#lilac writes💜

[liliewrites]

"IN THE HEARTHFIRE'S EMBRACE"

a/n ; HALLOO:DD so, here's the first part of the "let the world burn" series inspired by the song of the same name from chris grey. more women will be added to the list as i go, so feel free to drop some suggestions which genshin women you think would be a great addition to the series. anywaay, thanks for readingg:))

-warning/s ; a bit of descriptive violence, mentions of blood and burning but not directed at the reader. -pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader.

where in ; these women would go against every person in teyvat-- would even watch teyvat burn, all for your sake.

(men please dni utc!)

“Lynette, whatever happens, keep your mother safe.”

The words rang in the little girl’s ears repeatedly as she held the older woman’s hands. They were not related by blood in any way, but this woman had taken care of her, raised her and nurtured her for as long as she could remember. So she keeps her father’s words, and protects the woman with what she has.

“There they are! The wife of the Knave!!”

With an annoyed curse beneath a whisper, Lynette grabs onto your hand tightly, pulling you to run away as the spies have found you in your hiding spot. Tired, panting and breathless- your legs felt like it was about to give out, but thanks to the adrenaline spiking through your body, you just kept running, and running, and then finding yourself driven in a corner with nowhere to escape as the spies had surrounded you from all sides.

Despite being struck with fear, your motherly instincts came first as you held your precious daughter in your arms, wanting to protect her more than wanting to be protected by her.

“Mother, I can… I can handle this!” Lynette exclaimed, but you knew better, it was two against half a dozen grown men and only Lynette was capable of fighting out of the two of you but her alone would not be enough to face them. “My child, settle down, I'd rather die than witness you slain in front of me. Let me protect you, so hush.” 

You whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes as immense fear ran through your veins. You closed your eyes shut to brace yourself for impact, heart filled with dread as one of the men neared you with a blade of his own. He let out a sickly chuckle at your demise, the wife of the Knave’s to be precise, then raising his arm up to—

“Fucking imbeciles.”

—to fall in front of you beheaded, with warm and thick blood splattered against you and the child in your arms. You opened your eyes to look up but you already knew who it was and to your horrific relief, it was your wife covered in blood who stood menacingly in the background. Her hand letting go of her scythe that she earlier held with a grip so tight, her hands trembled while she slayed the wretched men in blinded fury then she started to slowly walk towards you.

You gasped at the sight and immediately covered Lynette's eyes as she was no more than just a child who although you knew was no stranger to this kind of scenery, you still wanted to shield her from the gruesome sight. Nonetheless, still, you felt glee to see your wife.

As for said wife, Arlecchino’s chest was heaving in pure, unfiltered wrath and with no remorse stepped upon the men’s lifeless bodies in a rather harsh manner. Her sharp, pointed heels stabbed itself into the flesh as she made her way towards you through the fire she had caused in the midst of tearing the men apart just a few moments ago.

— but as soon as she reached you, the look in her eyes softened and all hostility she held had instantly melted away. Replaced by a vulnerable and fragile display of guilt and fear as the apathetic mask she’d mastered to put on for years straight had cracked for a brief moment out of fear for you. “My beloved, I am deeply sorry for arriving so late...” she apologized and her tone sounded so different than how she insulted the man who almost killed you. She gently pulled you up into her arms and held you and her daughter with a relieved sigh. 

“I didn't realize that a few had escaped and chased after you, my beloved. I am terribly, terribly sorry for making such a horrible mistake.” Her voice was shaky and you knew that behind the tough exterior she tried to put on, her heart was broken beyond a million pieces at the thought of almost losing you. 

“My dear, it is alright. Lynette kept me safe, and we are alive.” You tried to reassure her, but at the moment you had mentioned the word “alive”, the intense emotions kicked in as she was reminded of the fact that if she arrived just even a second late, you and her daughter would’ve been dead along with the men that lay on the ground. The raging embers of fury ignited once more, so she separated for a moment to summon countless burning crimson blades in thin air one after another, embedding it into the lifeless bodies that lay on the ground. After her little outburst, she looked at the burning men with a glare and held you tightly to keep you safe and secure to provide you solace, amidst the burning chaos of flames that surrounded all three of you.

“My beloved, if you were to die at the hands of such crooked men, tainted and ruined, I could never find it in my heart to watch the world prosper without you as it’d have no meaning at all.”

She spoke with such conviction that it felt like a comforting flame that soothed the fear in your heart but to those who dare lay a finger on you, this served as a threat as this same woman who held you and your child with such a gentle hold and looked at you with tender eyes swearing that she would be capable of attempting to kill the Tsaritsa with her bare hands in a heartbeat— if it meant protecting you.

There is no sane bone in her body, that was indeed a fact, but if you were to be taken away from her then she’d be willing to watch the world go poof, drowned in the flames of her agony of your loss if it were to ever happen.

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Let Me Take Care of You

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: you help Bucky relax after a long day 

Warnings: fluff!, Nudity kind of? I mean you give Bucky a bath but the fact he's naked isn't really brought up, Nonsexual massage, gratuitous use of pet names, mentions of anxiety

A/N: Bucky deserves all the gentle affection and soft touches and love and I plan to write him receiving them 😤😭💙💜

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

You heard the door slam, and knew that Bucky was home

Slowly, you sat up, poking your head over the couch to see your boyfriend kicking off his boots

“Hey, Sweet Boy,” you kissed his cheek when he sat down beside you, “how are you doing?”

He let out a grunt, crossing his arms over his chest and focusing on the TV with a little huff.

“Buck, talk to me,” you cupped his jaw, bringing his face to yours, “what's wrong, hm? Why are you so grumpy?”

“‘m always grumpy, according to Sam.” He mumbled.

“Not here, not with me.”

His blue eyes met yours, bright but bloodshot.

“Having a rough time right now, Doll. I'll be okay in a bit.” He took your hand and gently kissed the back of your palm, “jus’ some work stuff.”

You nodded sympathetically, wrapping your arms around him and all but forcing him to lay down with you.

Bucky needed some TLC and you were gonna give it to him, dammit.

He settled down on top of you, laying his head on your chest as your hand began to card through his hair.

Your free hand slipped under his shirt to rub his back, and that was when you felt it

His muscles were tense and taught, his entire back one big knot

That tore it for you

He needed more than some TLC

Bucky needed to be absolutely spoiled today, and you were going to make sure that he was

“Hey,” Bucky's eyes met yours, “I’m gonna go run you a bath."

“You don't have to do that, Doll,” he kissed your cheek, “don't go through all that trouble for me.”

“I wasn't giving you an option. I'm taking care of you today.”

“I'm sure you have more important things to do than fuss over me.”

“My Bucky needs some pampering, that's more important than anything.”

He smiled softly at you and kissed your lips, “thank you.”

“Of course, Baby.”

A bit later Bucky was settled in a warm bubble bath, relaxing as you massaged shampoo into his scalp.

You always took longer than you probably needed to when working the soap into his short hair, just so you could hear the content little hums he was making.

“Alright, Baby. Head back, I'm gonna rinse you,” he did as instructed and you gently ran the shower head over his hair, shielding his eyes

“I was thinking, one you're done with your bath I could work those knots out of your back for you,” you told him, kissing his forehead once you'd finished.

“You don't have to do that, Doll.”

“I know I don't have to. But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “your back has to be hurting all tied up like that, I want to make you feel better.”

Bucky smiled warmly.

“I love you,” he whispered as you helped him lean back against the porcelain, a relaxed sigh escaping him.

“I love you too, Baby.” You lovingly scratched his stubble, “I'm gonna go get out room ready, okay? You just stay here and relax, shout if you need me.”

He nodded and closed his eyes as you left him.

You turned down the bed and dimmed the lights, pulling up the 40s music playlist on your Spotify and letting it play softly in the background.

You put Bucky's favorite throw on the bed for him and set out a pillow before placing a bottle of lilac-scented lotion on the nightstand

You knew how much he loved the scent.

When you'd first started dating he had brought you a bouquet of them, and had come to associate them with you.

Once the room was fully optimized for some Bucky pampering, you went to the kitchen, filled his water bottle, and filled a bowl with pieces of chocolate

Bucky didn't eat or drink nearly as much as he probably should, so you were always quick to feed and water him when you were caring for him like this

When everything was set you returned to your boyfriend and found him fighting to stay awake.

You chuckled fondly as you shook him awake, “c'mon Sweet Boy, time to get out.”

You dried his body with the softest towel you could find before dressing him in a pair of shorts and leading him into the bedroom.

He gasped when he saw the cozy atmosphere you had created for him.

“Doll, you didn't have to go through all this trouble for me–” he turned bright red as you cupped his face.

“Would you stop that?” You asked, stroking his cheek, “I know I don't have to do anything. I do this because I want to. I like taking care of you, I like knowing that I can help you feel good. It's what you deserve.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but you place a finger on his lips, “you've been through so much, Baby Boy. You've had to be so brave and strong. You deserve to be loved and taken care of and treated like something precious. Because you are. So please Baby, just let me take care of you.”

He crushed you in a hug, hiding his face in your hair.

“Thank you Doll,” he murmured as you wrapped your arms around his waist in turn.

“Any time, Buck.” You pulled away, leading him to the bed, “alright Baby, lay down on your stomach okay?”

He did as instructed, settling his head on the pillow, supporting his head with his arm.

“Can I get started, Sweetheart?” You asked, leaning down and kissing his shoulder.

He nodded, and you set to work.

Bucky gasped as you started to rub his back, the floral scented lotion cool against his skin.

You carefully worked out each individual knot, stopping and peppering little kisses along his spine every now and then.

You smiled at the happy little noises he was making, enjoying your soft touch.

Bucky had been with you for some time now, and he still couldn't comprehend how you could be so gentle with him

There was a pleasant fuzzy feeling creeping into his mind as you worked, blocking out every negative thought and anxiety Bucky had been carrying all day and allowing him to only focus on the here and now.

The way you massaged each taut muscle, working out each knot without causing him pain, the tender kisses you pressed to his back, it was so much more than he was used to

More than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, and far more than he thought he deserved. 

You finished his massage and pressed a kiss to his temple, “how're you feeling, Baby?”

He let out a little hum, making you smile.

“Do you need anything else?” You asked, carding a hand through his hair, “I thought we could take a nap.”

“Skin-on-skin?” he asked, looking up at you with pleading blue eyes.

“Of course, Honey,” You smiled and slipped off your shirt before climbing into bed beside him.

Bucky laid down on top of you, resting his head on your chest.

As he nestled into you, you grabbed his water bottle, “can I get you to drink something for me, Baby Boy?”

Bucky nodded and allowed you to slip the soft silicone mouthpiece between his lips, taking long, slow sips off the bottle.

“Good, Bucky,” you smiled, “are you hungry?”

He nodded, and you began to hold pieces of chocolate up to his mouth, feeding him with one hand and stroking his hair with the other

You knew that Bucky was an adult, fully capable of taking care of himself

But he'd taken care of himself for long enough, he deserved a break

And if that break came in the form of getting the skin-on-skin contact he desperately needed while being hand fed like a prince, then god dammit you’re gonna give it to him.

You’d give him the universe if he asked

Once he finished his chocolate, you noticed he was fighting to stay awake, his blue-gray eyes fluttering against your skin.

You kissed his forehead

“Take a nap, Sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you brushed his hair out of his eyes and kissed his cheek, “sleep tight, Baby. I love you.”

“Thank you for taking care of me, Doll,” he whispered as he drifted off.

You smiled softly and kissed his forehead.

“Always, Bucky.”

[lilacxquartz]

Hi! I’m Lilac! I write all sorts of things from smut to adventure to fluff to dark content. Below you’ll find a list of everything I have posted to tumblr so far. I have even more stuff on AO3 but it’s all cross-posted on tumblr for the recent stuff.

If you want to read a series (3 or more chapters), then I have a chapter directory for your convenience. 💜

Warnings might apply, please be mindful of tags and read at your own risk if it‘s something potentially upsetting.

On requests, please read here.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Homicipher Masterlist

Gravity Falls Masterlist

Original works masterlist

Uncategorised Fandom Masterlist (includes a list for fields of mistria, attack on titan, chainsaw man and mob psycho 100, but ultimately, not enough works to get its own main list)

Kinktober 2024

JJK Bite Sized Yandere Nightmares

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Epilogue: It’s Not Over ‘Til You’re Underground]

A/N: We've finally reached the end of the Oregon Trail, besties!!! Enjoy this one last treat to celebrate the conclusion of Martyrs 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Both the series title and epilogue title are lyrics from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Word count: 4.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Autumn is the harvest, ripping up roots, preparing for the starving time of winter, and so you step through the threshold of your new life as the world is ending again.

“I knew the chances,” Sophie says when you tell her what happened; but she can’t look at you, because of course she wishes it was Rio who made it to Odessa instead, and you don’t blame her. She breaks down and leaves the house, and you sit there—silent, sorry, self-loathing��for a long time with Rio’s weeping parents and Aegon’s arm draped across the back of your chair. But then Sophie comes back inside, and through tears she says it’s nice to meet you in person at last, and then she asks if you’d like to hold Rio’s son.

