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?”
“Coriolanus,” She said loudly, trying to get as much recognition as the two of you. “And I are class partners. Dr. Gaul, we do all our assignments together.”
The doctor chuckles at Clemensia’s added comments, entertaining the idea. “It’ll be an interesting test.”
She took her leave, and it seemed as everyone in the room relaxed at the missing presence of the head game maker.
Coriolanus takes his seat next to you again, bringing his head by your ear. He felt you tense under him, making him release a quiet but bitter chuckle.
“Meet me in the library.”
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“What the hell is wrong with you?” Coriolanus pulled you behind one of the shelves, gripping your arms.
“Nothing is wrong with me, Coriolanus.” You try prying yourself off of him. “Let go.”
“No.” He hardened his grip. “You’re being weird—“
“I’m being weird?” You throw your head back, laughing at his irony. “You were in a cage, locked with fucking tributes. Who knows what could have happened to you? You could have died.”
“I didn’t.”
You tilt your head, a fake pout on your face. “No shit you didn’t.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.” Coriolanus got so close to your face that you could see the rage in his eyes.
“What are you going to do about it?” You crease your brows. The hands that held you in place started to hurt, but you couldn’t let that stop you now. “Tigris said you were just going to talk to your tribute, not follow her into where they’re being held.”
“I need her to trust me—“
“I’m not fucking done, Coriolanus.” You try to get out of his grip again. “You gave her one of your grandmother’s white roses, held her fucking hand, and looked at her as if she were the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”
“Is that what this attitude is about?” He scoffs at your childlike nature. “You’re jealous over my time spent with a District tribute?”
“You never looked at me the way you looked at her.” You seethed. Your silver necklace dangled over your collarbone, the light hitting it which caught Coriolanus’ eye. “And you never gave me one of Grandma’am’s special roses.”
The male looked back into your eyes, processing your words. “I need this girl to trust me. The only way for her to trust me is if she believes I cherish her. I want to win the Plinth prize. And according to the Dean, the way to win is by getting Lucy Gray to know someone still cares about her, even if she’s sent to her death. The people of Panem need to love her.”
You roll your eyes once more at the mention of the girl, “What good is winning the Plinth prize knowing you’re killing innocent people?”
“That’s not what you said to Dr. Gaul.”
“I don’t think I had a choice on my words spoken to her!” You almost scream, feeling tears welling in your eyes due to your boyfriend’s harsh grip. “Let go of me, Coriolanus. You’re hurting me.”
Something in him clicked, letting go of your arms.
You back up into one of the tables, wincing at the sudden sting. Coriolanus stepped close to check on you, suddenly feeling bad for holding you as hard as he probably shouldn’t have.
“Beautiful—“
“Don’t touch me.” You whisper as you rub your arms. “Don’t you dare.”
Coriolanus stops his actions, “Y/N…”
“I don’t like the Hunger Games.” You stare into his eyes, letting tears well into your eyes but never letting them fall. “And I can’t do anything to stop it. But I’ll try my very fucking best to get my tribute out of there alive and treated like a human and not as a spectacle for the eye.”
You shove his shoulder as you walk away from him, leaving the male in the library on his own.
“Fuck.” Coriolanus groaned, running a hand through his hair.
The rest of the day, you did your best to avoid Coriolanus. You would walk with Clemensia to classes or sit on the other side of the room if you had to. That was the first time he actually hurt you. Both mentally and physically.
You went into the restroom during your lunch break, removing part of your uniform to check the skin where Coriolanus gripped you. The skin was bright red and no doubt would be purple in a few minutes. Tears welled up in your eyes again but you refused to let them spill. Not for the same reason.
When classes ended, you took the fastest way you could to the Capitol Zoo, your bag filled to the brim with food, water, and medicine for your tribute. You knew your tribute was extremely sick and the chances for her survival were higher if she got any better.
You were the first mentor to appear at the Capitol. Although not the first visitor. Many parents and their children were staring at the tributes like they were animals. You did your best to avoid the camera set up right at the front, heading to one of the corners of the exhibit.
Lucky for you, Dill and Reaper were already situated in that area.
You were quickly able to gain their trust through the food and the medicine you brought for Dill. The three of you conversed about almost everything. Especially Dill. She wanted to know everything about you.
You offered her and Reaper more food as the young girl continued to question you.
“What about her? Are you friends with her?” Dill pointed to Arachne.
You shake your head, “More like acquainted. She’s not my favorite person I’ve ever met.”
“Good. She seems mean.” She grimaces at Arachne teasing her tribute with food. “Mm, what about that crazy man?”
“What?” You crease your brows, a confused laugh coming from you. “What crazy man?”
“That one.” She gestured to a blond, blue-eyed male. “The one who followed us in here. Is he your friend?”
You subconsciously grab your silver necklace, wrapping a finger around the charm. “He… Yes.”
Dill’s eyes lit up at the beautiful necklace, “That’s so pretty! Where did you get it?”
Smiling at her enthusiasm, you take it off and show it to her. “Coryo—“
“Who’s that?” She held the charm in her palm.
“My,” You hesitate, glancing at his crouched figure. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“You have a boyfriend?!” She practically shouts, jumping to her feet. You catch the necklace before it can fall out of her hands, slipping it back on. That medicine really helped her.
The people around you look over, making you flush red at the sudden attention. “Dill, honey—“
“Who is it? Is he also a mender?” She continues to jump and down. “Is he here right now?”
Coriolanus catches your embarrassed state, tilting his head at what the young girl could possibly be talking about.
