#Blue Dragon Bouquet

[noi-exe]

"If in beginning the gang knew she is Zola"

Im so normal about them

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[blues824]

I Love You, Malleus... But You're Not Mine...

Word Count: 9862 Female Reader Genre: Angst

The dragon fae was torn.

He knew that he would have to be wed to someone soon in order to inherit the crown. 

Also… his grandmother was nagging him to marry someone because she was growing older and she wanted to see her only grandson be married.

The only issue was that no one in Briar Valley really managed to capture his eye nor his heart. They all wanted to be married to him either for his money or power, or to escape their families. 

Actually, some of them did not wish to be married to him and were in love with someone else entirely, and he granted them liberty to marry who they wished.

Malleus was torn. 

So, he went to do what he always did whenever he was torn.

He walked over the bridge and through the woods.

In the woods, he would talk to himself and to the trees and animals. The wintertime meant that there was also snow and ice upon the ground. When that happened, the moonlight would reflect off of the glittery surface of the snow. It offered peace to Malleus to see the view.

Well, now was a better time than any to practice his vows.

He took out the ring that he had in his coat pocket, turning it over and over with his fingers, contemplating.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.”

He lifted his hand, palm up, as though he were actually marrying someone beside him. He stepped forward three times as he said the line.

“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

There was no real cup, so he just summoned a chalice with his magic and a bottle of wine. He was above the age limit for consuming alcohol in public, so it was alright. He poured the aged liquid into the cup, and then took a sip from the cup. Of course, his bride would then also sip from the cup right after. However, there is no bride as of right then.

“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness”.

He took a twig from a nearby tree and acted as though it were a candle. In the specific spot he was in, there was a tree stump that acted as the podium at an altar. On it was a small piece of bark that he used as the ‘flame’ with which he was to light the candle. 

Then, he set the twig down.

“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

In retrospect, the prince was asking himself why he didn’t ponder the curiously skeletal shape of the branch he placed the ring upon. However, it didn't matter, as the wind started whirling around him. Leaves started making a small-scale tornado around the branch on which he placed the ring… until a woman stood in the center.

She was as radiant as she was dead.

Her skin, or rather, where it existed upon her body, was smooth. One of her hands had no skin on it at all and was all bone. In the bodice of her wedding dress, he could see her ribcage. She was wearing a veil over her head, attached to a crown of flowers arranged in a multitude of different shades of blue. Peaking out of the tulip-cut skirt of her wedding dress was her skeletal leg. She was wearing white heels. In her hands, she held a bouquet of blue flowers, similar to her crown.

Understandably, Malleus was entranced but kind of frightened by the corpse he was seeing before him. His flight or fight response had not kicked in yet, not until he heard her whisper two words:

“I do.”

She then reached out towards him and started walking to him. The dragon prince, who had gone even paler than he already was, stayed still.

As she got closer and closer, he saw how the moonlight enhanced your figures, and he felt his heart beating faster. The woman leaned in, to the point where her nose was grazing against his.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Then everything went black.

~~~~~~~~

It took him a while to wake back up, and when he did he was in for it.

“Oh, look! He must have fainted. Are you alright?,” he heard the woman ask as he started to open his eyes.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a breather!” A skeleton man said.

“He’s still soft!” A skeleton boy exclaimed while jabbing at the prince’s torso with a stick. Malleus backed up into the bar, unsettled by what was going on around him.

Two skeletons dressed as soldiers clinked their beer steins toasting to the “newlyweds”.

“Newlyweds?” Malleus was quite confused as to what they were talking about. He stood up, trying to take in his surroundings.

“In the woods, you said your vows so perfectly,” she had a dream-like tone in your voice as she showed him the ring he had placed on your bony hand.

“I did, didn’t I?” Further leaning against the bar, he rubs his temples as though he were trying to remember something. Then he heard little legs crawling on the bar itself. 

He turned to see a walking head along with a few cockroaches. His eyes widened in silence as he backed away from the bar.

“Hello, my name is Paul! I am the head waiter, hehehe,”... the head was speaking. “I will be creating your wedding feast!”

All of a sudden, Malleus felt something hit the shoulder she was standing next to. When he turned to see what it was, a maggot was peeking out of her eye…’s socket. Her eye was, in fact, now on the floor.

“Wedding feast?! I am salivating,” the maggot said.

She gasped as she covered your eye socket, clearly embarrassed that it happened. She tried laughing it off, but it was a bit too late.

Now, to be fair, he recognized that he must be in a land of the dead. After all, there were skeletons all around, and his supposed bride was a decaying corpse. However, that did not leave him at peace. He was actually more disturbed when he came to that realization.

He squeezed out from between her and another skeleton and started creeping back in the other direction. He eventually reached the soldier skeletons, and that’s when he saw that one of them was impaled with a sword. He unsheathed it and turned on everyone.

“I need some answers before we proceed with anything. What’s going on here? Where am I? Who are you?”

She stepped forward and started fidgeting with her hands before saying, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“What a story it is…” a voice from the shadows on the stage emerged. “A tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul.”

“This is gonna be good.” The skeleton who was formerly impaled by the sword Malleus was holding right now spoke, gently taking back the sword.

“Hit it, boys.”

~~~~~~~~

One catchy but macabre musical number later, Malleus understands where he is. A few of the people down here were people he recognized. Old fae folks and humans alike rejoiced with each other, and it was beautiful to see. There was no judgment between the two species, which means a lot of them died prior to the war.

Well, they were dead. There would be no point in harboring resentment towards each other if you’re stuck with each other forever anyway.

Anyways, her story made him angry. How dare that man turn her down?! She was beautiful and kind, and all she wished for was to be a bride. Even though it had only been a day, Malleus found himself drawn to her. In fact, right at this moment, they were walking arm-in-arm to the cliff to gaze over the town.

The sight was beautiful. The moonlight made its appearance again, and the dragon prince breathed in the night air.

“Isn’t it beautiful? It takes my breath away…” The woman let go of his arm and twirled, her veil trailing after her.

“...Well, it would if I had any,” She giggled before sitting down on a bench, patting the seat next to her. He, with gentle steps, made his way and sat down next to her. “Isn’t it romantic?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to have your name. After all, I do believe a groom should have the name of his bride,” Malleus stated after a moment of silence.

Well, that’s a great way to start a marriage.

“Shh… Shut up!” The woman hit her temples before smiling at him. “It’s Y/N.”

“My name is Malleus Draconia, prince and crowned heir of the Briar Valley.” Her eyes widened in shock at his response.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you!” She pulled out a box and placed it in his lap with care, taking the required measures so as to not startle him. Not to worry, as he was quite excited about receiving a gift from his… wife? She then whispered something, “It’s a wedding present”.

He lifted the neatly wrapped box up to his ear and shook it gently, seemingly trying to find out what could be inside. The corpse beside him let out a small gasp of shock before recovering with a smile.

Once he unwrapped the bow and opened the box, he saw a bunch of bones… including a skull. Malleus immediately recognized it to be a stray dog that he found in his youth. Growing up isolated meant that he hadn’t many friends, so when a dog made its way to him in the forest, who was he to turn it down?

The lid clasped itself back onto the box out of nowhere and started rumbling in the prince’s lap before falling to the ground. Then it went still before the lid burst open and out jumped a skeletal dog, barking and everything.

“Samson?” Malleus asked, wondering if the dog could hear him. The cadaverous canine jumped into his friend’s lap, excited to be reunited. “Samson! My dog, Samson!”

“I knew you’d be happy to see him.” The woman beside him exclaimed. The prince had nearly forgotten about her presence.

“Who’s my good boy? Sit. Sit, Samson, sit!” At his owner’s command, the dog sat down. 

“Good boy, Samson. Roll over. Roll over!!!” Now, the way that the dog did it was quite unusual. His head remained upright as the rest of the body rolled over.

“Play dead.” The dog let out a whine when Malleus realized his mistake. Both recovered, and Samson jumped into his wife’s lap instead.

“Awww, what a cutie!” She exclaimed.

After a few seconds of quiet between the newlyweds, save for Samson’s panting, Malleus spoke.

“My grandmother did not approve of me keeping a stray. Nor did Lilia,” Malleus trailed off, remembering from his childhood that he hadn’t any friends apart from the staff who were forced to play with him.

“Would she have approved of me?” His bride asked.

“I would very much like to think so, but I wouldn’t know… What if we were to go meet her?” He proposed.

“That sounds wonderful! Where is she buried?” She asked with enthusiasm and excitement in her tone. It pained him to be the bearer of bad news.

“I am afraid that they are still with life, my dearest,” He lowered his head, a bit embarrassed and thus focusing on Samson.

“Hmm… that is a problem…” The corpse bride brought her hand to her chin in thought, wondering how they could get to the Land of the Living.

Then, Samson started barking at you. 

“No, we couldn’t possibly,” Luckily, Malleus was well-versed when it came to speaking with animals, but he did not know who ‘Elder Gutknecht’ was.

“Well, if you put it like that…” She was responding to the dog, as though she was having a full conversation with him.

“Who is ‘Elder Gutknecht’?”

“He is the person everyone goes to when they have matters concerning the living realm. Now come, dear husband,” the woman held her hand out, and the prince took it, and the pair made their way to the Elder’s room.

~~~~~~~~

“Elder Gutknecht? Are you there?”

If I’m being honest, Malleus has no idea who you both are looking for. Samson is trailing behind the two of you, the three of you moving with grace up the stairs. One thing he noticed was that there were books and candles everywhere. He made sure that he didn’t trip over anything nor make anything fall.

“Is anyone home? Hello?”

Unfortunately, Samson did not take those same precautions and made a pile of books fall over, startling what seemed to be a full murder of crows. The lantern that lit up the place started swaying from the force of wind from the birds’ wings. Then, a hand reached up to steady the lantern.

An old skeleton, coughing, a whisper of a beard on his chin, and half of the top of his skull lifting, made his appearance.

“There you are!” Y/N exclaimed.

Placing his glasses on, the presumed Elder Gutknecht spoke, “Huh? Oh, my dear. There you are.”

“I’ve brought my husband, Prince Malleus Draconia.”

“What’s that? Husband?” The Elder scratched his skull, making the lifting plate lift even more.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Malleus called out, not sure if the skeleton could hear him.

“I believe the pleasure would be mine, Your Highness. After all, it’s not everyday that you find yourself in the presence of living royalty… especially if you’re dead.”

“Anyways,” Y/N butted in, “We need to go up. Upstairs? To visit the Land of the Living.”

“Land of the Living? Oh, my dear,” The skeleton had a disappointed tone in his voice as he started making his way down the stairs that led up to his podium.

“Please, Elder Gutknecht.” The woman clasped her decaying hands together in hope.

“Now, why go up there, when people are dying to get down here?” The elder responded.

“Sir, I beg you to help. It would mean so much to my wife and I.’ A small gasp of shock made its way out of Y/N’s mouth. For so long… she wanted to hear herself be called a wife.

“I don’t know… It’s just not natural.”

“Please, Elder Gutknecht. Surely there must be something you can do?” Y/N took the old man’s hand in hers and looked into his eyes, pleading.

“Hmm… Let me see what I can do.” Elder Gutknecht patted the back of her hand. “Now, where did I put that book?” He then started looking everywhere; in the cabinet, in the drawer, and he started going through his piles and piles of books. That was, until he checked the bookshelf and found the book he was looking for. “There it is.”

On the way back up to his podium, he grabbed three bottles of things akin to potions as well as a chalice, as per Malleus’s guess. A crow was perched up there already, waiting for his master’s commands.

Elder Gutknecht started flipping through the pages of the book, muttering to himself, before he stopped at a certain page.

“I have it.” Y/N let out a gasp of excitement. “A haunting spell of sorts. Just the thing for these quick trips…”

Leaning to the side closer to her husband, Y/N whispered, “So glad you thought of this.”

“Me too, darling.”

The old man took two of the bottles and poured some of the liquid contents into the chalice before taking some ashes out of what the newly married couple realized was an urn and adding them into the concoction. Then, a feather from the crow was added in, and it dissolved immediately. A little cloud of red smoke popped out of the cup, making the skeletal man cough. He took the chalice in his hand, and it looked like he was going to splash it on the two below before he drank all of it.

“Now, then…” He let out a belch. “Where were we?”

“The haunting spell?”

“Ahhh…” He grasped the crow on his podium by the neck and squeezed its stomach, making an egg pop out. Malleus and Samson flinched while Y/N didn’t seem phased.

“Ah, here we have it. Ready? Just remember: When you want to come back, say ‘hopscotch’.”

Y/N giggled at the childishness of the word, asking, “Hopscotch?” with an amused tone.

“That’s it.” He cracked the egg on the podium, and out of the egg came a gas of some sort.

All of a sudden, the married couple found themselves under the moonlight once again.

~~~~~~~~

Back at the palace, everyone was worried. Some of the servants have been fainting from panic…

The prince had vanished.

Queen Maleficia is very close to sending out the entire military that Briar Valley has to go looking for her grandson. General Lilia is separating the soldiers into groups, and assigning those groups to different parts of the Valley. Sir Sebek and Sir Silver are paired together as leaders of two of those groups, going to make their way into the forest section.

It was very unlike Malleus to just vanish without a trace, so everyone figured that he was taken. It also must be someone stronger than him, as you wouldn’t be able to capture the 5th most powerful mage if you didn’t have magic.