Here it is commonplace to see M16s and AR-15s, marijuana growing in gardens, a myriad of flags flying from homes—Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024, American flags, rainbow flags, porcupines of the Libertarian Party—and order is maintained by an elected council of longtime Odessa residents. For anyone to be allowed into the community, somebody already here must take responsibility for them, and so the seven of you—eight, counting Ice—spend the first few months sleeping on Rio’s parents’ living room floor and eating meals out of their cellar, enough self-stable food to last for years. You join the construction crew and help build houses, Cregan cuts down trees and fishes and hunts, Helaena shows Aegon how to garden and Sophie teaches Luke to bake bread. There are no doctors here, but there are several unlicensed midwives and a veterinarian named Ian Whitted. Rhaena studies under him—attending every appointment and taking copious notes in the spider notebook Helaena gifts her, sharing what she learned from Aemond—and before long her sutures are quicker and cleaner than Ian’s. Daeron, considered too young and inexperienced for the most dangerous work, is posted with his compound bow inside the village to serve as a guard. He resents this until he realizes there are far more women to flirt with here than out in the forest where wolves and bears prowl and the dead rove with incurable hunger.

You work from dawn to sunset; you work so you have no time to think. The baby doesn’t feel real, and neither does Aemond being gone, and the future is so unimaginable you’d rather not try to imagine it at all. Because you’re a good shot, they want you for patrols and raids of nearby towns to search for supplies, and you take every shift you’re offered until Rhaena says you have to stop. She tells you that each time you leave, Aegon watches the door until you walk through it again, that it’s not good for him, that it’s not good for you either. She says you can’t keep running from what’s happened.

“I’m not trying to run away,” you tell her where she’s cornered you by one of the wells, lilac twilight sky and glimmers of stars, hoots of owls and children laughing as they roast marshmallows over crackling fires. “I’m trying to find my way through.”

“Fine,” Rhaena replies firmly, no room for argument. “But you’re going to do that in here where it’s safe.”

The new houses have wooden walls and kitchen fireplaces made of stones, beds with feather mattresses, plots for gardens and pens for ducks, chickens, pigs, sheep, goats, turkeys, cattle. Helaena and Cregan move into one cabin, Rhaena and Luke share another, and you have the last to yourself, the first time you’ve ever lived alone. Aegon and Daeron float around between the houses, more often than not ending up in yours as the sun is dipping below the tree line into the west, Daeron carving wooden cutlery with a hunting knife, Aegon cuddling with Ice on the deerskin rug, luring you into disastrous baking attempts and games of Uno and telling stories about Washington D.C., Djibouti, Key West, Corpus Christi, Chinhae, Diego Garcia, Saratoga Springs before the dead began to walk.

Thanksgiving dinner is at Rio’s parents’ house, Sophie’s baby sound asleep in his blue sling, candles flickering and Ice lying beneath the table to gulp down scraps that fall to the floor: roasted turkey, hazelnut stuffing, buttered carrots, mashed potatoes, pickled beets, salad with homemade ranch dressing, pumpkin pie for dessert.

“God, I miss chilidogs,” Aegon mutters beside you, and you laugh—a real laugh, loud and helpless, a lightness flooding into your arteries and the marrow of your bones—for the first time since Aemond died.

“You have to try this,” Sophie says, pouring you a small glass of moonshine distilled with apples and cherries and cinnamon. Everybody else has already had a taste except Aegon. He doesn’t drink anymore, doesn’t smoke the weed people grow here, only keeps a few tobacco plants in your garden to enjoy on rare occasions.

“I can’t,” you tell Sophie, staring at the amber-colored moonshine. You are over three months along and will be showing soon. It materializes all at once, shifts from a hazy apparition to something in full focus: next Thanksgiving you will have a fatherless infant of your own.

Sophie is puzzled. The glass of moonshine waits untouched on the table. “Why not?”

“Because I’m pregnant,” you say.

Aegon chokes on his pumpkin pie. “You’re what?!”

And everyone except Helaena drops their forks and leaps up to engulf you: How long have you known? How far along are you? Why didn’t you tell us? How can we help?

You stop lifting heavy things and stay off of ladders. Helaena brings you kale and mushrooms, Sophie knits you baby clothes, Rio’s mom makes you candles infused with essential oils, lavender, chamomile, ginger, and you lie and say they make a difference. Aegon helps you build a crib; you don’t need his help, but still, he insists. Smiling to himself, he etches two words into the headboard: Mini Chips. Wheat is planted in the fields to the north of the village. Scrap metal is scavenged for the blacksmiths to melt down to make nails and bullets. You learn to sweeten desserts with honey instead of sugar and to hold your hand flat when you feed the baby goats so they won’t nibble your fingers. You wait for winter to thaw and summer to come back around again.

It is what people would call a bad birth: hemorrhaging and lots of stitches, Rhaena squinting in the glow of the flashlights trying to piece you back together, rain outside and no lidocaine. You can’t stop crying. You feel like you’re going to die, and you’re shaking too badly to hold your own child, and you want Aemond. He would know what to do, he would know how to make the world go quiet. And the truth that he will never meet his daughter hits you over and over again like cold lethal waves, like bullets that pierce the heart.

Aegon is here instead, and you want to cling to him but you can’t; if all the others could die, so can he. But even when you look away from him to stare at the wall he stays, his hand clutching yours and never complaining even when you squeeze it hard enough to leave bruises that paint him maroon and indigo, tilting glasses filled with fresh pomegranate juice against your lips, asking Rhaena and Ian what you will need from him as you recover. Slowly the house empties and everyone goes home, but Aegon stays through the night and never leaves again.

Harmony cries a lot, as if she already knows she’s lost someone. She has trouble nursing and only sleeps for a few hours at a time. People are always coming in and out of the house: Sophie with handknit clothes and blankets for the baby, Helaena with flowers and fruit and vegetables, Rhaena with loaves of Luke’s fresh-baked bread, Cregan with firewood. At first Aegon is better with Harmony than you are. You love her, of course, and you mourn for the life you cannot give her; but you can��t shake the feeling that someone left her on your doorstep, this fragile bewildering creature you are so unequipped to soothe. Yet Aegon picks her up and she stops crying. He carries her around the house and murmurs nonsense—rules of golf, sailing knots—and she gazes up at him mesmerized; and in the peace that grows from him like weeds, wild and inevitable, you can heal.

Aegon helps you walk for the first week after the birth. He brings you meals, overflowing plates you can never finish. He respectfully averts his eyes when you nurse the baby and when he passes the bedroom as you’re changing clothes, slowly and inelegantly, every muscle feeling shredded. He falls exhausted into bed beside you with his arms crossed over his chest so he won’t reach for you in his sleep. You keep waiting for him to start craving marijuana and moonshine, to meet someone who makes him wayward again while you are left here alone, morose and unglamorous and bleeding. You care about Aegon—entirely, violently—but you are convinced you’ll never love a man again. Perhaps love is something that is always doomed to be broken, ruinous, poisoned.

When Harmony is about four months old, you begin to see Aegon differently. You can’t stop staring at the way his hair shags over his eyes when he’s bent low in the garden, you hide behind walls and listen each time you catch him singing to himself, you feel a dark desperate sense of loss when other women flirt with him, though Aegon is never more than polite in return. You find excuses to touch him, and he always acquiesces: Let me bandage the cuts on your hands, let me dab honey on your sunburn.

One night you wake to find Aegon with Harmony in the kitchen, humming and rocking her in his arms as he paces back and forth across the wood floor in his bare feet, the full moon radiant through the window, the fireplace crackling. He glances over when he notices you standing in the doorway and says: “I think this is the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

“Aegon?”

“Yeah, Chips.”

“I’m in love with you.”

At first he is startled, and then he smiles in the firelight, a slow mischievous curve of the lips that puts stars in his eyes and shows his teeth. “Took you long enough.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly ten years ago, you were learning how to be a builder at Class A Technical School in Gulfport, Mississippi, salt and sun and sweet tea and humidity that lies heavy like a second skin you can’t shed. Today you are hammering nails into boards that will be a wall of the new meeting house, twice the square footage of the old one. The community here keeps growing.

“Watch out for your fingers, Zack Attack.”

 Zack looks over at you. He’s a kid, nineteen, and he’s only been here a week. He left Beaumont, Texas with a group of thirty people, one of them the cousin of a council member here. Twelve were left when they arrived. “Huh?”

“You’re holding the nail too close to the bottom,” you say. “If you swing the hammer and miss—and you will miss, everyone does sometimes, even me—you’ll crush your fingers against the wood. But if you hold the nail up near the top, the hammer will kind of knock them out of the way as it comes down, and you won’t have to worry about Rhaena or Ian popping your bones back into place.”

“Oh, cool! Thanks!” Zack readjusts his hands. “Where’d you learn to do all this?”

“The Navy.”

“Right. That makes sense.” He gives you a crooked, conspiratorial grin. “I heard you’re a good shot.”

“I am, I guess.” You don’t do patrols anymore, but you’re on the list of people to call when there’s a security breach, and you go because you have to. If Odessa is ever overrun, that will be the end of the life you’ve made here. The last scare was two months ago, a hoard that wandered up from the south, probably out of Klamath Falls. Someone knocked and you answered, leaving Aegon standing in the doorway with troubled eyes, Noah in his arms asking: Where Mama go? And Aegon had told him She’ll be back soon, buddy, but of course no one had known if that was true.

Now Zack says admiringly: “A real killer.”

You smile and give him a slap on the shoulder as you start climbing down the ladder. “I’d rather be a builder.”

“You heading out?”

“Yeah, my kids probably miss me.”

“See ya tomorrow. Bring more of Aegon’s raspberry crumb muffins.”

You laugh. “If there are any left.”

Down on the ground, bumblebees orbit tufts of wildflowers and cats prowl for mice. Sitting cross-legged on the grass are kids rubbing nails against bars of goat milk soap; it makes them go into the wood easier. They play the same way you did as a child: in the dirt, in the wild, tracking animals and building dams in the creek. They wave as you pass by. Everyone knows each other here. Everyone knows what you can do with the Beretta M9 in your holster.

Beside one of the wells, Daeron is helping a flock of tittering, blushing women pull up their buckets and plucking stray blades of grass and pine needles out of their hair. He is easily the most eligible bachelor in Odessa, and in no hurry to take himself off the market. By the schoolhouse, two teenagers are petting Ice as they listen to Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman and rap along to Gold Digger: “You will see him on tv, any given Sunday, win the Super Bowl and drive off in a Hyundai…”

But at Sophie’s house, the song you hear is Darius Rucker’s Wagon Wheel, drifting from a battery-powered boombox containing one of Rio’s dad’s cassette tapes. Aegon is already here and dusted with earth, your children clamoring around his legs as he chats with Sophie at the edge of the garden: zucchini, snap peas, tomatoes, strawberries, spinach, potatoes, cucumbers, carrots, kale. When Aegon sees you, he lights up and says to the kids: “Look! Look who’s here!” And you crouch down and open your arms so you can catch all three of them as they barrel into you on small, wobbly legs.

The second birth was much easier, the third only lasted an afternoon. Opal, three years old, is named after a gemstone that Sophie told you symbolizes hope and clarity; Noah, two and with unruly blonde hair like Aegon’s, shares a name with the man who started over when the world flooded and all the generations before were lost. You pick him up before he can trip over his own feet.

“Mama, come see!” Harmony shouts, grabbing your free hand and dragging you to a hutch full of fluffy, multicolored rabbits. Aegon is walking over to join you, his hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his lips, long blonde hair and stubbled cheeks.

“Are these the new meat rabbits?” you say without thinking, and Aegon widens his eyes at you.

Harmony peers up with a worried frown. She’s getting too smart to be shielded from such harsh realities. “Why did you call them meat rabbits?”

Aegon swoops Harmony off the ground to distract her. “Because they’re so excited to meet you!” he says as she giggles and kicks through open air.

“What are their names?” you ask to change the subject.

“Arrax,” Opal says in her toddler lisp, pointing to a grey one. And then, indicating a rabbit with long, reddish-tan fur: “Morning.”

“Those are such nice names!” you gush, a bit perplexed. Children have a certain mystery to them, one foot still in the Great Beyond, wherever souls wait to be born and reunited.

“And this one is Sunfyre,” Harmony announces proudly, reaching through the wire to scratch its straw-colored coat.

“Sunfyre?!” Aegon says. “Well now you’re just making shit up.” A pause. “Stuff. You’re making stuff up.”

“And Sunfyre is married to Dreamfyre.”

“Cute,” Aegon says. “Incestuous, but cute.”

“The post-apocalypse dating pool is limited,” you remind him.

“Have you met the Texas people yet?” Sophie asks you as she wanders over to the hutch in a handknit yellow dress, wearing elephant earrings that Rio once mailed home to her from Djibouti.

“Yeah, some of them are working on the meeting house. They seem really nice. And apparently they know how to barbeque, so that’s exciting. New recipes!”

Sophie smirks. “When they dropped by to introduce themselves, I had to have the whole conversation again.”

“Well…you did name your kid Otter.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Sophie says, chuckling, showing her palms. “I did not name him Otter.”

“You named him Bryan Otter Osorio. And you call him Otter.”

“Because he’s a little kid and it’s a perfectly fine nickname for now! And then when he’s older…you know…he can decide who he wants to be.”

You smile. “Sure.”

“I think it’s great, personally,” Aegon says. “I’m hoping I’ll get to name my next one Softshell Turtle.”

“Absolutely,” you deadpan. “And what if it’s a girl?”

“Softshell Turtle is obviously unisex.”

Sophie is laughing and shaking her head. “I hate you guys.”

Helaena and Cregan arrive to pick up their children, two sets of twins, all named after species of butterflies: Skipper, Adonis, Tiger, Sara. Rio’s parents bring them outside to the garden to be collected. They and Sophie like to keep the house full of children, especially now that Otter is getting older. And when they need meat or firewood or their roof patched, they know who to ask.

