#maybe Wilted Roses perhaps?

[thetopichot]

Ya'll what's your opinions on Vampire Auron & Yandere Finn as a couple? Cause like it gives me kinda Phantom of the Opera vibes with probably a mix of enemies & lovers ngl.

[hxney-lemcn]

When You Nerd Out (Biology Edition) — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: the overblots find out you're more of a nerd than they realized...

tw: mentions of bugs (not really but I digress), mentions of arachnids (literally just the name of one lol), mentions of reptiles (idk maybe people are scared of them), mentions of snakes.

a/n: a reptile show is happening soon and I've been looking into so many reptiles/invertebrates/amphibians I had to get this out of my system somehow. What better way then to ramble to fictional characters? (Help me)

wc: 1.2k (~180 per character)

Master List

Riddle Roseheart

When Riddle first met you, you were downtrodden, having just been thrown into a new world filled with magic and flair that yours didn’t. Your grades weren’t the best (but far from the worst), and you always seemed tired no matter what. So when your eyes lit up when he showed you the flamingo and hedgehog cages/pens he was surprised at the amount of facts that spilled from your lips. From how flamingos get their color to how hedgehogs are carnivores. Or how you could even ramble on about flowers and plants, like how tea garden roses are the most short lived species. From then on, Riddle would come to you for even the smallest of things. Did you want to feed the animals with him? This rose bush is wilting, are there any tips to bring it back? Do you know the meaning behind the colors of roses? No particular reason for that last question…just don’t question the bouquet of white and red roses mixed with baby’s breath that show up on your doorstep the next day.

Leona Kingscholar

It was hard not to notice when you seemed to be on the brink of exploding. How you’d stare at awe in Leona’s presence, as you should. But your eyes would always wander to his ears, teeth, tail, nails. It got to a point that he felt like you were mentally dissecting him. It was his downfall to growl out a short “what”, as you started to pile on questions to the beastman prince. “Are your nails sharper than a humans?”, “How much better can you hear?”, “Does your tail help you balance?” All Leona could do was stare at you with boredom. Who knew his herbivore was a nerd? He supposes he could humor you for a little bit. Press his sharp nails lightly into your skin, a teasing smile as he asks if you’d like a test. Perhaps a nibble to show you how well his canines work? It all goes awry when you start taking interest in other beastmen, who cares about the cheetah or leopard bestmen when you have a lion prince right here?

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul never thought twice about where he’s come from. He’s seen many kinds of merpeople, many kinds of fish or crustaceans or sharks. But he knew land dwellers didn’t have that, which is why he has the giant aquarium in his lounge. He got used to the awed expressions as well, more focused on swindling the poor souls. So when your jaw dropped and how you clearly restrained yourself from running up to the giant aquarium, Azul felt giddy. He could offer you something most couldn’t. He’d watch as you’d point out a fish or ray that you saw and explain how much you loved the color or how magnificent it looked. When you brought up how smart you thought octopi are, it was over. His heart couldn’t take it. You know he was an octopus merperson right? You were basically complimenting him without realizing it. He couldn’t get over how you stared in wonder at the blue ringed octopus that was waving back at you. And oh sevens you were giggling at it? He wasn’t getting jealous over another octopus, no way…

Jamil Viper

Jamil noticed the excited look in your eyes when you learned his last name was Viper, but nothing had happened at the time. It wasn’t until Kalim had you rambling about animals did Jamil realize just how much you seemed to love snakes. How you named your favorite in a heartbeat to how you scrutinized the ones you looked into as pets. It wasn’t until Kalim started to offer to buy you all those snakes and more did he have to step in. Yet Jamil felt flustered when your gaze landed on him, your eyes that had been filled with fondness while rambling about snakes had only seemed to get brighter when looking at him. Reluctantly, Jamil let you drag him to a reptile show, something Kalim had pushed him to do. For his own sanity, Jamil ignored the giant pouch of money Kalim tried to stealthily hand you, instead, focusing on your awed expression at the variety of animals. He couldn’t help but watch the snakes in awe with you, and when you asked him if he wanted to help you set up an enclosure for one…who was he to say no?

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is a busy man. With photo and movie shoots to interviews to taking care of himself, there isn’t much time to stop and smell the roses. But with you, he tries to make time, and it's like a breath of fresh air every time. It was nice to sit outside and bask in the sun (with sunscreen of course) and talk with you. Something had clearly caught your eye when you dropped from the bench to scoop something off the ground. Vil thought he knew you well enough…apparently not. He hadn’t expected to see you shove a rolly polly, pill bug, potato bug, whatever you want to call them into his face…okay maybe he’s exaggerating. You held the little thing far enough away that it wasn’t all too startling. He swore he never saw you so excited about something, or how you rambled that they weren’t bugs, but crustaceans that live on land. The way you gently held the critter to how fondly you looked at the curled up thing made Vil’s heart flutter. You always seemed to find beauty in things most would shudder at. How odd.

Idia Shroud

Idia had no idea how you managed, but you had convinced him to get a plant. You had called it a zz plant, and thought it would be perfect to liven his room up as it didn’t need direct sunlight. He watched the plant as it sat next to a grow light, it needed something since he didn’t have any windows. The dark purple leaves were pretty, you were right. As much as he tried to keep up with watering, he would forget, but Ortho seemed to have it covered. When little leaves started sprouting, Idia felt proud, a weird feeling he wasn’t used to. When you came over and saw how well it was doing you beamed. That stupid fluttery feeling filled him as you praised him, not to mention it mixing with feeling proud. Not a good combo, as now he was thinking of asking you if there’s any other plant you may recommend, just to get you rambling once more about different plants that could thrive in his little cave of a room.

Malleus Draconia

Although Malleus loves to hear your voice, you always seem content to hear him ramble. The way your eyes watched intently, trying to find what he was pointing out on a gargoyle, or how you’d ask questions about the differences of a gargoyle and grotesque. At first, he was concerned when you gasped, had you gotten hurt somehow? Yet he found you excitedly pointing out a house gecko that stood near the gargoyle he was talking about. He watched you in awe as your eyes glittered, and how you were basically jumping up and down. Then you started going on about geckos, reptiles, and all sorts of odd things people keep as pets. The way you basically swooned at the thought of owning a crested gecko or a crocodile skink, Malleus was ready to hand you all the money you needed. He is the best and worst, as he’ll never tell you no and fund your hobby till your heart’s content. Just make sure to pay attention to him too, yeah? Unlike skinks or tarantula’s, he likes your affection. Plus, he’s the best reptile of them all, no? He’d gladly show you his dragon form.

[obsessedwithceleste]

The Stages of Grief

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Prompt 5 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge🫶🏽

Summary: They say that when you experience grief, you go through five stages. And after being partnered with Lorenzo Berkshire for your latest potions assignment, rest be assured, you were experiencing all five.

word count: 6.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Denial

“Oh you’re kidding,” you groan as you finally spot your name on the list of assigned pairings for your next potions assignment.

You loved potions; in fact it was one of your favorite classes at Hogwarts, despite its demanding course work. You ironically found its rigid, methodical nature to be quite relaxing as moving step by step through the different recipes seemed to practically be second nature. It was a rhythmic dance that you followed religiously, finding thrill in the ever changing contents of your cauldron.

What you did not love however, or who you did not love to be more precise, was Lorenzo Berkshire. Flirtatious, carefree, and devilishly handsome, you were fairly certain that that boy could chat up a corpse. Or he could if he or his friends ever bothered showing up to class. It’s not that you disliked the boy per se, but to allow him onto your sacred ground? Into your sanctuary? You’d rather not.

Yet, there his name was, scrawled neatly next to yours on the board. It was like the universe had it out for you. Or your professor more likely.

“Tell me I read it wrong,” you complain turning to Daphne who was sat beside you.

The two of you had made an unlikely pairing in second year herbology and been inseparable ever since.

The girl just rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh come on, he’s really not as bad as you make him out be,” she sighs, scribbling notes from the board onto her parchment.

“Maybe not to you, but you’ve known him your whole life,” you grumble.

Personally, you’d always found the boy to be a bit of a prick. He was a pretty boy and he knew it, giving him a rather inflated ego you thought.

“Yeah, so don’t you think I might know him a bit better and perhaps be a better judge of character?” She asks.

“Maybe the professor will let me work alone.”

“Oh honestly, y/n. Look, at least he’s in class today. You’ll be fine, promise. And if he annoys you, even a little, I’ll owl his mother,” Daphne replies, not even bothering to look up from her notes. She was used to your dramatics by now.

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down,” your professor calls out, moving to stand at the front of the room before you can complain any further. “This next assignment will take course over the span of the next month or so, as you will be expected to collect some of your ingredients outside of class. So. Who can tell me a little bit about what this next potion that we’re brewing is?”

Your hand shoots into the air as soon as the question leaves your professor’s lips.

“Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It doesn’t really create love though, but rather infatuation which makes it one of the most dangerous potions in the world,” you recite.

“Yes, yes! Very good, y/n! Five points!”

“Really if it’s so dangerous, I don’t see why they’re teaching a bunch of sixth years how to brew it,” Daphne mumbles to you under her breath.

You let out a snicker. She had a point.

You turn back to the front of the classroom, tuning back into the lesson as your professor begins scratching away on the chalkboard once more.

“The ingredients that you’ll need to gather are as follows. Two ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, peppermint, powdered moonstone, pearl dust, and rose petals. You’ll have the next two weeks to gather your ingredients with your partners, so I suggest you begin,” your professor announces.

You feel your shoulders wilt at the thought of purposely seeking out Lorenzo, but you can already feel his eyes on you from across the room.

“Do you think if I ignore him long enough he’ll get the idea and just go away?” You whisper to your friend.

Daphne just rolls her eyes at you once more, shaking her head.

“Go,” she sighs, giving you a light shove in his direction before moving to join Theodore Nott at a different station.

With one last sigh of despair, you make your way over to the station where Enzo sits waiting for you, silently mourning your potions grade. And your mental and emotional stability.

“Mornin’ love,” he greets giving you a bright lopsided grin as you approach.

“Hi,” you respond dryly with a tight lipped smile.

“So, what’s our game plan going to be, darlin? I reckon we’ll want to get the hardest ingredients to come by first yeah?” He pushes on, ignoring your clear disinterest.

You nod your head in response.

“The peppermint, rose petals and thorns will be easy. We can get all of those in the greenhouse. The pearl dust- I assume we’ll need fresh pearls, we can probably get from the Black Lake.”

“Great. I think I have a moonstone in my ingredient collection. We can crush it down for the powdered moonstone,” Enzo offers.

You raise your brows at this. Moonstone wasn’t necessarily rare by any means, but you weren’t really expecting Enzo to offer up ingredients from his personal collection.

“That would work. We can also find them in the dark forest,” you reply.

“Nah, save us the hassle. Pretty girl like you doesn’t have any business in that musty old forest anyway,” he responds with a charming grin.

Ignoring his comment, you continue on to the last item on the list.

“I’m really not sure where we’re going to find those eggs. I don’t think we can find ashwinders on the school grounds, and they’re quite risky to breed.”

Enzo stares at you blankly.

“Remind me what an ashwinder is again love?” He says sheepishly.

“Magic serpent. Born from the embers of magic flames that are left to burn. You’re a Slytherin, shouldn’t you know all about snakes and such?”

“Yeah, let me recite to you the alphabetical list of all known magical serpent species that us Slytherins actually use as the password to our common room.”

You purse your lips at the boy’s obvious sarcasm.

“Fair enough. Still don’t know how we’ll get the eggs though.”

“I can see if we have any in our stores at the manor. Probably our best bet if we don’t want to risk burning down the school.” Enzo replies.

“Are you sure? We’re already using your moonstone,” you say, beginning to feel a bit bad about raiding the boy for supplies.

“It’s the least I can do really. I’m useless at potions, so least I can do is provide you with the ingredients that we need,” he says honestly with a light laugh.

“Well alright. Shall we meet up on Friday then to collect the pearls?” You ask, scribbling down your plans in your notebook.

“Sounds good, six o’clock? By the dock?”

You nod in agreement.

“Well alright then. See you then, love.” And with a grin and a cheeky wink thrown your way, Enzo is off.

At least he was pulling his weight in gathering ingredients you supposed.

Anger

“Y/n! Are you headed down to the docs?” Daphne asks slightly out of breath as she runs up to you from across the court yard.

“Yeah. Enzo tell you?”

Daphne nods her head in response as you two begin to make the short trek down to the lake.

“Hope you don’t mind if Theo and I join you?”

“Course not. Probably better that I’m not alone with Enzo by the lake anyway. Wouldn’t want him to try and drown me.” You say lightly, only slightly joking.

“Oh piss off. He’s a nice bloke once you get to know him.” Daphne laughs.

As the two of you arrive at the edge of the lake, you can already see Enzo, Theodore, and Mattheo splashing about in the water. Draco and Pansy are watching disdainfully from the shore.

You hadn’t realized this was going to be a whole party.

“Daph, please get these boys under control!” Pansy shouts when she sees the two of you approaching.

“I’m not their mum, they won’t listen to me,” Daphne replies dryly.

“Sure they will. Or at least Theo will, and the other two dimwits will follow whatever he does.” Pansy replies.

“Theodore!” Daphne shouts, turning to the three boys who were waist deep in the water by this point.

“Bella?” He calls back, visibly perking up at the sight of your friend.

You watch with amusement as Daphne points a finger at the boy and then again at the ground next to her. Theo slowly sulks over to the four of you, Mattheo and Enzo following in his wake.

“Really Theodore? You’re sopping wet,” Daphne sighs, only to be met with a sheepish grin.

“Hey love,” Enzo greets, prancing over to stand beside you.

It takes everything in you to focus anywhere but Enzo’s soaking wet shirt as it clung to his chest and abdomen like a second, very see-through skin. Bloody hell.

“Hi Enzo,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure we’ll even find pearls here? I thought pearls were from the ocean, and I don’t want to risk getting wet for nothing,” Draco says, eyeing the lake warily.

“Hogwarts a History says that fresh water pearls are common in the Black Lake,” you reply.

“What’s the difference?”

“Saltwater pearls are generally rarer, more expensive.” Pansy replies easily.

“Fresh water mussels can produce multiple pearls at a time, but oysters generally only produce a single pearl in their entire lifetime,” you explain.

“So how exactly are we going to collect these mussels?” Theo asks.

“Accio.” Daphne responds, as if it should’ve been obvious. Which it was.

Your now rather large group makes it way onto the dock, squinting into the murky water for any trace of mussels in the sand below.

Daphne finds the first one, and after that, they slowly start pouring in. Eventually, there’s a sort of system in place with you, Daphne, Pansy, and Draco scanning the dark waves for the elusive mussels, while Theo, Mattheo, and Enzo crack them open to retrieve the pearls.

It’s all going swimmingly until the boys begin to get rowdy once more, with Mattheo sending a small wave of water at Enzo when his back is turned. Daphne gives the boys several warning glares as the waves gradually grow larger, only for them to start up again the moment your backs are turned.

Eventually it turns into an all out water war between the three of them once more, and you scowl as you feel a splash of water hit your leg.

Could they not cause a ruckus for one afternoon? You thought bitterly as another mussel flew into your hand. You go to place it in the pile with the others when you feel a weight hit you like a ton of bricks. Then cold. Everything is cold as you feel yourself hit the water.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim once your head breaks the surface and you frantically wipe water from your eyes.

You look over to see Lorenzo in the water near you, a grin plastered across his face. His smile quickly fades however when he sees the pure murderous intent in your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” You shout, swimming over to him, and shoving him under the waves.

“Y/n! You can’t drown him!” Daphne yells from the dock.

“Watch me!”

“It was an accident, swear!” Enzo gasps when his head re-emerges once more.

With one last scream of rage, you make your way to land as Daphne runs to catch up with you.