The villagers have also joined the search efforts, but there were folktales spreading about the danse macabre. It was All Hallow’s Eve, and a tale passed down for generations was that Death would come up with the dead and dance. Maybe their prince had joined them?

That was what caused the frenzy to begin with. Everyone knew about that tale, and if Malleus had joined the celebration of the dead, then he wouldn’t be seen until the following year.

Lilia gave the order, and Sebek’s squad and Silver’s squad made their way over the bridge and into the woods to go find the dragon prince.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N took in the glow of the moonlight, tears coming to her eyes as she stared at the moon itself for a few moments.

“I spent so long in the darkness, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”

At that moment, a butterfly flew past her face, causing her to giggle at its purity and innocence. Malleus also had a grin as he followed the butterfly with his eyes. However, that is when he realized that the butterfly was just as blue as the flowers upon her crown.

Y/N inhaled deeply, before stepping forward and twirling about in the snow. The trail of her mother’s wedding dress as well as her veil almost floated so delicately and gracefully behind her.

“My lady, might you give me this first dance as my wife?” She stopped when she heard Malleus ask, and a tear fell down her cheek as she nodded. He held out his hand to her and she accepted it, being pulled into his chest.

The two of them would have to thank their dance instructors, Y/N from when she was alive, and Malleus from when he was a boy. Sure, the steps they were doing were rehearsed, but the connection that the two felt was real.

Suddenly, Y/N’s skeletal leg snapped, making her fall. Luckily, the bones were only disconnected at the joint, so she easily snapped it back into place.

“Are you alright?” The dragon prince was understandably alarmed, as his magic could do no good upon a dead person. After all, magic is alive itself.

“I am quite so. It happens quite often,” she giggled, a bit embarrassed. Malleus smiled before they continued their waltz in the snow for a few more moments. Then, they walked hand-in-hand over to where Malleus knew would be the road back.

That is when Malleus had an idea.

“What if you were to stay here and I could bring my grandmother to you? I believe everyone would erupt in a ruckus if they saw me walking with a mystery human woman.”

“Ah, that’s right. I was here before the conflict. That should be fine. I will wait right here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And so, with that being said, he set off into the forest, alone, on the path he had traversed many times before, to go bring his grandmother to meet his new wife.

~~~~~~~~

About 20 minutes into the journey, Malleus heard something close by.

“THE PRINCE IS HERE! WE FOUND HIM!” 

The said prince’s neck snapped toward the direction he heard the voice come from. He recognizes the lady’s voice. She was one of the people that his grandmother had set him up with for marriage, and she was one of the ladies who wanted him for his status.

He heard marching, and he saw his former retainers: Silver and Sebek. In seconds, he was face-to-face with them, the lady mentioned before clinging to his arm.

“Your highness, we have been searching for you for hours! Where have you been?” Silver asked, making sure that the surrounding forest was clear and that the lady was in no danger.

Sebek didn’t say anything. He was moved to tears upon the recovery of the prince, his personal hero, who he revered and worshiped.

“I was strolling through the woods, and I got lost.”

“Sire, with all due respect, I didn’t think it was possible you could get lost,” Silver found the prince’s response to be a bit suspicious, but didn’t think to question him further. After all, he had orders from Queen Maleficia herself to bring her grandson back.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Prince Malleus, we must be taking our leave now,” Sebek bowed down as he stated. He then told Silver that he could take him back while he escorted the lady back to her own manor.

However, as Silver began to lead the way, he noticed that he was not being followed. He looked back and saw that Malleus was looking in the direction from where he came. 

Perhaps he did dance with the macabre.

“Your highness?”

Malleus snapped out of his trance before going to follow the knight. This might be an easier way to speak with his grandmother, so he followed Silver. 

~~~~~~~~

This is the voice of your conscience… Listen to what I say:

I have a bad feeling about him. You know he is no…

An all too familiar voice made itself known to you, and you rolled your eyes. You reached up to your ear and hit the side of your head, making Maggot shoot out into the cold snow.

“Go chew someone else’s ear for a while. Malleus has gone to get his grandmother, just like he said,'' To say that you were annoyed would be a tiny bit of an understatement. However, you couldn’t help the feeling of loneliness once again drape an arm about your shoulder. You missed your husband already.

“If I hadn’t just been sitting in it, I would say that you had lost your mind!” 

“I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason… for taking so long.” You crossed your arms in your lap, letting the doubt get into your decaying mind. Maybe Maggot was right.

“Oh, I am sure that he does. Why don’t you go ask him?”

“Alright, I will.” With that, you stood up, and began to follow your husband’s footsteps, picking Maggot up as you went.

~~~~~~~~

Malleus should have expected this. 

His grandmother, Queen Maleficia, had overreacted upon being reunited with her grandson, and locked him away in his room, placing a magical barrier to prevent him from leaving. Not only that, but he had learned that if someone were to find him first, more specifically, the women that the Queen had lined up as his suitresses, they would get his hand in marriage.

One small issue with that: he was a taken man now, and he had no plans in betraying his wife. She was beautiful, a free-spirited person to boot. She knew music and understood the beauty of both human and fae-kind. He was starting to miss her, and while he tried to tell his grandmother, she was not hearing it.

“Oh, Malleus, darling~”

And there was that insufferable voice.

Lady Aerwynn, the lady who had ‘found’ him in the forest originally, was the one set to marry him. She came from a long line of fae nobility, a green flag in his grandmother’s eyes.

To be quite frank, Malleus found her insufferable. She was only looking to gain power and influence, not his love. That’s where he loved his undead bride. She loved him before she even knew his name or title.

“Yes, Lady Aerwynn?”

“Well, soon I am going to be Princess Draconia. But anyways, I was wondering which shade of white would look best with your suit? After all, I need to make a good impression on the people at our wedding!”

“Lady Aerwynn, I need to inform you of something. I already have a bride. I am happily married to someone. Our wedding would be unlawful. If you could go get my grandmother, I can explain everything and you could be free to marry anyone else.”

This seemed to make her upset. Tears started welling up in her eyes as she heard what her ‘fiance’ was saying to her. 

“It’s not true! You just don’t want to marry me! Well, I don’t care! We’re getting married, whether you like it or not!”

All of a sudden, the window burst open. A large draft of wind swept through the room, putting out the candles and the fire within the fireplace. Malleus turned to see his wife, his true wife, on the balcony, fixing her veil out of her face. He had never been so relieved to see her.

~~~~~~~~

“My darling, I just wanted to meet-” Once your veil was out of your face, you were able to see your husband with another woman in his arms. However, you quickly brushed it off as the wrong place at the wrong time.

However, the woman let out a gasp of shock at your appearance.

You reached over and grabbed Malleus’s arm to pull him towards you. You wrapped your arm in his, making sure that the strange living woman knew that he was yours.

“Darling? Who is this?” You asked.

“Who is she?” 

“I’m his wife.” You extended your hand with the wedding ring on it towards her, letting the moonlight reflect off of the glistening golden band.

“Malleus? What is the meaning of this? You’re not going to marry me because you’re married to a corpse?!” Lady Aerwynn was only getting angrier, as were you.

You felt betrayed. You snatched your arm from Malleus and stared menacingly at the woman.

“Hopscotch.” You snatched your husband’s arm before sinking back outside, a murder of crows flying in a circle around you two until you were back in Elder Gutknecht’s room.

~~~~~~~~

“You lied to me! Just to get back to that other woman!” You shoved Malleus away from you, again feeling betrayed. Emotions came punching you in the face, and you were first experiencing anger.

“You don’t understand, my love. She means nothing to me-”

“Oh, really? Am I preventing your marriage to her? Would you rather be married to her?” Tears were threatening to spill as you interrupted Malleus. “You’re married to me! She’s only the other woman!”

You turned around, not wanting to let him see you cry. 

Elder Gutknecht let out a cough before saying, “She’s got a point.”

Through sobs, you were lamenting the early and untimely death of your marriage. “And-And I thought… This was all going so well.” More tears fell. Your eye actually popped out of your skull from the pressure, rolling its way to the dragon prince’s boot.

He bent down and picked it up, giving it a brush against the lapel of his suit so as to clean it up a bit.

“Y/N, darling, you misunderstood everything. I-” He reached out his arm to give you your eye back, and you snatched it quickly.

“It’s my eye, isn’t it?” You popped it back into place.

“No! Your eyes are the most beautiful things I’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince Malleus Draconia.” “Don’t you see? My grandmother is attempting to wed me with Lady Aerwynn!”

“You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you.”

“Can’t you see it was a mistake? You were never supp-”

You drowned out the last of the sentence. He thought your marriage to be a mistake. Maybe it was. Maybe Maggot was right, and you were in the wrong. All you wanted was to be a bride, as that dream had been stolen from you before.

Oh, yes. You were to be married to a wealthy fae that you loved so dearly about a century ago. You were one of the human nobility families, but the Wikora family was of lower standing at the time compared to yours. Your parents had forbidden the union for that very reason. Lord Piersym Wikora, to be precise, was the one you were to be married to. He was a mysterious stranger to you, having traveled about to many locations outside of the Briar Valley.

He stole your heartbeat, both literally and figuratively.

You walked off, the memories flooding back as well as the tears. It was time to give up on having a happy marriage, as you figured that matrimony between a dead human and an alive fae could never be compatible.

If only you had heard what he had said.

You were never supposed to see us like that. She wants to ruin my happiness for her own gain.

~~~~~~~~

In a desolate corner in the Land of the Dead, you could be seen sulking. Your veil was hanging upon a random stick of metal sticking out of the ground. You were sitting upon a broken coffin, a bench, if you will. 

“Roses for eternal love.”

You reached into your bouquet and snatched a rose head out, letting it drop to the ground in a messy fashion.

“Lilies for sweetness.”

As with the rose, you grabbed a lily and let it drop to the ground.

Upon seeing the third type of flower, you breathed in shakily before whispering the name.

“Baby’s breath.”

You tossed the bouquet away from you, feeling lost on what you were going to do now that your marriage was in shambles. Samson was with you, whining that his two owners were separated.

“Why so blue?” You looked over to see the Widow, someone who you looked up to as a motherly figure. Her six hind legs were lifted up in the air while her other two legs were acting as arms.

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it was a mistake.”

Maybe he should have his head examined.

You reached into your ear and pulled out Maggot, holding his tail between your pointer finger and thumb.

“I could do it!” Maggot exclaimed.

“Or maybe he does belong with her, Little Miss Living, with her rosy cheeks and beating heart. Plus, she’s a fae. I’m human.”

A heart can break once it’s done beating, you guess.

~~~~~~~~

“It’s true, Your Majesty! Malleus is married to a dead woman!” Lady Aerwynn looked the worse for wear. Her blonde hair was out of place as well as her dress. She looked a mess, and quite like a delusional patient. “I saw her. A corpse! Standing right here with Malleus.”

“I beg your pardon? My grandson… married to a corpse? Are you sure you don’t have a fever, dear?” Queen Maleficia lifted her hand to the girl’s forehead, checking for any unusual warmth.

Yes, she knew of the danse macabre story. However, she did not believe in it. And she refused to believe that her grandson indulged in frivolous tales and thus ran away… especially since he was an adult in fae terms.

“Come here and let me fetch you a blanket. You seem to be a bit feverish, dear.” Maleficia had a servant fetch a wool blanket as she assigned another servant to make sure that Lady Aerwynn didn’t go outside and worry the citizens even more.

Her Royal Majesty tried using her magic to see if she could locate Malleus through sensory magic, but she came up with nothing. He was not even in Briar Valley, but he couldn’t have made it to another land in that short amount of time, especially since she put that spell on his room. So, she started considering the possibility of the danse macabre.

~~~~~~~~

Malleus had been wandering about for a while in search of Y/N. He wished to hear her voice once again, as he felt his heart aching for her.

Sure, it was only during the night that he had gotten to know her, but his draconic instincts were telling him that she was his beloved, the person he was destined to be with for all of eternity, and not even death could part them.

He turned the corner to a street he had walked on before, following Samson who had your bouquet in his mouth. It was the bar where this entire journey started. Where he got to know what had happened to you.

Upon opening the door, he heard the piano playing. It was finely tuned despite being so old. You were sitting at the bench, both your decaying and skeletal hands dancing on the keys. Malleus walked up quietly, placing the bouquet that Samson had given him onto the top of the coffin-style piano.

“I’m sorry, my love. I just wanted you to know that I have no wish to be with her. I am happy with you, not with her. She wants to ruin our happiness to gain power for herself.”

You said nothing, and you continued playing. You were at the lower end of the piano, playing the deeper notes. Malleus joined you on the bench, turning his body towards the higher notes.

His years of learning the piano would come in handy.

To compliment the melody you were playing, he decided to add a more lighthearted spirit by playing a few notes.

That backfired, as you glanced at him with a look of disdain. You turned back to continue playing, but Malleus responded with the higher-pitched notes again.

You watched with an annoyed look on your face, before finishing off the melody.

However, Malleus started another one. He looked at you as he paused for a few seconds, inviting you to join him. And so you did.

Much like the dance you both shared in the moonlight, you were also in-sync with your piano playing. It turned into an expression of the both of you, lighter notes symbolizing life and deeper notes symbolizing death. The song was a motif for the joining of both life and death.