“I’m so sorry,” Sophie tells Helaena and Cregan as they wrangle their brood. “I’m mortified. Adonis ate Harmony’s oatmeal raisin cookie and made her cry, so Otter smacked him in the head with his golf club.” Aegon has carved miniature, lightweight clubs out of pine wood for each of the children; they zip around putting acorns and walnuts. “Adonis was freaked out but I think he’s fine now. I couldn’t find a bruise or anything. Again, I’m so, so, so sorry.”

“You okay, buckaroo?” Cregan asks, and his oldest son—brunette man bun, already pestering his dad to take him hunting—nods adamantly.

“Duh. It didn’t even hurt.”

Cregan guffaws and turns back to Sophie. “See? No harm done.”

Otter trots out of the house, rubbing his eyes like he just woke up from a nap. Harmony immediately runs over to hug him. He’s already six inches taller than her and is always giving her gifts that end up on the fireplace mantle at your house: flecks of quartz, pinecones, bracelets woven from buttercups.

Sophie asks Otter: “Did you think about what you did earlier?”

“Yeah,” he replies cavalierly.

“Would you do it again?”

“Probably.”

“Oh dear,” Sophie exhales, exasperated.

You beam down at Otter. “He’s exactly like Rio.”

“Yeah,” Sophie says wistfully, combing her fingers through his dark curly hair. “He really is.”

Rhaena and Luke happen to be strolling by and stop to say hello. Luke teaches English classes at the schoolhouse, founded the Cultural Preservation Committee, and writes and directs a new play each month. When he is in the lull between original ideas, he draws from pre-zombie pop culture. The June production is Free Britney.

“Hi!” Rhaena says, waving. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?” All the adults offer greetings and confirm they’ll swing by her and Luke’s cabin in a few hours. Then Rhaena shields her eyes from the sun as she sighs incredulously. “Do you realize there are ten women due in the next two weeks? I spend all day rushing around because they’re panicking about Braxton Hicks contractions. If I get one full night’s sleep between now and mid-July, it’ll be a miracle. Am I the only human alive who knows how to use the rhythm method? I explain it! I give lessons!”

You laugh and say: “I think people just really want babies, Rhaena.”

“They’re so sweet,” Helaena coos as she snuggles Sara against her chest.

“Gotta repopulate the planet,” Cregan adds.

Rhaena is disturbed. “I don’t feel ready for that.”

“Totally cool,” you assure her. “Helaena and I are keeping the average up.”

That night, logs pop and hiss in the fireplace and wind howls outside through the forest. On the walls are photographs of Aemond and Helaena and Daeron, drawings that the children have scribbled of you and Aegon. Propped in one corner of the living room is Aegon’s acoustic guitar; Harmony’s current favorite song for him to play is Big Girls Don’t Cry, though a slightly censored version of Fergalicious is a close second. Tomorrow is Aegon’s birthday. You have a cake hidden in one of the kitchen cabinets—cinnamon, honey, buttercream frosting—that you baked this morning before leaving for the construction site, along with 35 small homemade candles dyed green with chamomile. Every year he assumes you’ve forgotten, but you never do. You’re so thankful he was born. You are eternally finding new ways to convince him of this.

All five of you cuddle up in the big bed for story time. You begin as you always do, struggling to capture the kids’ attention as they crawl around giggling and rolling on top of each other: “Hey, hey, everyone look at me. You remember what we say.” Harmony knows this part my heart, Opal has the words mostly right, Noah gives it a solid effort as he mauls on a teddy bear Sophie knitted for him. “You’re beautiful. I love you. You’re doing the right thing.”

“What story should Mama tell tonight, huh?” Aegon asks as you open the book of fairytales borrowed from the makeshift community library, another one of Luke’s projects. “The Little Mermaid, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Beauty and the Beast…oh wait, I think I might be in that one…”

Harmony says to you: “Tell the story about how Aemond saved us from the tower.”

Children understand death here. People get infections, people succumb to cancer or heart attacks or strokes or diabetes, people go out on raids or patrols and never come back, one man contracted rabies from a bat bite and was—at his request—euthanized via gunshot. Harmony is aware she had a father before Aegon, but that he had to go to heaven early, and so Aegon is her father now and loves her completely. She knows Aemond’s face from the photographs Helaena took from the beach house on the Pacific Ocean. She knows the kind of person he was from the stories she’s been told. Harmony envisions a fantastical castle keep instead of a stark metal transmission tower draped in dead wires, and she’s a bit unclear on the chronology of when she entered the picture, but she has heard about the journey to Odessa. Aegon’s map, annotated with glittery green gel pen ink, hangs on the kitchen wall.

You close the book, looking at Harmony: your hair, Aemond’s eyes. “Okay. I can tell that one.”

“Mama…” Her little forehead crinkles, questions she is at last getting old enough to start asking. “Why do some people have to go to heaven before they’re old?”

You hesitate, trying to decide how to explain; and now embers are glowing hot and scarring in your throat. It’s a fire that cools and rekindles but never burns out. Aegon speaks instead. “Because they’re heroes, Mini Chips,” he says gently. “They go to heaven so other people get to stay here longer. Aemond went to heaven so you and your mom could live here in Odessa with me.”

“So Otter’s daddy was a hero too?”

Aegon leans down to kiss the top of her head, his eyes shining. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Not just a hero, you think. A martyr. Someone who dies for a cause.

Harmony is patting your arm with her tiny outstretched hand. “The tower, Mama. Tell us about the tower.”

Now you are there again with Rio: sixty feet off the ground and clinging to metal beams hot enough to put blisters on your palms, cascading June sunlight and wild emerald fields, blood and madness behind you, the mirage of Oregon ahead, believing without reason that someone out there will save you.

And they will; they will.

[silenzahra]

💚 Follow Me 💜

Not long ago, my dear twin bro @megamagimugi started introducing me to his favorite band, Muse. One of the first songs he exposed me to, Follow Me, really spoke to me. More specifically, I felt it as Luigi singing to his daughter, my OC Violet Fiorella. It was so beautiful and inspiring that I ended up writing something.

And this is what I'm bringing tonight! 😄 It's been a while since I last shared a story with y'all, so I really hope you'll enjoy this little father and daughter moment with Luigi and my fankid. But first, lemme share the song that inspired the entire thing with y'all! 🎶

And without further ado, as always, you can continue reading below! Comments, reblogs and kudos are more than welcome and appreciated, I always love to hear what my readers have to say about my stories 🥰

Enjoy!! 💚💜

✨ AO3 LINK ✨

💚 Follow Me 💜

Luigi is awakened from the restless sleep he had managed to fall into due to persistent crying that pierces the night.

He sits up immediately, alarmed, and allows himself only a second to get his bearings. The moonlight streaming through the window allows him to see that, fortunately, Daisy is still asleep beside him. His poor wife is exhausted after spending the whole day alone with Violet, a sweet and affectionate little girl, but also very active and reckless. Like mother, like daughter, and in this case like uncle, like niece too.

Luigi knows that if he loved her any more, his heart would burst.

After quickly caressing his Fiore’s cheek and removing a strand of hair from her face, taking care not to wake her, Luigi pulls back the sheets and gets out of bed. As he puts on his slippers, he can still hear the crying, sad and desperate, as if the little person making the sound feels abandoned and forgotten by everyone. Luigi knows that feeling all too well, but just as his brother, his wife, and his best friend were there for him, he’ll always be there for his Fiorellino.

Polterpup is waiting for him in the hallway. His ghost puppy has proclaimed himself the guardian and protector of the youngest member of the family since her arrival, and every time she cries, if he can't find a way to help her himself, he rushes to find Luigi or Daisy so that his young mistress won’t be left unattended. The plumber pats Polty affectionately on the head and scratches him behind the ears, and smiles to himself when he notices that the spectral creature is following him to Violet's bedroom, next to her parents'. He’s touched by how seriously his dog takes his role and how well he and his daughter get along. Also, as a father, it’s a relief to know that his little flower will always have a faithful and loyal protector by her side.

When he opens the door, the yellow owl-shaped light shining on the soft lilac wall allows him to make out the shape of his little girl in her crib. Just as Luigi expected, she’s standing up, whining and clinging to the bars, probably wishing she could find a way out, fortunately without success. Ever since Violet started walking and showed that she’d inherited her dad’s agility, both her parents have grown concerned in case their daring and courageous daughter will ever manage to escape from her cradle and they won’t be around to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.

But now their little girl is alone and needs her father.

“Ciao, piccolina,” Luigi greets her, his tone low and warm.

Violet stops crying as soon as she sees him and, with teary eyes, reaches out her little arms toward him, her Fire Flower plush forgotten on her pillow. Luigi smiles tenderly and bends down to carefully pick up his baby. His daughter clings to his green summer pajamas as soon as he holds her against his body, and hides her head in his chest with such desperation that it tears Luigi's heart apart.

“Did you have another nightmare, Violetta?” he whispers as he holds her close.

Violet has just turned one year old four days ago, but she’s already shown her intelligence on numerous occasions, which, according to Daisy, she also inherited from him. And now she does it again, as, without breaking the contact with her dad, she nods against his chest in a clear indication that she understands, then snuggles even closer against the light fabric of his pajamas, seeking his warmth and protection.

“Oh, mia piccola Fiorella...”

Luigi's hand almost completely covers his little girl's back as he hugs her. He caresses her gently and kisses her head, where a thick tuft of hair the same color as his has already grown. Violet is wearing a thin lilac bodysuit with a yellow daisy print that contrasts with her dark skin, exactly like Daisy's, so Luigi leans over her crib for a moment. The green wool blanket with the emblem of the Royal House of Sarasaland that his mother knitted for Violet shortly after she was born lies on top of the mattress, so he carefully spreads it over his baby to keep her warm. It's not cold yet, October hasn't started, but the temperature drops at night, especially in Birabuto Kingdom, a mostly desert land.

Besides, this is Violet's third night sleeping in her own room. She was moved there the day after her first birthday, reluctantly by both Luigi and Daisy, but especially by the girl herself. They know that this is a step they’d have had to take sooner or later, but they both miss having their daughter in their bedroom. Above all, Luigi misses the nights when they ended up placing Violet in the middle of the mattress so that she could have the shelter of both her mom and her dad to help her sleep better and more soundly. It worked like a charm.

Luigi always had the sweetest dreams on those nights. After all, the last thing his eyes saw was the image of his two flowers sleeping in each other's arms, his violet with her thumb in her mouth, his daisy with an expression of pure serenity shining on her face. When he fell asleep, Luigi had one hand resting on his daughter's tiny body, feeling her steady, peaceful breathing, while his forehead brushed against his Fiore's.

It was his favorite way to sleep.

Now, even though both he and Daisy are able to rest due to the fatigue accumulated during the day, they both miss the feeling of sleeping with their little girl snuggled between them. And, of course, Violet longs to feel the warmth of her parents, or at least to have them in the same room as her when she wakes up in the middle of the night.

His daughter feels abandoned.

And Luigi can't let that happen.

He knows all too well what it's like to feel lost and alone in the dark, with his loved ones far away and unable to find peace without them. He understands all too well that this is causing his Fiorella to have nightmares, and he’s determined to find a way to banish them forever, just as he did with Mario shortly after their first adventure in the Mushroom Kingdom. He’s tried different stories and tales, something he started doing when Violet was still forming in Daisy's womb, and it’s almost always worked. The only exceptions were the endless nights when his little girl cried and cried because she was teething, and her exhausted parents could only count the hours until it was safe to give her medicine again so that the three of them could try to get a few minutes of sleep.

Luigi has a feeling that, just like back then, stories won't work this time either. Violet, like Daisy and Mario, loves his storytelling skills and always listens to him intently, and he couldn't be happier or prouder that his little girl, like him, is a lover of stories and needs them to fall asleep.

But there's something else that Violet, like everyone else in their family, also loves.

So, without hesitation, Luigi decides to try his other passion, the one that connects him to his brother, his wife, and now his daughter. Hoping it will help her relax and find solace, the plumber clears his throat and strokes Violet's baby hair.

“When darkness falls and surrounds you...”

His voice is barely a whisper, as he doesn't want to wake Daisy by accident. With his daughter in his arms, keeping her warm with her wool blanket, Luigi begins to pace around the room. Polterpup has laid down next to Violet's crib and curled up on the green rug that Daisy placed there the day they decorated the room that would be their daughter’s. It ended up being a curious but perfect mix of the three of them: the thin curtains and the carpet are a soft forest green; the armchair next to the crib is a warm orange, as is the shelf where the girl's first books rest; and the walls and ceiling, in honor of the name Luigi and Daisy chose for their daughter, were painted lilac.

Therefore, with a little bit of green and a little bit of orange, Violet's parents are present in her bedroom, wrapping her in their love.

“When you fall down,” Luigi continues, “when you're scared and you're lost...”

The plumber lets his voice fade slowly and remains silent for a moment. He stops in front of the window and pulls back the curtain, allowing the bright moonlight to flood in. Seeing it through the glass, huge and full, presiding over the night in Sarasaland, Luigi squeezes Violet and rests his cheek on her hair before singing the next verse. Feeling her tiny fingers resting on his back and collarbone melts his heart and brings a smile to his lips.

“Be brave,” he sings, caressing Violet's cheek with his thumb and rocking her gently, hoping his message will sink in. “I'm coming to hold you now.”

His daughter hugs him tighter when she hears these words. Violet has always loved being in her dad’s arms, ever since she was born, and Luigi's soul soars knowing that he is his little girl's safe haven. He intends to always be there for her, ready to hold her no matter what, and hopes he’ll be able to teach her to be strong like her mother, determined like her uncle, kind like her aunt, and, perhaps, brave like her father.