“Seriously Daphne? What is wrong with him?” You rage as you storm up the hill back to the castle.

“I really don’t think he meant for you to get shoved into the lake. The boys can get pretty tunnel visioned,” Daphne offers as she follows behind.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who went for a swim,” you mutter between chattering teeth, the cold really beginning to sink in.

“Oh I’m not defending him. Not completely I mean. He was totally acting like a right git. The other boys too. I don’t blame you for being upset, I would be too. I’m just saying, maybe don’t be too hard on him? It was an accident after all, and he really did look sorry.”

When you only shrug in response, Daphne sighs.

“Look. Give him one last chance, and if you still think he’s the worst person on earth, at least exploit the fact that he really does feel bad, and milk it for all he’s worth. Okay?”

You let out a smile at this.

“Spoken like a true Slytherin, Daph.”

Bargaining

The following Monday when you take your seat next to Lorenzo in potions, he immediately turns his head, almost like he’s surprised you hadn’t demanded to be reassigned partners.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I really didn’t mean for you to end up in the lake, Theo just shoved me and I grabbed on the closest thing which happened to be you. I really am sorry,” he rambles, fiddling with the quill in his hand nervously.

“It’s okay. I know it was an accident, so let’s just move on, alright?” You say with a sigh.

Maybe if the both of you just moved on, this nightmare of a pairing would be over sooner.

“Really?” Lorenzo asks, his bright personality snapping back into place.

“Sure Enzo.”

“Excellent. Because I was able to get us these,” he says proudly, carefully pulling two little eggs and a medium sized moonstone out of his bag. “Oh, and the pearls.” He adds, placing the eggs, stone, and glass container filled with pearls on the table in front of you.

You eye the ingredients carefully before determining that they were in fact all up to standard.

“Perfect. I’ll begin crushing up the pearls, if you take care of the moonstone?” You say, already pouring the shiny orbs into your mortar and pestle.

The two of you work surprisingly well together for the rest of the class period, almost as if you’d been working together for years. It takes you by surprise how easy the brown haired boy is to work with. You hadn’t been expecting much, knowing that potions wasn’t Enzo’s strong suit. But he made up for it by making sure you never wanted for anything. Needed a vial for your pearl dust? It was in your hands before you even had to ask. A fire needed to be lit beneath the ashwinder eggs to keep them from spoiling? Enzo’s wand was pointed in their direction before you had the chance to open your mouth.

As class winds down and you go to make your exit, you feel a hand on your wrist.

“Y/n?” Enzo says, stopping you. You turn to look at the boy.

“Look uh, I know that you’re not my biggest fan, or at least that’s what I gathered from Daph,” he begins to ramble, scratching the back of his neck, “but, could we maybe like, just start over?”

You’re a bit skeptical at first, but seeing his nervous smile melts something in you. Being friendly couldn’t hurt, you reasoned. And it would certainly make working with the boy easier.

“Alright, Enzo, we can start over.”

“Wicked.” He says with a grin. “Don’t suppose you’d like to meet in the greenhouse later then to gather the rest of our ingredients? Promise I won’t drag Theo and Matt along this time.”

“Sounds lovely.”

The both of you agree to meet right after classes are released that day, and as you make your way down the cobblestone path to the greenhouse, you can’t seem to push the memories of wet hair and an infectious smile from your thoughts.

“Hi love!” Enzo calls out as soon as you push open the doors of the greenhouse. The boy is elbows deep in soil, pulling at the roots of a suspiciously pink colored plant.

“How’d you get here so fast?” you ask, glancing at the clock to see that classes had ended not even ten minutes ago.

“Herbology is my last class of the day,” he explains, brushing some of the dirt off his gloves.

“Ah. So you wanted to meet right after classes ended so you wouldn’t have to make the trek back out here?” You ask, fingertips brushing the soft petals of one of the many flowering plants growing within the greenhouse.

“Well, and I wanted to see you again sooner,” he replies with a shrug and a cheeky grin.

You roll you eyes as you feel your cheeks heat up, turning quickly and hoping he hadn’t seen.

“So where are the rose bushes?” You ask, looking around at the distinct lack of roses within the building.

Enzo gives a nervous chuckle. “About that. Apparently Professor Sprout didn’t think that the common rose was, ah, dangerous enough, for her plant collection,” Enzo says, gesturing towards the various plants, “so, uh, there are none. But! We can grow them pretty easily. It might take a week or two to grow a full bush to peak maturity, but it should be fine.”

You let out a sigh. Of course Hogwarts wouldn’t grow something as simple and common as a rose.

“Alright, well. Let’s begin I suppose.”

Enzo immediately perks up as he goes to fetch a large pot and a bag of soil and you begin to rifle through the cabinets to find rose seeds. After several minutes with no success, you feel a warm presence behind you as Enzo leans over your shoulder and plucks a packet off the top shelf.

“You certainly know your way around,” you murmur, looking up to find the boy’s face much closer than anticipated. You feel heat rise to your cheeks once more and you duck under is elbow, making your escape.

“Herbology is my best subject,” Enzo says, trailing behind you.

“Ah, so you’re the Slytherin version of Neville Longbottom then eh?” You say with a grin as you watch him fill the pot with soil.

Enzo grimaces, making a face.

“No, I’m much better looking,” he says with a smirk.

Bloody self-aware bastard.

It only takes a few minutes for Enzo to bury the seeds in the soil and place several incantations over the dirt before he looks up at you with a triumphant grin.

“All good to go,” he says happily. “Though we should probably check back in daily to refresh the enchantments and such.”

You nod your head at the boy.

Over the course of the next few days, Enzo uses your time spent together to pick your brain for any morsel of information he could get out of you. He really was determined to be your friend apparently.

“What’s your favorite plant?” He asks you on the third day of your little meetings.

You tilt your head a bit in consideration.

“No, no, wait, I bet I can guess. Is it peonies? Your perfume is peony scented right?” He asks.

“Yeah, it is. Peony and vanilla,” you say, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

“Knew it,” he says, looking rather self satisfied.

“And yours?” You ask, leaning against the table to look up at him.

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favorite flower? Or plant that is.”

Enzo pauses for a moment, eyes flickering around the greenhouse for a moment before landing on you.

“I like roses.”

“Really?” You say, scrunching your nose a bit.

“I’m a romantic, what can I say?”

“Gross. That’s so cliche.” You tease, a small smile gracing your face.

As the days go on, your time spent in the greenhouse becomes longer and longer as you and Lorenzo banter about the ridiculous questions he’d come up with. Did owls have knees? Which house would win in hand to hand combat? Were Theodore and Daphne secretly hooking up in the fifth floor prefect’s bathroom? (The answer was yes.)

You were shocked to find that, while still a bit of a prat, Enzo really was rather smart and witty. As the days went on, it became easier and easier to open up to the boy until the two of you were talking like old friends.

It happened slowly. You really didn’t even notice at first. But by the second week, you found yourself looking forward to your daily meetings, and found yourself thinking of the handsome brunette when he wasn’t around, and you caught yourself staring at the boy a bit too long after he’d already looked away.

Over the years of being friends with Daph, you’d often been forced into the proximity of the boy. Always noting the way he’d easily move from one witch to the next, his charm never seeming to fail him. You had been so determined to make sure that you would never be one of those witches. Just another tally on Lorenzo’s ever growing list of conquests.

But it had happened. The unimaginable. The impossible. You were falling for Lorenzo Berkshire. No, this simply wouldn’t do you thought to yourself as you made the familiar trek to the greenhouse.

Your mind raced as you thought of ways to stop this madness. Maybe if you went back to pushing the boy away. Or if you just ignored him. Yes. If you just shut him out, these feelings would go away.

Sarcasm

The next several days for Lorenzo were miserable. And that was putting it nicely.

“She hates me!” Enzo wailed dramatically, hanging upside down off the edge of his bed.

It had been three days since your terrifying revelation in the green house, and Enzo was very convinced that he was going insane.

He could still remember clearly the day that Daphne had introduced him to her new friend after one fateful day in herbology. You had been so wicked smart, and kind, and funny, and your smile had melted his heart. He was pretty sure he’d been in love with you ever since. But he was lucky if you even acknowledged his presence most days.

“Can you blame her? Didn’t you send a flock of peacocks after her when we were all visiting Draco’s last year?” Mattheo asks, squinting at his friend.

“I thought it’d be romantic! How was I supposed to know they weren’t friendly?”

“There’s also that time in third year, you knocked her off her broom playing quidditch.” Draco adds, scowling at the memory of Enzo harassing the birds on his family’s property.

“I caught her after!” Enzo protests.

“She still sprained her wrist.”

“Oh yea. And then you tried to give her a kiss as an apology, but ended up with a nice bruise on your jaw instead,” Mattheo laughs.

Lorenzo wasn't going to lie, that was a particular sore spot for him.

“And let’s of course not forget the most recent offense. Trying to drown her in the lake. Thank Salazar I wasn’t there for that scene.” Blaise mutters.

Enzo winces.

After the incident at the lake, Enzo was sure he was done for. The look of pure rage in your eyes had felt as though you had stomped on his heart, and then cruciod it for good measure. But then you had accepted his apology and even agreed to start things over. Enzo had felt the first real burst of hope after four pitiful years of pining.

Sure he’d made some missteps over the years. As his friends so graciously enjoyed reminding him, but he meant well!

The two of you had talked. Laughed. He’d even allowed his hand to brush up against yours a time or two, delighted when you didn’t flinch away.

And then, as if the switch had flipped, it was back how it had been before. Enzo felt like he had whiplash with the way you had turned right back around to treating him like a total stranger.

Theo eyed his roommate with concern.

“Bloody hell, he’s worse than you pining over Daphne,” Mattheo mutters, jabbing an elbow into Theo’s rib cage, earning him a sharp glare.

“I don’t understand! Things were going so well! She was actually talking to me and everything, and now it’s like I’m right back at square one,” Enzo sighs, ignoring his bickering roommates.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting from us mate. You’re supposed to be the romantic one of the group. Though with your track record, I’m not sure why we’ve been taking your advice all these years. You’re a wreck.” Blaise says, matter of factly.

“You tried talking to Daph bout it?” Theo asks, not quite sure how to help his slightly delirious friend.

“Ask me about what?” Daphne asks, seemingly materializing in the doorway of the boys’ shared dormitory.

She makes her way into the room, face morphing into one of both concern and disgust as she takes in Enzo's distraught state.

Theo eyes his friend, as if to say “good luck mate.”

Dragging himself into an upright position, Enzo considers the girl in front of him. How had he not thought of it before? Y/n’s best friend had been at his disposal this entire time, and he’d never thought to simply ask her.

Lorenzo turns to look at Daphne.

“Daph?”

“Yes Enz?”

“Does y/n fancy anyone?” He asks, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible.

Daphne raises a brow.

“If you’re trying to subtly ask if I happened to know of her feelings towards you, you’re doing a lousy job."

Enzo pouts, sticking out his bottom lip and honestly looking quite pathetic.

"For Salazar's sake, what happened?" Daphne huffs, making herself comfortable on Theo's bed, much to his delight.

“Enzo is down bad. Obviously.” Mattheo states.

Daphne shoots the boy a glare, rolling her eyes at the curly haired boy.

"We've been working in the green house together, and I thought things were going so well. She was talking to me, and laughing and everything.” Enzo says, falling back into his bed dramatically.

“Well then what’s the problem? You like her I thought.” Daphne replies with an annoyed huff.

“That’s just it isn’t it? It wasn’t a problem. But then suddenly, a few days ago, she went completely cold again. Like the last couple weeks never happened." he laments.

Daphne opens her mouth. Then closes it, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. For the love of- she loved you. Truly she did. But you were going to be the end of her.

“I’ll take care of this.” She announces, promptly rising from the bed just as Theo was about to sneak an arm around her.

He glowers at Enzo who gives him an apologetic grin.

Daphne had been your best friend for years at this point, and most of the time, she was convinced that she knew you better than you knew yourself. She wasn't blind. Or dumb for that matter. She knew that there were some strong feelings between you and Enzo, though she had never really bothered to figure out if they were positive or negative. Clearly she should've and all of this could have been avoided she thought wistfully to herself. At least this explained the strange tension between the two of you as of late.

“Y/n.” Daphne huffs, sitting next to you on a bench in the court yard.

“Daph,” you greet, looking up from your book.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you fancy Lorenzo?” She asks, staring you dead in the eye.

You feel your mouth gape like a fish out of water.

“Right Daph. Like I’d ever fancy that peacock.” You reply, doing your best to appear disdainful.

“Don’t you get an attitude with me.” Daphne responds. She’d always been able to see right through you. “Enzo told me everything. The chatting. The giggling. The immediate turn around as if nothing had happened. Textbook case of realizing you like someone while being emotionally constipated!” Daphne announces.

“Shhh!” You hush your friend, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed the scene. “You know that being mean and sarcastic is my only defense mechanism!” You hiss.

“Oh honestly y/n. We both know you won't be able to use that excuse forever.” Daphne says with a dramatic eye roll. “Besides, he likes you too. Why do you think he’s always preening when you’re around. He’s trying to impress you, you dolt.”

“Fantastic. He’s only a prat when I’m around. How romantic,” you mutter.

“Well you certainly didn’t think he was being a prat when you were spending all that time in the green house together. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two disappearing for several hours. No one is spending that much time every day looking at flowers.”

“We were just talking,” you defend.

“Mmhm. And then you stopped talking because you got scared and now Enzo is a wreck.”

You feel a pang of guilt. You hadn’t meant to hurt Enzo. You hadn’t thought that he actually might like you too.

“I’ll apologize tomorrow in class, I guess,” you mutter.

Daphne sighs.

“Look. I’m not saying that you have to date him, or even tell him you like him. But you’re both my friends, and I don’t like seeing either of you upset.”

“I know Daph. I’m just confused is all. I thought I hated him.”

“Well, I’ve always been told that the line between love and hate is fine.” Daphne replies.

Bloody hell, when had your friend become this philosophic?

“I’ll get it sorted tomorrow. Promise.” You tell her.

Daphne nods, giving you a comforting smile.

“Good. And word of advice. Drop the sarcasm, Enz might cry if you put him through anymore emotional whiplash.”

Acceptance

You sat nervously in the potions classroom having arrived close to fifteen minutes early as you couldn’t shake away your nerves. Glancing at the clock on the wall, your classmates should start filing in at any moment.

You’d finally managed to gather all the need ingredients for your potion, so today would be the day that you and Enzo would be able to brew your amortentia.

Your fingers twirled the stems of the roses you’d collected mindlessly as your thoughts buzzed between your conversation yesterday with Daphne, and the fluffy haired brunette boy that had taken up permanent residency in your every thought.

Remembering the silly game one of your roommates had played years ago, you began plucking the rose petals off of the stem, one by one. You were going to have to do it eventually anyway. He loves me, he loves me not, the phrase repeats in your mind.

“Look nervous,” A voice comments from behind you.

Startled out of your thoughts, you look up just in time to see Enzo take his seat beside you.

Clearing your throat, you give the boy a small smile.

“Just thinking about the potion. Not going to be an easy one to brew today, and I’d like to get a good mark,” you reply.

“Of course.” Enzo replies, a strained look on his face. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time then.”

You open your mouth to reply, but close it again when no words come to mind. Instead, you opt to sweep your rose petals into a small pile and begin shaving off the rose thorns as Enzo wordlessly takes out the gold cauldron, lighting a fire beneath.

“So,” you say awkwardly, the deafening silence finally getting to you. “How bout that weather?”

You hear a clatter as Enzo drops pestle he was holding to look at you incredulously.

“I know some of my conversation attempts were bad, but that was downright criminal.” He says with a snort.

Unable to hold back your laughter, you let out a giggle. “Yeah, I’ll see myself to Azkaban for that one.”