But, you got carried away, and your skeletal hand broke off and continued playing despite the rest of you as well as the entirety of Malleus stopping. You let out a gasp of shock as your hand started dancing about on the keys by itself, running up Malleus’s arm.

Giggles emitted from the both of you, much like children. The dragon fae took your detached hand in his before handing it over.

“Pardon my enthusiasm.”

“I like your enthusiasm.”

You both leaned in a bit as he reattached your hand to your arm. You looked up and into each other’s eyes before-

“NEW ARRIVAL” The bell started sounding, startling you both.

“Lights up!” 

Everyone started flooding into the bar. Paul and his cockroaches started pouring drinks.

“Hurry up, boys. Vite, Vite! Bonjour! Bienvenue! Drinks for everyone! Another pint, sir?”

“Oh no, just a half.” The man who ordered completely split in half.

Paul whistled at his roaches, having them bring the beer stein over, which ended up knocking him over.

“It is impossible to get good help anymore!”

Ms. Plum started making her way through the crowd of people.

“Welcoming committee, coming through! Coming through! My name’s Plum. Miss Plum.”

Malleus turned to see who had exactly died, and he recognized the man. He was one of the servants tasked with caring for him when he was a youngling. He had always been on the weaker side, having a horrible cough. He was one of the few human servants still remaining in the castle.

His name was Mr. Nimbus, or Nimbus Redrose. He just grew up calling him Mr. Nimbus because of the stories he would tell.

“Mr. Nimbus? Is that you? It’s wonderful to see you again!”

“Your Highness? Why, everyone’s been worried sick! Well, not me anymore!” The man let out a loud laugh before patting the prince on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry about me, though. It was about time I passed.”

“Hurry up, boys! Can you not see the gentleman is parched?!” Paul addressed his cockroaches, exasperated at the slow rate of his staff.

“How is Lady Aerwynn?”

“She was purely hysterical from what I could tell. Her Royal Majesty is concerned for her, but she’s more worried about you.”

“Yes, I do feel horrible that I had taken leave without informing anyone of my whereabouts, but my night has gone better than it ever could have. She was truly insufferable.”

A random drunkard of a skeleton threw his arm around Nimbus, stumbling and slurring about, and he said, “Women; you can’t live with them… You can’t live with-” Then he fell down.

“Well, I guess it’s time for you to pick up the pieces and help them to move on.”

“Speaking of picking up the pieces…” The skeleton from before was on the floor in just a heap of bones, making Malleus amused. He would use his magic, but it didn’t work on the dead. So the poor, drunk skeleton was just left there to sober up.

However, your husband had more concerning matters on his mind. He needed to somehow inform his grandmother that he wished to stay in the Land of the Dead with you. With that, he walked off to start contemplating methods.

“Malleus? Where are you going?”

~~~~~~~~

Queen Maleficia rested her forehead in her hand as she sat upon her throne. This whole day had not gone according to plan. 

She was feeling horrible for trying to force her grandson into a marriage that he did not want. However, she wanted to at least give him a push to marry his true love before Lady Aerwynn.

The Wikora family was indeed powerful, as their family came from sprites and faeries directly. Aerwynn Wikora, the daughter’s name, was a faerie herself. She had a way with music that Maleficia found light and airy… much different to the Draconias. However, despite that being her style, her entire family was corrupt. They wanted more power, and they were second only to the Draconia family.

It had frustrated the Wikoras that it had become a trend for the Draconias to pick up human lovers and marry them despite them being taken by death so early. However, as we all know, a dragon must be with their true love in order to truly be happy.

Every so often, a maid would come into the throneroom and update her on Lady Aerwynn’s state. She seemed to be getting a tad better, which was a relief. However, her ramblings set an ounce of doubt in Maleficia’s mind. What if the story of the danse macabre was real? It could be the only explanation.

However, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have turned up in the forest in the first place.

~~~~~~~~

Malleus was walking around once again, as he tended to do when he was in deep thought.

You see, he knew that there was no way he could go back to the living world or else he would be barred from his beloved. But, the Briar Valley would need a king once his grandmother passed the crown onto him. He doesn’t know how well his subjects would take it upon hearing that their Queen is technically dead.

Then, he came across a door that he knew led to the kitchen. He peaked in to see you talking to the head chef, Ms. Plum.

“Oh, Ms. Plum. What am I to do? He just walked off without saying a word. Are all men like this?” You lamented. 

“Well, I’m afraid none of them are very bright. They get something stuck in their heads…” Mrs. Plum began her response before pulling a knife out of the head of her colleague and wiping it clean. Then she continued, “...and you can’t do a thing with them.”

Elder Gutknecht burst into the kitchen with a rather heavy book. It actually seemed to be more than his skeletal weight, and it made Malleus briefly concerned. It was flipped to a certain page, and Maggot resided on top of the page.

“My dear, we have to talk.” The Elder seemed burdened by something, which made the dragon prince worried.

“Let me tell her, please. Let me tell her!” Maggot seemed quite the opposite. Whatever misfortune had happened, he seemed to be fairly excited about it.

“What?” You seemed to have the same fear that was now residing in your husband.

“There is a complication with your marriage.” A gasp made its way out of you, and Malleus was pretty close, but he knew that this was not his moment to pop in yet.

“I don’t understand.”

“The vows are binding only until death do you part”

“What are you saying?” “Death… has already parted you.” Another sound of surprise emitted from you, and your hand flew to your mouth. You started to bite your nails in quick contemplation.

“I don’t think he would leave, but is there something you could do to make the vows binding?”

“There is one thing…”

“Oh, please, please, let me tell her!” Maggot interrupted. The suspense was drawing you and Malleus (who was still outside) towards the elderly man.

“...It requires the greatest sacrifice…”

“Go on, get to the good part~”

“What is it?”

“We have to kill him!”

A moment of silence fell on everyone. It was overwhelming for even the dragon prince to comprehend. 

Is he really willing to give up his life?

“What?”

“Prince Malleus would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the Land of the Living…

…and drink from the Wine of Ages.”

Elder Gutknecht pointed at the page his book was opened to, and it pictured a vial or bottle of something. Your hands clasped themselves over your mouth as you turned away. Your face held a look of disbelief and remorse.

“Poison…”

“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”

Dropping to the floor, you bowed your head.

“I could never ask him…” A lone tear traveled down your decayed cheek.

“You don’t have to, dearest.” Malleus made his presence known, entering the kitchen finally. He extended his hands to you as he said, “I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant spending eternity with you, Y/N.”

You looked up in surprise, originally hinted with a bit of mortification. However, upon hearing what he said, the mortification wiped itself away.

“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?” Elder Gutknecht looked at the prince, waiting for his response.

Continuing to look into your eyes as he helped you up, he said, “I do.”

~~~~~~~~

“Gather round. Gather round, everybody! My soon-to-be-official bride and I have decided to wed each other properly, so grab what you can and follow us. We’re moving upstairs for a proper celebration.” Malleus shouted as he held your hand atop the foundation of a statue.

“Upstairs? I didn’t know we had an upstairs!” A lady in the audience exclaimed. Everyone was now buzzing with excitement for the wedding. They rushed off to prepare both the bride and groom.

“Ms. Widow? I was wondering if you could touch up my suit. I want to be looking the best I can for Y/N.” Malleus explained, also beaming with excitement.

“Why, of course!” She let out a loud whistle, and a few different spiders appeared. The feeling of them walking all over was a bit ticklish, but the dragon prince remained as still as he could.

Then, a hush fell over everyone.

The women started singing in a rather calming tone, announcing that the bride was there.

You walked down the stairs, bouquet in hand and your dress trailing behind you. Once again, Malleus had his breath taken away at your beauty. Some of the widows dropped down with your veil, placing it lightly upon your head.

The men joined in the singing as you twirled about.

Maggot was in tears, blowing his nose in a smaller-scale handkerchief. He just couldn’t believe that his dear friend was finally getting married. He was so proud.

Everyone made their way upstairs. There was a large cake following everyone as well that the chefs whipped up. It was extravagant to say the least, but so were the wedding festivities of Briar Valley.

~~~~~~~~

Queen Maleficia was torn.

She sat at the dinner table, accompanied by Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and the Wikora family. A simple soup was served for dinner, as no one could really stomach an extravagant meal. However, the Wikoras were not really appreciative of the dismal dinner.

Lady Aerwynn looked a tad better, some color having returned to her skin. She was not as feverish, but she was not touching her food. Her hair was brushed neatly, courtesy of the servants who were attending her.

That aside, the Queen was wondering how she was going to break the news to the Wikora family that Lady Aerwynn’s engagement to her grandson was invalid as per her orders. 

The entire room was silent, save for the flickering of the fire behind her in the fireplace and the scraping of spoons against the ceramic bowls. 

“Has there been any news about His Royal Highness?” Lord Piersym inquired. He was Lady Aerywynn’s older brother, and even more insufferable.

“I am afraid not. There are a few parties out in the woods searching for him.” Maleficia responded.

Then, the fire turned green. It cast an ominous emerald glow in the room, surprising everyone. They all stayed frozen still, only moving their eyes.

Creeping up behind the Wikoras were what Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Maleficia recognized as dead bodies and skeletons. The one behind Lord Piersym, their eye accidentally fell out of its socket and landed in his soup.

“There seems to be an eye in my soup,” he stated rather calmly.

That is when poor Lady Aerwynn ran to her wit’s end and started screaming. The knights were also considerably spooked at the happenings, but they came to the realization that their weapons were taken by the walking dead. They were left defenseless, basically.

Her Royal Majesty didn’t seem scared but rather on the defensive. This was living (?) proof that the danse macabre was real. That means her grandson would be back. All the living dead were headed a certain direction, she noticed, after spooking her guests and the knights. 

Lilia also seemed to notice that pattern and started leading her out of the castle and down the roads. A bunch of skeletons were climbing over the palace walls and into the village outside, so the two faes started making their way to a meadow, as that was where everyone was going.

All around them, couples who had lost each other because of death reunited, and it was beautiful. Typically, in Briar Valley, no one remarries once death has parted them from their first partner. Hence why Queen Maleficia has no king consort. So, to see that loved ones were able to see deceased loved ones again was truly magnificent.

After the reunions, they started heading towards the meadow where a wedding seemed to be set up. An altar of both dead and alive flowers (that symbolized death), as well as the typical wedding flowers (like roses, lilies, and baby’s breath, as mentioned before). The feeling of excitement was in the air, and Maleficia had never seen the village bustling with life like this before… pun intended.

Whispers made their way through the crowds of people, both dead and undead. From what Her Royal Majesty and Her Right-Hand Man gathered, His Royal Highness was repeating his wedding vows in the ‘Land of the Living’ to be with his true love.

…Lady Aerwynn was right. Malleus had, in fact, danced with the dead. Now he was going to join them alongside a dead woman he had only just met that night.

The severity of the situation was donning on both faes as they took their seats in front. More whispers of amazement at seeing the Queen as well as the (at their time of life) General as they sat down. 

The two let out a gasp as they saw Malleus teleport to the altar. His suit was a black coat with a green vest. A black button-up resided underneath along with a green tie about his neck. Black dress pants and shoes accompanied the rest of the outfit.

Gasps resounded from the rear of the venue and everyone turned to look. There you stood, your veil hiding your face. Because of its transparency, everyone could still see your face, albeit it was still slightly shrouded from view. You walked slowly down the aisle, as per tradition. There was no question about it: you were beautiful.

Maleficia could tell that you were once a gorgeous human woman. Actually, you seemed very familiar. That dress was one that she had seen before. 

You reached the altar and stood beside your about-to-be husband. At the podium stood a rather old skeleton with a rather large book and a bottle of what was presumed to be wine and an empty chalice. The officiant, the Queen guessed.

“Evening. Dearly beloved… and departed… we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage.”

Silence washed over the people attending the ceremony. It was like magic the way that everyone wanted to speak but no one dared utter a word. Malleus gently lifted your veil to reveal your face to everyone, and he swears that he is gazing into your eyes for the first time. The pure amount of love in his eyes could have made your heart begin to beat again.

“Living first.” The old skeleton pointed to Malleus, who turned towards you.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like he rehearsed, he raised his hand up and you accepted it, and he led you three steps forward. 

“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He took the empty chalice and lifted it up.

“Now you.” The officiant pointed at you. You realized that you would finally be able to say these vows in however many years since you were set to marry.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like you had rehearsed many times before, you took a step towards Malleus.

“Your cup will never empty, for I will be…” You opened the bottle and took it into your hand and started pouring the liquid into the chalice that Malleus was holding. But, you paused.

Malleus looked at you expectantly, wanting you to finish the vow so that he may drink the Wine of Ages, wanting to join you eternally in death.

“...I will be…” You came to the realization upon stealing a glance at the crowd. They needed a king once Queen Maleficia gave away the crown. Not just that, but Malleus still had his entire life ahead of him. He was signing it away just for a woman he had only met that night.

“Go on, my dear.” The elderly skeleton prompted. You focused your gaze back on Malleus, who had a hopeful but fearful look in his eyes. However, you did not have that hopeful look in your eyes to match. Malleus realized that.

You take a deep breath in as you go again, “Your cup… will never empty… for I will be…” It’s as though something is prohibiting you from saying the vows in their entirety.