“When all your strength has gone and you feel wrong, like your life has slipped away...”

He rocks Violet a little more as he continues singing. His daughter is still clinging to him, but she's doing so with less force, less desperation, and Luigi scores a small victory as he realizes that he is, slowly but surely, succeeding in calming his baby.

“Follow me,” he sings, putting a little more firmness into his voice. “You can follow me. And I, I will not desert you...”

He pulls her closer and rubs his cheek against her tiny head. He knows Violet is very young, but given her intellect and skills, he hopes his words and, above all, his fatherly love will sink deep into his daughter's heart.

“When your fire's dried out, no one's there, they have left you for dead...”

Luigi can hardly believe that there was a time in his life when the little treasure he holds in his arms, snuggled against his chest and grasping his t-shirt, did not exist.

He still remembers the joy that overwhelmed him when he and Daisy found out that they’d soon be one more, that it would no longer be just the two of them, but him, her, and a little baby who would be proof of all the strong and deep love they have for each other. Luigi got extremely emotional the first time he and Daisy could listen to their child’s heartbeat, and even though he was being struck by all his fatherly love that was still very new to him, he recalls Daisy being also quite affected. He’s aware of the great effort his wife made that day not to burst out crying like he did. He still hugged her though, willing to comfort her while he, too, sought for her comfort.

And more than one year later, here he is now: hugging this tiny part of himself, beautiful and cheerful and so much like him and her mom, who’s come to fill his world with laughter, madness, infinite joy, and a love so boundless and fierce that it cannot fit in his chest. Luigi often feels that his heart will expand throughout his body in search of more space to contain all the intense and wonderful emotions that his daughter makes him feel.

Luigi has had many fantastic adventures with his older brother, his best friend, and, of course, his beloved wife.

But without a doubt, becoming Violet's father is the greatest adventure he’s experiencing.

“Follow me, you can follow me. I will keep you safe.”

Still rocking her, he squeezes her again, his protective instinct flowing through his veins and controlling his actions. A sudden mirth spreads through his body when he hears his daughter's giggle, and he feels her hug him back. Luigi looks away from the moon and a moved smile blooms on his lips as he watches the peaceful expression on his little girl's face as she embraces him with all her might.

“Follow me,” he murmurs, his voice a little shaky. “You can follow me.”

He allows himself a second to simply enjoy contact with his daughter and, of course, to hold her close with all his love, relieved to have finally found a way to make her feel better. Music has always been very important to Luigi. He and Mario learned to create their own melodies when they were young, and Luigi continued to do so after he started dating Daisy. He was, and still is, so in love with her that he simply couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, contain himself.

That's why, just as he used to tell Violet stories before she was born, he also sang countless songs to her. He and Daisy often sing together and perform little duets while dressing or bathing their daughter, to distract her and make everything more fun, more like a game. But also to comfort her in moments of sadness or pain. Luigi usually finds it harder to sing at those times, as his heart weeps to see his baby girl suffer. He’s deeply grateful that Daisy notices and starts singing so that he, guided and helped by the calmness she gives, can join in soon after.

And Violet loves it when her parents sing to her and always asks them for more. In fact, at night, if she’s still awake after her dad’s story concludes, she’s lulled to sleep by the lullabies he sings to her.

So Luigi hopes that his message, his promise that he’ll always keep her safe and sound, will be engraved in Violet's memory and that she’ll never forget it.

And he adds another one after taking a deep breath to regain the strength of his voice.

“I will protect you.”

And he will do so with his life if necessary.

“Oh, I won't let them hurt you,” he continues, and begins to move away from the window, though he doesn’t turn his back on it completely. “Hurt you, no.”

They’ll have to step over his dead body, and even then he’ll rise, like a living dead or a ghost, to continue protecting his daughter and prevent anyone from even trying to harm her.

Luigi will make sure they all pay.

“When your heart is breaking...”

His own heart shatters at the realization that, unfortunately, he won't always be able to prevent his precious child from suffering, no matter how hard he tries. But he shall be there to soothe and reassure her, and he hopes she understands that she’ll always have her father's support and comfort.

“You can follow me,” he continues. “I will always keep you safe.”

He looks down and meets his daughter's huge blue eyes, identical to Daisy's, fixed on him. A small smile graces her lips, a sign that she’s not only listening attentively, but also enjoying the song her dad is singing to her tonight. Satisfied, Luigi leans down slowly and holds his daughter's tiny head in his hand, and they both close their eyes for a second before their foreheads meet.

“Follow me. You can trust in me,” he assures her, smiling as he sings. “I will always protect you, my love.”

His last words are barely a whisper, just for his daughter, and he gently moves her away when he finishes the verse. Violet looks back at him intently and, smiling, raises her tiny hand to caress her dad’s cheek while bringing the thumb of her other hand to her mouth, which means that sleep is beginning to take hold of her. Luigi sighs, melting at the tender gesture, and leans down to kiss his girl's forehead, hoping that it’ll encourage her to close her eyes and rest in his arms.

“Feel my love,” Luigi sings in a soft whisper as he walks toward the armchair. “Oh, feel my love...”

Even though he knows he should put Violet in her crib, Luigi doesn't want to let her go. Taking care not to let the wool blanket covering her slip, the plumber sits down in the soft armchair, his feet resting on the green rug where Polterpup lays, wagging his tail without raising his head, also sleepy. Luigi makes sure his baby is snug against his chest and well covered. He tells himself he'll only stay like this for a few minutes, just long enough to enjoy the feeling of having his precious daughter asleep in his arms, breathing peacefully as she sucks her thumb, finally lost in sweet dreams. With all his fatherly love beaming on his face, Luigi strokes Violet’s soft hair and kisses her tiny head as he leans back.

“Sogni d'oro, mia piccola Fiorella,” he whispers. “Papà ti vuole bene.”

The placidness radiating from his sleeping baby induces him to rest his head on the back of the armchair and close his eyes for a moment, wanting to enjoy the feeling of sleeping with her once more. Before she grows up.

Little does he imagine that he’ll end up spending the whole night there and won’t wake up until Daisy enters the room in the morning, only to find a plumber sprawled out on the armchair, with a hand hanging over its arm and his legs stretched out in front of him, next to his ghostly puppy. In his other arm he cradles his daughter, who, fortunately, remains in the same position, her finger in her mouth as she sleeps soundly, covered by the green wool blanket that her grandmother knitted for her.

But that's a problem for tomorrow.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Jamie’s 2024 Favs ✨

Thank you for the tag @sanarsi @guiltyasdave 🩵 2024 has been a whirlwind, and I spent most of it here writing about that big, broad, silly old man ☺️ It’s very difficult to pick out some of my favorites because I love all of them, but I’ll say some of my top ones! These are all Joel Miller x fem! reader ones.

Saving What Was Lost - This has very quickly become one of my most favorite things to write! Joel being his big protective, soft self is just so comforting 🥹 I love this story with my whole heart.

Dark Shades of Innocence Lost - My next favorite. This story took me through all the emotions, and it all started with one single song that flooded me with the idea. I’m currently reworking it to be my debut novel, and my goal is to self-publish it sometime in 2026! 2025 will be all about getting the first draft ready and through the editor’s hands. Also getting the cover done in August by one of my favorite illustrators! Writing a book is so so much harder than writing fics, but I’ll gladly accept the challenge.

Fading Into Lilac Skies: Ahh. This is the one I keep going back to 🥰 I love how this one flowed and built into the song “Colors” by Halsey. I love these two very much and would very much like to write a part two when I get the chance.

Take Me to Wonderland: This was such a nostalgic and relaxing fic to write, and I just love how I got to tie the Alice in Wonderland world into Joel and reader’s. Definitely my comfort read 💜

Tear You Apart: There’s nothing more I love than writing angst, and this one was kind of like a little red riding hood x big bad wolf mix. I love them and think about them often!

Pulled by the Scarlet Reins: Another angsty witch trial one! Taylor Swift’s “Cassandra” inspired this one. Again, angst with a happy ending is my favorite thing to write.

Tagging some lovely fic writers and anyone who sees this 🩵 @sawymredfox @mountainsandmayhem @lotusbxtch @burntheedges @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @bageldaddy @joelstummy @beardedjoel @almostfoxglove

@magpiepills @almostempty @joelsdagger @joelsoftie @pedrospatch

@ozarkthedog @justagalwhowrites @macfrog

[permetutotheworld]

300 followers event!! MUTUALS ONLY - 2+

💙 give me a prompt and ill make a five-ten song playlist for it (check my fandom list for this)

💗 give me your favourite greek myth/mythological figure and ill write a poem for it

💜 ill make you a moodboard for a prompt you give me (could be a moodboard for you or a character or a ship, again, check my fandom list)

GENERAL REUQESTS - MAX 2

💕 ill give you my personal headcanons for a character (check my fandom list)

❣️ ill assign you one of my favourite books with only a vage explanation

💝 ill give you a short one or two line poem based off of your vibes

intro post here

@ryapper @just-some-demigod @icrytomyownpoetry  @duaamortaja @enjolrasingaround

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[caxde]

You said I can send requests and I'm gonna take you up on that offer, my friend.

I'm still in my SoftDad!Eddie brain rot. I'm rolling with the "Dada's Princess" here and imagining little Lua making a flower crown for Princess. Or them making them together to both be "Dada's Princess". Because I knowwwww just the sight of it would make Eddie just melt into a puddle.

Also, love your writing and your beautiful mind for creating such a cute story so far!

💜

Omg thank you soo much <33 i love getting request so this is ideal i ran with the flower crowns idea hope you like it <33 feel free to request anything you like!

bright eyes universe drabble ~1.6k girl!dad eddie

Spring was in full bloom. 

You had a day off, and you decided to sleep in, letting the sun rays that sneak in through your window slowly wake you up. It was recomforting, the mundane feeling of it all. 

So you enjoyed a hot long shower, singing every song that played on the tape that Eddie had gifted you as a thank you to watching over Lua. It had a little of them both, Bowie and The Smiths had been Lua’s idea -that much was clear- Metallica and Iron Maiden had to be his, but the Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac -you thought- Eddie had chosen because he had heard you singing them when you didn’t even notice you were doing so. A level of attention you were just realising now, in that moment as the hot water hitted your sore back. 

A slow morning called for a hot tea, like the ones you used to make for yourself before you had any real responsibilities. 

Your hair still somehow wet, brushed away from your face, and that gow that a much needed shower left on your face, you felt clean, soft from once. You grabbed the first clean top that was on your folded laundry pile, a baby blue colour that complimented your skin, some washed up dark jeans to cover your legs. 

You walked to your porch, wanting to let your hair dry while you just drank your cup. 

Little did you know, a little surprised waited in your door. 

A letter was hanging on your door, with a small yet thick piece of duct tape. 

Lilac drawings of misshaped stars and hearts decorated the page. 

It read: 

“Duchess Lua of the mighty Hawkins Trailer Park would like to invite Princess to her court outing this afternoon. We shall have a refreshing picnic by the lake, please, confirm your assistance with Eddie the Once Banished. 

Sincerely your dearest friend, Duchess Lua Munson.” 

It made you giggle, and blush at the same time. You could tell Eddie had put some thought into it, and the drawings Lua had made to the best of her ability made you want to keep this letter forever. 

Which you did, you folded neatly, letting it rest on your bedside table, before you found a place in your wall to hang it on. 

You walked back up. The cup let out a clicking sound when the little spoon made contact with it, once you set it down into the floor. 

You sat on the little steps, writing on your little pad that was pressed against your thighs, a response that was just as grandiose as the ask had been. 

It read: 

“Princess is more than happy to accept her Duchess Lua Munson invitation, and would like to know at what time she’s expected to arrive at her delightful trailer for the outing. Princess would like to inform Lady Munson that she’s excited to see her, and will make a treat for the picnic.” 

You decided to leave a little red kiss as your signature. A little present that Eddie will cherish for a longer time that you had thought. 

A stupid thought crossed your brain -more than a thought, an image- the two letters resting side by side, the paper now turning yellow, framed on a wall that the both of you share, Lua’s older now, maybe not the only daughter. 

You had to shake your head, so you wouldn’t get too caught into the dream, snap back into reality. 

-

Maybe it was stupid, or a bit childish but you were excited nonetheless. You switched your jeans for a flowy white sundress, the skirt reached your knees, the fabric had a faded small flower print all over. It was girly, but it was also spring, and for once, you didn’t care. 

Your hair was free of any ponytails, or buns or anything like that, and it felt good to let it fall down, being so used to pushing it away from your face when you were working. 

Eddie was a bit lost in you, not really focusing on what he should. 

Lua was holding your hand, and you both were walking in front of him. He was holding the bags with the food and everything you had prepared -with the added things he already had- and he let himself be lost onto the fantasy. 

Lua was telling you about the book he had just started reading for her as a bedtime story, and you kept asking questions, and she yapped in her mumbling voice as much and as excitedly as she could. He saw himself in her in those moments, when her tongue moved faster than her brain and she’d choke on her own words. Her free hand swanged in the air, and when she got caught on a word, she touched it, as a way to comfort herself. Eddie was starting to struggle to not tell you right there how he was feeling. How he was starting to get those scary big feelings. How he could actually see a life with you in it. 

Eddie didn’t want to scare you. 

So when you got close enough to the Lover’s Lake, and while you and Lua looked around for some spring flowers, he set the cloth down, the little sandwiches he had made on one side, chips for Lua, and a bit of cheese that you liked on the left side. The sponge cake you baked, and the rest of your -half eaten- chocolate bar on the right side. He got the drinks, begging you not to spend more things. 