And just like that, the two of you fall back into your comfortable rhythm of idle chatter, jokes, bickering as you work seamlessly together.

You can’t help but watch with silent admiration as Enzo dutifully stirs the cauldron, careful to keep even counter clockwise strokes. A few tendrils of soft brown hair fall in front of the boy’s face and he gently blows them to the side with an annoyed puff.

“Pearl dust?” He asks, reaching his hand out.

As you hand him the vial, your fingertips brush softly, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. The heat from the cauldron must be really getting to you.

“If you just want to add the powdered moonstone, we should be all done,” Enzo says after a moment, taking a step back to allow you to complete the final step.

Slowly, you approach the boiling cauldron, carefully sprinkling in your meticulously measured moonstone powder. You stir the concoction a bit longer until you see a familiar pearlescent sheen and swirling tendrils of steam.

“Think we’ve done it,” you say with a smile, looking over at your partner.

He grins back, joining you in leaning over the steaming cauldron.

“Well? What do you smell?” He asks cheekily.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“We both take a wiff? On three?” Enzo asks.

You nod in agreement, watching the swirling colors within the cauldron. They say that amortentia smells like the things you’re most attracted to, and you’d always been curious what scents the potion would elicit for you.

“One, two, three.”

You lean in, and immediately you’re hit with the earthy scent of fresh soil, a soft hint of rose, and something else- oh. Oh. You feel your eyes widen.

“Peony. And vanilla.” Enzo murmurs, head still hovering above the cauldron before he turns to look at you.

The moment your eyes meet, you both know.

“I need a moment,” you mumble, hurrying out of the classroom.

As you rush past Daphne’s table, you hear the girl run after you into the corridor.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Daphne asks as the two of you come to a stop in a small alcove that’s somewhat hidden behind one of the many large stone statues that decorate the halls.

“It’s Lorenzo. My potion- it smells like Lorenzo. Or, it smells like fresh soil, and roses, and that stupid expensive cologne that he always wears,” you gasp, out of breath.

“Oh? And what did he smell?”

“Me. My perfume. Peonies and vanilla.”

“Well, that’s good then isn’t it? That you both smelled each other? I know when we talked yesterday I said you don’t necessarily have to tell the boy you fancy him, but, if you both really like each other that much. What’s the harm?” Daphne tries to reason.

“I don’t know! I just didn’t realize I liked him that much and it freaked me out. And I’ve been icing him out these past couple days, so he’s probably so cross with me. But he’s been so nice today, I don’t know what to do Daph. I’m not good with feelings. I was never going to act on anything!”

“Is that why you did all that? Back there?” A voice asks. “And why you’ve been acting strange the past several days?”

The two of you whip around to see Enzo staring wide eyed at the both of you, mouth slightly agape.

“I think I’d best let the two of you sort this out,” Daphne says, slipping out of the alcove and back into the classroom.

“I’m sorry, you weren’t meant to hear any of that,” you start as Enzo wordlessly approaches.

“You like me?” He asks once he’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. He looks genuinely surprised at the notion as he stares down at you intensely.

You nod slowly. “Smelled you in that bloody potion,” you mumble.

Enzo’s smile falls.

“Is it that bad? Liking me?” He asks, hurt written across his face.

“No! No it’s not! I just thought I didn’t like you- no, that’s not what I meant. I was surprised that I fancied you is all, and didn’t know what to do. Because we’ve know each other so long, and we haven’t necessarily always gotten along. And I didn’t really realize I liked you at first, and I got all freaked out and then I panicked, and-“

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” Enzo asks, interrupting your rambling.

You freeze, looking up at the boy in front of you.

“Yes please,” you murmur.

Without wasting another moment, Enzo’s lips meet yours with a hunger and passion you didn’t realize the boy had in him.

Any last trace of doubt or worry you had disappears as his soft lips move against yours, melting you into him like putty in his hands.

Right as you’re about to run out of air, you feel Enzo’s lips trail off to your cheek, placing gentle kisses as he trails down to your jaw, and then your neck.

“Enz,” you mumble softly as you feel the warm, sucking sensation against your skin in the crook of your neck.

“Shh,” he whispers, lips meeting yours once more.

You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation as he moves against you until Daphne’s voice brings you back to reality once more.

“Just so you’re both aware, we are still in class,” she calls from around the corner.

You feel your cheeks heat up as Enzo lets out a soft laugh above you.

“Rest assured love, we will be coming back to this later,” he says before placing a kiss on your forehead and leading you back into the classroom.

If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’ll take any excuse to write a cheesy amortentia fic🤪

Special thanks to @finalgirllx and @pizzaapeteer for editing and rvwing🫶🏽

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Sunflower Valentine

artwork by @eu--lalia

Higurma Masterlist

Imagine leaving Higuruma a bouquet of sunflowers on his desk on Valentine's day.

He'll quickly deduce that whoever left them was making a play on his name and his career as a lawyer. So it's someone he knows.

Although he'd prefer roses if someone was leaving him flowers, he's flattered nonetheless that there's a person believing he's bouquet worthy.

The little card that came with them says 'To balance out your gloominess'.

He'll chuckle to himself 'Gloomy? I'm not gloomy. Broody perhaps.'

The rest of his day is spent trying to figure out who sent them, and he'll have a goofy grin on his face whenever he glances at them. He'll try his best to draw attention to them every time someone comes in the room, like he's not so discreetly saying 'someone sent me a Valentine's bouquet!'

"Pretty bouquet." You comment as you walk in to hand him a report.

"Oh, noticed them did you? Looks like I'm popular around here," he'll drawl, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

"Or it could mean someone doesn't want to look at you again."

His smugness fades. "What do you mean?"

"Oh cmon, you know the old Greek tale? Apollo turned his lover Clytie into a sunflower so that he'd never have to look at her face again after she betrayed him to a sea nymph."

His cheer immediately drops and you feel bad for him. "But I doubt that. Very few people know that fact. I'm sure whoever sent them intends to see your face again. Perhaps the next day morning."

"Next day morning?" he sounds confused.

You nod your head. "Yeah. Sunflowers need to be plucked in the early morning otherwise they wilt. So maybe whoever sent them was hoping they'd see your face the next morning after you've... Wilted."

You give him a playful smirk and walk out.

"Wilted...? What...?"

It takes a few seconds before the cogs in his brain start work.

"Hold on now y/n!"

He scrambles out of the office behind you.

Sunflower divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[randomfanner]

ok but could you picture what would happen if you brought Astarion a bouquet of flowers? Just out of the blue showed up with an elegant bouquet of red roses or perhaps a collection of lilies, maybe a collection of wildflowers you picked. Really what kind of flowers you bring him don’t matter

Because no matter what he just kinda of stands the stunned and “oh darling is this a prank?”

and it isn’t

and he just kind of takes them, mutters out a thank you and he goes to put them in a vase.

long after they are dead and wilted he insists on keeping them. Anyone who tries to throw them out will have a dagger tossed towards them.

[ataraxiaspainting]

The End.

Yan Kafka x F Reader.

Synopsis: Kafka always sits in the front row, despite being part of the show herself.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, thoughts of violence, manipulation, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich (feat. The Dixie String Quartet)

Swan Lake by HAUSER

Claus by Los Tres

Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray

Lie by BTS

She’s My Collar by Gorillaz (feat. Kali Uchis)

Cha Cha by Freddie Dredd

Michelle by Sir Chloe

MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) - SATAN’S EXTENDED VERSION by Lil Nas X

*~*~*~*

The roses are wilting.

It was destiny, fate. Such pretty things never last forever, after all, even if the entire universe wished otherwise. One way or another, they are meant to fall, like how the sun drops below where anyone can see it, being replaced with the moon, and vice versa. They fall deep, deeper than hell itself, and no one can pick them back up, unless one would be inclined to make a pact with the devil himself, doing horrendous things in his name. But Kafka has already committed such sins, so why deny doing so any longer? It is who she is. It is who you are, to be entangled in her lies and be forced to dance and to sing and to act.

With two gloved hands, she picks up the vase, spilling out the moldy water and the dying roses, the roses she got for you after you sang so well at the opera house, looking so beautiful, into the trash can underneath your makeup vanity, where little clumps of hair and emptied products always meet their end.

She’ll get you a new bouquet later. A new vase too. Perhaps instead of white roses you would like red ones instead? Kafka knows that this vase is cheap too, from one of your fellow divas, whose high notes are not as high as yours and her costumes not as elaborate or as elegant as yours.

“I honestly don’t see why you even try to befriend any of them, darling. They are all envious harpies. They can’t hold a candle to anything you do.”

You are not here, but Kafka’s mouth always has a mind of its own, so it spins lies even when your delicate, lovely ears are not in the general vicinity. Not that she minds it. But yours is what she is quite more so than trifles with, because yours is carefully controlled by her and her alone, and you, as always, don’t get a say. It’s a sort of hypocrisy, Kafka thinks, but she doesn't mind that either.

If she has to, she’ll even sew your mouth shut, your ears shut, your eyes shut, if that is what it takes for you to stay with her. She doubts it would ever come to that, though, because you are always too fragile and too trusting to tell the difference between an Iago and a Desdemona. But the latter role would much better suit you, her little flower, her princess.

You are so precious, but also a treasure prying eyes will always want to touch and see and hear. Kafka would, in all honesty, love to cut their hands and tongues off, if it did not ruin the carefully crafted image she made just for you. Maybe later, though, when all the stage lights are off.

“Lady Macbeth, hmm?” She murmurs.

She disagrees with the role you were given entirely. But, you were not one to stand up for yourself, so Kafka let it go. 

“You really ought to leave this business soon, dearest.” Kafka looks around, her arms crossed, not impressed with the room you were given in the slightest. “You can always just come with me.” She meant it. “Imagine all the sights you would see. All the food you would eat. All the gifts I would be so happy to give you. All the hugs and kisses you would receive from me. Everything… just think about it.”

She could imagine it herself. It is not hard, really, for the mind to reject all sense of logic and bow down to the whim of what is known as human emotions, mortal joys, woes, desires, wants, and needs. She could imagine sitting you on her lap as the ship jumps to the next world she will have to visit, telling you stories of the past, present, and future, as you look on with amazement. You don’t do that anymore, now. She would do anything to see it come back. She would steal a crown and place it on your head, though you having the genuine article does not make you any stronger. If anything, perhaps it would make you weaker to her whims.

“Imagine that…” She sighs, closing her eyes as she smiles. “We can go to Penacony. Your dreams would come true there if I cannot make them true myself. You can sleep on beds worth more than this entire opera house. If only you would let me. I know it would make you happy. I know it would make me happy. So why wouldn’t it make you?”

She would listen to your ultimate pains, and your ultimate wishes, and act accordingly. She loved you. You will too, again. It is only a matter of time, isn’t it? Yes, Kafka thinks, it is fate. 

…

Kafka always sits in the front row of the theater.

It does not matter whether or not she purchased the tickets for it, the seat, or the show soon to come to fruition. No one dares talk back to her, even security. She finds comfort in that. No one gets in the way of her having the chance to see you. Better yet, no one else sits in the front row when she is present.

So, she watches, one of her legs crossed over the other, her eyes never blinking. During interludes she likes to adjust her makeup accordingly, painting on another shade of crimson to her lips. Art comes in many forms, after all.

Kafka told you that once. As always, you listened dutifully as she taught you to be.

She taught you many things, not just that. She taught you how to read constellations. She helped you learn her vocabulary in the books she gave you, often long fairytales or poems. She preferred it that way when you used to be so eager to have someone be friendly to you and not want to simply use you for their own amusement, not wanting to throw you out of the opera house altogether.

The opera house may rot after it goes up in flames, in the future, if things go her way as it always does, but she’ll stay to watch it all, to take you in as you cry and as she shushes you. She’ll be happy. Maybe you will be too, for her. It matters how good your performance is, if you even want to act anymore, after all.

The lights dim, and she shows her pearl-white teeth as she grins.

[maehemthemisfit]

𝘊𝘈𝘕'𝘛 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘙 𝘔𝘌 ? 𝘐𝘔 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌.

♡𝅼  pairing : wanderer x reader

♡𝅼  content : angst + major character death + poetic format

The wind chimes always sound when he arrives at your door, carrying a gentle breeze that sways the flowers in his hands. Even though he doesn't have to, he still knocks before he enters, slipping off his shoes while announcing that he's home.

His steps are silent on the hard wooden floor as he pads to the table to add the roses to the vase. To the kitchen, he travels, taking two bags of tea, he makes his first and he brews his bitter.

He slides your cup against the counter, sugar and honey at his side. He twirls the spoon before he dips, scoping up grains to sugarcoat lies.

One spoon. Two spoons. Three spoons. Four. He takes a sip and gags at the sweetness. Five spoons. Six spoons. Seven spoons more. He decides to spare his tongue the misery again.

To the table once more he places your cup, filled to the brim with your favorite tea. His sits at the chair across from yours and glides his finger over the rim of porcelain.

"Sumeru roses?" He hears you say, and his eyes shoot up to the sight of you.

"I stumbled upon them on my way, I thought I'd replace the ones that died."

The word of death lays heavy on his tongue, and for a moment you disappear. He shakes his head and sips his cup, and once again your touch is near.

Behind his back you cup his face and place a kiss atop his head. He melts into your touch until your ghost reminds him that you're dead.

And suddenly you disappear, his vision shifts to what is true. Twenty cups across the table, filled with tea he former brewed. The sugar is spilled across the counter and honey soaked the floor. And if a raven comes they'll say his love is nevermore.

The trash is filled with piles of wilted flowers from the past. Tears drip into his bitter tea since...

"Humans never last."

He shakes his head then blinks his eyes and mutters in confusion, he remembers he had plans for tea and give in to his delusions. You must be sleep inside your room, of course! he hears you snore. He recalls that you were low on sugar, he decides to fetch some more.

Maybe he should get you flowers, perhaps your favorite kind? He tips his hat and leaves the door, and hears another chime.

listened to an edit audio and immediately had this idea, i have a version for cyno and tighnari in mind too if you guys wanna see ?

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

[gofishygo]

[PRIDE MONTH- WEEK FOUR] : through green hydrangeas (my heart lies) price x ftm reader (part 2/2) - UNFINISHED

(i will complete this once i am unsuicidal and motivated)

[PART ONE] | notes: medical settings, description of injury, should have a good ending but like rn its not necessarily very bonita for either of them

The next time you and Johnathan price meet each other is indeed, in Burningham.

The doctors treating you had come with a prognosis- a puncture to the intestine. Through the whole eight hours of the surgery, the whole two weeks of an induced coma, he’d shadowed it behind a glass window. His now practically immune to the scent of disinfectants, the lemon-stained chemicals burning at his nose until the chemoreceptors in them saw nothing, felt nothing. He compares it to a black hole, how his sensory limbs have dulled since his career; his ears are now half drowned, all noose shallow and diasporic, left behind at a botched mission in 2002 Moscow. The keenness of his nose now snuffed by a recent disaster with chemicals. His body is trying and failing, pulling the weight of the world on its shoulders and inside the gaping voids of his chest, always consuming, killing, but never truly settled. Never truly sated.

And now his eyes have resulted in you being eaten, now his ears have resulted in you being ripped at your core. His body has chewed you and, and was left to spit out your body, just like Johnny-

He is scared of looking into closed eyes-they remind price too much about him. So, he leaves the living pearls alone, refuses to peel the skin back to see your colours. He never wants to chew again, not after this.