“...I will be your wine.” Malleus finished, going to drink from the chalice. However, before it reached his lips, you put your skeletal hand over it and brought it back down. The dragon prince looked at you in shock, but you looked down to avert his gaze.

“I can’t,” You looked back up at him, tears in your eyes. You were whispering so that no one else could hear you.

“What’s wrong? Speak to me, my love,” He whispered back.

“This is wrong… I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. And now… I’m taking someone else’s life for my own selfish dreams.” Malleus was about to say something, but you stopped him.

“I love you, Malleus. But you’re not mine to have.”

You both were fragile in this moment as everyone was staring in suspense as to what would happen next. However, someone started clapping in a very slow manner.

“Oh, how touching. I always cry at weddings.” The two of you could recognize that voice from anywhere, and that man started walking down the aisle towards you both.

It was Lord Piersym.

“Our young lovers… together at last. Surely now they can live happily ever after?” The antagonizing tone in his voice did not go unnoticed, and your was-to-be husband put his hand on the other side of your waist and pulled you into him, so as to not leave you vulnerable.

“But you forget… HE IS STILL MY SISTER’S HUSBAND BY ORDER OF THE QUEEN!!! THE WIKORA FAMILY WILL NOT LEAVE EMPTY-HANDED!!!” He screamed. Malleus was about to put an end to this by using his magic, but you stepped out of his grasp.

“You?” You asked. The dragon fae as well as the crowd watched as you walked to the edge of the plateau upon which the altar stood.

“Y/N?” Looks of recognition flashed on both Lord Piersym’s and your faces. 

“You.” Your face turned into one of disgust and hatred.

“But… But I left you!” The man turned as white as a ghost.

“...For dead.” Gasps emitted from everyone in the meadow. It seemed that even the animals that were still active went absolutely silent.

“This woman is obviously delusional! It would do you good to hold your tongue, you filthy human!” He pointed a sword at you, and while you were aware that you could not die twice, Malleus seemed to have forgotten about it. All he processed in his mind was that his mate was in danger. 

“You were set to marry me. You have no right to call me that,” you stated, diction quite clear and distinct.

“Touche, my dear.”

“Now, go away.”

“Oh, I’m leaving. But first! A toast!” He grabbed the chalice out of Malleus’s hand, lifting it in the air and turning towards the audience, who all had either surprised or angry faces, depending on if they were alive or dead.

“To Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” 

Malleus was about to shout and lose his mind over what he had just said to you, but you took a step closer to him and kept a vigilant eye on Lord Piersym. 

“Tell me, my dear…

Can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?” Venom laced within his voice, he, too, kept a vigilant eye on his surroundings. His words were enough to bring you to the verge of tears.

“Let me at him! Let me at him!” Maggot was furious. He wanted the death of the puny lord to be by his own ‘hands’ with how angry he was at that moment. However, Elder Gutknecht held him back with his finger, along with the rest of the crowd with his other arm.

“Wait! We are amongst the living! We must abide by their rules!” The Elder warned.

“Well said,” Lord Piersym said in response. He then lifted the chalice to his lips, as though to ‘cheers’ what he said. Then, he proceeded to drink all of the wine that was in the cup. He gave it back to Malleus and started making his way to the side and out of the venue.

“...Not anymore~” Maggot said. Well, he wasn’t wrong, as all of a sudden, Piersym Wikora doubled over, gasping for air. He could feel his magic drain from his body and be replaced with something else.

As I have mentioned before, dear reader… magic is alive. At least, the kind of magic that faes, trolls, and others have in the Land of the Living. The kind of magic that was being replaced in Piersym’s body was something unexplainable. It was like a dead magic. No, not dormant, and certainly not like a volcano. But a dead magic.

The lord looked up, and his skin was pale with a blue undertone to match. His heart had stopped. He was now a walking corpse.

“Yep. You’re right. He’s all yours,” With those words, Elder Gutknecht put his arms down and the dead in the crowd started making their way to the, now dead, lord. They dragged him back through the village, back to the Land of the Dead via the fountain in the center.

That left the living as well as you at the altar. The Moon was close to giving way to the Sun. You turned back to Malleus.

“Y/N, I made a promise to you when I proposed to you. I intend to fulfill that promise if you will have me.”

“No, Malleus. You have kept your promise. I loved dancing with you under the moonlight. You’ve set me free. Now I can do the same.”

Right then and there, butterflies started cutting their way out of the bottom of your dress and legs. It was as though you yourself were an image. You began to disappear as the butterflies flew away. 