He got a thermos of your favourite tea -he had finally learned how to make it and was eager to see your reaction- water and chocolate milk for Lua, and soda for him. Though deep down he knew he’d end up drinking your tea. 

He opened his arms as soon as he saw Lua running to him, her arms opened, her fist holding tightly to the wildflowers she had picked, you followed her closely, your laughter filling the air in his lungs. 

You kept laughing, everytime Eddie found something new to do, just so he could hear you. And in consequence, Lua chuckled along. From afar, it already looked out of a picture book, but what he couldn’t quite understand is how it felt like it too. 

“Dada?” Lua asked, once she had finished her piece of cake, spinning around so she could look at him. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you braid?” She pointed at her hair, a question he had to avoid a bit too often. 

“Bug, I’m rubbish at it, you know it.” He tried to plead with her, once again his voice gave in, breaking a bit. He had a tendency to do that when he had to tell her no, as if it would soften the blow. 

“Please?” She asked again, her eyebrows raising just like he did when he was asking for something he deeply wanted. You had seen that look when he didn’t want you to leave, or he wanted another kiss. With a soft giggle, you looked at the little scene, hoping to not intrude too much. 

“I can, if uh… if that’s okay.” Lua cheered and sat on your lap before you even knew if it was okay or not. 

You knew it was, Eddie had that thank you look on his face. 

He decided to do what he actually had learned, way back when he wasn’t living here, back when his mother lived. He knotted some of the wildflowers together, concertraing enough on it that his tongue covered his top lip, hearing his mother's voice singing low one to the top and knot over and over in his head. 

For once it wasn’t a painful memory. 

Rather a joyful one. 

Now it was his two little princesses and his mother’s voice. 

He placed it on top of your head, a kiss on your temple following it shortly after. 

“What’d you do?” You asked, touching your head with care. 

“Your crown, you needed one.” He points out, Lua’s eyes widened as she saw it. 

“No braid but yes crown?” She asked, not really believing the ability his dad had been hiding from her. 

“You know what we can do?” You asked her, trying to distract them both from the way your blood rushed to your cheeks. “Look.” You whispered it to her, as if it were a secret you both shared. 

You started grabbing the wildflowers that were scattered around the cloth, placing the stems in between the knots of her braids, small flowers blooming from her hair. As soon as Lua realised what you did, her hand touching it with as much care as she could gather she started screeching from laughter, a type of laugh that not only warmed you, but Eddie as well. 

She kind of jumped, though it felt more like a push, to your arms, screaming thank you repetitively, her excitement evident in her tone and gesture. 

Eddie just looked at the both of you, his little dream -much similar to yours, even if you didn’t know- nearing the reality right in front of him. 

You whispered to him, still holding Lua close to you “You’re full of surprises, huh?” 

“Anything for my girls.” The sincerity in which he said it made you blush, the widest smile on your face as you shook your head at him. 

“Idiot” You mouthed, no actual sound coming from you, careful that she wouldn’t hear a bad word. 

He inched closer to you, leaving a kiss on the highest point of your cheek, right next to your ear. 

“Hopefully yours.” He whispered. 

A promise he intended to keep.

-

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf @guineveresghost @saramelaniemoon @angel-upon

[liliewrites]

Hi, I love the way you write. You express the characters very well, I can really hear Arlecchino's voice in your sentences.

You can do one with Arlecchino x femreader? Where Arlcchino and reader are married and take care of the children together (would be great seeing reader being maternal with Lyney, Lynnett and Freminet) After reader arrived in their lives, parties and family moments were common. One day at a gymkhana held with all the children, a traitorous Fatui was ordered by an Arlecchino's enemy to kill Arlecchino while she was distracted, but Reader noticed and got in front of her, taking the hit. Reader almost dies and Arlecchino, Lyney, Lynnett and Freminet want revenge.

(Sorry for bad english)

HELLOOO ANONN:)) lmaoo sorry i was brainrotting a lot about this ask and i didn't know how to write it and end it because it's such a good idea and has a lot of potential.. anyw here u go and eat uppp!!:) also forgive me if i understood the word "gymkhana" wrong.. i just searched up the definition on google since i am not familiar with the word hihi..

-warning/s ; a bit of violence at a certain part:) besides that, none!:)

(men dni utc please!)

it was a fun, festive day for the children at the house of the hearth.

arlecchino and you had decided to host a fun little event for the kids, as both of you agreed that it'd be beneficial to the children not just for improving their skills, but for their enjoyment as well.

as of the moment, you and arlecchino were sitting on the side, lyney and freminet were currently tasked with helping and assisting the younger children, while lynette had mostly insisted on staying with you and arlecchino while helping out with organizing the event. you and your wife didn't mind much as you knew she was more introverted and a couple more helping hands would help a lot.

"mother, i believe that we should start the flag race soon.. shall we get the horses and the players ready?" lynette asked, looking down at the clipboard in her hands. you couldn't help but smile, lynette has grown into such a fine, young dependable lady. you pat lynette's head, giving her ears a little rub as praise. "yes, my dear. i would appreciate it too if you assisted them with getting on as well, see to it that none of them get injured." you told her, and she nods at you, her tail slightly wagging as she walks away. you couldn't help but chuckle, knowing that your praise didn't go unnoticed by your daughter.

"mother! mother! look, look!"

"don't i look cool, mother?"

"mother! this is so fun!"

left and right, children were all calling for your attention, and your heart was bursting in joy as you got up from your chair to approach them. you could see the smiles on their little faces and you knew they were enjoying themselves. one child ran up to you, holding freminet's hand and a drawing in another. she brought it up and showed you, smiling widely. "mother, ah- look! big brother fremi drew me an octopus!" she boasted, making freminet look to the side shyly. you couldn't help but feel proud of freminet, whom was usually alone and reserved, was now trying his best to get along and help out with the younger children. "my, what a lovely drawing, hm? mother is very glad that both of you are having fun." you smile, the turning your head to look at lyney as they both walked away. he was currently busy entertaining the audience (who were also kids) with his little magic tricks as they waited for the flag race. little eyes looked at their older brother with admiration, watching him unfold each trick with excitement.

and of course, as all this happened in the background, your wife was currently sitting from where you had currently sat with her on the side. arms crossed as she leaned on her chair, eyes watching over you and the children intently, yet the intimidating look had gone away from her face. instead, a soft look could be seen from her eyes, and she was sitting in a rather relaxed manner as she smiled at the sight of you with the children. her heart swelled joyously, seeing you interact lovingly with them, your laughter along with theirs ringing pleasantly in her ears as she made sure to capture each pretty smile you had on your face.

funny, as her comrades and enemies alike told her that "your wife is your weakness, knave. you've gone soft." if it were the old her, the old her that were full of hatred, of revenge-- devoid of the compassion and acceptance that you've taught her, it would've been an insult but right now? it was a fact, she knows it herself. you were her weakness, but you were not her drawback nor her flaw, but the weakness to the lost, angry soul that she was without you. you were the guiding hand that gave her a reason to continue watching over the house of the hearth, a proper one, unlike a certain motherly figure she came to know.

amidst the festivities, lyney had told everyone to calm down as the flag race was about to start. a big smile on your face as you stood there, instead of going back to sit with arlecchino, as the kids wanted to be with you.

everyone had got into position, the kids were safely mounted on the horses. the audience was cheering, and lyney was holding party popper to use as a signal cue. all of you were filled with thrill and excitement, as lyney counted off to start the race.

"alright, on your marks, hold tight!"

"get ready, set, and-"

before he could even pull on the string and say go, another loud bang was heard- and it was not from the party popper that lyney was holding.

much to everyone's horror, you were clutching your sides. you felt like you were slowly falling the floor, eyesight getting hazy, you were losing your senses quickly- everything was becoming blurry.

the whole event was silent before high pitched, loud screams calling your name could be heard as they ran towards you. the older trained kids, however, were sure to hold them back to give you space.

arlecchino, the moment she saw you get shot, wasted no time in rushing towards you to catch you. ".. d-darling, darling. are you okay? i got you, beloved.. i.." her eyes widened in shock, but her face froze in horror as she held you. warm, thick and sticky liquid pouring onto her and her clothes, but she didn't care.

"d.. darling, you-"

she was blinded with rage. all she saw was red and black, you just got shot, the perpetrator shouldn't have gone far. "children, find who did this. now!"

the older kids had gone and scattered, lyney and freminet leading them as lynette ushered the youngers ones to evacuate. as they dispersed, arlecchino held your body with gentleness and care, you weakly held onto her. ".. b-beloved, don't.. don't get the kids into this.." you pleaded, but arlecchino shook her head. you were in a critical situation, and yet, you still thought of the kids?

"my love, they are trained for this. have faith in our children, now, hold on. i will take you inside."

arlecchino gently lifted you up, holding you closely to her chest as she possibly can without hurting you. "don't pass out on me, beloved." she gently coaxed you as she brought you inside, trying to keep you awake.

as she finally got you in the clinic, the kids whom were trained in medical aid had prepared to take care of you while they waited for a real doctor to come. she gently laid you down on the bed, sitting next to you and she held your hand. every time the children made contact with your wound, you couldn't help but groan and moan- this was all being done with anesthesia after all. the sight of you crying in pain made arlecchino's chest tight with anger and fear. it was the first time the children saw their father become eerily quiet with such an expression on her face.

"father! we've caught the culprit!"

lyney came running in the clinic, panting. arlecchino leaned in to kiss your forehead, you were dangling on the edge of consciousness and it made her feel bad to leave you, but she had to- lest her wrath consume her whole and that would not be good for all of you. "beloved, the children will take care of you while we wait for a doctor. i'll be back soon, i promise." she whispered, before joining with lyney. "lyney, is the man tied?" she asked, and lyney nodded. "yes father, shall we turn him in to the-"

"no, never mind that. i will take care of him on my own."

she dismissed lyney with her hand, making the boy silently nod at her father's command to not hand the criminal over to the authorities. however, he couldn't shrug off the creepy feeling coming from his father. arlecchino had a blank expression on her face, he couldn't decipher her feelings at all. he paid no mind to this, not wanting to be the outlet of whatever his father was feeling.

as soon as they walked into the room where the culprit was held captive, the room was filled with a chilling atmosphere. all of the kids within the room could feel it. the perpetrator however, his face was full with fear as he looked at the harbinger. he started talking, but his words were muffled as his mouth was tied and covered.

"children, i am proud of you all for catching this man. we've given your mother justice, but for now. you are all dismissed. tell lynette to come over."

at your words, the children silently obey and leave the room. now it was just the man and arlecchino. for the whole time, arlecchino had held herself back from showing any kind of murderous intent, as she knew you wouldn't appreciate having it shown to the kids.

but now? the look on her face was indescribable, her hand was trembling in pure wrath. she leaned down, grabbing the man by his collar and throwing him against the wall. "i will ask you questions, and for every wrong answer, i will cut off one finger. think wisely." she threatened the man, grabbing a chair and pulling it in front of him. "however, seeing as you've decided to hurt my wife in the first place, i can see that you lack a brain."

the man was silenced, and she carefully studied his features. he was a fatui, much to her annoyance. "a traitor, i see. now tell me, who was it that ordered you to do this?" he asked, tugging on the cloth on his mouth.

"p-please, my lord- it wasn't my intention to-"

the man was cut off by his own agonizing scream of pain, with arlecchino stepping on his leg, piercing his flesh with the tip of his heels. "let this serve as a warning, you buffoon. if you do not give me an answer, i will cut your finger off next."

"i-it was one of the rich men you offended last time, my lord! s-sir van duyn!"

arlecchino clicked her tongue, tsk, it was one of those greedy capitalists again. how childish they are, just because of a few true but harsh words, and they act pathetically like this? sending in someone to hurt the knave's wife as they spend a fun day for the children?

arlecchino walked out the door and lynette was already there. "clean up the mess, do not let anyone else know of this." she ordered and lynette silently nodded.

oh, now they've done it. with a snap of arlecchino's fingers, the man's curdling screams had echoed within the room, his flesh slowly being consumed with her flames and soon, the one behind all this would suffer a much more painful death.

it was already nightfall when you had woken with you in full grasp of your senses. you looked around you, the children sleeping, and you immediately felt bad. they must've been so tired to fall asleep this early.

"beloved, are you awake?"

you were startled, but you looked towards the door. your wife, she was there. there was blood on her. you immediately sat up, but she immediately brought a finger to her lips, a silent cue to be careful not to wake the kids up. she walked towards you and sat by your side.

"oh celestia, my beloved.."

you gasped, hand touching her cheek. blood was splattered against her pale skin, but you were able to deduce that it wasn't hers, seeing as there were no visible wounds on her body. arlecchino however, had leaned into your palm, her hand on top of yours as she closed her eyes. "careful, my love. i do not wish to dirty your hands.." she reminded you, but the blood was dry. your chest was spilling with worry and fear. "what happened, arlecchino? are you okay? are the kids okay? i-" she took your hand off her cheek, kissing your knuckle.