“He is, but Dill, you can’t announce it to everyone here.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing your arm from the sudden pain it emitted. “And it’s mentor.”
“Well which one is he? Is it him?!” She points to Sejanus, making you chuckle.
You catch your lover’s eyes, watching his own eyes drift down to your arm. The small smile on your face fades and you look down, clearing your throat.
“No, not him.” You hand her your last water bottle and shut your bag. “If I tell you who it is, do you promise not tell the rest of the tributes?”
“I promise.” She crossed her heart. “Who is it?”
You gesture for her to come closer, whispering into her ear. “It’s the crazy man.”
“Really?” She whisper-shouted back, looking at Coriolanus. Dill looked back at you and noticed your bothered face, “What’s wrong?”
“We had a fight today.” You mumble, dusting your skirt off. “We didn’t leave off on a good note.”
“Oh.” She held your hand. “Hopefully you make up! Even if he is crazy, he’s crazy smart. So are you! I just know you two will be married and have beautiful children and—“
Screams fill the air, cutting Dill off. You quickly whip your head toward the noise, finding Arachne being held by her tribute. Reaper came back over to pull the young girl away from you while you were pulled away from her by two peacekeepers.
“What’s happening to Arachne?” You strain your neck to look over, watching blood pour out of her neck. “Oh, god— Oh my, god.”
Shots were being fired by peacekeepers, killing the tribute that attacked one of your peers. You pulled yourself away from the peacekeepers and rushed over to her. Although you weren’t the closest with Arachne, you were still going to try your best to help her.
“Arachne?” You kneel by her, holding her head. “Can you hear me?”
She sputters out incoherent words, the glass bottle still pierced into her neck.
“You’re going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You do your hardest to stop the bleeding without hurting her even further. “I’m sure someone is coming to help—”
“Beautiful—” You feel a pair of strong arms pull you away from Arachne’s body, her body slowly becoming lifeless.
“Oh, my god.” You drop your hands, letting the arms pull you up. “I can’t— She just—“
“Baby, I need you to breathe.” Coriolanus turned you around, holding your face in his hands. “Breathe with me.”
You shook your head, Arachne’s blood covering your hands. “Her family needs to— She’s d–dead. Her parents—”
He wiped the tears you didn’t know were falling from your face. “It’s not your fault. I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” You suck a shaky breath in and release, shutting your eyes at the encounter.
“Okay, good. A few more.” He continued to brush the tears off.
Coriolanus made sure you could breathe properly before leading you further away from the Capitol zoo. You tried to not get any blood on Coriolanus’ school uniform and tried to stop the flow of tears.
Admittedly, you hated how Arachne acted, but you never wanted her to die because of it. But her action toward the tribute was wrong and she paid the price for it. At least, that’s what the voice in the back of your mind repeatedly said to you.
“Do you need me to take you home?” Coryo took out water from his bag and wet some tissues, rubbing your hands.
You mumble a small no, sniffling from all your tears spent today. You assumed the tears were from what happened before and that Arachne’s death was just the trigger for it. You were still upset over Coriolanus and Lucy Gray and the way he treated you earlier. But those thoughts were pushed and locked into a small chest. You needed to be with him after what just happened to a classmate.
He looked at you with somewhat concern, “Are you sure? I can—”
“Can I stay with you tonight?” Your glassy eyes met his, catching his worried look. “I can’t spend tonight alone.”
Coriolanus threw the tissues away in a nearby trash can, “Always.”
You let him pull you into a hug, forgetting that he hurt you physically and you didn’t want him to hold you.
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“It’s starting again.” Grandma’am walks over to the table you, Coriolanus, and Tigris were seated. “This is how it begins… The war.”
“It was my fault. I suggested we get closer to the tributes.” Coriolanus says in a distant tone, his hand in yours.
Your head rests on his right shoulder, dressed in one of the robes Tigris made you. You let him fiddle with your hand, feeling him trace his name over your palm.
“You’re just lucky that your songbird and that sickly girl didn’t attack the both of you as well.” Grandma’am gestured to you.
“They’re not rebels, Grandma’am. They’re just girls.” Tigris looks down at the table, her voice wavering at the thought of the poor tributes.
“Trust me. Lucy Gray hasn’t been a girl in a long time.” Grandma’am shook her head, Coryo’s eyes snapping up to hers. “Outside of this Capitol, they’re savages. One and all. However they may smile, they will use you. You must use them. Or you’ll end up dead in the trees like your father.”
You squeeze Coriolanus’ hand at the mention of his deceased father, feeling him tense under his grandmother’s words. You loved Grandma’am, but to say something about her grandson’s dead father to get his act right did not settle right with you.
As the night grew longer, Tigris eventually escorted Grandma’am back to her room, squeezing both yours and her cousin’s shoulders.
“Don’t let him stay up all night for this.” Tigris told you, hoping you would knock some sort of sense into him. “Good night.”
You smile at her before shifting your attention back to the male to your right. “You heard your cousin.”
Coriolanus had his left hand now resting on your leg, occasionally moving his hand up and down to keep you awake. “You’re supposed to help me with these thoughts, you know?”
“I know.” You give him a sleepy smile. “I’ll help. I probably won’t have the best ideas, but I’m here as moral support.”
He chuckled at you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Best moral support ever.”
You ended up falling asleep the second he got to the fifth paragraph, head resting on the papers he already filled out.
But you and Coriolanus knew something between the two of you shifted. And you both knew it. Why?
Because he had yet to apologize for hurting you earlier.
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