However, Malleus was not ready to let you go without giving you a farewell gift. He gently pulled your… upper body… closer to him and placed a kiss on your cold lips. A tear escaped from his right eye. Then, you were gone.

~~~~~~~~

Maleficia didn’t know how to feel. However, there was one prominent emotion that made its way to the front of the line, and it was sympathy for her grandson. She stood up from her seat and made her way to Malleus, going to wipe away a tear and say something in encouragement.

“Grandmother, why does it hurt so much?”

“I am afraid, Malleus, that it is the one thing no potion or spell will be able to fix. You will have to recover on your own.”

This took forever, and I was supposed to have it out on Halloween but that clearly did not happen lol.

Thank you for reading! Like, comment, reblog, share, whatever lol.

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve sets up a fantasy themed scavenger hunt around Hawkins (not super obvious tho, you know the type of people in bumfuck Indiana) that ends up at skull rock where Steve asks Eddie to be his boyfriend (: (they've gone on a few dates all ready, but this is him trying to make it official)

Right up until this moment, Eddie thought things were going well with Steve. They had gone out a few times (discretely, not even their friends knew) but behind closed doors the relationship had progressed quite well beyond chaste kisses.

So he was a little confused as to why Steve asked him out, only to not be at the video store, ready to be picked up after work.

"Where's Steve?", he asked Robin.

"He's already gone, but he left this note for you~", she sang.

"A note? Why didn't he call?"

"Because this is more romantic", she grinned.

"You know?"

"And the sky is blue."

Eddie read the note. All it said was 'Mind the dragon's breath'. Eddie looked to Robin, who was smiling like she already knew the answer. Well, he could solve a riddle or two.

"Looks like I'm on a quest."

Obviously there wasn't a dragon in Hawkins. But there was a burger place on main street that had a new menu item, fries topped with the spiciest chili sauce, even had jalapenos on top. Steve had ordered them and was sweating by the third bite, Eddie finished the rest with ease. And it just so happened that Will and Dustin worked there. He drummed the counter as he ordered the fries. They put it in a to go box, with another clue on top.

'Consult the Lady and her council'

The Lady must mean Erica. And Eddie knew that this Saturday, she was meeting her girl scout troop in the community center. He knew because Steve had to reluctantly fill in as den mother whenever all the other moms were busy.

Erica's clue led him to Mike and Lucas, which led him to Jonathan, which finally led him to Nancy. He was surprised that she was in on the game, but he supposed he did hear that she used to play D&D before.

The last clue brought him to Skull Rock, where at last, Steve was waiting. He had a bouquet of flowers.

"I can't believe you got everyone to play along."

Steve shrugged. "I told them I had someone special and I wanted to introduce them to everyone."

Eddie's eyes got wide. "You...you told them? About us?"

"Yeah. I hope that was okay. I think at least our friends should know who my boyfriend is."

"Your..."

Steve held out the flowers. "What do you say?"

Eddie grabbed him by the waist and kissed him, crushing the bouquet. "I say you've raised my expectations for your marriage proposal."

[dellalyra]

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝘕𝘦𝘶𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

pixie says: this is my first foray into writing for genshin but neuvilette is too pretty to ignore and if you notice i am writing for another tall man with white hair no you didn’t.

The Chief Justice of Fontaine was an elusive man. Aloof, serious, logical. The air of grace and elegance that flowed from his body and being put the most beautiful of swans to shame. The way he carried himself with such poise and dignity, made it clear why he was so very respected throughout Fontaine. His air of unattainability was echoed by the ever polite, kind-yet-distant way he interacted with others. That, and the obvious - that level of otherworldly beauty. It was what first struck the traveller upon meeting Neuvilette - such beautiful features, graceful and sharp like the man himself. Hair as white as freshly fallen snow with those odd blue horns (it became quite clear to the traveller that they were horns - since there was no way in Celestia that the Iudex was not the Hydro Dragon).

Yet - that day, at the grave of Navia’s father - it was clear as day that there was a deep, painful, lingering sadness in those beautiful eyes.

Lumine hoped he wasn’t alone.

The life of a dragon can be a lonely one.

An invite to dinner had arrived for Paimon and Lumine, from Navia - a thank you for their help during the trial. Following the etiquette she had been picking up on in each nation, it was customary to bring a gift to the host in Fontaine which lead her to wandering the streets in search of a florist. Lumine may have been very adept at gathering flowers and plants - however floristry arrangements were never a skill an intergalactic traveler and the sword of Teyvat had ever picked up on.

The pale blue front of the flower shop was immaculately painted and decorated with gilded lettering ‘la gueule de loup’ - which according to Paimon meant Snapdragon.

What an odd name, she hadn’t seen a single snapdragon in Fontaine.

“Bonsoir! If you need any assistance, please let me know!” A cheerful voice echoed from the door behind the cream counter.

“Hello! We would like to buy a bouquet please!” Paimon responded - ever the duo’s spokesperson.

At that, a woman in a pale pink apron came around the corner. Hair haphazardly pulled up atop her head secured with a pencil and a dark blue ribbon - a cream, soft blouse tucked into a dark blue layered skirt atop white stockings and navy and gold boots, a n embroidered blazer sat atop a chair which matched the woman’s skirt. She smiled brightly at the pair in front of her - and Lumine’s breath hitched when the shining tone of her eyes caught the evening sunlight, an otherworldly quality to her aura.

“A bouquet? Well, good thing you’re in a flower shop! I might have some flowers we could piece together!” She said, giggling as she gestured to the sea of flowers engulfing the store.

Paimon smiled and laughed and Lumine followed suit.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lumine and Paimon - I was hoping I would get to run into you soon.” She said as she collected a basket to gather her supplies.

“You know us?” Paimon asks.

“Sweetheart, I think everyone in Teyvat knows you. The brave and beautiful outlander and her clever guide. However, my husband was in attendance at the most recent magic show and trial - so I became privy to all of the inside scoop.” She smiled.

“You did not attend? I thought all of Fontaine was there.” Lumine spoke up.

“Ah, I tend to not get involved with the trials, I am delivered a rundown of the days events in the evenings. Yet I have been to several of the twins magic shows, such fantastic entertainment! I do love them so. Such gentle children, too, Lyney and Lynette.” The woman’s eyes lit up and an air of an excited child permeated her face. Lumine quirked a brow at the woman calling the twins ‘children’ for she looked no older than 25.

“Now! What’s the occasion?” Hands placed on her hips, the woman smiled at the travellers.

“Miss Navia asked us to dinner this evening, and we’ve been told a gift is a Fontainian custom.” Paimon speaks.

“Ah! Well, for Miss Navia you will need some clematis - her favourites. Edelweiss for courage, which you have both shown in the past few weeks. Hydrangeas for understanding - blue, I think. Iris for trust. Nasturtiums for victory. Rosemary for scent and also for remembrance of her dearest father, with some added sweet pea as a thank for you a lovely time.” The woman says, mostly to herself as she wanders the store - quickly picking up bunches of flowers from the jars in which they lay. Paimon and Lumine’s eyes were wide as if the woman spoke in tongues.

“Wow! I didn’t even know flowers could mean all that! Lyney only told us a few! You sure know your stuff, Mrs. Florist!” Paimon squealed, amazed.

The woman threw her head back in laughter.

“Y/N is fine, sweethearts. A book could be told in flowers alone. Flowers are nothing but truth, they exist for beauty and healing - and I admire them greatly.”

“You knew Miss Navia’s father?” Lumine asks, gentle voice contrasting Paimon’s outburst.

“I knew him well. A very good man, loyal endlessly and thought of Navia as his entire world. A life taken too soon in protection of his child - I lay flowers on his grave every month, mortal lives are so fragile - they must be treated with respect, no matter the circumstances.” She says, hands deftly manoeuvring the flowers into a piece of sponge.

Lumine quirked a brow.

“Mortal?”

“A state in which neither of us reside, Miss Lumine.” The woman responds with a wink and a smile.

It was logical that Lumine was not mortal, yet the explanation of this woman before her also not being so seemed to make many things far more understandable.

Just then, a patter of footsteps outside the store came trotting in through the front door.

“Mama!” A small voice called.

“Liath! Hello, sweetling!” The woman pauses her arranging and comes around the counter and leans down. Lumine spins and expects to see a child - perhaps with the florists hair.

What she didn’t expect was a Melusine.

“Papa wishes to know if you’d like to have a picnic together this evening, when he is finished at the Palais.” She asks, picking a small rose and placing it in her mother’s hair.

“Tell him that sounds wonderful, I am closing the shop soon and I meet him at the office. Thank you, Liath. Come here, let me fix your ribbon.” Y/N smiles and adjust the ribbon on the lapel of the melusine’s lapel.

“Thank you, mama. Bye bye!” She says, kissing her on the cheek and skipping out the door.

“Mama?” Lumine asks.

“Ah - not biologically. Yet, my and my husband’s nature has led us to a parental standing with the melusine’s. They are all our children, regardless of what soil they grew from.” She says, wrapping up the bouquet in a swathe of blue ribbons. Lumine wonders if by nature, did she mean they were both parental figures by nature or something to do with her not-mortal being. Perhaps her husband also was not human.

Lumine decided to press on the matter no more. Everyone deserved their privacy, after all.

“Et, voila! One bouquet for Miss Navia.” Y/N says, handing the bouquet to the traveler.

“How much do we owe you?” Lumine smiles, the bouquet truly was something exquisite, a talented woman indeed.

“Nonsense, lovely. You have done Fontaine a great service, consider this a small thank you. Miss Lumine, please take these peony roses also - they are a symbol of happiness, which you make me as I have heard you show great kindness to all of my children, for which I am so very grateful. For you, Madame Paimon, some purple Iris - meaning respect and intelligence for the Outlander’s clever guide.” She hands them all of the flowers, and winks at Lumine when she addresses Paimon, knowing that such words would fill the floating pixie with glee. True enough, Paimon squeals and dives to hug the woman who chuckles and kisses her cheek.

“Thank you so so much, Miss Y/N! We love them so much - Lumine, you could put it in your hair with your Inteyvat! I’ll put mine under my tiara, then we can match!” Lumine smiles and does as suggested.

“May I ask where you are meeting Miss Navia?” Y/N asks.

“Café Lucerne, however I’m not quite sure where that is.” Lumine responds.

“Ah! Well then I can walk you, if you wish?”

Just as she speaks, the door opens with a jungle of the bell as Lumine secured the flower in her hair she sees Y/N smile and walk around the counter.

“Hello, mon ange. I thought I was meeting you at the Palais.” Ah, must be her husband, Lumine thinks and she sees Paimon turn and freeze.

“Mon trésor, I am taking you on a picnic so it is only right that I collect you myself.” The deep rumble of a voice makes Lumine freeze too.

“YOUR HUSBAND IS MONSIEUR NEUVILETTE?!” Comes a squeal from Paimon.

Lumine spins on her heel and sees the owner of the familiar voice. Y/N’s hand is pressed to the far taller man’s cheek in a tender display of affection she would not have associated with the Chief Justice.

The gentle smile on the man’s face as he looks at his wife with such love is one she figures the melusine’s learned from him.

“Miss Lumine, Miss Paimon. A pleasure to see you. I see you have met the Madame Neuvilette.” He nods his head toward them.

“MADAME NEUVILETTE?!” Paimon seems on the verge of a meltdown at this information.

“Indeed. Apologies, I got so caught up in making such a wonderful bouquet I didn’t even introduce myself properly. Do forgive my lack of manners.” She says, turning and removing her apron as she begins to shut down the store for the evening.

Everything clicked into place just then.

The wife of the hydro dragon would hardly be a mortal woman. She mentioned the Palais, his attendance at both the magic show and the trial and of course the melusine’s would view the hydro dragon as their father.

The logical side of it all did little to curb the shock of seeing the intimidating Ludex and Hydro Dragon of Fontaine, the man who had taken out Childe with a simple slap being so gentle and enamoured in the face of his wife.

They way they looked at each other - that level of love had been a rare delight to find across her journey. Perhaps in how Zhongli spoke of Guizhong or Cyno and Tighnari - or how that certain someone looked at her and she at them…

“Neuv, we must show Lumine and Paimon to Café Lucerne on our way to our picnic.” Y/N says, ushering them all from the store before locking the door behind her.

The walk was short, as pleasantries were exchanged and Paimon and Y/N did most of the talking in the wake of the quiet counterparts.

“And here we are! I do hope you have a wonderful evening. My regards to Miss Navia. Do come and visit again soon, I would love to exchange tales of adventures!” Y/N smiles, before pressing a kiss to each cheek of the two outlanders.

“Indeed, the melusine’s speak very highly of you both - you must forgive the children if they become over zealous.” Neuvilette adds with a fond smile.

“Au revoir, enjoy your meal!” Y/N says, grasping her husbands arm and smiling at him. Lumine looks at them walk away toward the aquabus station entrance.

She could not quite believe her eyes when she sees the hydro dragon press a large pale hand to the smooth, undisturbed lower belly of his wife.

The sunset brightened ever so slightly.

Fontaine surely was full of surprises.

[fortheloveofallthings]

Steddie Florist AU - Part 2

Part 1

Steve watched in a haze as Eddie stepped out the front door with his new dahlia. Of course this mystery man gravitated towards them, he thought to himself. They stick out in a crowd, are revered for their beauty, often symbolizing kindness and everyone that loves dahlias is obsessed with their moody aesthetic. Perfect for Eddie. Thankfully Robin wasn’t here today to poke fun at his now blossoming crush. He continued his usual tasks, happily letting thoughts of the bartender fill his mind. 4 hours, he can stop by the bar in 4 hours.

Eddie practically skipped the remaining block from the Flower Shop to the bar. Chrissy was already pulling down chairs from the tops of tables as he entered. “I finally walked in!” He announced. Her blonde ponytail whipped around as she placed another chair down. “You walked in? Like actually step foot inside?” she questioned, excitement woven into her tone. Eddie nodded as a smile stretched across his face. He held out the dahlia with Shakespearean flare knowing it would be proof enough. “He gave it to me on the house, so I offered him a drink tonight,” he smiled walking past Chrissy towards the rows of liquor behind the bar hoping to find something empty enough to use as a vase. It didn’t take long skimming through the shelves before he landed on a Tanqueray bottle he could rinse out. Chrissy made her way towards him to start prepping the garnishes, “A flower on the house?” “Yes, on the house.” Eddie reiterated. “I can’t believe the first time you actually step foot in there, the florist who you’ve been eyeing for months, flirts with you within what? 5… 10 minutes of you being there! And you arrive with a dahlia of all things,” Chrissy says in almost disbelief. Eddie had already rinsed the now completely empty bottle of gin and carefully unwrapped the flower from its tissue paper to place it in and out on the bar in full display, “So? It’s just a flower, he’s a florist, it’s a flower shop. He’s probably given loads of customers free flowers.”

The statement was as humbling as it was disheartening. Eddie wanted the flower to be a special moment between the florist and him. But romance was never company, not for any of the Munsons. Romance was a daydream. So the realist in him crushed any hopes of love before they could take root. No one had won the key to his gated heart. “Oh come on Eddie!” Chrissy scolded as she placed the lime knife down, “Dahlias represent long lasting bonds, love, devotion. Flowers have their own language and meanings. This man thinks you’re beautiful and I’ll bet he also has a crush on you.” Eddie was struck, dumbfounded, “What do you mean flowers have language? You can tell all that by a single flower?” “Yes, Eddie, I can. Lesbians know a lot about Victorian flower language. It’s a whole gay thing,” she explained. He humphed in curiosity, contemplating this new information, “Well don’t get my hopes up too high. I barely spoke to him and I can only pray to whoever’s out there he’ll even make an appearance later.”