In every other world be should have stayed attentive, should have yelled at you to not mount the doorframe. But now you are here, bandage wrapped vice-tight below your own scars under your chest and blanketing part of your tattoo, and guilt and pity and some dark festering emotion he couldn’t pinpoint layer and boil like bile in his kidneys. Threatens to spill over into his throat and all over the bed when he is finally allowed to take the compression off. It reveals the shooting star of a wound, crusted tail stretching and expanding into arms that seem to try reach across your skin, to take more of the body it had infested. And he fears you will meet the fate of Johnny- that the wound had claimed your soul instead of your life. And it was an early death too, for the man he had met, for the private who’d body he thought he’d fully memorised a decade ago. The short-lived life of the man who smiled with his whole face for the woman who couldn’t. He knows you have changed, have grown up and out of your past life.

But he can only hope that now; you are strong enough to live through it.

On the nineteenth day of your bedrest, John seems to notice that the slow trickle of bouquets and cards of condolence had been wrung dry, petals brown and crusting on the small bundle of roses that Gaz had left on the bedside since the beginning of your stay in the hospital. The colour of the wilt now matched his increasingly darkening eyebags, crow’s feet near buried, shallow dents in the corner of his peripherals. Pads of his fingers rest atop your forehead- and he knows no matter how dysregulated your internal temperature was since the mission, the number of degrees in your body would always be more than the amount of “get well soon’s” you were given. Some stone of pity seems to snowball at the tip of his tongue and lodge in his throat at the lack of a similar last name on any of the unopened cards left to collect dust on the table. Perhaps, since you’d dropped your original name, the people who’d carried your last refused to see you. And maybe, the idea that the number of degrees your body temperature was also outmatched the number of times you’d seen your relatives since your transition. And maybe, you had been alone for that stretch of years, without familiar flesh to grip onto or a face to share your ashtray and lighter with.

(When long-abandoned lawns are left unattended, they seem to flourish. Rainwater fills the cracks of pavement, toadstool and wildflowers sprouting between the roots of household weeds. In miracle, you had thrived in your isolation.) With one of your eyes slightly peeled open and fixed towards him, and voice barely gathering into the creak of a tree deforested, you ask what is wrong. Price swallows: and he replies with silence.

But even in your quarter-dead state, the captain can’t seem to stomp out the embers of your stubbornness. You’d always cared for him, affection growing teeth and latching onto him with a grip near impossible to pry. In warmth, it held him, in cold, it smothered him. “Put a lid on it, private,” its some form of rumbled warning, a predecessor to earthquakes that would split continents open. “Laswell called. All six targets got taken down, thanks to the work of you and the ULF. Another mission cleared, another day of living.” The dynamics of your exhale sound oddly like a rendition of price’s puff of a cigar. He can faintly recognise the lethargy, energy seeped out of your injuries, clearly exasperated by the way he slams shut at your prying. “You don’t need to worry about me,” But you’re attentive, even in your indigence, and notice how his eyes are not focused on the explosion of scab across your torso, but on the scars that adorned the underside of your chest. “Or is there something else on your mind?”

Price- he truly does hope that you register his stifled grunt and the widening of his eyes as shock instead of horror. Your words catch him off guard, a bear trap that ensnares his tongue instead of his legs, and he is left thrashing in desperation for new words. “no, it’s not- its not that you’re transgender. I don’t care for that. Why didn’t you contact me? What made you think that I would despise you, just because you changed? Just because you were happier?” did you think I could ever hate you for that? “no, its not your fault kid. m’ mistake.”

Silence from the only person who’d dared to raise their words to match all his own, isolation from the man whose touch anchored you down to the ground of the earth and the heat of his skin- it’s smothering him still, a phantom weight that chained the both of you to the bones in your knees and the cuffs of your necks. (If love Is liberation, maybe you two could have been set free-)

[clangenrising]

Month 12 - Leafbare

Leafbare had become increasingly lonely for Yarrowshade. The loss of both Nightfrost and Scorchplume had taken a heavy toll on his social life. He still went hunting with Pantherhaze and Barleypaw but the energy wasn’t there.While Pantherhaze was sweet, and practically his brother, they didn’t have the same back and forth that he had with Scorchplume or Nightfrost and their absence had left a void in him that no one seemed to be able to fill.

Normally he would have gone to Goldenstar for help with that, but she had become increasingly busy managing Floodpaw’s training and keeping up the alliances with the other Clans. Now that Smokyrose had gone back to work, the two of them had started making frequent trips to the other Clans to discuss policy and next moves. Goldenstar had even told him she was planning on introducing them to the system of Soft Oaths and True Oaths she had developed. That seemed like a risky idea to him but she was determined and once she got an idea in her head, it was hard to get it out. 

And so Yarrowshade had thrown himself into teaching Barleypaw. She was coming along so well - practically taller than him already and an expert at bird catching. She was maturing too. After the battle, she’d been so ready to fight if it came to it even though she was terrified and he had been so proud of her. He’d also felt incredibly guilty though, him with his bruised ribs and wounded ego, for throwing himself into a fight he hadn’t had a chance of winning. What would have happened to her if he had died there? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach. 

He lay awake one morning, stewing over that thought. He had always been happy to focus on hunting instead of fighting, to let cats like Songdust and Russetfrond take charge in battle, but now… He realized that was a luxury he didn’t have anymore. He was tired of losing cats and being helpless to stop it but he did have the power to try and stop someone else from losing him. He rose from his nest, resolved to do something about it. 

The day was unseasonably warm and lightly cloudy. Goldenstar and Oddstripe were talking softly near the Stoneperch while Smokyrose tried to detach herself from her kittens at the mouth of the nursery. 

“I know, I know,” she said, “but I have to go, my dears.”

“Are you coming back?” Slatekit cried, her big golden eyes wide. 

“Yes, of course I will,” Smokyrose soothed, licking the kitten’s forehead and then prying her tail free from her clutches. 

“Hey! Hey, mom!” Fogkit said, seemingly having an entirely different conversation, “Guess what!”

“What, Fogkit?” Smokyrose sighed with a smile. 

Fogkit bounced up and down on her paws and asked, “If- If you hold your breath too long, will you die?” 

“No, sweetheart,” said Smokyrose, “You can’t hold your breath that long, your body won’t let you.” 

“Really?” Fogkit squeaked.

“Yes,” nodded Smokyrose, “now I really need to go, but I’m sure Ospreymask or someone can play with you.” 

“Okay,” Slatekit whispered. Fogkit was holding her breath but nodded excitedly. Yarrowshade shook his head. Kittens… How did they have so much energy?

Stepping away, Smokyrose joined Goldenstar and Oddstripe, saying, “Alright. Let’s get going.” 

“Wait up!” Yarrowshade said, realizing he needed to be quick. “Goldenstar, do you have a moment?” He bounded up to join the three of them. 

“Um,” Goldenstar glanced up at the sky and winced. “Maybe. What’s up?” 

“I was wondering if you had some time to help me with some training,” he said.

Her wince intensified. “I’m sorry, Yare, we’re expected in EarthClan.” 

Yarrowshade looked at Oddstripe and frowned. “Is Stormwhisper still missing?” 

“Yeah…” the healer frowned, big ears folding back. “And Fishtrick has whitecough.” 

“Damn,” Yarrowshade wilted. What kind of healer just went off and didn’t tell anybody? He wondered if perhaps Stormwhisper had died but pushed the thought away. Despite being EarthClan’s current healer, he had once been a formidable warrior. It was unlikely he had been killed by something, or at least Yarrowshade hoped so. 

“Besides,” Goldenstar said, “I’m talking with Orangestar about our next moves today. We’ve gotta find a way to stop the rogues from stealing our prey.” She was right. Even though no city cat had been caught over the border since the battle, they still ventured into Clan territory to snag prey and food was only getting scarcer. 

Yarrowshade sighed and nodded. “Alright. Good luck, Goldie.” 

“Thanks,” she purred, bumping her head against his. “Why don’t you ask Russetfrond for help? I’m sure he’ll be able to handle whatever training you need.” 

“Oh,” Yarrowshade swallowed tensely. “I don’t know-” But she was already walking away, Oddstripe and Smokyrose close behind. He sighed again. “Great.” 

Behind him, Fogkit suddenly gasped for breath and said, “She’s right! You can’t do it!” 

Yarrowshade ate breakfast and watched as Sparrowpaw came out to entertain the kits for a while. Barleypaw eventually joined him and the two began tossing the kittens as high as they could into the air, a game which involved a lot of squealing and shrieking. By the time Russetfrond came out of the warrior’s den, Yarrowshade had withdrawn deeply into his own mind. He frowned as he watched Russetfrond pick out a fish from the prey pile, contemplating whether or not he should even try asking for help. 

Russetfrond was a huge grump, the kind of cat who took everything far too seriously. When they were apprentices, Yarrowshade had enjoyed getting on his nerves and pushing the boundaries of his rule following, but as they’d grown up Russetfrond had only gotten angrier with him and it had stopped being fun and started being annoying. He was a strong believer in going with the flow and Russetfrond’s rigid adherence to law and order drove him up a tree. How did Goldenstar expect such a strict curmudgeon to teach him anything?!

Still… He watched Barleypaw playing with the kittens and thought again about what she would do if he died. Reluctantly, he stood and crossed the camp to where Russetfrond was eating. The deputy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey,” Yarrowshade said, then cleared his throat. “I was hoping to do some battle training today and Goldenstar said maybe you could help me.” His pride was writhing inside him but he kept his expression stoic. He couldn’t back out now.

Russetfrond grunted and said, “Sure, I can take Barleypaw out with the others today and-” 

“No,” interrupted Yarrowshade. “I meant me.” He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to muster the effort to continue. “I want to be a better fighter.” 

“You really should have thought about that while you were an apprentice,” Russetfrond said flippantly. 

“Come on, man,” Yarrowshade said, a growl edging into his voice. “We’re only gonna have more and more battles with these rogues. I want to be ready.” 

Russetfrond squinted at him for a long moment. “Say please.” 

“Ugh, are you serious?” Yarrowshade tossed his head back in frustration.

“Yes,” Russetfrond insisted. “If you want my help, you’ll ask properly.” His eyes narrowed, a challenge. Yarrowshade considered waiting for Goldenstar to get back instead but the idea of her being disappointed in him or pushing herself too far to add helping him onto her long list of responsibilities made his throat feel tight. 

Eventually, he sighed and said, “Russetfrond, will you please help me with my battle training?”

Russetfrond grunted and stood, twitching his tail to beckon Yarrowshade to follow him. “Alright. Come on.” Yarrowshade blinked in surprise. He had expected Russetfrond to nitpick his tone or say no anyways just to spite him. He wasn’t about to protest, though, and so he followed Russetfrond out into the fields to a sandy training ground near camp. 

“Alright,” Russetfrond said again, turning back to him, “Where did you want to start?” 

“Um,” Yarrowshade hadn’t considered it. “How not to get my tail handed to me by a pair of kittypets I guess?” 

Russetfrond scowled. “The first step is to stop underestimating your opponents. These kittypets aren’t pampered weaklings like we used to believe. Many of them are skilled fighters and if you keep pretending you’re above them they’ll beat you every time.” 

“Okay, fine,” Yarrowshade rolled his eyes. He didn’t care for the way Russetfrond was treating him like a little kit. 

“Pay attention!” Russetfrond said with a frustrated growl. “You asked me for help, okay? If you’re not gonna take this seriously you can leave.” 

“I am taking it seriously,” Yarrowshade groaned. “Don’t expect me to be all ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ okay? In case you forgot, I’m older than you.” He huffed a bitter laugh through his nose, tail twitching, and started tearing at the sparse grass with his paws. Why was Russetfrond like this?

“Then act like it already!” Russetfrond snapped. “You make everything into a joke! It’s infuriating.” 

“Okay, whatever,” Yarrowshade shook his head. “You just like feeling better than everyone ‘cause your mom was leader.” 

“I have a legacy to maintain,” Russetfrond growled, his own tail lashing, “just like Wildstar of old. I have to make my mother proud! You have no idea what that’s like!” 

Yarrowshade grit his teeth furiously. As a kitten, he had been found wandering through the territory, starving and confused as to why his mother had abandoned him out in the grass.

The Clan had taken him in, filled his belly, and treated his fever. They had given him a place to call his own and he had tried his hardest to make them proud, to make sure they never regretted their decision to welcome him in. For Russetfrond to insinuate that he didn’t have anyone to make proud filled him up with rage and indignation. 

“You badger-whelp!” he snarled. “I ought to shred your ears for that.” 

“Try it,” Russetfrond dared, arching his back into a battle stance. “You want some combat training? Let’s go.” Yarrowshade laughed. Russetfrond just bared his teeth. With a shock, Yarrowshade realized he was serious. 

“Alright,” he laughed again, rolling his shoulders and sinking into a stance of his own. “You asked for it.” The threat was all bravado - he knew he was outmatched - but the urge to get sent back to the healers’ den trying was too strong. Even though he had felt guilty about getting beaten by those kittypets, he had to admit there was something satisfying in the pain, something he deserved. 

Giving a yowl, he sprang, claws swiping for Russetfrond’s ears. Russetfrond, to his surprise, lunged up to meet him, crashing his skull up into Yarrowshade’s jaw which caused his teeth to snap down onto his tongue with a jarring ‘clack!’ He hissed, reeling back and spat blood onto the sand. 

“You fight like a hunter,” Russetfrond said, still in a battle crouch but not advancing. “You try to get a hit in before your target can notice but that doesn’t work with cats. You have to wear them down or wait for an opening, you can’t just win by being the first to make a hit.” 

Yarrowshade grit his teeth in pain and anger. Now Russetfrond was trying to teach him? He sprang again, this time going low to try and snap at his opponent’s neck. His teeth found purchase in Russetfrond’s thick ruff of fur. Pushing forward, he tried to topple Russetfrond onto his back, but the sturdy tom hunkered down and swatted him roughly in the eye. 

“Ow!” Yarrowshade cried out, falling backwards to nurse his wound. “Fox-dung, man, that’s not cool!” He groaned and cradled his paws against his eye. 

Russetfrond ignored him. “You’re still doing it. Don’t just rush in. Test my defenses for weaknesses first.” Yarrowshade took a deep slow breath to release the pain then slowly lowered his paws, blinking until he could see again. It seemed his eye would be alright, if a little irritated for a while. The moment of pause had already started to leech the anger out of him and, as he took another slow breath, he felt his temper coming back under his control. 

Fine, he thought, We’ll try it his way. He lowered himself into a more defensive crouch and started to prowl closer and Russetfrond shifted his posture to account for the change in tactic. Once Yarrowshade felt like he had closed enough distance, he darted in, one paw batting out, then hopped back. Russetfrond followed him with a few strikes which he dodged. He smiled. The tempo of the battle had changed significantly and he liked it. 

“Good,” Russetfrond said as they circled each other. “This part of the battle is like stalking the prey. If you forget to do this important step and just go charging in you’re going to lose your catch nine times out of ten.” 

“Right,” Yarrowshade said, suddenly understanding. He shifted his posture ever so slightly, keeping his body low to the ground and his limbs close to his body where it was harder to hit them. He was stalking his prey, metaphorically tasting the wind and accounting for the light. He lunged forward with another few swipes and two of them managed to hit Russetfrond in the head. Excitement rising, he pressed his advantage, rearing up to bring more weight down with each strike, but then Russetfrond lunged, tackling him to the ground. He writhed and scrambled and Russetfrond let him go. 

“Better, but you still need to have more patience,” Russetfrond said. 

Yarrowshade nodded. “Alright. How ‘bout this one?” He attacked again, leaping high into the air with the intent to land on Russetfrond’s head, and his opponent reared up to meet him. They met in a flurry of blows, claws sheathed, until Russetfrond hit him in the gut and he hopped back again to catch his breath.

“Not bad,” Russetfrond smirked, “but maybe don’t announce your attacks next time, yeah?” 

Yarrowshade laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, shaking out his pelt. “Let’s go again.”

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

The Funny Tall Man

Summary: Scar is just trying to take over a mushroom island, he did not agree to being a baby sitter. 