"i'm glad that you are back to your senses, beloved, but yes i am fine. the kids on the other hand, i told you to have faith in them remember? they are fine and unharmed." she assures you as she crawls into bed with you, gently pushing you down and collapsing onto your chest as she wraps her arms around you. "now please, i wish to hold what i've almost lost in my arms." she wishes with a pleading tone, so you decided not to press on further. knowing that it's been hard for arlecchino to see you like this, you sigh, moving your hand to run through her hair again. she closes her eyes, now was she only truly able to calm down, feeling your warmth invading her senses. "if it means being able to keep holding you like this.. i'll do anything- anything, my love, just to protect the warmth that you give.."

a little bonus hihi ;

you sighed, deciding to let this go for now. however, at bedtime, you refused to let arlecchino sleep next to you (for awhile) as you were upset that she had made the kids do something as dangerous as running after the culprit.. but the next morning, arlecchino smiled, seeing as you were sleeping soundly on her chest.

currently, you were having morning coffee with arlecchino while the kids were still asleep. you were skimming through the newspaper, and you couldn't help but gasp in shocking as you read a certain news. "oh, darling? do you remember sir cecil van duyn?" you asked. arlecchino hummed, placing her cup down. "yes, one of our investors? what is it, dear?" she asked, looking at you curiously. "he was found dead! i may have not seen him often, but what a shame.." you sighed, oblivious to the fact that it was your wife's doing. arlecchino looked away, bringing the cup to her lips again. "yes, indeed darling, what a shame.."

she would not tell you this but for you, if it meant keeping you well and alive-- yes, she'd kill for you any day. she could paint her whole arm with the blood of those that dare to even lay a finger on you and she'd wear it proudly, to instill the image of it in their minds, so that her enemies know that it could be their blood next splattering on her if they decide to do the same dumb mistake the others already have.

[sealestialangel]

  

　     𓏲　twilight sparkle nptgs　｡　　🌠 　　₊ ˚⊹

　　　　　     req｡ by anon + fem╱neu╱masc ᵔᵔ　₊

  

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twi，twily，twilight，twyla，twinkle，sparkle，spark，bright，lumi，lumine，luminous，star，starrie╱starry，starlight，starshine，nova，supernova，or╱orr，ori，orion，aura，aurora，con╱cons，connie╱conny，constance，constellation，stella，estelle，estrella，magi╱mage，magia，magic，magico╱magica，wiwi，witch，wizard，book，bookworm，quill，feather，prin，prinnie╱prinny，princey，prince╱princess，royal，monarchy，purpur，purpureus，purple，vi，violet，ame，thys╱ethys，amethyst，iris，lila，lilac，orchid，mauve，plum，indie╱indy，indigo╱indago，kess，kessie╱kessy，kessem，anwa，ansi，anwansi，gald，galdur，sahar，jadis，sehrli，phil，phillip，feli，felipe，wendy，koda，dakota，winnie，ealdwine，alden ｡

⠀⠀❛ ���｡ ⠀pronouns

mlp╱mlps，fim╱fims，little╱littles，little╱pony，pony╱ponys，uni╱unicorn，unicorn╱unicorns，ali╱alicorn，alicorn╱alicorns，fri╱friend，friend╱friends，friend╱ship，friend╱friendship，friendship╱friendships，best╱friend，bud╱buddy，buddy╱buddys，pal╱pals，magi╱magic，magic╱magics，magic╱magical，magical╱magicals，myst╱mystical，mystical╱mysticals，academ╱academy，academy╱academys，academy╱academia，academy╱academic，academia╱academias，academic╱academics，stude╱student，student╱students，study╱studys，book╱books，book╱worm，bookworm╱bookworms，read╱reads，wri╱write，write╱writes，qui╱quill，quill╱quills，fea╱feather，feather╱feathers，sma╱smart，smart╱smarts，gen╱genius，intel╱intelligent，intelligent╱intelligents，brillo╱brillos，brill╱brilliant，brilliant╱brilliants，shi╱shine，shine╱shines，spark╱sparks，spark╱sparkle，sparkle╱sparkles，twi╱twinkle，twinkle╱twinkles，glow╱glows，bri╱bright，bright╱brights，star╱stars，cos╱cosmo，cos╱cosmic，cosmo╱cosmos，cosmic╱cosmics，moon╱moons，ni╱night，night╱nights，nyc╱nycto，nycto╱nyctos，twi╱twis，twi╱twilight，twilight╱twilights，twilight╱sparkle，prin╱princess，prin╱prince，prince╱princes，royal╱royals，royal╱royalty⦂ 🐴╱🐴s，🐎╱🐎s，🦄╱🦄s，🎠╱🎠s，✨╱✨s，⭐╱⭐s，🌟╱🌟s，💫╱💫s，🌠╱🌠s，🌌╱🌌s，🌃╱🌃s，🪄╱🪄s，🔮╱🔮s，📚╱📚s，📖╱📖s，📔╱📔s，📓╱📓s，📒╱📒s，🖊️╱🖊️s，🖋️╱🖋️s，✒️╱✒️s，🪶╱🪶s，🔎╱🔎s，🔍╱🔍s，🌳╱🌳s，🌲╱🌲s，👑╱👑s，🌈╱🌈s，🫂╱🫂s，👥╱👥s，💜╱💜s ｡

⠀⠀❛ 🔮｡ ⠀titles

the equestrian，(prn) who resides in the land of equestria，the ponyville resident，(prn) who resides in ponyville，(prn) who lives in a treehouse，the unicorn，the unicorn turned alicorn，the alicorn，(prn) who became an alicorn，princess celestia❜s（ best╱smartest ）student，(prn) who is╱was taught by princess celestia，(prn) who exchanged letters with princess celestia every day，the book worm，(prn) who is book smart，the smartest pony╱princess╱element，the princess of friendship，the future ruler of equestria，the element of magic，(prn) who embodies the element of magic，one of the main six，the smartest of the main six，(prn) who is part of the main six ｡

⠀⠀❛ ✨｡ ⠀genders

mlpgender，mlpluver，mlpsongsic，ponygender，unicorngender，alicorngender，twigender，twigender²，twisparkleponyic，twilightpalettic，emotwilightgender，twilightplushic，twiglixgender，twilibeaniegender，twigalic，twiclassicademic，twilynebusparkic，pleionix，starcomfic，crepusic，endlesstarsgalaxypalettic，luminaryess，princesscoric，princessgender，princessgender²，pringender，princegender，royalpresentic，purplegender，purplegender²，purpleluvr，invipurpleglitter，bookgender，storybookian，quillgender ｡

[potatoplace]

Mutual Cycles

Feyre x Rhys

Written for ACOTAR Omegaverse Week: Day 7

Summary: Rhys has been irritated all day, but when he comes home he finds just the thing to fix that problem.

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: somnophilia, A/B/O dynamics, knotting, smut, Rhys being a simp for Feyre, not proofread lol

Author's Note: I wanted to get something out for the last day of omegaverse week, and I want to say thank you so much for the moderators of @acotar-omegaverse-week for hosting it! It's been so much fun to get back into writing and read all of the amazing fics coming out of it. I hope we have one again next year :)

18+ only

🩵💜🩵

Rhysand was seated at his desk, Keir standing in front of him, Cassian and Azriel flanking his chair. Keir was prattling on about some reason why the Darkbringer’s forces were not ready to be rallied. Rhys entertained two minutes of his excuses before cutting him off.

“I do not care what your reason is, Keir, you have already had three months to rally the Darkbringers. If you do not confirm for me that they are ready to fight within the week, I will gladly drag you down into the dungeons myself and let Mor have her way with you,” he growled, thoroughly incensed with his uncle, who looked surprised and afraid. Perfect.

This pathetic excuse for a male had annoyed him far too many times, perhaps he should just end his life now and save himself the headache of coming back down to this cursed court so soon.

One of Azriel’s shadows opened the door behind Keir, who gladly took the cue and scurried away. Cassian shut the door behind him, then turned to look at Rhys, a questioning look on his face.

Rhys let out an angry sigh, looking to his right at the Shadowsinger. “I wasn’t done with him yet, brother.”

Azriel quirked a brow at him. “Unless you decided that a week’s time is already up, yes, you were.” Rhys scowled at him.

“What’s wrong with you, brother?” Cassian asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Normally you let him go on for five minutes at the least.”

“Nothing,” Rhys sighed. “He just annoyed me faster than usual is all.”

“Maybe a training session would do you some good,” Cassian suggested. Rhys considered it for a moment, then inclined his head in agreement. “Az, will you be joining us as well?”

“No, I’m suspicious of Keir’s motives. I’ll stick around here for a bit longer.”

Rhys stood and walked around his desk, clapping his hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Just us then, brother. Let’s go,” he said, winnowing the two of them to above the House of Wind.

🩵💜🩵

An hour later, Cassian had banned Rhys from the training ring for the day, saying that he was only getting more temperamental with each round they fought.

Rhys had glared at him and flown away, heading for the town house. The chill winter wind did nothing to cool the pool of rage within in him, though.

The moment he hit the pavement outside the house, he could smell her. His mate, his sweet, delicious smelling omega.

He swung the door open and entered the house, looking around for her. This time of day, she was normally taking lunch in the garden or working on paperwork in as she ate. He glanced out of one of the window facing the garden, no Feyre.

He made quick work of checking the first floor, his mate nowhere to be found.

He took the stairs two at a time, needing to see her now. Her scent was stronger on this floor, and he took deep lungfuls of her intoxicating scent, lilacs and pears, so perfect and just for him.

He looked in his office, but his omega was not there. Rhys opened every door along the hallway leading to their bedroom, with no luck.

The last door he opened, he struck gold. His omega’s sweet scent was overwhelming, and there she was, laying on the bed underneath the covers. His little omega was sleeping, taking a short nap most likely.

Lucky for him to find her, ready and waiting to be devoured, the perfect water to soothe his fiery temperament.

He slipped the blankets off of her, revealing her soft body clad in a black satin nightgown, so short it almost gave him a peek of the treasure between her thighs.

He sank down onto the bed, parting her legs and placing himself between them. He took a few greedy breaths in, instantly feeling his anger cool. This. This was what he needed.

His omega’s pretty pink little cunt.

He licked slowly up the length of her, gathering some of the slick leaking from her on his tongue. Yes, this is exactly what he needed, and used his fingers to gently part her lips, lapping at her center. Her taste was divine, perfect, all he ever wanted to have on his tongue again.

His cock was straining against his trousers now, the base of it swelling slightly already, just from a few heavenly tastes of his omega’s pussy.

Feyre was stirring slightly, a soft whine escaping her lips when Rhys brushed his tongue against her clit. He rubbed soothing circles on one of her thighs as he sucked gently on the little bud, entranced by the way her rib cage was moving faster now, and her eyes fluttered open just as he used his other hand to push a digit into her.

“Alpha,” she whined, a hand grabbing his hair and pulled his face further against her, the sight of her mate between her legs nearly enough to finish her then. He obliged her, moving his finger slowly in and out of her, making sure to curl against the spot that he knew made sparks fly through her body, lapping at her clit. Her thighs clamped down around him as she came, slick pouring out her and right onto Rhys’s tongue.

He licked her clean before he moved up her body, placing a kiss on his omega’s lips as he misted their clothing, leaving nothing between them but the delicious brush of skin.

“Omega,” he purred, nosing her neck to the side and sucking on her neck. Feyre sighed, a soft, contented sound, and pressed a kiss to his neck, nuzzling into it. He bit down, causing Feyre to gasp and stiffen slightly before he sucked and lapped at it again, and Feyre went limp beneath him again.

His cock was throbbing at this point, leaking at the tip and his knot half formed. It brushed against Feyre’s thigh and he groaned into her neck, even just the feeling of his omega’s skin was cauldron blessed. He lined himself up with her weeping cunt, and pushed in in one stroke. Their breath caught in their throats, Feyre was not quite prepared for the stretch of his length, or the immediate press of his knot against her, and Rhys was overwhelmed by the feeling her walls hugging him so tightly.

He gave a few powerful strokes, relaxing his omega’s cunt before he pushed the base in roughly, and he loved the way his omega’s breathing was coming in small gasps.

“Omega,” he muttered against her neck again, his world consumed by her in this moment. Her scent, her presence, her cunt were all that occupied his mind as he rocked back and forth gently, a hand coming down to rub at the apex of her thighs.

He bit down on her neck again where the mating mark was, leaving a fresh new set of bite marks over it, and Feyre came again with a strangled cry, Rhys following right behind her, his knot inflating fully and sealing them together.

Feyre wrapped her arms and legs around him, needing to be as close to him as physically possible, even if they were already locked together for a good while.

Rhys rolled them to their sides, and slid a hand through her tangled hair. He took in her flushed face and watchful eyes. “I missed you, omega.”

“I missed you too, alpha.” She paused for a moment. “Are you in rut?”

Rhys furrowed his brow at her, confused by the question. Until he thought a bit about it, that would explain…

“That would explain why I wanted to kill Keir more than usual, I suppose. And why the moment I saw my mate’s pretty little pussy my knot started growing.”

Feyre blushed, her cunt clenching around him at his words, and both of them groaned. “Mm, that would make sense love. It would also make the fresh mating bite you gave me more logical. Not that I don’t love to refresh it every now and then,” she smirked.

Rhys let out a low laugh, knowing his mate would be covered in bite marks by the time his rut was over. “Good thing I have such a sweet omega, hmm?” Feyre’s cute little smile was enough to draw him in for a kiss. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Rhysie,” she replied, and this time it was his turn to blush.

“You always save that for the sweetest moments, love.”

“That’s because every moment with you is the sweetest, Rhysie,” she said lovingly with a smile on her lips. He wrinkled his nose as he smiled, kissing her again and pulling her body further into his, her head against his chest.

Her body was flushed, growing warmer with each minute they spent pressed together.

“Darling?”

Feyre nuzzled into his chest, not bothering to look up at him, knowing what he was going to ask.

“Are you in heat?”

She looked up at him, her face more flushed than before. “Yes, but only because your rut set it off.”