Steve wrapped up his shift soon enough. Thankfully a customer’s custom bouquet order held his attention for the last 2 hours making the time fly by. He left the keys for Vickie to lock up as she arrived and he ran out the door. He sprinted back to his apartment, and opened the door to the small studio decorated with plants, paintings Robin made for him, and photos of him and his step-brother Dustin. Steve rushed through his shower so he could spend a decent amount of time on his outfit and hair before racing towards the Red Dragon. After much deliberation and a quick FaceTime with Dustin and his girlfriend Susie he settled on his light brown bomber jacket with the olive tinted elbow patches, a perfectly fitted off-white button up with a small leaf pattern, blue jeans and his slightly worn down converse. Susie suggested most of his clothes which was new territory for them but Dustin reassured him he looked like himself and not the straight-passing jock he typically would anywhere outside the shop. Steve smiled in the mirror as he did a final fit check, laughing at the accuracy in which Dustin described him then was out the door without any further hesitation.

Part 3

[archonsoflove]

Here is an ongoing list of fanfictions I have enjoyed and followed! I hope you will find something you like here as well <3

CONTENT WARNING: Please read all tags on these fics CAREFULLY

A SMALL NOTE: my list will be continued in my Bookmarks section on my AO3 account! You can find it HERE <3

I now have a GRAND MASTERLIST where I'll be updating regularly!

Zhongli/Tartaglia

The Autumn Winds Are Sighing by Bgtea

Snow Kissed

The World is Water by brambleblood

The Bride of the Golden Dragon by Erika_Bee

Feel It Pourin' In My Veins by bloofleurs

Calm My Head by seofim

Where Many Things Come to Settle by cruellae

When The Fighting Stops (And The Music Starts) by cruellae

Between Dreams and Nightmares by applpies

Introspection by Cheruann

A Kiss to Show My Sincerity by oronine

Jade Without Blemish by melecs

Meteor Shower by valkyrie_cha

Pantalone/Il Dottore

The Art of Drowning by Pantalonely

The Three-Body Problem by melancholicsushi

Kaveh/Al Haitham

He Talks The Talk Alright by Pantalonely

Forbidden Fruits of Knowledge by vahveroinen

Baizhu/Reader

A Flower Without A Seed by Madame_Machiko

Tartaglia/Reader

Tricks of the Trade by Meabd

Tastes Like Heaven by Sondepoch

Ayato/Reader

Silk Sheets and Blue Linens by an orphaned account </3

Pantalone/Reader

Take All You Can, Give Nothing Back by viveriveni

It's All That I Can Give to You, My Dear by LocalPlagueNurse

Cyno/Tighnari

The Lessons We Learn by Sabyisaloser

A Cheating Man's Bouquet by ikouya

Scientific Curiosity by 75centramen

White Hair and Fennec Ears by Topone

Akademiya Conservation Log: 291223689 by morphasia

You're Exactly What I Need by DFP

Kazuha/Heizou/Reader

Between Two Tender Lips by @piripaprikawritesfanfiction

Thieves and Knights by dontperceiverwi

[cypressmoons]

minor spoilers for fontaine archon quest ahead

with a verdict, another trial draws to a close. the spectators stream out of the opéra epiclese, prepared for another gloomy, stormy afternoon.

yet the rain does not come.

a few dark clouds soon give way to the sun, the sky a crystalline blue that mirrored the oceans.

the people mutter to each other at the strange phenomenon, but are glad to enjoy the sunny day nonetheless. some theorize about the possibility of the hydro dragon feeling particularly at ease with today’s ruling, but most just simply hurry out to the streets, quickly filling the patio seats of the cafe or the park benches, as if afraid that any delay would warrant a sudden downpour.

hidden in the palais mermonia, as the warm sun rays seep through the thick velvet curtains, as the dust in the air dance in the beams of light, what the people do not see is the iudex of fontaine, aquamarine coattails splayed out like that of a mermaid's, being held so contently in the arms of his lover.

neuvillette’s head rests on your shoulder as you sink against the plush seats of the sofa, his thumb drawing mindless circles on your side.

he was insistent on you not coming to watch his trials, with the reasoning being lady furina's drama and flair too unnecessary to the legal proceedings. after all, what is the point of a serious trial when everyone acts like they're there for a theatre show?

what he doesn't tell you, is how much he hates seeing the minuscule changes in your expression when either side discloses a particularly disturbing detail. he knows how sensitive you are to such things, fontainians being dissolved to primordial sea water or otherwise. your sunny and bubbly personality being dimmed by the cruelty of the world is the last thing he wants to see.

if the world is really this cruel, then let him be the only one to have to bear it.

and so you don't ask him about how his trial went. instead, you talk about the new beverage the café lucerne is promoting, rumoured to have been invented by the blond traveller. you ask him for his thoughts on the legends of the narzissenkreuz institute, whether he’s seen the new bouquets of flowers laid out amongst shops in vasari passage, or if he’s ever been to the seaside and seen the cute little otters holding colourful shells.

you even ask him to tell you once again how all the different mechanisms operate at the beaumont workshop, to which he would patiently explain despite having told the stories countless times. his voice is soothing as he rambles on about cogs and gears and whatnot, even as your brain has long forgone trying to understand the mechanics. just hearing his voice, knowing that his mind is now occupied by all the other wonderful things the world has to offer, it puts you at peace.

and for once, it doesn’t rain in fontaine after a trial.

masterlist

[cnnmairoll]

hello hello! may i ask for a luka x fem!reader where luka sees reader taking care of the moles and he just gets this very homey and fluffy feeling within him? :'DD please only do it if you're comfortable + are okay with doing it given your sched!!! have a great day/night ahead!

The Moles' Beloved Miss

Pairing : Luka x Fem!Reader Genre : Fluff a/n : When I saw this rec I immediately stopped whatever I was doing and got into writing. Luka favoritism? Yes but I'm not sorry for it. Anyways hope you liked this anon!!

You had always been the nurturing type. Whether it was tending to your garden, or baking cookies for your neighbors, your heart was as warm as your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. You had a special place in your heart for children, which is why it was no surprise that you found yourself surrounded by a group of adventurous kids who called themselves "The Moles."

You had become fast friends with Hook and the other members of The Moles, Timmy and Julian. It all started when you noticed them playing in the park one day. Hook had taken a tumble, and you couldn't resist rushing to her aid. Since then, you had become their go-to caregiver, a role you embraced wholeheartedly.

One breezy afternoon, you sat in the center of a circle of Moles, their eyes wide with wonder as you spun a fantastical tale of knights, dragons, and magical kingdoms. They hung onto every word, their imaginations running wild.

Meanwhile, not too far away, Luka watched with a soft smile. He had always been drawn to your nurturing spirit, and your ability to bring joy to these young souls only deepened his admiration for you.

As your storytelling session concluded, Hook, the self proclaimed leader of the Moles, jumped up with enthusiasm. "Miss, can we hear more stories tomorrow? Pretty please?"

You chuckled, ruffling Hook's hair affectionately. "Of course, Hook. I'll have a new adventure ready for you."

Timmy and Julian exchanged excited glances, and Luka couldn't help but be touched by the happiness radiating from the children.

After your storytelling session, the Moles led you on a little expedition through the hidden corners of Belobog's Underworld. They showed you their secret hideouts, mysterious caves, and all their favorite spots for games. Along the way, you couldn't help but notice their youthful curiosity and wonder, and it warmed your heart.

As the day turned into evening, you returned to your small cottage in Belobog's Underworld. It was a cozy little place with wooden walls and a thatched roof, and it felt like a second home. You had a feeling Luka was responsible for its comfort, as he often popped by with small surprises, like freshly baked cookies or a bouquet of wildflowers.

Tonight, as you entered your cottage with the Moles in tow, you discovered a delightful surprise. The room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, and the smell of something delicious wafted through the air.

"Miss, look!" Julian exclaimed, pointing to a table laden with cookies, hot chocolate, and a pile of storybooks.

Hook grinned mischievously. "Luka helped us set up this surprise for you, Miss!"

And there, standing by the table, was Luka himself, wearing his characteristic warm smile. "I thought we could all have some cookies and milk and continue with the stories," he suggested, his eyes twinkling.

The Moles cheered in delight, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of happiness in your chest. You all gathered around the table, munching on cookies, sipping hot chocolate, and sharing tales long into the night.

Luka, with his infectious enthusiasm, added to the magic of the evening. He told stories of his own adventures, ones that inspired the Moles to dream even bigger. As the hours passed, you couldn't help but admire the way he connected with the children, just as you did.

The night drew to a close, and as the Moles left your cottage with tired smiles and full hearts, Luka lingered behind. He looked at you, his blue eyes filled with warmth and admiration.

"Thank you," he said softly, "for bringing so much joy to their lives. You have a gift.

You blushed, feeling grateful for Luka and the bond you shared with the Moles. "It's my pleasure, Luka. And thank you for always being there to support us."

With a fond smile, Luka reached out and gently held your hand. "You know," he began, "I think the Moles are right. You're like a guardian angel to them. And to me."

As you looked into Luka's eyes, you realized that this peculiar little corner of Belobog's Underworld had become a place of magic and wonder, filled with friendship and love. And in that moment, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

For your wounded heart

Pt.2

Pairing: Mizu x reader

Word count: ~1,6k

Notes: Heyhey im dropping part two, sorry for the delay, currently I need to prepare for my upcoming exams so i don't have much time to get creative, also this part may feel forced?? weird?? short??? if so its because i have no will to exists rn eheheh but i'll get back to this as soon as im able to

Ps.: Mizu's pronounce changes with the povs, reader is gn so far (if you want to change that let me know, i'll go with this for now)

Part 1

Something squeezed her chest tightly. The pain tore through her heart like lightning - dipping it into frozen snow, bitter poison, molten iron until she felt nothing but pain and rage. She was angry at everyone and everything for letting her hurt. And it hurt because everyone only brought sadness to her.

Blackness, red, and blinding white alternated, zigzagging before her eyes like a dragon. Black, red, white. Red, white, black. White, black and–

Mizu's eyelids popped up, and she rose from the ground, eagerly sucking in the air into her lungs.

The fire was there before her. It found her again — it could finally hold her in its grip again. Wherever she went, she was at the corner of the raging fire, the tongues of flames reaching high and rushing after her to swallow her up, to erase her from the world.

In the wake of a child that brings death, only fire that brings death can follow.

"Hey, hey…!" A strange voice spoke from behind Mizu, barely louder than the crackle of fire.

Mizu turned and extended her arms. Everything was blurry, she only saw colors and shapes. Something warm and soft touched her palm. She squeezed it and pushed it to the ground.

A thump, a painful squeak, and Mizu was on her knees. Underneath, there's something soft, or better said, someone soft.

The air quickly escaped from your lungs after the stranger pulled you to the ground so quickly and then weighed down on top of you. Suddenly you couldn't even comprehend it – one moment he is still sleeping on the ground, wounded and harmless and in the next he jumps up with the speed of a shot arrow, and tackles you to the ground.

For a few moments you could only gape like a fish; searching for air and words.

When your mind finally worked enough to not only care about your situation, you were finally able to look into the eyes of your savior, who was just trying to crush you.

The yellow-lensed glasses slipped slightly on the bridge of his nose as he looked down. At first, seeing it on the road, you thought you must have bad eyesight from so far away. Then his iris appeared in a strange greenish-brown light resembling mud. But your very first judgment proved wrong.

A sea of blue eyes stared down at you.

Now it wasn't just the lack of air that made you unable to speak - shock silenced you.

Mizu stared at the figure in front of her. They didn't seem like someone who could cause her serious trouble if a fight took place. Judging by the stranger's expression, they were more scared to death than determined to get rid of her.

She looked around — her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Rough wooden walls, rammed earth floor, open stove, small room. Twilight. A roaring fire, pleasant warmth. Smell of strong spices and greens and flowers. Bouquets hung on the wall.

…. The bandits. That someone, who was being chased, flashed into her memories.

“Were you on the road…?” She asked in an uncertain voice, weakly.

"Please don't hurt me! I only want to help you!" The one she saved begged under her.

As if the threads of her thoughts had been cut off, all of a sudden Mizu felt a slow, sluggish nothingness in her mind. 

There were no thoughts, no reactions anymore.

Where was she? Who was that in front of her? What happened?

Why did the searing pain from her heart begin to sink down to her torso?

Before she could voice her confusion, a sharp jab hit her side, numbing her entire body. Teeth gritting and snarling - she loosened her grip as she was leaning to the side, ready to fall like a full sack although still had enough alertness to catch the force of the fall with her arm. 

And her vision darkened again.

Ignoring what you're knocking over or going into-you crawled away from him as soon as he fell back to the ground. With a gasping breath, you tried to grab anything in your reach that could serve as defense if the stranger decided that he had no intention of "rescuing you" anymore.

"Damn it...what was that?" You panted as you threw your back against the wall, watching the still body- sickle in hand.

You just wanted to thank him for what he did for you, whether it was an act from the heart or forced. This stranger saved your life, that's why you brought him - dragged him all the way to the hut. And he has the courage to attack you in his fever dream after that?

It was a thankless situation.

After a few minutes of consideration, you realized that this mysterious wanderer is probably hallucinating in a feverish dream. Sometimes muttering incomprehensibly, groans as his face gets distorted.

"He’s just imagining…" You tried to convince yourself. "Surely having visions..."

The lanky stranger then moved; his body shook, a low, bitter sob broke from his lips as he pulled his knees and chest together in front of him.

"Visions of great pain and troubled times." You acknowledged with a sigh, finally getting up from the wall, walking over to him and slowly lifting the blanket back over him.

Kneeling next to his head, you stilled. 

You bit in your lower lip as your gaze fell upon his face. 

In his sleep if he’ll think that you are part of the dark images that are now tormenting him and try to attack him…

Slowly, as if you wanted to touch a fine spider web, your fingers hovered on either side of his head – unsure whether to touch it or wait for his dreams to stop.

Then your fingertips reached the dark curls of his; to the grizzled, sweat-damp, black hair. It was just a gentle touch of a breath, but as soon as it happened, the blue-eyed stranger's features softened.

A wanderer with blue eyes. A stranger - not only to you, but to all your people. Only those of faraway lands had colored eyes…

A cold gaze, translucent and restless. 

Blue like water, like the sky.

And those blue eyes then saw you on the road and decided you were sympathetic. Blue eyes helped defeat the bandits. Thanks to these blue eyes, you are still alive and breathing.

You didn't even notice how your fingers slid along his forehead, combing the stray strands to the side.

"It was up to you whether my life would end or continue. Now it's my turn to return the favor." You whispered to him with a faint smile.

You had to tend to his wound as soon as possible - putting himself to sleep won't be enough to heal.

But with that, you had a problem – you couldn't know how he would react in his sleep if you started treating his wound. Judging from the previous ones, you didn't think it was worth prodding the sleeping bear…

No - not again, you didn't want him to tackle you down half-asleep, hallucinating.

You thought about leaving your hut again; finish getting the herbs for your order.

But you didn't want to run into any of the stragglers again. So what if this half-blood wakes up just when you're away; without a word vanishing before seeing him again one last time, or worse - your home could be destroyed even.

You decided that, in the absence of a better decision, you too would go to rest, even just for an hour or two - winding down the previous excitement and letting your wounds heal.

When her eyes opened again, she felt as if she were being tossed around by a gust of wind; the room spun around Mizu, the figures blurred, the lights stretched. She sat up with a painful groan, her eyes glazed down to her stomach, her sides burning like embers—a dull but convulsive and unrelenting pain raging inside.

So much for being guided by noble actions. Once guilt, compassion wins over her better knowledge and she's already slipping to the brink of death...

From which the herbalist brought her back, the one whom she saved.

Carefully scanning the room, Mizu confirmed to herself that the healer was sleeping lying on a sack, huddled together, small, almost lost in the surroundings. A holey cloth blanket covered their body, which barely covered their - bare legs and arms hung out, revealing the thin, red scratches they might have gotten during escaping.