Warnings: Nothing really, this is Fluff and SFW, well unless you count Scar being an evil homewrekcer (literally, he burns homes) and Mother Spore being a mind controlling fae (who low key kidnaps people).

Notes: This is for @sporelings-au and @headless-witch  Tags: @riveraryy and @flooflepuff

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HEP found itself working hard most days, as the Mycelium was spreading. Scar sighed rubbing his neck and popping it, his ears drooping down. He picked up another paper and read it over sipping on some tea, the rich flavor was nice. Everything was grown locally, everything in his office was grown by him. Giving the place a very lush feel.

Vines hanged down from the ceiling, the air was crisp and clean, the inside made of a hallowed tree. It was the exact opposite of the mushroom villages with air that was thick with spores. The air was near unbreathable by his people, who seemed to have a clear disdain of the Mushroom Sporelings of Mother Spore. 

While Scar himself has no true interest in the island, he had to admit that their encroach onto his territory made him act. Sure the situation had been minor. But Scar wasn’t a push over, and wasn’t going to let the, rather beautiful, Mother Spore think she could just go outside her island. 

He gave pause thinking back to the dear Mother of Sporelings. Beautiful she was, but also wicked. Her mere touch wilted all his plants, his babies, making himself prick with discomfort. Top it off in the past she’s kidnap Woodland Fae of his, and... changed them into these near mindless beings with her spores. Making his insides twist at the thought of it.

Scar wasn’t a fool, while he flirted and teased the mushroom fae, he knew not to let her near him for too long. Not to accept anything from her. Tea was nice, even if they never reached an agreement.

Mother Spore was unwilling to release and give back his people, and Scar as a result would not stop burning houses until he made his point clear. Besides, they were making the air near unbreathable in places too close to his kingdom. 

Signing the paper and putting it out in the out tray neatly the door opened. He looks up as Bdubs comes into the room. “Scar!.” he said, “The garden section is experiencing some wilting.” 

A frown, “Wilting?” Scar echoed bemused, that was rare for his plants to wilt. But as he reached out through the roots he felt the wilting in the area seemed to be spreading. A grimace on his face as he rose and left the room. Heading briskly with his cane clacking on the ground to the garden section.

The Gardens were where he grew most of the food for the main city. Tall fruit trees, small bushes of berries, and vegetables abound in the fields. A place where he was certain Mother was envious of. Perhaps he should make a basket of fresh foods... maybe he could win over the Mother’s favor yet.  Bdubs wanted this was over fast, but Mumbo, his second, wanted a little bloodshed done as possible. Mumbo in fact was the spear head of many political meet ups. Even if they bore little fruit. 

He frowned as he saw one of the blackberry bushes was indeed wilted, as was the strawberry plants, and the blueberries with them. “How in the world?” Scar looked puzzled as he touched the wilted leaves bring them back to their green glow. 

Slowly the plants did heal as his magic poured into them. But Scar noticed one area wasn’t growing at all, as he paused and moved over to the leaves.

“Shhh! He’ll hear us!” “These berries are so good!” “I told you not to touch the bush Ren!”

Pushing them back a squeal was heard as Scar jumped back from a wooden sword to his face. “What in the world!?” Scar yelped as he looked from the sword to an angry red eye glaring at him. 

This one looked familiar, as Scar wracked his brain for info, he remembered seeing this little one with Mother. He looked past the very defiant, somewhat fearful, sporeling to see others huddled together in the bushes. One with ears had a mess of blackberry juice around his lips. 

“What are you doing here?” Scar inquired as he pushed the wooden sword away easily, much to the tall sporlings annoyance. 

“none of your business!” he said in a puffed up brave voice, but Scar easily caught the waver in it. 

“We wanted to meet you!” Another said with him, the little girl with the pink dress and fairy wings said with a bright smile. 

Scar gave a look crossing his arms, “And wilting my berry bushes is how you greet yourselves?” he asked in a firm voice.

Head hung down at that, they looked guilty. “We’re sorry.” the slim child said with a small voice. “They were just so good looking, we don’t have things like this at home.” he said black eyes looking up at Scar.

The slight anger did fade at that, as Scar grimaced to himself, then sighed heavily as he rubbed his face and eyes. “Alright, come out now, so I can heal the plants, and I'll pick you some more berries... just don’t touch anything.” he said to the small kids. Watching as they all clamored out, and the tallest one eyes him with distrust herding them to the middle of the garden. 

Scar shook his head, as he got back to work, healing away the damage done. Smiling softly as he could feel the life returning to the bushes. “Woah.”  A tiny head poked over his shoulder as she stared in awe at how the bushes came back to life. “You can grow plants mister!?” she asked looking at him with wide black eyes.

A nod as Scar started to pick some berries, “Yes, one of my many talents.” he chuckled a bit. “Everything here I grew myself.”

This did get the kids to look around in awe finally taking in how tall the trees were, “We don’t have anything like this at home!” squeaked out the slime boy.

“Unless you count Mother’s tall mushrooms.” the one with horns said with a smile. 

Scar’s smile fell a bit, right, these little guys hadn’t seen anything green save for when they are near his territory. It also seemed they inherited their Mother’s powers of wilting things. 

“I see, well, this is just the section I use to grow fruits, there are place I also grow vegetables, trees for sap, and flowers.” Scar listed off.

“FLOWERS!?” the little girl in pink said in excited, “Can I see!? Please!?” she asked yanking on his tail coat. 

A bit startled by her outburst, Scar stared down at her, then to the children who also looked curious. Well, almost all of them, the one eyed child looked annoyed. “I suppose so, first off though,” he looked at each of them, “Names?”

They each listed off their names, Etho, Stress, Ren, XB, Jevin, and Impulse. 

“Well, my name is Scar... and I guess I can show you the flower gardens, But don’t pick any of them, The flowers are very delicate.” Scar’s voice was firm as they all nodded, eager giggles and jumping up and down. 

Shaking his head and holding back a smile, he had them all hold hands as he lead them along. The flower gardens weren’t that far, and he had no dout they’d be also eager to eat the berries he picked too. Though... “Does your Mother know you guys are here?” Scar asked them with a curious look back at the group.

“Uh... No...?” Ren’s ears flicked down at that. 

“We wanted to see where you go to Funny Tall Man!” Impulse said to him with wide eyes. “We... didn’t expect it to take this long though.”

Alarm bells were in Scar’s head, “When did you guys leave the Mycelium territory?” he asked.

Looking at each other confused, it was Etho who spoke up, “When the sun was rising.”

Scar paled a bit; it was nearing the afternoon now! These children had been out of their Mother’s gaze for over 6 hours! Goodness its no wonder they were hungry and looked tired. 

“Oh dear...” Scar groaned, no doubt Mother Spore was worried sick for them. Look, he might be in a war with her, but he was against using children in a war. Pitching the bridge of his nose, Scar took a breath, he’ll pen a letter to the Goat Father and Mother Spore. This was not going to look well at all, but he also didn’t want to send these kids back to walking on their own! They were lucky they ever found his area and didn’t get lose in the Wildwoods Forest!

Scar’s thoughts were broken as he heard Stress gasp, “Flowers!” she squealed rushing over, Scar quickly stopped her from grabbing on. Shaking his head firmly as she blinked and looked sad but nodded. 

Quickly though, Stress bounced back, “What are these ones called?!” she asked excitedly looking at the pretty purples and pinks.

“Orchids, they are very delicate flowers and very picky flowers too.” Scar told her, “They don’t like to grow for just anything, the conditions have to be right.” he said. Setting up a blanket on the gorund and the basket of fruits for the kids. Which they all quickly moved to sit down as Scar also got some water from the spring nearby. 

It was burning up today, no doubt they were thirsty. He took a breath to keep from fretting, these were Mother’s children, if a hair was harmed on them it’d be his neck. He was looking for a fight, not death. 

Stress ran over to another that Jevin was looking at, “Frogs!” the slime boy said picking up a white frog that squirmed in his grip.

“Yes, I have quiet a few of them.” Scar said then turned, “Ren don’t lick a frog please.” he told the wolf looking sporeling.  Ren froze with his tongue out, and carefully let go of the green frog with a pout. 

“What are these flowers called mister tall man?” Impulse asked looking at the ones in the water that were white.

“Lilies, these ones grow on pads that the frogs can use to stand on.” Scar told them, “See that stem under them, it’s goes all the way down to the bottom of the pond and is rooted into it.” he explained.

He watched as their eyes seemed to be filled with wonder, Stress rushing form the pond over to XB near a large tree, “What’s these!?” she asked pointing to the waxy leave tree with pink and white flowers.

“Magnolias,” Scar told her, “They are ever greens, meaning they don’t shed their leaves in the fall like Mape or Oak tress, but rather shed them year-round, they also come in colors of pink and white.”

XB picked up one of the dead leaves on the ground feeling it’s waxy coating with curious eyes.

Taking his hand, Stress lead Scar over to Etho and these tall yellow flowers, “What are these flowers?” she asked.

“Black Eyed Susans, and the tall ones in the back are Sunflowers.” Scar went over to a small machine near the sunflowers and held out his hand. Out came some seeds that were toasted, “Here.” he handed the two some. “Sunflower seeds are edible.”

Etho looked wary, but did take some, and after seeing Stress try some, he ate a few too. “Their salty.. but crunchy.” he said looking at the rest.

Scar nodded, “They are a good snack, but make sure you drink water as they are rather salty.” he agreed, smiling warmly at Etho. 

“Mister Tall Man?” 

Scar turned, “yes?” he inquired curiously walking over. 

He looked to see Ren pointing to some plants, “These ones don’t have flowers.”

Walking over to Ren, Scar nodded, “Sometimes they do, but not right now. These are herbs. The purple flowered ones are Lavender, the large leave ones that are bumpy is Sage, the dark green ones here is Mint.”

Stress peered at them, “Well what are they used for?” she asked watching Scar pluck off a few leaves and flowers.

“A variety of things, potions, medicine, rituals, even just to make some cooking stuff taste better, or just your house to smell better.” Scar let her smell them even if the tip wilted, “Jellie loves Lavender.”

Giggling Stress sniffed again, “It smells so nice!” she looked very happy as Scar couldn’t help but smile.

They went around looking at whatever caught the kids eyes, Lily of the Valley, Roses, Zinnias, Cosmos. The vining plants of Moon Flowers, Purple Passions, Morning Glories, along with other herbs such as Dill, Thyme, and Rosemary. 

And wrangling them back to take a break and eat something as Scar penned a letter and sent the bird on it’s way to find Mother Spore. The kids were luckily well behaved enough, if Scar had to stop Ren from pouncing on his tail and biting it. they obeyed his rules of don’t touch unless he gives permission. Jevin had fun catching frogs and other creatures, he suppose it was good he couldn’t kill the animals. 

Scar answered any questions they had about plants, within reason, mostly they asked about flowers and herbs. Perhaps it did break his heart a bit that these children had never seen green grass, blue skies, or plants this abundant. Nor could they touch them. 

It made him wonder how anyone could be happy as a Sporeling. Mumbo spoke little of it, even if he still cared for them, it was clear he had no interest in going back. Scar couldn’t say he blamed him, who would want ugly purple grass and only fungus growing around!?

He watched as the children did curl up and started to fall asleep. Etho fought it off for a long time before he cuddled with Ren resting. Scar took a breath, and petted Impulse’s hair watching the sun turn to evening time, and waiting for news from Bdubs on when Mother would come to collect her children.

He can’t say it was a bad day, Scar adores it when people are interested in in awe of his amazing terraforming skills. Even if these children had technically escaped form home and broke into his base. Shaking his head, Scar waited silently.

This was going to be a long talk with Mother Spore, but he would assure her they were fed and well taken care of. And hope she didn’t try to kill his whole garden!

Little did Scar know Mother would be quiet calm about the situation, and might even be curious about flowers herself. 

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Notes: If you guys want a oneshot of Mother Spore’s reaction and conversation with Mayor Scar then let me know. Other wise take your fluff!

Scar and Grian are both evil idiots in this one, and both had good and bad reasons for wanting this war. 

Up to Witch if it wants this to be canon. 

Anywho cute sporelings whoo! (Sorry it was a little rushed at the end it’s 10pm here XD)

[whydon-twego]

Morgana probably hates him. Or she hates his own plants, he doesn't know which statement is more correct.

"Morgana, do you remember what happened to the cactus you gave me for my birthday?"

Morgana simply shrugs her shoulders.

"I trust that being my plants and with a promise to kill you if they are not all nice and alive when I get back, they will be in good hands."

"You really have no one else to ask?"

Morgana snorts at that point.

"The only person I can trust is Gwen and as you well know Gwen will be leaving with me. It's only two weeks, I trust you'll be able to keep my orchids from dying in such a short time."

Arthur is not at all convinced and, barely five days into Gwen and his sister's honeymoon, he hates himself for always being so damn right.

His sister is going to kill him. *** Gwen, sweet little Gwen who, despite being on her honeymoon, answers him immediately, passes him a YouTube channel about plants and nature in general.

Arthur, looking at the half-wilted orchid in the window, doesn't know if it will be enough, but he has to at least try. *** Merlin (that's the name the guy uses on his channel MerlinLikeTheWizard) has quite a following on YouTube and has a lot of videos, even a few minutes long, explaining how to solve tricky situations.

The orchid with some difficulty recovers, Morgana's roses no longer seem to be on the brink of extinction and Arthur owes his life to a stranger on the internet.

A stranger with sparkling blue eyes, a disarming smile and huge ears.

Arthur may have a small and insignificant crush on him. ***

The plants have returned to Morgana and Gwen's house safe and sound (Arthur hugged Gwen a little harder than necessary, thanking her for saving his life) and Arthur is thinking if perhaps, now that he has a little more practice with plants, he can fulfil his dream of having a little corner of paradise on his over-empty balcony. He has always liked flowers, his mother had always liked flowers, but Arthur has always had the ability to kill every poor plant that has crossed his doorstep.

Maybe now is the right time. ***

"Merlin!"

Arthur didn't want to shout it in the middle of the street, he didn't want to shout it in the face of the stranger who is now looking at him with an alarmed face because -God!- they don't know each other and Arthur looks like a bloody stalker. But when was he ever going to meet his celebrity crush by pure chance in the middle of the streets of London?

Merlin looks at him a little confused but raises a hand in greeting and Arthur takes courage and gets a little closer to him. What do you say to someone you obsessively follow for advice and because their laughter brightens your day?

"You have the biggest ears in the world"

Morgana is terribly right, he must have some kind of mental affliction, there is no other explanation.

Merlin wrinkles his eyebrows and opens his mouth to reply but Arthur stops him by talking over him.

"That wasn't what I meant at all. I- sorry, no, I just wanted to- Thank you for saving my life."

At that, Merlin raises his eyebrows and Arthur finds himself thinking about how expressive the human face can be without having to say anything.

"Yeah, I mean, that's..." Arthur covers his face with his hands for a moment and thinks about what a mess he's making "I swear I don't usually suck this bad at first impressions" Arthur sighs "I kept my sister's plants and you should know that I have the ability to make a cactus die within 48 hours, so I was desperate because my sister threatened me with death about her precious orchid and his wife sent me the link to your channel and, I mean, I'm still alive so thanks"

Merlin spends a few seconds staring at him and Arthur feels incredibly stupid, then Merlin bursts out laughing and Arthur thinks he has an even better laugh heard live.

And what else could Arthur say now? He's at a loss for words and his throat is suddenly dry and would it be too weird to ask for an autograph or a photo together? Is this something people do with YouTubers? He honestly doesn't even have the courage to ask.

Merlin is smiling now, looking at him, and Arthur is stumbling over what to say. God, this is humiliating. We'd better end this quickly.

"Well, yeah, that's it… so thank you."