He laughed lowly, taking another kiss from her. “At least this way we’ll be miserably hot and turned on together, darling.”

She pressed her lips to his again before threading a hand through his hair. Feyre rocked her hips gently, testing how much she could move. Her body needed more of him already, even with him sealed inside of her.

“A whole week of uninterrupted time with my alpha?” Feyre’s smile was dazzling, her happiness overwhelming down the bond. “Count me in.”

[mistress-of-vos]

If you want, I would LOVE Ra's/Tim "I don't want to scare you away with my... infatuation" bonus one or both of them is covered in blood. I hope you don't mind but anything you write is always so delicious. I live for your fics ngl ♡

Sorry you had an 🐜 problem- they're so annoying 🙄

~Lady Lilac (on anon because I don't need an ant infestation of my own rip) ♡♡♡

// Thanks for the prompt, Lilac! 💚💜 //

.

In retrospective, Tim should be grateful.

However, it was hard to put a smile on his lips and say 'Thank you' when everything around him was death and blood. And Tim wasn't sorry per se, yet he couldn't be glad either. All the violence and blood around him was his fault, in a way.

Ra's had come to save him, and during that, the demon's head had killed every single one of Tim's kidnappers.

They were a cult; a horrible group of people who had killed too many innocents. Tim wasn't sorry, but he wasn't happy with their death either. Not that it mattered too much, as Tim was still shaking and restraining his nausea as Ra's picked him up.

It was - it was a lot of blood. On Tim's white clothes (because his kidnappers were cliche, and they wanted a virgin sacrifice) and Ra's' silk cape. Over Ra's' left cheek, a particularly deep cut had found its way, leaking dark carmine all the way to his beard and chin.

"You.. You came," Tim whispered, holding himself on Ra's' shoulders and gasping at the view of the corpses behind them. Outside, below Gotham's cold night, loyal ninjas waited for them silently.

"Why did you rescue me?" Tim wondered, nervous at Ra's' silence as they got into a car, soon leaving the scene of the crime. Tim wasn't surprised when, through the dark window, he saw the building going in fire.

Ra's hummed, pushing Tim softly in the seat and taking out a handkerchief from God knew where to rub gently against Tim's pale face.

"Okay, if you don't say anything..."

"I came because I care, Timothy."

And thing was that Tim knew that. And Tim cared as well. But they never talk about such things, then again, Tim had been at the edge of dying and, moreover, dying at hands of someone who wasn't Ra's.

"If you care," Tim started, clinging to Ra's and pushing the handkerchief away, "then you show it in the strangest way I have seen."

Ra's looked away for a moment, yet showing more emotion than he had ever showed to most people in his life. It was a curious gesture, eyes hiding and mouth frowning, jaw clenched in what seemed to be an internal conflict.

"I don't want to scare you away with my... Infatuation" he said, looking back at Tim with that unreal pair of green eyes of his, "I do not love in traditional ways."

"That's why you do things like this but won't kiss me?" Tim asked, the words leaving his mouth before he could even consider the weight they possesed, "I'm not scared of you. I have never been."

Ra's blinked exactly two times, and then laughed.

A deep, amused laugh as his hands pulled Tim by the neck, the younger man now uncomfortably held in place by the immortal.

"You'd be scared, Timothy."

Tim knew that.

"Probably, but still..." and Tim raised his hand, caressing Ra's' face, "It's hard to be scared. No one has been as kind to me as you."

Ra's took Tim's hand, bringing it to his lips and brushing the hurt knuckles sweetly.

"You really are something else, Timothy."

(Tim didn't go back home that night. After all, Ra's was a villain, and villains didn't like to let go of pretty birds that were so rare and difficult to catch).

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XXII

Chapter 22

Wordcount 4,1k

Title Part XXII

Fandom Shummatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, undressing; non explicit sex

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi @telvess @alecfromsaturn (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I don't even know what to say after so long, except that I'm happy to finally come back and put this chapter out 😭🙏 I've been thinking of it for ages and questioning myself whether I'd be able to give these two a proper honeymoon or not, but this is an issue that haunts me every time I sit to write a honeymoon/intimate scene. The potion stuff was something I wanted to include back in the wedding chapter, but it's end up too long so I abandoned the idea. Now I had the chance to use it, and to try to bring some comedy vibes to soothe things a bit 😅

Anyways, hope you have fun! Missed you all 💜🥰

For you were too tired to stay awake after your brother-in-law left, you never saw the moment your husband came back to the private sections of your chambers, as much as when the rays of sunshine first entered the room. When you opened your eyes, the ceiling and the walls were already touched by the warm light, and the people in the tapestry over your head were as joyful as ever.

You tried to move the sheets from upon you and found out you could do it with no problems. You looked around and sensed the room was too quiet. You were also alone in the bed.

You frowned.

Where did he go?

You took a deep breath and, after some effort, you sat on the bed. You felt a strange, but complete relief with that gesture: your strength came back to you, there were no shivers spreading through your skin and no fear making your heart heavy. Was the transformation finished? You couldn’t believe it’d happen so fast, but maybe the hardest part of the process was over and you’d be able to carry on with your activities while it came to its end. Whatever the case, you were content to see you were yourself again.

You left the bed and headed to the bathroom. You closed the door, turned on the lights around the mirror to wash your face… and were static with what you saw there.

It was still you in the reflection, the same eyes, nose, lips and all, but at the same time it wasn’t. You saw a refreshed, cleaner version of you, with an inhuman glow in the lilac of your eyes and a flawless skin to cover each spot. Yes, you were sure it was still you, but more beautiful, more gracious, even without a layer of makeup and a disheveled hair to frame your expression.

So… this is how being a goddess feels like.

You smiled to yourself.

It’s not that bad.

You brushed your hair (which, understandably, took you more time than you were used) and finished your personal care session without taking your eyes off the mirror. You were a bit ashamed for being so vain, but after all the agonizing hours you had to endure to reach those looks, you couldn’t deny yourself such contentment.

You left the bathroom and searched for your robe. You found it on the same chair Hades left his own the night before. You dressed it and looked around, still finding his absence strange. It was when a soft, rhythmic sound reached your ears – his voice, brought by the breeze entering through the balcony, came to you in the form of a song, but you couldn’t recognize the words at first; you frowned and listened for a while, until you realized he was singing in Ancient Greek.

You smiled. You’ve already heard him sing before, but it was never that sweet. From what you’ve learned during his lessons, you were able to understand some verses, which, in the modern language, was something like this:

Under the red skies

Of the first day of Winter

I saw you

Your tiny feet running upon the ruins

Of the Temple of Love

Where after your touch

White flowers would grow

Would you mind

If I took you away with me?

Would you mind

If I hid you away?

As we built our secret place

Out of your flowers

And out of my song...

You followed his voice to the outside and found him sitting on the small table at the balcony, having a filled cup in front of him. He seemed relaxed, in peace with himself like you’ve never seen him before, especially when you remembered the events of the previous night, with his legs crossed and his eyes lost in the landscape.

You sighed at the scene.

Like a King who has his domains assured.

Change came when you took the first step toward him: the ecstatic glow in his eyes appeared and expanded as he turned to you, swallowing your whole form; he raised an unconscious hand and you accepted it, letting him take you to his lap.

You touched his cheek.

– Hi.

– Hi – Hades took your hand on his and led it to his lips – Young goddess.

A heat came up to your face when you heard that treatment. As much as it was flattering, you couldn’t shake the sensation that you were meeting him as if you were a different person now, and it still too soon to know if you enjoyed it. But you wouldn’t ruin the moment with sad deliberations, so you quickly redirected the conversation through sweeter paths.

– Were you singing about a young goddess as well?

– Yes – he curled a strand of your hair between his fingers – One that would touch the ruins of a dark world with her pretty feet, with the sweetness of a damsel and the courage of a warrior.

– And does she reach her fate with such sweetness and courage?

– Her fate, and much more – he approached and kissed your forehead.

You giggled and turned to the table, taking an empty cup and filling it with the same liquid as his cup, which consistence reminded you of milk, but with the color of caramel.

– What song was that? – you put the recipient of the caramel back on the table and grabbed your little cup – You never sang it before.

– It’s a love song in Ancient Greek. The author is unknown, but it was popular among travelers – Hades explained – It’s much longer than this, but this is my favorite part.

– We should learn the complete lyrics, then – you turned to him with tenderness – Then we will sing the whole song together.

– And we can do that during our travels.

– An excellent idea.

The rest of the breakfast went in silence, but after it you two went to the garden at the upper floor. You were were able to walk through it and that made you happy, still Hades didn’t let go of your arm until you decided to sit on a bench. There were some small trees around it, and you saw butterflies and birds sharing their branches peacefully; a couple of birds arrived, persecuting each other, then leaving as fast as they came, their wings making a rustling noise between the leaves, their little voices at their peak. You laughed at this, which reminded Hades of something.

– So how are your ears going? – he brushed your hair behind the left one – You’ve been complaining about the nature noises.

– They’re getting better. I mean, I don’t think I’d stand a lion’s roar right now, but the birds are completely bearable – you smiled.

– That’s good to hear.

You took some time to silently appreciate your surroundings as they displayed what would be a pleasing Spring morning in Midgard. You thought of this for a moment: the plants, the creatures and that whole environment were those of from Midgard, just everything you saw along your stay in the areas reserved to humans in those blessed lands – and all of them were designed by your husband. You felt your respect and admiration for him grow the same way it did when you took your first walk in the Gardens, when you ate pomegranates.

– You thought of all of this before we got married – you said suddenly; and, turning to him, – You thought of everything.

Hades replied with the same modest smile he gave you when you asked if he was there during the planting of the pomegranate tree.

– I wouldn’t say that. I’d say I’ve work with every necessary resource and with the best people I could find, so everything you’ve seen around would have the power of bringing smiles to the young humans’ faces – he raised his fingers to brush your hair – And, as a payment for all this work, yours will be forever on my sight.

Your smile widened at those words before you could notice. You were really content that, more than wishing to see your smile often, he was also creating reasons for you to show it: not so long after that conversation, he took you to take a walk through the depths of the garden, where exotic plants were hidden, and you spent the next hour talking about them and planning how to include your creations at the Greenhouse in the collection.

When you finally went back to the chambers’ interior, you decided you wanted to spend some time in bed, for your legs were a bit heavy. Meanwhile, Hades went to the kitchen to prepare tea. When he came back, you brought out a subject that has been on your mind for days: the travel to Hellheim.

– I’ve been worried about this for a while, but haven’t had the chance to speak until now – you said while accepting a cup of tea from his hands – Is it too long? Is it a difficult path, or an easy one? How does it look like?

He sat by your side with his own tea.

– It’s certainly a long way, especially for the ones who aren’t used to it – and, smiling at your widened eyes, – But I’m not saying this to discourage you, given that the travels between this realm and that one are far from tedious.

You turned on your side to hear more. Now you were completely interested.

– Really? And what kind of things we find through it?

Your husband started describing those strange lands as if narrating an epic story, going from dark skies, menacing rocks, abysses and terrifying natural phenomenons to powerful creatures, brave, minor deities occupied with their work and suspicious wanderers. You learned to love his ability of explaining concepts and depicting scenarios in a way that the images formed in your mind as vivid as if you were inside them; in that particular case, you also appreciated his power of calming your fears, assuring you that the travel was safe despite the things you were going to find.

After the tea, you told him you were sleepy, even though you’ve slept the entire night.

– I’m sorry for this, because I wanted to spend this day out with you – you told him, giving him back the cup – But I’m too tired, though I did nothing that justifies this tiredness.

– This isn’t but expected, little one – he replied before taking the cups to the kitchen – The transformation isn’t complete yet, and it takes an enormous amount of vital energy. You’ll still need some time to regain it, and an even longer period to manage it when your powers start manifesting.

– I see – you slowly laid down on your pillow, feeling both the sleep and the weight of your future responsibilities pulling you to it.

As if sensing your anxiety, Hades offered you some solace.

– But for now you don’t have to think too much about these things – he walked to the kitchen’s door – Th time to take care of them is yet to come.

You accepted those words and closed your eyes, letting the sleep take over your body, which didn’t take long that time.

***

You thought you were going to feel better the next day, and you weren’t entirely wrong in your expectations, but you in fact needed at least three or four days to feel able to walk, stand and do any other activity without a subsequent fatigue, neither the need of sleeping in the middle of the day. During that period, you were visited by Aesclepius twice, and he was content with your progress, something that made both you and Hades relieved: now, as he explained, your body’s tendency would be gathering energy instead of spending it, so that soon you would be as physically and mentally capable as any other god, and the travel to Hellheim wouldn’t be a problem.

On the other hand, Hades, having diligence as his second name, didn’t stay idle: while you recovered, he divided his time in taking care of you, solving small matters with his brother Zeus, checking on your family through Hermes, talking to Aesclepius about your condition and organizing your travel to the Underworld; he exchanged messages with Adamas at least once in a day, to make sure everything was alright in his domains. You, on your part, spent your time alternating between resting and being worried, despite his advice: at the same time you wanted to tell him to take some rest – after all, it was his honeymoon – you couldn’t do much to help him in this sense, neither in any other.

I’ve been increasing his burden since the beginning. He will deny it if I speak to him about it, but I know I’m not helping in anything; even my preoccupation might become an issue. I can’t wait for this to end.

That was why you received the first sign of a complete recovery with great contentment. You noticed it right after you left the bed that day and, taking a chance when your husband wasn’t in the chambers, you went to the arc where you kept your gifts from the ceremony. You’ve searched inside it with nervous hands and took a small bottle from it.