Now both of them carried the mark of the events of that day on themselves - maybe forever. Another wound, another lesson for Mizu: if you help others, it only gets you into trouble.

This was also the curse of the herbalist. They bring medicine, rescue those in need, and what is their fate? People turn their backs on them, chase them away, leave them alone in a little hole they can call home. 

Predictably leaving them to both nature and man…discarded because nobody needs them.

Perhaps the two of them had more in common than she had first thought.

As Mizu tried to get up from her bed, another spasm shot through her body, crippling her muscles. Gritting her teeth - so as not to make a sound - she fell back to the ground realizing with a frustrated puff that she unfortunately had to stay there for a while.

"Still – as stagnant water." She grumbled to herself with a sigh.

The fire continued to blaze, the embers continued to glow - covering the two sleeping figures in warmth.

Maybe only for a short time - but until then; the destinies of the two were intertwined in the web of life.

[roughcas]

Part 2 of https://www.tumblr.com/ssacassie/747166593478426624/wrio-x-femreader-kinda-angst-blood-swearing @sangoqueenkoko

not proof read or anything i need sleep enjoy

Wriothesley x fem!reader

The infirmary laid eerily still. Evidence of life was very little, other than the occasional sound of paper being turned. Heavy clanks on the lithium was heard ascending towards where Sigiewinnie sat, next to you. "How's she lookin'?" The dukes voice broke the silence. "Your grace, the chances aren't in our favor." All he was able to do was nod, exit the room and repeat this process.

The previous few days was all the same routine. He'd walk around for hours pondering on what he could of done different to have prevented this. Every step he took was a constant reminder of how surreal the last week has been. After a few hours he'd need to use the bathroom, or Sigewinnie would be able to convince him to sleep - all though that never lasted longer than three hour intervals. He's barely left your side. "Okay, you need to go to the surface," the nurses voice echoed down the corridor as she followed suit. Confusion arose in the man, why would he? You're down here. He's not leaving. "You're growing sickly pal and honestly I couldn't accurately tell you when you last saw the sun." "But-" "Get her flowers and come straight back if you need to." Wriothesley was still about to protest before Sigewinnie slammed the door giving him no alternative. "Doctors orders! It'd be unlocked once you catch some fresh vitamin d!"

With a simple phone call, it so happened Wriothesley ran into Neuvillite on pure coincidence. As soon as Neuvillite got a call from Sigewinnie, the worst was expected. To hear you were still fighting but he needed to distract his friend, he was waiting by the fleur shops. "Wriothesley," the dragon alerts his friend of his presence. After Wrio picks out the perfect flowers for you the silver haired man starts digging.

"When was the last time you slept?" 'Cause you look like you're the one dying.' "A few hours ago." "No, actually slept. Fulls nights rest?" A pause filled the air, whether it was from him debating the truth or just purely thinking he possessed the answer. "Days ago." At this Wrio felt him stop moving, staring at him.

"We all feel horrible for what happened to her," 'To you',

"But the truth is there's nothing we can do now other than let Sigewinnie do her job, and for everyone to hope." Icy blue eyes were finally able to meet, a pathetic sigh escaping Wriothesley. He knew he was being irrational and his friend was right. Before he could muster a response, "Go back to her. Make yourself comfortable and sleep. She'll be there when you rise, I promise you." And with that, Wriothesley watched him walk away. Alone, there he stood holding the flowers that mounted to know more than a bouquet of clumsy words and feelings.

The rest of the walk was short before he was able to open the door, true to her promise the door slid open with ease. A part of him hoped he'd see you awake, laughing. Or even better yet, awake from this nightmare with you holding him saying it was all just a bad dream. But neither of those were the cards. Nothing changed other than the nurses location. 'When will this paradox end.' he scoffed.

The flowers were now placed in a vase next to you, true to his word Wriothesley made a bed right on the ground next to you and slept.

------------------------------------------------------------

Sun shone in on the room evidence of a new day. The duke groaned getting up, stretching realizing how sore his body was from sleeping on the floor. In a weird way he believed it was worth it, he felt more energized. And for a while, even if it was only a few minutes in his dream; everything was okay again.

However once again his routine of reputation started.

as the day grew later a new guest snuck in the infirmary "How long has he been like this?" Navia asked, "Hours. A day." she quickly nodded before walking towards the duke.

"Wrio man. This? This isn't doing anything for anyone other than hurting yourself. Why are you torturing yourself more? I understand what you're feeling, we all are sorry for what happened to her." Theres those words again. 'We all feel bad' 'We're sorry.' How can anyone else understand what he feels? He's the reason you're dying. He should of looked sooner at you. He should of taken that side. He should of finished quicker to help you. He should of known an abush was going to happen. He shouldn't of even let you get out of bed that day. You're going to die and its all because of your sincerely,

A harsh snap drags him out of his thoughts. Resting her hand back at her side she continued. "Listen man you just gotta' hang in there for all of us and most importantly her." "I kn-" He's cut off by Sigewinnie rushing down to their spot. With his throat getting dry he feels his heart sink to his feet. What happened to you?

"Your grace, she requested to see you." His eyes lit up and sprinted to your room, swinging open the door hastily. "Hi." He froze staring at you. You're alive. His eyes search your face all over, not being able to say anything. What felt like forever but was realistically thirty seconds, "Are you just going to stand there or come and give me a hug? Sigewinnie said it wouldn't affect any of my stitches."

Needing no further push he was at your side in seconds holding you close to his chest. Your head laid on his heartbeat; being able to hear it. Muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, his head was placed on yours. After a few more seconds you can feel a tear slide down onto your shoulder. "I'm so glad-" he couldn't find the strength to finish that but both of you knew what the next words were. 'That you're not dead.'

"Sigewinnie told me how lucky I am," "I'm the luckiest baby. I don't know what I would of done without you, I'm so happy you woke up love." subconsciously his grip on you grew tighter. He pulled back, tears glossy as he held you. Smiling. It was the first time a smile grew on his face in days, he was truly a goner without you.

"I love you so much. I never want another moment to go to waste between us, ever again. I don't know what I woulda' done without you, princess. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to protect you better." "You didn't know, neither of us did. Okay? You can't beat yourself up about it. All that matters is that I'm going to recover, because its not our time to part yet. I love you too, Wrio."

The rest of the night he spent glued to your side.

As days ticked down, you were cleared to go home under the pretense you kept a low profile. Which obviously wasn't a problem as the duke was your right hand man, not allowing you to do anything alone. Out of curiosity and fear.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Babe you almost ready?" Wriothesley asked, fixing his tie. In honor of your life he felt the two of you needed to go out to dinner and celebrate, he wanted nothing more than to spoil his precious girl.

"Mhm! One second," you saying while looking at yourself one last time in the mirror before deciding you loved how you looked for tonight. The rest of the date went well, Including Wrio doing everything for you. "You look so fucking gorgeous darling." he showered you in compliments. And honestly? Spoil you he did.

"Was renting the whole roof top really necessary?" and it was as if that sentence triggered something inside him. He took a deep inhale getting nervous before taking a long sip of his champagne.

"Yes."

Before any questions were asked, he was holding your hand kneeling in-front of you with the most gorgeous ring you've seen.

"Y/n. I'm so badly in love with you. I knew I loved you the moment I met you; and from then it only grows every day. I've never been more sure about something in my life before. You. And losing that, was the worst week of my life. You bring me so much happiness I could never love another soul as much as I love yours, princess. I never want another day to pass without you knowing you're the love of my life, and the only person I want to grow old with. Will you, Y/n L/n. Marry me?"

and just like that, in the same way he did just seconds ago before turning both of your lives forever - "Yes."

The biggest smirk sat on the mans face as he stood up to kiss you, maybe the worst week of his life wasn't that bad at all.

[airplanned]

TotK Mini Fic

Do not read unless you’ve gotten all the memories and done the Tarry Town stuff.  For real.  Scroll on.

I’m this far into the game, so please don’t tell me more in the comments.

I’ve seen some people write angst, and--y’all--no.  This is the BEST.

Maybe it’s Rhondson’s own melancholy, but Link looks down.  He is not as excited as a man about to buy a dream home should be.  Distractedly, he stares off into the sky behind her as if searching for something, as if thinking really hard.

“So what do you think?” she chirps, trying to put enough excitement for both of them into her sales pitch. (It’s so rude of him to make her do that.  Doesn’t he realize that she’s having a hard day, sending her baby off?)

“I already have a…It’s complicated.”

“Look, I’ll give you’re a discount for all your help.  This could be your dream home!  Completely customizable!  And everyone could do with more space!”

He freezes.  He blinks rapidly a few times, and she can see the gears turn, see him come back to himself.  His face seems to light up as he finally looks her in the eye.

“How much space?”

 #

 Link’s house looks like a pagoda.  Tall and open.  He’s put some ramps on top to give a bad illusion of a slanted roof.

And…well…to each their own. That is the beauty of the Hudson Dream Home: if you can dream it, they can build it.

The first floor is a big square of normal house things. His bedroom tucked behind the stairs, a display of swords that…well, no one knows how he got swords that look untouched by decay, but there they are.  A prominent kitchen where he’ll show off that latest fruitcake he’s made for his girl. “We play this game where I try to throw bites into her mouth.”

There are piles of giant glowing scales and what look like shining monster claws. They look like they were neatly sorted at one point, but now there are just too many.   What are they? And why does it feel like they sing? For potions, he says.  And sometimes he fuses them to weapons.  

If anyone notices the tiny study he has tucked away, he gets bashful, rubbing the back of his head and saying that his girl likes quiet when she’s working.  If she ever…well, if she…he wanted to have a space ready for her.

“One time she asked if I would still love her if she turned into a wyrm.”  Then he laughs.

There are paintings. One of him and the princess and some other people all smooshed together for a group shoot.  One of Link and four glowing ghostly figures, all of them smiling.

Then there’s the one of the dragon.  It takes up the whole wall and is nearly life sized.  Link holds his slate out at arm’s length to catch his beaming face and one, giant, dragon eye framed with gold lashes.

If anyone comments on the dragon, he gets excited and says something like, “Isn’t she pretty?” or “Her face is very soft,” or “Do you see her antlers?  Aren’t they neat?”

Honestly, asking about anything Link gets up to just leads to more questions.  It’s not worth it.

The second floor is open to the air like a gazebo.  Around that, on the roof of the first floor, he’s put flower beds, which he tends with care, frowning over journals and botany books.  After a few weeks, the flower bloom, lighting up at night with a blue-white light you can see from Tarry Town.  Sometimes they’ll catch him carrying a bouquet.  “Bringing them to my girl.  I think I can braid them into her hair.”

As he plants his hands on his hips and surveys his construction with pride and hope, he explains, “She takes up a lot of space.  I imagine she’ll kind of…spread.”  He waves his hands a bit to express that she would presumably leave stuff everywhere.

He seems delighted by the prospect.

“If I can get her to visit, I think she’ll like this.  Yeah,” he sighs.  “She’ll like this.”

[honeyed-latte]

All the Riders deciding to have a Girls/Boys night, so they all lump together on the Edge to do their own thing.

Of course the girls dress up in pretty finery just to FEEL pretty for the sake of it.

Astrids gorgeous blue hangerok, Heathers hair is littered with a sweet bouquet of flowers, Mala has on the most complimenting lipstick.

Ruffnut doesn't want to play dress up, why bother? Just to see all the boys gush over the other girls and feel like a boar in lipstick? Yeah right. She's good, thanks.

Eventually the others weedle her into it, and she has to borrow half the things shes wearing, and Heather almost rips half of Ruffs hair out- but finally she looks like a part of their little group.

A pretty green dress that makes her eyes more pale, her hair loose and accented in small braids with matching flowers to Heather, and just the baaaaarest smear of that lipstick Mala has on.

She feels lovely, which is a new feeling, That is until the inevitable clashing of the group happens and all the other girls are fawned over. She expected that, she even expected Tuffs snide little jokes, those don't bother her.

What bothers her is that she feels ugly all over again.

Astrid and Heather are untouchably pretty abd of course Fishlegs, Snotlout and Hiccup loudly declare as much. Mala and Dagur are somehow less discreet in their disgusting lovey doveyness

...She swallows back that insecure dread until its the end of a long night of free flowing mead and axe throwing and dragon riding. Where she finds herself alone until she's not.

Its Hiccup, of all people, that joins her on the landing pad outside the stables. It shouldn't surprise her that if anyone noticed her declined mood it'd be their leader. They chat, nothing too serious but he ends there little moment alone together (a rarity indeed) to put a balm on the entire evening;

"You look beautiful tonight, well- no, actually you always look beautiful but especially right now, you looked like you were having fun. I can't remember the last time you smiled that way."

Its not about him calling her beautiful, its about how he did it that makes her stomach flutter and her face turn pink. He always thinks she's beautiful, but he thought she was the most beautiful while smiling...

Its private, its intimate, and she might hug him or maybe not. Who's to say? It was only Ruffnut and Hiccup there.

[sweetestofchaos]

Blackthorn Modern Day Teaser | K.NJ

summary - Welcome to Kim's Flowers & Apothecary! Did you need a bouquet or spell today?

pairings - namjoon x jungkook

warnings - sol, mentions of a past life, crying, hybird familiar!jungkook, warlock!namjoon

wc - .8K

a/n: Someone (@kokosg) wanted to chose violence yesterday, so I had to retaliate. Here's a little sneak peak of Blackthorn!Namjoon during the modern era. Also, Namjoon's outfit is shared at the bottom, if you would like to see what mans is working with now.

The modern day version of Blackthorn hasn't been started yet. I am still working on the Min dynasty half of Blackthorn. If you haven't read it, please do! Yoongi is a prince and Agust is his dragon spirit!

taglist: @thickemadame @loisje123

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The sign out front read Kim’s Flowers & Apothecary. The store itself was right out of a novel, a building that stood out on the street. The building was massive, built in an earlier time that had seen better days. The stone was darkened by rain water and time while the wooden door jam, windows and pillars were a deep oak with details painted in gold. It was a building that normal folk stirred clear of while those who still dabbled in magic eagerly seeked out. Plants and bottles of all shapes and sizes took up space in the large glass windows, to quip the interests of those who passed by.

Through the doorway, the room gave way to vine covered walls and an open glass ceiling that turned the inside to a grand solarium of sorts. It was magical with floating lanterns, inlaid bookshelves stacked to capacity with long forgotten text and scrolls; and cabinets filled with glass jars of Atropa belladonna, Verbena officinalis and more. The tiled floors were a lighter color to offset the darkness from the plants and blurred the reflection from the lanterns, creating a subtle glow from overhead and down below.

There is a hallway decorated in cream and green vintage wallpaper and wainscoted walls that leads to the garden; a large outdoor space with a greenhouse attached farther down the yard, past the miniature maze that was built for fun. Within the green hedges, Namjoon keeps a relic from a past life at the center of the maze. Surrounded by a magic halo, a large blackthorn tree sways gently in the breeze. Its trunk is wide and strong, showing its scares of the past to anyone who will look. A story that Namjoon will always recall whenever it rains.

Back inside a large oak cashwrap separates guests from accessing the more lethal ingredients that are kept behind an emerald velvet curtain in the backroom. A spiral staircase hidden in the back room that led to the upstairs where Namjoon and his partner resided after a long day's work. The homely apartment above is much more updated than down below.