He turns to put as much distance as possible between himself and that embarrassing figure he will never tell anyone about, but a voice stops him.

"I think you owe me a coffee."

Arthur turns towards that voice he has come to know behind a microphone but which has a much stronger accent in person. He turns and watches Merlin look at him.

"What?"

"I saved your life you said. The least you could do to repay me would be to buy me a coffee."

Arthur looks at him for a few seconds and can't believe his ears.

"Sure!" he says quickly, extending a hand "I'm Arthur by the way"

"Nice to meet you Arthur, I suppose you already know my name"

Arthur looks at him sceptically.

"You mean to tell me that your name is really Merlin? Really?"

Merlin smiles and turns to point at the first Costa they find on the road.

"Like the Wizard" *** Merlin watches Arthur talk about how he has succeeded in creating a small corner of the garden on his balcony, how his eyes light up genuinely happy that he has succeeded in something he thought impossible, observes how he gesticulates animatedly and how he responds in a decidedly snobbish manner when something doesn't suit him.

Merlin watches Arthur and there is something about him that makes him say without a second thought "I'll come and have a look at your garden and we could work on it together"

Merlin observes how Arthur looks at him gratefully and how the coffee they were to have together becomes lunch and how Arthur manages to respond to his sarcasm with more sarcasm.

Merlin will have to buy Gaius dinner for convincing him to open that YouTube channel, months and months ago.

[wyyvernn]

Imagine an ex assassin listener feeling worthless till Haytham starts lecturing them on how much he values their work and service

(also what are you using to make the audio?)

A/n: Heya anon, I used Wondershare Filmora but I'm trying to find a better program because the latest versions are just shit. Maybe I'll go back to Audacity.

Haytham has never been one to sugar-coat or sweeten his words with false lies. And he's certainly not going to start now when you, one of his best Templars have begun to doubt yourself. You're no longer an Assassin, you tell yourself, and you shouldn't be feeling like you're not good enough in the Order. The past is the past, but the leery eyes of others have started to eat at you.

'Assassin', they whisper, the older Templars usually.

You can't take it anymore and you decide to tell Haytham about it.

It creates a feeling of unease with the way he stares, two sharp eyes of unrelenting intensity drilling into your skull as you pour out your worries to him.

He stops you when he notices your struggle in producing a full sentence, your words beginning to come out all stammered and incomplete, and you dread how much you sound like an utter fool.

"That's enough of your self-deprecation. Your services has been of great value to the Order, and to me." He says, and the way he says it sounds harsh like a lecture but you understand that Haytham always tells things how they are.

"I just," You start again, your fingers fiddling nervously as you try to maintain eye contact. "I feel like if I was doing more to prove to the others-"

A swift reply cuts you off, his hand raising to stop you.

"You are doing more than enough."

It's the way he asserts his statement, like it's a fact, like he would leave no more room left for your protests - and he doesn't.

Your head hangs between your shoulders, like a wilted rose or a dejected lover, your mind still swimming in doubt but even less so than before. When he pats your shoulder, you offer him your attention.

"If you truly feel as though your efforts aren't meeting up to the standard, you can at least cease your whining. I require your assistance shortly soon. Perhaps you can prove yourself even further then."

You sprout with relief, grateful that you have a mentor as abundant in sense and reason as him.

[hollowwrites]

An Unbeleafable day

Ominis x MC

Summary - Ominis' day goes from bad to worse after realising his worst subjects are occupied by a certain new fifth year

Warnings - Mentions of Ominis past and Evelyns past (Her mother has passed) other than that just another PINEFEST!

Word Count - 4039

~

Are you being serious?

Herbology…followed directly by Potions.

This had to be some sort of sick joke.

Ominis groaned, pushing the tip of his wand into the parchment his schedule was written on, harder than needed, hoping somehow his wand had misinterpreted it…or that he could change it with sheer will.

“It won’t be that bad” Sebastian offered pulling his robe off haphazardly upon entering the thick humid environment of the Greenhouses.

Sebastians’ interest in Herbology and Potions directly correlated with Annes’ curse. The fairer Sallow was always the one interested in Potions…and the red headed trouble maker that came along with it. But since her absence, Sebastian took over, both to make notes for her and to see if perhaps there was something he’d overlooked in search for a cure.

So far nothing but Shrivel-figs had peaked his interested.

Ominis on the other hand, hated both.

No one but Sebastian seemed to understand these subjects were difficult for those not gifted with sight. How was he expected to know if the leaves of a Venomous Tentacula were wilting if he couldn’t see them? And feeling them was out of the question. He refused to lose yet another sense because his fingers were bitten off by a plant.

Last year, the cursed subjects occupied two separate days so at least his torment was spread thin. But maybe this way he could get both out of the way for the week? Who knows. All he did know was the heady smell of soil and thick atmosphere immediately gave him a headache, and a deep frown set upon his features.

“It will be exactly as bad as I am imagining it” Ominis grumbled leaning against Sebastians’ station as they chatted idly waiting for the Professor to start the class.

Professor Garlick was busy fussing around the room before class, speaking with the various students whose aptitude for the subject was clear. Ominis could hear her talking across the room to a group of students, giddily chirping about extra credit and the different types of flora available to them in their later school years. He surmised that the Professor was showing off these plants because the sudden overwhelming stench of onion hit his nostrils.

“What’s that smell? Is she growing Pungous Onion again?” He complained yet again as the strong odour made his head throb and his stomach churn. Too many noises and too many smells overwhelmed him. He felt a thin sheen of sweat across the back of his neck and he too threw his robes across the station. He heard Sebastian chuckle causing his frown to deepen further.

"It's really not that bad, Ominis." He chuckled and took the schedule from Ominis’ fist "Then again, if this means I have to listen to you whine the whole day, it will be rather awful."

“I whine everyday…I thought you’d be used to it by now” Ominis smirked…

Then…the air in the greenhouse suddenly cleared. And all Ominis could smell was Roses.

He thought perhaps this added note in the orchestra of goings on would tip him over the edge…but he found it…grounding. Sweet and Subtle. Floral and soft.

This same Rose was the one he thought he could smell in the Common Room on their first day back. The Rose that hung around the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and brushed past him in the corridors.

And the same Rose that followed him around Hogsmeade. The very same floral scent that clung somewhat to his robes where she held his arm. When he was there with Evelyn

She was his rose.

No!

The Rose. Not his.

Ominis shook his head clearing his mind of the trajectory his mind had spiralled. And so quickly at that. He felt his face flush and he prayed either Sebastian wouldn’t notice or he’d chalk it up to the humidity in the room.

Though what Ominis hadn’t noticed was the wistful way in which he sought her out. His eyes seemingly trying to seek her without his knowledge or the ability. A soft almost dreamlike smile settled on his upturned lips

“I thought you said today was going to be awful?” Sebastian said smugly from behind Ominis. “How about you take my station today? I’m feeling a little exposed out here in the open…” he teased taking a few steps back and occupying the space Ominis usually sulked in.

“Why have yo-“ Ominis started before being interrupted by the irritatingly shrill voice of Professor Garlick.

“Class, please welcome the newest Rose in our garden, Evelyn Hollow”

Ha, if only you knew.

Ominis couldn’t stop the singular breathy laugh that left him as he exhaled.

“We do look forward to growing together” Garlick chirped and gestured forward for Evelyn to take up the free station…next to Ominis.

“Hello again, stranger” Evelyn said in a hushed tone somewhere below Ominis, not to disturb the little pun filled speech the Professor had started.

“Ah, if it isn’t the Hero of Hogsmeade” Ominis smirked, lifting his wand from the table to see her, the best he could.

Why do I want to see her?

“You know…” he continued desperate to not linger on his thoughts for too long “…there is such a thing as trying too hard”

“It’s not my fault I’m naturally talented at dispatching trolls” she teased right back, and stayed within inches of him, peaking out past his arm towards the Professor.

“Now, then. Today we will be acquainting ourselves with the mellifluous tuber known as the Mandrake Root”

Oh Wonderful…

Ominis must have stiffened quite visibly because Evelyn reached her hand around his arm and squeezed. He peered down at her and smiled lopsidedly.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered as Garlick continued to explain the lesson plan.

“Nothing…” he started before turning away to peer towards the pot that had plonked itself in front of them. He could hear the muffled cooing of the mandrake happy within its soil, and the angry irritated squirming of the one in front of Evelyn. “They scream bloody murder when they’re out of the soil” he explained “…can kill you if they’re old enough. Or worse, deafen you”

Looking into his pale, almost grey eyes she understood his sudden fear. Not being able to see must be one thing but suddenly losing your hearing must be another.

“…First, let’s protect our ears” Garlick continued. Evelyn watched as everyone pushed the small wad of cotton into their ears. Ominis too, though he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Without really thinking, she reached out for his hand and squeezed before he placed the second cotton ball in his ear.

“I’m here…” she smiled. Though he couldn’t see it, her heard it in the way her voice softened. He squeezed her hand back…it was, again, oddly grounding.

“Thank you”

When Evelyn pulled her bulbous mandrake from its pot she instantly released his hand and clutched her ear.

Bloody hell, he wasn’t wrong.

She quickly threw it into the larger pot provided. Though it was bigger than its original pot, it still didn’t seem like it would have much room to grow. It was huge in comparison to the others, she noted as she looked around, absentmindedly patting the soil over the top of her plant baby.

Only a single mandrake remained screaming and it came directly from her right.

She looked over at Ominis, his face twisted into anger and disgust. He couldn’t help but snarl, his wand between his teeth and head tilted so it was pointed towards the mandrake. He struggled to hold the wriggling and screaming Root whilst his other hand patted and fumbled for the new pot.

Evelyn pushed it towards his hand, looping her fingers around his wrist and helping him guide the crying creature into its new home.

The moment it’s ‘feet’ touched the soil it ceased its whining and crying and began humming in their hands, content.

“Thank you” Ominis murmured, barely hearing himself over the cotton…and ringing in his ears.

“My pleasure. Anything to stop that god awful sound” she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“I’m sorry.” He said through his teeth, his wand still firmly between his lips. He spat it out and held it as normal, vaguely pointing it in her direction “Usually I’m quite dexterous on my own, all things considered…” he chuckled “…but with no eyesight, no hearing, my wand not exactly in its correct positioning and both hands full-“

“You don’t need to explain.” She said irritatingly “Seems rather unfair to make you do these sorts of tasks”

“Well…I don’t want special treatment…But…” he smirked “I should think Professor Garlick would be more careful with her mandrakes. Yours was positively itching to get out of that pot”

“It was rather large wasn’t it?” Evelyn said in disbelief. The new student and the blind student given earmuffs and the largest mandrake? Just doesn’t seem very well thought out.

“I’m very sorry about that” Professor Garlick suddenly appeared between the two “Yours was a bit mature, I’m afraid.”

“A bit mature? I nearly went deaf” Evelyn muttered

Huh, this rose has thorns.

“Well, yes of course, the cry of a mature mandragora can be fatal. So remember to keep those ears protected” she chirped as though she had revealed an interesting little tidbit about a regular muggle plant. She trilled softly and turned to the rest of the class

“Now, for our next task, we’ll be planting Dittany at our potting tables” she skipped off around to the other side of the room leaving Evelyn staring in disbelief “I trust you all remember how from last year”

Evelyn’s jaw dropped then clenched in annoyance. She didn’t even know she was a witch last year. She didn’t even know witches existed last year.

“I’ll help you…” Ominis said reassuringly upon feeling the sudden wave of irritation next to him “…Or well, more accurately, we’ll help each other” Ominis smiled at the potting station but the tilt of his head indicated it was directed at her.

“Thank you…this lesson is a bit ridiculous” Evelyn huffed and he laughed. The beginning of the lesson he had the exact same attitude, now he found himself defending it. What changed?

“Professor Garlick can be a little…laissez-faire. She means well but…yes she’s very enthusiastic” he chuckled “Anyway, it’s simple enough. Dittany requires a small pot and the seed to be planted an inch into dry soil.”

“You know your stuff it seems”

“In theory…not very practical I’m afraid. Which is where you come in.” He said with a smarmy grin on his face.

“Ah…you’re using me for my eyes. I see…no pun intended”

“You do see…” he smirked “My problem is I can’t tell if I’m planting more than an inch in…” he peered into the pot as though he could see it, sticking his long finger into the dry soil.

“No no, too far” she giggled watching him pull his finger out and wiping the dirt from his finger with disgust.

Her eyes travelled over his long nimble fingers as he felt the consistency and dampness of the soil between them. Her gaze was drawn up his forearm by the flexing of the tendons in his wrist and the faint blue veins along his pale skin. A small constellation of moles peaked out from the rolls of his sleeve, along side the beginnings of what appeared to be a nasty looking scar. She forcibly peeled her eyes away.

Just because he’s blind doesn’t mean you can stare

“Here…” she forced out, blinking away thoughts of him. She took his hand, flattening out his fingers and traced from his fingertip down to the first joint of his finger “…That’s roughly an inch. There.” She tapped the inch mark a few times and looked up at him.

The sickly look on his features made her drop his hand immediately. He look strangled, almost in pain.

“Sorry…I forgot you don’t like people being near you. I should’ve asked I’m-“

“No no! You…you’re- I. I mean you…” he sighed angrily through his nose “I don’t mind…you touching me” he said pointedly. His words were soft but his tone suggested otherwise.

In actual fact, Ominis was just furious with himself.

Why can’t I get a word out?

Why is it I’m quick witted and silver tongued when it doesn’t matter?

Why do I care?

Evelyn simply retreated within herself. Maybe staring was better. Maybe living alone, a simple muggle life, was better than this twisting knot of uncertainty.

It did feel nice to feel like a teenager again though.

After her mother’s passing, Evelyn spent a year of her life alone. A fourteen year old forced to grow up beyond her years. So this petty little feeling of giddiness was welcome.

She looked back up at him and his stoic features. They’d softened exponentially, in fact he was smiling, feeling along his finger to the same point she had with his thumb.

As she opened her mouth to speak, to apologise, to fill the silence with…something, a shrill voice called out to her.

“Ah Evelyn…” Professor Garlick chirped and waved her hand for Evelyn to approach the front of the classroom. A tall scarlet haired boy stood sheepishly next to her, a shy smile on his face.

Evelyn looked back at Ominis, a faraway dazed look accompanied the soft smile still present on his face. He’s clearly focused, she thought deciding to give him the space that she had selfishly taken from him and walked to the front.

“Well Done!” Professor Garlick clapped happily as Evelyn approached. “Once it can be harvested, your Dittany will be ready to use in Wiggenweld Potion. I’ll let Professor Sharp tell you about that. Your next class is Potions, is it not?” Her eyes bulged as though she’d made some grave error in judgement.

“Er…Yes Professor”

“Ah good. And you Mr Prewett? Can I trust you to show our new Rose how well Herbology and Potions go together?”

“Actually, I don’t have Potions next.” The Red head replied, his weary smile faltering under the Professors glare.

“Oh…” Garlick looks confusedly towards Leander “Then why did you- never mind!… What say we branch out? Introduce you to a different sort of flora - The Chinese Chomping Cabbage. You’ll find that some plants are better suited to uses outside of a cauldron”

“Like de-gnoming! Mum planted some in her garden last year to keep the gnomes out. They left her Honking Daffodils in tatters” he blurted out towards Evelyn, who smiled politely back.

This was quickly becoming her least favourite subject.

It was manic…and so were the students. And the Professor…

“Yes quite! They’re in the other greenhouse. It’s just at the end of the footbridge leading out of this room. Be a dear and give them a good chomping!” Garlick nodded towards the Gryffindor who grinned back.

Glad someone knows what’s going on.

“Your classmate, Mr Prewett, has kindly offered to accompany you”

And with that, the Professor nodded as though she’d successfully remembered a script, before bouncing away.