Your cheeks heated up at the sight of the object, its delicate shape involving a rosy potion which perfume was described as having “its own soul, so once it is used, it will always be recognizable by the ones who first sensed it”.

The gift of Aphrodite-sama. I’ve been so curious about its effects, but her explanations were so mysterious, and I was too ashamed to ask enough questions.

You still remembered how she took the chance to approach you while Hades wasn’t around. She passed by your side and stopped before you with such grace, yet so suddenly that you couldn’t help startling.

She giggled, enjoying your reaction.

– You were already a beauty, dear Y/n, but now – the goddess brushed your hair and cupped your face with tenderness – Now you’re the perfect being…

Aphrodite spent a moment in silence, just appreciating what she had in front of her. Then, as suddenly as her arrival, she moved her hands away and took a small object from inside her dress: a bottle that reminded you of the ones in which people sold expensive fragrances in Midgard, filled with some glistening fluid.

She put it in your hands and warned you to not let your husband see it before you had the opportunity to use it.

– Just one drop or two in the sheets, right before you lie down, must be enough – and, surrounding her mouth with her hands, as to whisper a secret – But it wouldn’t be bad if you used a few more.

You stared at the bottle, barely reaching the size of your palm, thinking of those words.

– Aphrodite-sama, I’m very thankful for your gift – you raised your eyes to her – But I’m a bit confused about it. Is it some sort of remedy, or blessing?

She observed you with a mixture of condescension and diversion.

– Most of the times, if used wisely, it will be a blessing, but in other times it will be a powerful remedy – she blinked her right eye.

It was when finally started to understand.

– Oh, this is a love potion, my Lady – you smiled, then frowned – But Hades and I… We’re already in love with each other…

The Goddess of Love laughed.

– I know, my dear. But the purpose of this potion is not making you fall in love… – and lowering her tone – But falling harder.

She approached you one last time and, with a kiss on your forehead, she left you with the potion and a lot of things to think about.

And now you were there, alone with her gift for the second time, and wondering if that was the moment to use it.

I’m torn between the fear of the effects and the curiosity about them.

After minutes of painful deliberation, you decided to open it and smell its perfume… which filled both your nostrils and your soul, drowning you in a wave of powerful sensations: your feelings, thoughts and memories about Hades were all stirred and turned into one, expanding until you had the urge to pour it out; your eyes were filled with tears, and your breath became difficult as your chest would go up and down in ache as you craved his presence. Even as a young goddess, you could tell that the substance held a terrific power.

Now I understand why she told me to use just a few drops.

You adjusted the sheets upon the bed and knelt over them, stretching for the potion to be poured in the center. You slowly turned the bottle to the side, in your best efforts to control your trembling hand, and observed as the first drop fell on the fabric, disappearing so fast that it was hard to tell it has ever been there. More drops followed it in other spots and over the pillows…

When the sudden crack of the room’s door opening made you scream and drop the bottle on the bed, turning the next drops into a whole puddle.

You sat on the sheets, hiding the bottle behind you as you had a confused Hades standing at the door, staring at you without understanding why his arrival got you so scared.

– Is there something wrong, little one? You look a bit nervous.

You were quick to deny it.

– No… No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine! – you shook your hands around yourself as to reaffirm what you were saying – It’s just the noise of these hinges! I can’t get used to it…

With your face on fire, you fell silent after that, praying that your husband would just accept the explanation and change the subject… but, unfortunately, your pairs weren’t willing to grant you this small wish: Hades closed the door behind him and approached the bed, suspicion filling each of his gestures. At the same time, the perfume made its presence stronger than never as the bottle’s whole content leaked to the sheets on your back, turning any attempt of keeping it a secret unnecessary.

– Y/n, what is it? – he looked around the bed – Are you spreading perfume on the sheets?

You shrugged.

– Ah… Sort of.

– What kind of perfume? – he raised an eyebrow – This one seems to possess some sort of spell. Is it one of your wedding gifts?

You shook your head in a positive gesture and slowly brought the bottle to your front, giving it to him with a shy hand.

Once his eyes laid on the object, Hades turned to you with a strange expression, one that you haven’t seen before, and about which you weren’t sure how to feel; your fingers gripped on the sheets: that was the first time you didn’t know what to expect from him.

But you didn’t need to wait too long to figure that out.

You observed as he held the bottle with an attentive gaze, a smile started forming on his lips: he already recognized the nature of the potion. However, it wasn’t shyness or shame that took over your feelings with the understanding: around him and around yourself, you sensed a quiet, yet steady change that grew as the smell spread through the room; you had the sensation that your sight turned a bit blurry, except for your husband’s figure, and that everything was somewhat covered with a rosy light that reminded you of the liquid’s shade. Maybe Hades was under the same impression, for he stood still, staring at you with a glimmer of hunger in his eyes that scared and interested you at the same time. The temperature seemed to elevate in the surroundings even though the balcony’s door was wide open, so you started taking off your robe and moving your hair away from you neck.

The first words said between you after this were his.

– So… Our friend Aphrodite has her own gift for us – he made this observation with a vague, low voice – So clever of her to handle it to you while I was away…

Without taking his eyes off you, he dropped the bottle on the carpet. You didn’t know if it was anger or diversion you sensed in his tone, so you rushed to justify yourself.

– I really wanted to tell you about it, but I couldn’t disobey her instructions – your voice sounded lower than you remembered it, but you kept going – It’s just that, now that I’m recovered… I wanted to do something special… – the air swirled and heated up around you; the left strap of your gown slipped to the side, but you didn’t mind adjusting it – I wanted to have a proper honeymoon…

And that was the instant that changed everything.

Once those words escaped your lips, the blurry wave of sensations poured out of you at last, reaching for your lover and tangling with his own feelings, pulling him ahead, straight to you: without wasting time, Hades got rid of his coat and shoes, throwing himself over the bed as if afraid that you would disappear if he lingered in his place. You were a bit scared by this new impulsivity, but you wouldn’t push him away: the heat that has been increasing since you first smelled the potion, pulsating all over your body, only calmed own when your husband wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his lap, your legs spreading and burying in the sheets on each side, his mouth reaching for yours as you helped him take off his blouse with your little hands.

You moved away for a moment to see the results of your work, and the vision left you marveled: yes, you’ve already seen him undressed once, when he stood with you during the worst point of your fever, but you barely gave his figure the attention it deserved; now, with your strength restored and your sight in perfect conditions, you wouldn’t make the same mistake: from his face, your hands slipped over his skin, across his neck and over his chest, your thumbs drawing circles around his nipples; you smiled when a sigh left his lips. You noticed the vine he had tattooed on his left arm, the same pattern of the one on his forehead.

He is perfect.

– You’re so beautiful… – you murmured to him, your fingers brushing over the tattoo – I’m so sorry for making you wait... I promise I’ll make up for it…

You felt his hands going to your hips and tightening around them, bringing you closer. Your gown slipped, exposing your thighs as your knees were buried on the soft mattress.

– I’ll make sure you will – his lips brushed and smiled over yours – But for you, the wait is always worthy…

You felt his hands caressing your thighs, slipping under your gown and pulling it up. Your heart skipped a bit: that was going to be the first time you’d expose yourself for your husband, so that everything had to be in place: you were now a goddess with a well-built, flawless body, but were you feeling that beautiful now? Were you good enough to appear before him with only your skin to cover you?

Heavens, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but who would say it’d be so scary?

Still, you didn’t stop him, and when the gown was finally taken off, every inch of yourself under his sight, you remembered the conversation you had weeks ago, in that balcony beside the room, and the confidence in it soothed your nervousness, as much as his hands exploring your figure: his right thumb caressed your lower lip, going down to your chin and your neck, where you noticed his hand was able to surround most of it; both his hands went through your shoulders, your collarbones and, finally, your breasts, where he his thumbs caressed you the same way you did to him. A loud moan escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you put your hand over it, your cheeks burning with shame: apparently, erasing one’s shyness wasn’t among the properties of Aphrodite’s potion; Hades laughed, enjoying your spontaneity, and moved your hand away from your lips, putting it around is neck.

– So shy, aren’t we? – and, letting it clear that he had the same conversation in mind as well, – Let’s take care of this together…

He then suffocated any word or moan that might’ve come out from your mouth with a deep kiss, pulling you tighter against himself as your hands tangled in his hair.

Outtake

Part XXIII

[page-murdock]

tag game 💜 get to know me!

tagged by @natalilac, thank you Nat! <3 I love the new url! :*

1 ) are you named after someone? no.

2 ) when is the last time you cried? it's embarrassing, but on a Disclosure (1994) online dissection (both the film and the book). I cry easily AND I'm a nerd. :)

3 ) do you like your handwriting? no, I have horrible handwriting.

4 ) what is your favorite lunch meat? Dry cured ham!

5 ) do you have kids? no, and I will never have them, not only because they would inherit my illnesses, but because I've run out of time too. I'm 42. not that it really matters. I'm also single.

6 ) if you were another person, would you be friends with you? maybe.

7 ) do you use sarcasm? sometimes.

8 ) do you still have your tonsils? yes.

9 ) would you bungee jump? no, never.

10 ) what is your favorite kind of cereal? Kellogg's Frosted Wheats

11 ) do you untie your shoes when you take them off? lol no

12 ) do you think you're a strong person? it depends, but in general: no, not at all

13 ) what is your favorite ice cream flavor? mint chocolate chip, or regular chocolate chip

14 ) what is the first thing you notice about people? their posture and their eyes

15 ) red or pink? pink

16 ) what do you least like about yourself physically? I don't like my whole body, my face is all right, but I don't like one thing about my body.

17 ) what color pants and shoes are you wearing now? I have a labeled black pyjama bottom on, and blue and grey slippers.

18 ) what was the last thing you ate? my mother's Korean chicken

19 ) what are you listening to right now? nothing atm.

20 ) if you were a crayon, what color would you be? black or purple.

21 ) favorite smell? lilacs

22 ) who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? my mother.

23 ) favorite sport to watch? ballet and ice skating. otherwise I'm not a big sports fan.

24 ) hair color? brown.

25 ) eye color? green.

26 ) do you wear contacts? no, I wear glasses. the idea that I put something in my eyes is icky. :|

27 ) favorite food to eat? pizza, salads and tiramisu.

28 ) scary movies or comedy? comedy. scary movies only if it's quality, has something special about it and not TOO scary.

29 ) last movie you watched? Thunderbolts*

30 ) what color shirt are you wearing? grey

31 ) summer or winter? I love spring and autumn, but if I have to choose, winter. I hate the heat.

32 ) hugs or kisses? hugs.

33 ) what book are you currently reading? I'm reading Sunrise on the Reaping, Blonde by J. C. Oates and I'm about to start Consumed by J. R. Ward.

34 ) who do you miss right now? nobody atm.

35 ) what is on your mouse pad? nothing, it's a simple black mouse pad.

36 ) what is the last tv program you watched? Andor S2 and TLOU S2, I'm stuck with both. I couldn't get into the first, and the second is simply not for me.

37 ) what is the best sound? the ocean waves! <- prev so true

38 ) rolling stones or the beatles? beatles!

39 ) what is the farthest you have ever traveled? Austria and Croatia from Hungary, they are both neighbor countries, so not far.

40 ) do you have a special talent? I can write pretty good novels and short stories.

41 ) where were you born? in Budapest, Hungary.

42 ) people you expect to participate in this? @carrionsflower @lavellun @euphcme @cavarage @bymine @aryasnow @beermanoftana @atlantidea @fenhaerel @lordlykisses @morimagdalene @myteavsricochet @bvck-barnes @sylvieons @henrywinteris @thehiddenbaroness @leilaorgana

[shellyswirlz-selfships]

A list of random shit that reminds me of Rhodonite:

__________________________________________________________

・Pink

・purple

・lavender (the color and the flower)

・Lilacs

・Lavender or pink colored roses

・pink butterflies (they're pretty like her)

・pearl & ruby jewelry

・the actual real Rhodonite gem

・the misfit toys from Rudolph

・The lavender and black combination because of her hair color (although her black hair looks more very dark blue)

・fairies

・the word "strategy"

・the little gifs that say "good morning" or "get well soon" with the sun and silly text

・any Disney princess movie (except for Mulan ngl)

・Alice In wonderland (THE CLASSIC MOVIE HAS A RHODONITE AESTHETIC TO ME)

・Paper fans because her Pearl held one in the eras rp

・cute straw/sun hats with a bow because I feel she'd look adorable in them

・black short dresses because they kinda remind me of her adorable outfit a little in a way

・the way of writing with hearts or stars somewhere in the text

・graduation hats

・the pink/purple galaxy aesthetic

・the cute pink or purple bakery/cafe aesthetic (IDFK WHY)

・a pink or purple cottagecore aesthetic

・Saw from bfdi

・Any pink and purple gradient aesthetic

・That one pink and purple ferris wheel picture that I found from online

・that one melting heart aesthetic picture

・pink or purple LED lights (or just LED lights in general for some reason)

・rock music

・the story of romeo and juliet

・Elemental

・Piglet from Winnie the pooh

・waltz music

・jpop music for whatever reason

・those Rubik's cubes

・any other strategic game

・the 🥰☺️😰🩷💜💝emojis

・any adorable or pretty animal

・any pink or purple dress because I feel she'd like them

・pink or purple old computers

the list goes on and on!!

[lilacprincess7]

Dear anon (s)

This is a post for the anon (s) that sent me reqs. I have every intention to write them but for the next two weeks I'm going to be taking exams so they might be a bit late

With love,

Lilac Princess 💜💜