The floor is tiled all throughout in soft grays, beiges and creams while the wooden furniture throughout is a deep purple with hints of lighter colors. The kitchen is large, the counter cabinets all a matching purple with lighter wooden butcher block countertops. There are floating shelves built into the walls, cluttered with plants and nick nacks from all throughout time.

The rest of the home is built much the same, softer tones brighten up the darkness of the purple and pull a renewed warmth into the atmosphere. The bedroom is the only difference, the walls were hand painted by Namjoon’s lover, Jeon Jungkook. Different shades of blue and pinks come together in a colorful and serene abstract mosaic that brightens the whole room on an accent wall. That same wall is where the bed is pushed up against with thick purple and blue bedding. Gold accents are littered through the room and bed, creating a galaxy like ambience.

Down stairs, Namjoon waters the flowers. A thick vine hovering nearby in case the warlock drops the watering can. Namjoon has changed through the years and yet stayed the same. His blue hair is now a striking blond and cut short, tapered close to his scalp on the sides and long around the top of his head. His skin is still dusted in a warm caramel from his time in the sun and his body has grown stronger, larger. The hanfu and hanbok of the Joseon dynasty have been updated to match the modern times, but are worn only when Namjoon is meeting with friends of his past. Namjoon now wears colorful capes, velvet robes, double breasted overcoats that have elaborate embroidery on them with simple slacks that match whatever color he wears.

Today he wears an all black double breasted suit and a black button up with a silk tie that he didn’t bother to fasten fully looped loosely around his neck. He has somewhere to be in an hour, so his long black overcoat is hanging on the hook by the garden door, with black and gold thread embroidery that swirls to create an illusion of a tiger and flowers. Namjoon speaks softly to the plants, his black shoes moving carefully as avoids stepping on any little critters that have made a home of his garden.

The door to the garden is ripped open and Namjoon jumps, his hand losing on the watercan as a green and white blur rushes at him. The vine is quick to catch the falling can but not fast enough to save Namjoon from tumbling a few steps backwards.

“Kook? What’s wrong, love?”

Namjoon’s arms wrap around his lover’s waist without a second thought, moving without his mind even telling them to. In his arms, with his face smashed into Namjoon’s face, Jungkook cries. His tears soak through the fabric of Namjoon’s shirt, the blond of his hair, tickling under Namjoon’s cheek as he rocks from side to side.

“H-Hyung!” Jungkook hiccups as he pulls his face away from Namjoon’s chest, his green triangle ears flicker around on his head as he stares at Namjoon with big, teary doe eyes. “H-Hyung….s-she’s here! She’s here!!”

[prophecyqueen]

definitely don’t imagine alicent going through an episode of feeling deeply lonely and also feeling guilty about it because her kids are right there and usually that is enough for her. definitely don’t imagine helaena noticing her mother being less engaged, less fussy, less in her space, which usually can be overwhelming for helaena. definitely don’t imagine all of them taking notice of how she starts keeping to herself and out of their way when she is usally so very involved in all of their lives. 

so helaena first writes to daeron in oldtown and tells him that mother isn’t feeling her best and that maybe he should ask their uncle to escort him back to king’s landing for a few days. she knows daeron can never refuse her. she also knows daeron is always missing them in oldtown. 

then asks aemond and aegon to meet her in her rooms. and even though aegon is many minutes late, he finally makes it. he seems concerned.... helaena doesn’t randomly call on him unless it concerns the children or something serious. he’s more often around these days but still not as much as he should be. he acts nonchalantly though, asking helaena what’s this about 

helaena explains that something is up with mother. she doesn’t know what exactly, but she seems sad. at first aegon tries to jest about it, but he is helaena’s brother. as much of an idiot as aegon thought she was growing up together, helaena knows him. something changes in his eye. 

aemond shows concern openly. he’s always been close to mother. she’s always been his best advocate. helaena understands that. he says he’s noticed too and says something ugly about their father who’s been hard to deal with lately, as illness takes over him more and more. aegon snorts, also saying something ugly about their father. 

and then they decide to prepare a dinner for their mother. they rarely have dinner together anymore unless it’s a very important event because viserys is too ill, aegon is never fond of the idea and their mother finds herself buried under a ton of work.

even aegon doesn’t oppose the idea. helaena makes him promise to drink a proper amount, to not upset their mother. aegon gets a bit mad at her for assuming the worst of him, but he eventually nods. 

helaena speaks to the kitchen maids and orders her mother’s favorite food and favorite deserts to be served. she also speaks to criston, who admits he too noticed that the queen barely smiles nowadays, preferring to throw herself into work and prayer. 

helaena asks him if he can help her with ideas about what would cheer her mother up and criston doesn’t seem like he’s sure of what he should say, but he does eventually tell helaena that he thinks the queen would be most happy if she could spend more time with the prince jaehaerys and the princess jaehaera. he tells helaena that always brings a smile to her face. 

helaena feels warm at the thought and nods to herself. she asks criston if he could talk to the smith about a necklace for her mother, handing him a piece of sapphire stone, one of the many that was gifted to them from faraway islands. it’s as blue as the one in aemond’s eye. 

criston seems lost at first, but he takes the gem from helaena and nods, bowing his head to her as he leaves. 

aemond is tasked with the important matter of making the most beautiful bouquet of flowers for their mother, full of roses and camelias. 

helaena knows that aegon’s mere presence would be enough to make their mother happy (she just wants him present, she just wants him to care), but to helaena’s surprise, in the days close to the date they chose for the dinner, aegon shows her a painting that he ordered for her, one of her and the twins together in their rooms, dragon toys in hands as they giggled up at their grandmother. aegon asks if helaena thinks it resembles them all and helaena thinks it’s perfect. 

daeron quickly lets her know he will arrive within two days on dragonback from oldtown to kings landing. he has received word that he can rest for the night at grassfield keep as tessarion cannot make the journey within a day. helaena is delighted and sets the dinner date for the exact date daeron is meant to arrive. 

on that day, everything is set: everyone is wearing their best clothes, the twins are seated at the table next to where helaena would sit, aegon is thankfully on time, the flowers are set on the table, the food looks amazing, and criston is holding the necklace that helaena ordered and the painting that aegon comissioned, both wrapped beautifully by their maids. their grandfather has also brought a small gift that he sets on the table next to him until alicent arrives. 

and just as helaena is about to start worrying, prince daeron walks in the dining room, all smiles just like helaena knows him. his brothers hug him, helaena does too, and the children are so very happy to see him. it’s a perfect timing too, as lord commander westerling is set to bring their mother to dinner soon. 

[ambazaar]

The Bitter Taste of Hibiscus 🌺: Part 2

Shanks x oc

Synopsis: Tessa, due to a complicated past, has an opinion about pirates. An opinion that's become a bit muddled since he came to the village for the first time. It's all inconvenient, really. Falling in love.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Use, Facial-Related Injuries, Fluff (may be subject to change)

A/N: I've barely read or seen ANY of the manga or anime so pls don't murder me about inaccuracies. I'm in love with OPLA Shanks and needed to get my frustrations out in writing. So have a fun, angsty short story filled with fluffy goodness. Will be updating as I can.

\\\

Shortly after the Red Force settled into port, Tessa left Makino to tend to her business with the pirates. She wouldn't be caught in the middle, not with her heart racing as fast as it was and sleep coating her eyelids so heavily. She thought to look for her street urchin, but realized halfway to his nook beneath the docks that he most likely would have snuck aboard the ship by now. He'd have bolted to see Shanks the moment he woke, having been counting the days until his return, of that Tessa had no doubt. The young woman sighed, unsure of what to do. 

Makino's voice rang in the back of Tessa's mind, warning her of regrets once more. But it was too early in the day to think of regrets. So, she turned back toward town, careful to avoid the main docks, and began the long trek from the beach to the cottage on the outskirts of the village. 

It was a small thing, Tessa's cottage, with a charming and rustic allure. The vibrant blue of the wooden planks that adorned its exterior had long faded from the coastal sun. The once bright yellow door, now tinged with a soft gray hue, hadn't welcomed visitors aside from Makino or Luffy in years. Inside, its worn walls were decorated with flattened bouquets of flowers that Tessa had picked during her hikes through the hills and paintings by her mother that were older than she was. She hung seashells with discarded fishing wire in an intricate path connecting the only two windows, which cascaded together in blissful chimes whenever a soft breeze caught the milky, lace curtains.

A large, peculiar-shaped piece of driftwood sat above the hearth, a gift from Luffy just one year prior. Not long after the Red Hair Pirates came and left Windmill Village for the first time, he'd found the driftwood on the beach and attempted to shape it to look more like the dragon figurehead of Shanks' ship. Tessa couldn't perceive the resemblance, but she never had the heart to tell him. So, above the hearth it stayed.

Inside the cottage was cold, as she had no need to light a fire last night, having spent the entire evening at Party's with Makino. Tessa reached for the dingy, red shawl hanging beside the hearth, wrapping it around her shoulders, and went to work on starting a small fire. Moments later, she swung a kettle over the open flames and nestled into the large quilt she'd spent most of the spring working on, which draped over an old wicker chair in the corner of the open room. The salty air of the sea drifted through the windows with the cool breeze, mingling with a scent almost like cranberries as Tessa poured the boiling water from the kettle through loose hibiscus petals. It was a tart drink, but one that served better to wake her than most things. She let it rest for a moment and sat back in the chair, turning her head toward the window.

Her gaze immediately fell to the pirate ship.

Despite the feelings Tessa held for their captain, she still remained uncertain of the Red Hair Pirates. She rarely spoke to any of them, usually just in passing and never for very long, despite the fact that they'd been coming and going from Windmill Village for over a year now. They'd established a mutually beneficial relationship with the islanders over that time, so much so that greeting the pirates at port became almost a tradition for some of the villagers. But not for Tessa. It was not completely lost on her that a band of respectful sailors was possible. But a band of respectable pirates? She'd never heard of such a thing.

The first time she found herself face to face with one of them, she'd been on her way to Party's to help Makino when she collided right into Benn Beckman, the first mate. He laughed it off and advised that she should watch her step. She couldn't recall what came over her that day, but his audacity sparked a fire in her chest.

"Well excuse me, sir!" She said, her voice already loud enough for everyone near to turn their heads. "I've never been made to 'watch my step' before you lot came, bounding about like you own the place. And usually when you knock into a lady, you apologize, not laugh in her face!"

The pirate laughed again, louder and much heartier than before. The pale of her face flushed pink, the anger coursing through her overshadowing any fear that might occur from the consequences of her outburst. But to Tessa's astonishment, he simply bowed, placing a large hand over his heart, and asked for her forgiveness. She didn't know what to say or do. When he met her gaze again, a genuine smile crossed his features and she stood there, completely bewildered. 

That's when she heard him for the first time, calling the first mate from beneath the canopy of Party's. "You starting trouble with the locals already, Benn?" He asked. 

"No more than usual, Cap'n." As Benn passed her on the dock, Tessa's eyes rose to the man that he'd referred to as 'captain'.

He was certainly tall, much taller than Makino who stood just beside him, with vibrant red hair and a grayish cape draped across his shoulders, and on his head sat a peculiar straw hat. Peculiar because it adorned the head of a pirate captain: the most fearsome sort of man one could come across. This man, with his straw hat and charming features, didn't look dangerous. In fact, as he watched her enter the bar, she found her gaze fixated on him, not in fear but in curiosity. Specifically his eyes. Dark as pools of ink under the shade of his hat, Tessa wondered in that moment the kind of stories they held within. But, as she arrived at Makino's side, she lastly took note of the three long scars that decorated the left side of his face and steeled herself at the last second, despite the man's warm smile.

"Apologies for my first mate, miss," he said to her. "A life on the seas sometimes causes a man to forget his manners."

Something inside Tessa tensed. Makino sensed it, immediately turning to look at her friend, and saw the hard expression on her face. "I'm sure manners isn't the only thing," Tessa retorted.

Though puzzled, Shanks chuckled and smiled wider in response. Heat rose immediately through Tessa's face, which irritated her more. She finally met Makino's worried stare and said, her words heavily soaked in resentment, "Since when do we do business with pirates?" She surveyed Shanks up and down, taking in the intrigued look on his face, and practically sprinted across to the other dining hut. 

Tessa looked back on that memory and cringed. She'd been so angry with Makino for helping them that day. She couldn't believe that in only a year her opinions on pirates would become so muddled. All because of Shanks and his crew. It was hard to believe there were others like them, at least for Tessa. Her own experiences with pirates had left a bitterness in her heart that cast a dark prejudice on them. So, in the beginning, she'd hated Shanks. She hated that Luffy admired him so much. She hated that the village placed their trust in him so quickly. But most of all she hated that, despite all her animosity and resentment, she'd still fallen in love with him.

She'd known it only a few months later when the pirates had returned from another trek across the seas and their captain called cheers for both her and Makino after they'd spent a whole afternoon making sure his crew was fed. She'd known it when she watched him help a young girl collect her basket of apples that had fallen to the ground, her tears shifting to laughter as he gave her words of assurance. She'd known it when he'd placed his hand over hers that night at Party's, though she hadn't been able to even look at him since. For all he knew, Tessa still hated him. But for the first time in a year, she no longer felt content keeping it that way. 

There was a sudden rapping at the door, which jolted Tessa from a sleep she hadn't known she had fallen into. Luffy was standing in front of her before she could wipe the haze from her eyes. "TESSA," the boy shouted, despite the fact she was already quite awake. 

"Yes, Luffy. What can I do for-" 

The woman's voice caught in her throat as she finally looked upon the boy's face. Her hand instinctively flew to his cheek, her thumb hovering anxiously over the tender stitches just below his right eye. "What on Earth happened?" 

"Tessa, you're not going to believe this! Look!" Luffy bounced away from her touch and stood just in front of the fireplace, the flames mere embers now; how long had she been asleep? Her eyes wouldn't leave the fresh wound on his face. 

"Luffy, please. Tell me what happened!" She urged him, but alas the boy ignored her. 

He raised his arm high above his head, and with a triumphant yell, swiftly thrust it forward. Tessa's breath was forcefully expelled from her lungs, leaving her feeling dizzy, as she observed the boy's arm unnaturally extending across the room, knocking her front door wide open and causing it to dislodge from the top hinge. Luffy instantly recoiled, overwhelmed by immediate regret, and looked to Tessa with sheepish guilt. "I can fix that," He said, lunging forward.  

Tessa's eyes were transfixed on the boy. She observed as Luffy attempted to hoist the door back into place, but found it unable to stay by itself, and had no choice but to let it fall once again. This time, the weight proved too much for the weakened second hinge, causing the door to collapse to the ground. Overwhelmed by an immense sense of remorse, Luffy avoided Tessa's wide-eyed expression at all costs. Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to explain.

She'd heard many stories about Devil Fruits throughout her life and the unnatural gifts they offered, but also the curse they bestowed upon whoever consumed one. A multitude of emotions swirled within Tessa's mind, yet one sensation eclipsed them all—an abrupt and profound anger that surged from the depths of her stomach, fixating on a certain captain with vibrant red hair.

I'm going to bloody kill him.

---

Part 3