“Hello…” The cheerful Gryffindor spoke up “Saw you on your way to Hogsmeade the other day. Nice to meet you, I’m Leander” he extended his hand eagerly.

“Evelyn. Hollow” she continued after a beat taking his hand and giving one firm shake.

“I know…” he said enthusiastically “…I’ll be showing you the Cabbages just up here-“

“Oh mind your fingers!” Professor Garlick yelled across the classroom as they took their first steps up “…they do bite!”

The entire class turned to look in their direction, including a certain opal eyed boy who had previously been too transfixed with his work to notice her leaving. The way he gazed in her direction now made her stomach drop and then she felt a clammy hand wrap around her wrist.

“Just up here…” Leander repeated, tugging on her arm.

And that was the first time Ominis made eye contact with her. His eyes were focused solely on her, gaze turning cold and eyelids slammed low over his almost transparent irises. His jaw worked and clenched over and over…

Then Leander pulled her away.

After she blinked away the harsh images of Ominis from her mind, her attention was drew back to Prewett, and the way his clammy hand wrapped around her forearm.

It felt…wrong. Tingly. In the worst way. Like she was aware of every divot and wrinkle on his hand.

When she shook him off, she felt her face harden and she wondered if she looked anywhere near as intimidating Ominis.

By the bob of Leanders throat, she guessed she did, snatching his hand away almost as quickly as he’d grabbed her in the first place.

“Er…Nice work in Defence Against the Dark Arts by the way” he tripped and stumbled over his words a little, trying to fill the silence much like she had.

“Excuse me?” She sighed, traces of her irritation still evident in her tone.

“Your duel with Sebastian!” Leander exclaimed excitedly “…and he’s good…thinks he’s really good, but you outright slaughtered him. It was brilliant” he sounded almost in awe, but Evelyn couldn’t place who he was in awe of. His dream like tone suggested Sebastian but he gleefully grinned suggesting she had ‘slaughtered’ him.

It was an exaggeration to be sure. Sebastian gave as good as he got, and she was relatively certain he had held back.

She recoiled slightly. Thinking about every hit of Sebastian’s basic cast she took to her chest made her stomach churn. The unpleasant feeling of her lungs being forcibly emptied rose back to the forefront of her mind.

Her chest clenched at the thought of being on the receiving end of Sebastian wand, when he was unrestricted and…angry.

“Oh well…Thank you” Evelyn muttered not really knowing what else to say.

“I nearly put Sebastian in his place myself…I mean I would’ve…if Hecat hadn’t stopped me”

“Didn’t she stop that dragon skull from crushing you?” Evelyn said, turning slightly towards him with cold unwavering confusion. She knew exactly what had happened…Sebastian was, in no way shape or form, in the process of being ‘put in his place’.

“Pfft typical Slytherin trick dropping a dragon skull on someone during a fight. We Gryffindors fight with honour” Leander kicked at a rock, staring a hole through the floor until he looked up.

And was met with the unimpressed glare of Evelyn…

Now she didn’t know much about this world…

But what she did know is that the two people to assist her so far…were both Slytherin. Whether that was because they were in the same house, she would never know. But it didn’t matter.

Ominis had defended her in Hogsmeade, shown her around the school and been nothing but friendly despite what everyone around her seemed to say about him.

Sebastian earned himself another detention covering for her. A detention he’d only gotten from smuggling her into the Restricted Section in the first place.

Thank Merlin she had met Natty or Prewett would’ve been her only reference for Gryffindor.

Arrogant and Boastful.

“Uh…no offence Sorry” he backpedaled, raising his arms in quick surrender.

Gryffindors are meant to be brave huh?

“And here I was thinking you’d deflected that spell quite brilliantly…”

“Oh yes…well I had” Leander boasted, puffing out his chest.

“So you made that skull fall on yourself then…” Evelyn stated flatly, leaving no room for arguments. She’d backed him into a mental corner, one that she could see the red head struggling to escape from. A twisted little smirk pulled at her lips…

Maybe this is why I’m a Slytherin…

“Errrr…” Leander muttered eyes darting around like he was looking for a physical exit out of the conversation.

“Come on…” Evelyn turned on her heel, satisfied that she’d made him squirm enough for his comments against her house. “…let’s get this over with”

~

They felt…almost numb.

Ominis ran his thumb along the finger Evelyn had demonstrated an inch on. He could still…feel her.

Her fingers met his and unlike every other time she had touched him, walking around Hogsmeade, brushing against him in the corridor…he didn’t flinch.

Not that she would ever notice. They were minute little twitches built in from years of watching where he was going and his family avoiding him like he was some sort of plague. Or that somehow his morals and blindness were infectious.

The chatter of the room fell on deaf ears, all he could hear was the muffled rush of blood and his heartbeat hammering in his ears.

Why did she affect him in such a way?

His fingertips were almost pulsing where she had been and now with her absense, it was all he had to remind him that it had actually happened.

He clung to the sensation as it slowly faded and he felt a presence approach him.

“Well…things seem to be cultivating quite nicely over here” Sebastian smug tone rang behind him, washing away the last few memories of her touch from his mind.

It was only then did he realise she had gone. He fumbled for his wand, scanning broadly across the room but he couldn’t pinpoint her. Too many people stood in huddled groups, the loud chatter in the room returning to him. So he couldn’t even hear her.

He silently cursed himself for letting her go so easily.

“What does that mean?” Ominis snapped, his anger directed at himself not Sebastian.

“You two” Sebastian said, leaning against the counter where Evelyn had stood “You seem…close”

Sebastian reached out to grab his finger, his hand still outstretched, frozen. He tugged it, chuckling to himself.

So he’d seen that. Great…

“Yes she is quite affectionate. Touchy almost…”

“Ah…how unfortunate for you” Sebastian said flatly, almost sarcastically, as he watched Ominis shrug. He rubbed his fingers together where she had touched him again, without really thinking.

“I don’t mind it…” a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Of course you don’t”

“Well now what does that mean, Sebastian? Out with it” It seemed as though everytime Ominis had a pleasant expression upon his face, Sebastian saw to it that he replace it with something else. Anger, annoyance…just something that made him frown. Though it was all in jest, Ominis was just thankful Sebastian’s mind was geared towards something else for a change…and not his less than ideal home life.

Something about the last few weeks had perked Sebastian right up. Over the summer, Sebastian had spiralled. Seeing Anne daily and dealing with Solomon…it had gotten too much. He’d retreated into himself massively and Ominis was beginning to worry he’d do something stupid.

“You like her…” Sebastian said matter of factly.

“Of course I like her. She’s lovely as I’ve said before. She’s a wonderful breath of fresh air compared to you” Ominis smirked, relieved their playful banter had returned.

“No…” Sebastian chuckled “…I mean you like her. You fancy her…” He cleared his throat and what left his lips next sounded pompous and haughty “You wish to court her…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian”

Ominis was then almost deafened by the grating voice of Professor Garlick.

“Oh mind your fingers!” She shrieked across the classroom “…they do bite!”

“Oh really?” Sebastian continued, turning Ominis in the direction of the staircase at the front of the class. “Okay good because Prewett seems quite determined to prune our new Rose for himself”

Ominis knew he was trying to bait him. And he hated that it worked. He felt himself stiffen and he aggressively shoved his wand towards the front.

No wonder he couldn’t find her. It looked nothing like her.

The vague shape of Evelyn wasn’t its usual open and inviting stance like with Sebastian and himself. Normally, she leaned slightly into them, so close Ominis could feel her warmth sometimes.

From what he could ‘see’ now…her shoulder were set, arms crossed, head held high. She was speaking to Leander, so she would need to crane her head up to but…the way she held herself almost made it look as though she was annoyed.

What had he said? What had he done?

“He really is a sly git” Sebastian interrupted Ominis’ investigation.

“What’s he doing?! I can’t tell…” Ominis muttered through his teeth.

“Looks like he’s dragging her away…” Sebastian heard Ominis’ teeth grind against each other and he turned towards his friend

“Don’t worry…she can look after herself”

Masterlist

[ladythornofrivia]

song bird

Pair: Reiner x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Reiner being a flirtatious bad boy—popular with the ladies—cute fluff. Flirting. Flirtation at Reiner’s part. Fluff at first, angst and smut come later. Spice is nice. Mentions of serious topics and more. And serious flashbacks from season 1 in Reiner’s POV. MDNI, NSFW.

A/N: Other than Levi, my other favorite character is Reiner. He kinda grew on me since season 4 of Attack on Titan, and I’m not going to lie, he’s gotten hotter. So does Eren with long hair. But overall, every anime character is hot—Like Toji and Gojo. That’s all I’ve got to say on that. I just realized I got sidetrack. Aside from Levi and Eren, Reiner got hot. Really hot, and has great character development. Please enjoy this fanfic. :) I’m sorry that it’s long. Reader’s singing is inspired from me listening to Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. For Reiner fans, this one’s for you.

(Please report if anyone decides to steal/plagiarize my work and notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter One

Angel in the Gardens

Next Chapter

In the year of 854, things haven’t changed anything in Marley except Reiner. Although the change in Marley is a little more advance than the last time he resided before the mission. In his younger years, he was assure of himself, life is impossible with the life of prosperity with his family and relatives, and with his Armored Titan powers, anything is possible that could be reach, even his dreams beyond.

But now, with the retaliation and Eren’s endless cycle of hatred in his heart, Reiner wouldn’t and couldn’t blame him. As he came back, the rose-tainted windows shattered, and its colors wilted to stale and darkened. Everything he dreamt of, of being a hero, was his fault.

His mission with Zeke was no challenge; he has done this—entirely trained this since he was a young boy, born with an Eldian mother and a Marleyan father. Most of his childhood has brought up by his mother, his father was absent, even when encountering his father, he felt a struck of shame clutching and became a heavy heart. Reiner up skill his knowledge and agility in the military. He could recall the rain—drenched and heavy, carrying a loaded weapon in his arms as he ran to keep up the running course.

Realizing he has no childhood to conjure, only the days of the preparation for the upcoming years to hold his reputation. His days on being the candidate to inherit Armored Titan sounded like a victory. All the gatherers and onlookers at the parade, showering the Warriors with celebration. Reiner waved before the crowd, unknowingly what lies ahead. Everything was simple for him. Except now, it felt like a feverish dream, a good one, perhaps, but—maybe it wasn’t so. As soon as he got older, his young mind refined into a conclusion that inheriting a Titan power was nothing but an extreme burden.

For years he fought, he felt pain at first, but he has become immune, so immune he hasn’t realized he has two personalities—as a role of a soldier and a warrior.

What has become of Reiner, if not besides as a potential and a born-product for Marley’s representation of strength?

Was he even born to be as himself in the first place?

He had a moment, whether it’s up for him to still continue. Until now, he’s still breathing with a coursing veins with a thirteen-year curse.

What then if he hadn’t survived from Paradis? Power of Armored Titan will, no doubt, pass onto someone else has greater potential than Reiner. Yet, somehow, he’s still here, alive, in the flesh, not as a pure ghost. Though he maybe because his lively soul went numb.

Zeke has done it’s final job on the mission at Fort Slava, and led them to go home happily, reuniting with his family. He hasn’t said much to his mother other than a simple greeting. And when his relatives came and chat, when his uncle asked him regarding to Paradis, Reiner could describe anything but negative—the negativity lacks, but kept uttering. Some were shocked at Reiner’s statement of the potato girl. Each day has begun a turmoil in his mind. In sleepless nights, he tried to drown out the sounds of screams and cries and treachery. Each time he closes his eyes, white flashes overtaken, his memories of the greatest fighters and soldiers in Paradis—the Ackermans.

Then Eren’s toothy smile went into scorching rage.

He’d never forget the look on Eren’s face when Reiner unveiled his injured and regenerated.

The twist of nightmares felt real. Maybe because they are. Reiner couldn’t handle nightmares. People who thought of nightmares as useless dreams have a heart of steel. He hasn’t told a soul since he returned.

His mind snapped. And his heart thumped.

There’s one thing Reiner wouldn’t erase.

You.

He remembered you. He could still hear the sound of your voice calling to him, singing to him, lull him to sleep each time he came by and conversed with you. With rising daylight and glowing moonlight, he yearned to stay by your side forever.

Did he have to leave you for good? He couldn’t bear a hurtful look on your face, and the battle between Paradis and Marley couldn’t contain countless emotions running through him. Reiner was a coward, not knowing what to say to you. Or perhaps he’s afraid because he knows what your reaction and words are going to be. He soon to be longing for your touch, your voice. Your voice resonated him, as if he’s lost into a trance, lost his goal and objective and drowned into your arms and a song adorned upon your smiling face.

Then he tried to hum the tune, but couldn’t replicate it; he wasn’t a good singer. Hearing your laughter after him attempting to tune your voice, he find himself laughing soon after.

Realizing you’re not here, Reiner’s tear drops fell.

He wished to see you again. But how will he? If he attempts to be a deserter, it’s a final sentence for him.

He wouldn’t care.

Deep down, he’d rather stay with you, run away with you, from Eldians and Marleyans and live in another deserted island to start anew. No more playing soldier or a servant to his homeland.

His tears drowned in pillow sheets as his somber eyes replaced his vision with darkness and listless dreams.

Anything would be better than life’s silence in Marley.

~~~

~Year 850~

Fierce concentration due to training has been difficult for a young Warrior. Reiner, along with his companions, Bertholdt and Annie, came into Paradis for one thing. The Founding Titan. With the possession of the Founding Titan, it could end the lives of their enemies in Paradis for good. War hasn’t been kind to them since the day they took their first breath as their sworn oath. They took the mission without question; they—three Warriors—must contribute to their land, Marley.

For the greater good, they all said.

And hoped—prayed, even.

Reiner had countless doubts in his mind, despite his chosen status as a Warrior. Until Bertholdt told him that there are other things need to be occupied. Their infiltration was a success on their part, but seeing thousands—possibly hundred thousands of civilians in Paradis were at their swift end. Many mourned and fought. Others, fought against their livelihood, whether they want to fight or struggle.

He could hear their screams—their agonies, hate and cries every night since the first time he and his friends came. Everything was in shambles, and the crowd grew wilder with food supplies and good shelter during difficult hours. Adults starved themselves to feed their children with good consumable bread, sometimes with a bit of cheese and dairy to drain while others kept the food and space to themselves—all cramped with melancholic and upsetting atmosphere. Shortcomings went by when the meat supplies are strictly limited, and the law abide the rule to eliminate several folks after their failed years of attempting to crop and grow rations in the stubborn and dry field. Whether rain or shine, nothing prevail. They all kept trying until they found themselves exhausted and drowning in further to despair and anger.

This wasn’t the life people wanted. They wanted a lifelong prosperity and their properties to be in order. Even if it means to be locked away in a 60 meter wall from Titans.

Marley’s guidance to the future Warriors must be advanced and clever if it means for the predecessors to amplify the example of becoming a greater threat that contributes to annihilate the history’s nightmares. A spark of evolution, an ignited ideals and source of persuasion of the Marley lands to set the world rock to the core.

Paradis, on the other hand, hadn’t set the world alight. Paradis was as quiet as a tomb—untouched.

Once.

It was once pristine and silent, surrounded by trees and animals and mountains and quiet lakes.

A newly world from theirs—Reiner’s, Annie’s and Bertholdt’s.

A newly world to which they must merge as one of them.

~~~

Wearing a uniform and staying motionless under a torrid weather was a torture.

Commander Shadis kept an eye to the new coming trainees—104th Training Corps. With wide eyes fatigued and a bald head is enough to scare others. Not Reiner, though. Gladly, he doesn’t need to do the introductions. So does Annie and Bertholdt. The grim look in their eyes says it all.

The only Reiner is amused of is when the girl was eating a hot potato in her hand. Though at the end of the day, she was punished to run for hours until evening. Supper between trainees was another thing Reiner had to attend like the rest. Though his attention wasn’t on him; but his heart pounded when a boy with teal eyes and brown hair mentioned of the Titans that attacked and destroyed Shiganshina. A boy named Eren Yeager described their appearances. It was vague, but, Reiner knew what Eren meant. Maintaining his reaction, Reiner kept sipping his drink in stilled and calm pace, watching everyone being so oddly fascinated with Eren’s story until the rivalry with another boy, decided to jump in and argue. They somewhat reminded Reiner of his chaotic niece, Gabi, along with her friends, Falco and Udo and Zofia.

Like Gabi, Jean and Eren are a bunch of rowdy brats, fighting for power, and their perspectives are vastly opposites. One wants to be in a Military Police Brigade and the other wants to face the Titans alone, as if Eren’s destined to destroy every last one of the gigantic creatures.

As soon as Reiner finished his drink, he went up for a goodnight’s sleep. A soft yelp came below him. His golden eyes looked down and saw a young girl collapsed on the floor.

Abashed, Reiner held his hand outward as his height crouched down to the girl’s level.

“Sorry, little lady,” Reiner said with a smirk. “I didn’t watch where I’m going, but I didn’t mean to hurt a pretty lady like yourself.” He sent a wink at her direction.

“Th-that’s no problem,” she said, blushing, unable to return the gaze. She got up and went beside her friends, who are giggling at Reiner’s charm. One friend slapped her hand at the blushing girl’s back shoulder.

He smirked as he watched them afar until completely out of sight with a fold on his arms. Until a heavy hand fell onto Reiner’s shoulder blade.

“Remember what we came here for,” Bertholdt reminded, then moved past Reiner.

Annie hasn’t looked at Reiner’s direction, focusing in her own world.

And that Reiner’s mind recollected regarding to the real reason and obtained a lifelong achievement to an acknowledgement not only for himself but the safety of his family.

Marley.

In the land of Marley, Reiner must always remember two things: knowing one’s place, and the line of betrayal and trust must never to be cross.

~~~

Eren had the most difficult time with the gear strapped to his trousers. Shadis kept yelling at him, while the trainees snickered at his attempts to pass the test. He fell down clumsily again. Stuck like glue. Reiner, on the other hand, thought he has given enough lesson for Eren to pass with flying colors. Needless to say, today wasn’t going well in his favor.

He shouldn’t worried about Eren’s intentions, right? If he fails, he wouldn’t have an insignificance of him discovering their secret. Seeing Eren’s determination and fury against the Titans would mean one thing—revenge against who’s the main responsibility of Shiganshina’s Fall. A dead end. Reiner’s ability to shift had him on edge. Bertholdt noticed this, but said nothing; comforting and reminding Reiner in public, or even an air of whisper will cause suspicion from the outsiders of Marley.

“Wagner, give him the belt,” Shadis commanded.

“Y-yes!” Wagner complied.

By the end, Shadis concluded that Eren’s gear belt is broken. And the trainees were shocked at Eren’s ability to balance while his gear was broken and uncooperative that led him to failure in the first place. Eren went from failure to success. He’s going to defeat the Titans. Mikasa was relieved for Eren, and Armin believed in Eren. Reiner was stunned.

Eren’s revenge will proceed.

~~~

In most days, the trainees went onto the next step: using the Maneuver gear. Though this one dark day, they trained under the rain, carrying loaded bags while everyone, even Reiner, overheard Shadis shouting, lecturing over Armin’s slow pace. Reiner went over Armin’s side and slung Armin’s bag over Reiner’s shoulder. Albeit Armin retrieved it back and ran farther.

The people in training, his newfound friends, called Reiner the big brother—helpful and kind to everyone. But he wasn’t a big brother when it comes to girls’ side. He’s just as charming when he’s helping them unloading heavy items. And even encourage them during the one-on-one fight. Every girl had their hair covered their flustered eyes and smile. Each wink and touch he gave sent them flinging with squeals. Some boys were jealous because the girls they had a crush on were focused on Reiner.

Though Reiner had benefits of gaining admiration; to keep under and away from suspicions.

During supper, Eren and Jean argued again. Reiner grew tired of it. So he quickly eat his meal before bedtime. But the people before him took long to exit—filled with chatter about anything that’s unrelated to him.

Looking for another exit, he went at the right door, but cold darkness greeted him. The long night has caressed him with soft wind as he stepped out. Moonlight shone above the heavy pine wood trees. Exhaling, he watched the others saying goodnight to each other. The smoke-scent wafted through his nostrils, as he spotted the flames flickering.

Their life is different, after all. Using candles and fire and torches is an obvious, clear sign that island of Paradis is way far behind from the rest of the outside world. Hence the walls they built and buried themselves in for security and comfort from the hungry eyes and teeth from gigantic creatures.

In resolute state, Reiner marched onward onto the clear path, while pebbles crushed beneath his steps, ready to repose for tomorrow’s another course on defense.

But the noise shot nearby at his left direction. He stopped and inspected the crowded scenery. Only a few left, but all face at the opposite direction. A chance for Reiner to sneak into the forest. But with the Maneuver gear, his doom will come sooner than later. Though he entered in the forest, but not too far deep in.

Through the gusted wind, a melody entered.

Reiner was sure he wasn’t dreaming, he went in a little further, shoving the tree branches aside. A soothing melody came once more. His eyes fluttered, then shut. He took the song with him like the air he breathes. His legs numbed as he swayed.

Who’s voice was that? Reiner thought. Am I…dreaming?

“REINER!”

Behind him, the violent rustling from bushes became louder.

“What the hell are you doing there? The titans, remember? Without a defense weapon, you’d be dead!” Bertholdt lectured.

“I just thought…”

Bertholdt’s head tilted to the side. “Thought..?”

“Nothing, I thought I heard a deer coming by,” he lied.

“Everyone’s sleeping at this hour. We shouldn’t be waste anymore time than this.”

As they progressed into the clearing area, the grounds were completely empty.

“What’s up with you today?” Bertholdt scolded.

“Nothing,” Reiner replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just…bored. I don’t want to stand outside.”

Bertholdt sighed, hands behind his head. “Just don’t get carried away with the girls, alright? If you get too close to one of them, you’ll soon forget you-know-what. We’re here for one thing. And one thing only. It’s for the sake of—”

Reiner nudged Bertholdt with his elbow roughly. “Don’t say it, you idiot! People are still here! They could be hiding for all we know!”

They soon stopped at their mid-walk, found out that the boys were sneaking out from their cabins, based on their mood and direction they came from. Reiner greeted the boys goodnight before rushing into their cabins before taking a slight jog.

“Sorry, you’re not in a right mind,” Bertholdt remarked. “That’s why I’m here as your reminder. If you’re here alone, you’re doomed. And Annie won’t help you the way I did.”

Reiner’s brow twitched. “Why don’t you say that sentence to her face and see what happens?”

Bertholdt’s cool demeanor diminished. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said with his hands flailing. “Annie won’t remind you like I do. She does things in her own way—does her own kicking and whatnot.”

Reiner face forward, entering the cabins. “If you say so.”

Then he hopped inside the bed after he had taken off his shoes. In a loud groan, he said to himself, “Another day, another struggle.”

“You can do this,” Bertholdt said before blowing out the candle light and tucked himself in the sheets, already snoring and had his leg twitched.

His heart beat pumped each time he breathed aloud into the darkness. Thus, he appeased himself as his eyes fallen and his body motionless, his loud heart became softer to hear.

The sky was dark, and heard nothing but a song echoed in his dreams.

~~~

The one-on-one fight was no problem. Reiner found himself defenseless to Eren. He can fool Eren as a big and slow fighter, but when it comes to Mikasa, the role of being big and slow became real as it can be. He found himself flying and landed on top of Eren’s body.

The rest was a blur. A fight between Annie versus Mikasa. Both with great skills and their cold eyes turned against each other. This the world that Reiner is acquainted with.

~~~

The boys were crowded once they had their break from their training while Reiner and Bertholdt remain restful under the shade by the massive tree. Boys didn’t talk anything other than girls. But as soon as they mentioned girls, Reiner couldn’t bring himself to stay still as Bertholdt eventually gave up and accompanied Reiner to others.

“So what’s this about girls?” Reiner uttered.

“What’s happening?” Bertholdt’s awkwardness came through.

The boys exchanged glances with each other for a second. “There’s this girl, she’s really beautiful.”

“Her height’s too petite,” another boy said.

“And really pretty,” the third boy said.

“And gentle,” another boy commented.

“Who was it?”

“Christa Lenz,” the first boy answered. “She reminded me of a princess for some reason.”

The third boy cackled. “That’s too much of a stretch! I’d say she reminded me of a goddess to give us blessing.”

“If she were a goddess, she wouldn’t even you a look and give you a blessing without a second thought,” the second boy said.

“Hey, I’m not that hideous! It’s just the uniform that makes me feel sweaty.”

“From the sun, I hope.”

“Then you might as well join the people wanted to work in the fields instead.”

And soon fell into a laughter.

“Where is she?” Reiner asked in firm tone.

The boys all gawked at him now.

“She’s at the training grounds with Mikasa,” the first boy said.“Why?”

Reiner turned to see Bertholdt having a look at him in the eye with a silent caution.

“No reason,” Reiner replied, shrugging. “We just want to join in on the fun. We’ve been training hard for the last couple of days—my legs are getting all sore.”

“I agree,” the first boy said. “I wonder when the graduation will be. No one knows until we’re notified, right?” Then laid his hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “See you later.”

“Where are you going?” Bertholdt asked, mortified.

“To the food supplies inside Shadis’s building,” one of the boys answered.

“But we’re not allowed to be there,” the second boy scolded. “We’ll be hanged or shot if we go there. Or run laps until we’re starving.”

“Relax,” the first boy slung his arm over the second boy’s shoulder. “We’re just going to see if the potato girl is there.”

“I wonder if she’s going to run laps again,” the third boy said.

“Or not eat anything for tonight again,” the second boy added.

“Shadis really knows how to humiliate someone in front of the crowd,” the third boy said, snickering. “Remember the last time she ‘farted’?”

“Ah, who cares? As long as we have entertain, nothing else matters,” the first boy replied with a smug.

Three of the boys disappeared from Reiner and Bertholdt’s sight.

“You’re seriously not going, are you?” Beetholdt lectured.

“I’m not going to the food supplies,” Reiner replied.

In that moment, Bertholdt’s eyes went grim. The boys’s howling cackle echoed behind them. “I wasn’t talking about the food supplies.”

~~~

Down at the steepest hillside, the birds flocked near at a radiant sunset hung low between the clouds.

“Are you even listening to me, Reiner?” Bertholdt said. “If you fail, we—”

“I know, I know,” Reiner dismissed. “A little break won’t hurt.”

“I never said anything about a break. I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Yes, Mother,” Reiner remarked. He looked at Bertholdt over his shoulder.

Bertholdt sighed. “You’re a Warrior, playing as a soldier. Your heart belongs to Marley. Nowhere else.”

“Keep it down,” Reiner warned. “We’re almost there at the training grounds! We’re about to see them soon enough.”

Unimpressed, Bertholdt said, “It’s only Mikasa and Christa.”

Reiner’s lips curved. “Exactly.”

Bertholdt scratched his head. “You like Mikasa, too?”

Reiner shuddered back. “There’s no way I like Mikasa that way. Not in a million years. If anything, I’m glad she likes Eren more. I wouldn’t even let her near to anywhere near me or my bed.”

Bertholdt’s hand slammed against his face. “You—uh!” He slapped his face again. “You never change. Though you aren’t slacking from your mission at the start, so I suppose you need a break.”

Reiner’s head snapped with his ears perked up and his eyes twinkled. “Really?”

His friend’s shoulders sagged. “Do what you want as long as it doesn’t hurt the mission.”

“Speaking of mission, where’s Annie?”

“She should be with the others. But if not, I wouldn’t be surprised of her having some alone time. She sticks with us for so long she might be tired of looking at the same faces.”

His shoulders shrugged. “Guess so,” Reiner said.

Bertholdt screamed.

“What, is there a bug on you or SOMETHING?!”

Both boys jumped and fell altogether at the sight of glaring Annie.

“We’re here on this island, and you boys are surprisingly well-guarded,” Annie stated with her arms crossed. “Interesting progress. Is that how you boys trained nowadays?”

“We haven’t seen you,” Bertholdt said, clearing his throat. “For a while now. His face is smeared with blush once he hoisted himself. “Hi, Annie.”

Reiner smacked himself in the face. Of course he wouldn’t erase the fact that Bertholdt likes her.

Without giving a second glance, Annie walked ahead, approaching downward at the training grounds.

“Was there a reason you want to be at the training grounds?”

Bertholdt scratched his cheek. “Well, that’s—”

“If you’re here for training, we could use an extra hand,” Reiner answered.

Scoffing, Annie’s hair flipped over to the side. “What are you saying? You’ve been training long and hard since when you were a child.”

“She has a point,” Bertholdt supported.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t mean we’re slacking off. We’re here, training as them. We just need more time for more preparation. I’d be frightened if we keep ourselves down. We’d be dead in the ditch. As much as I hate to say this, but, one of these days we’re going to betray them someday. If someone finds out our true intentions, I’d rather be…be…”

“Be?” she said, her eyes unblinking.

Waiting.

“Brave,” the blond said. “Rather than be shameful.”

All of them stayed quiet.

“I agree,” Bertholdt said. “We have to be brave. We all have to, if it comes to that.” He patted his hand over Reiner’s back. “Don’t stress yourself. We’ll deal with it if we have to.”

Reiner dipped his head as an acknowledgment in return.

“It’s settled then,” Annie said in quiet determination.

Soon they met up with Mikasa, who was helping with Christa with defense mechanism with wooden weapons—all kinds. So far it has been going accordingly. But Eren was beaten badly, so badly Armin stitched Eren up, watching them from the sidelines.

“It hurts,” Eren whined.

“You should probably learn a thing or two from Mikasa’s skill,” Armin suggested with a faint, encouraged smile. “At any rate, you should start. It’s better to be beaten up than to be disarm by the Titans.”

“He’s right, you know,” Reiner intruded.

“Reiner,” Eren grinned, stretching from ear to ear.

“Don’t mean to pry, but, you’ve beaten down, only this time it’s Mikasa, and not the maneuver. Still, I don’t get what’s the point of fighting against people.”

“Beats me,” Eren responded. “Besides, it’s better to have knowledge than nothing.”

Then the boys overheard Mikasa’s harsh, but soft tone.

“Wrong,” she said, watching Christa, who was out of breath, ready to fall. “Your hands and arms need to be in a correct form when performing an attack. And your legs and feet need to be balanced—don’t step on a wrong foot.”

Reiner’s brows furrowed, eyes squinting.

Eren and Armin leaned forward, studying Reiner closely. “Something the matter, Reiner?” Eren spoke.

“She’s too harsh,” Reiner said. “Not everyone can be like Mikasa.”

Armin gulped. “True, but…”

“Was she always like this?”

“To who?”

“Everyone.”

“She’s always been like this, even before the Shinganshina’s fall. Why?”

Reiner noticed Armin gave him watchful eyes—curious, no doubt, but watchful.

“No reason,” he said to Armin. “She threw me across the field, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that,” Eren intruded.

He went to Christa once she’s dismissed by Mikasa. Reiner knelt down before her, and offered his hand for her to grip. She’s indeed beautiful, no doubt. Petite height as he got closer to her, her watching him with frightful expression.

So gentle and fragile. Too perfect for the unjust world.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I’m…” she cleared her throat. “I’m okay. I wasn’t seriously hurt. Mikasa did what she had to.”

Reiner chuckled. “That’s quite alright. Here, I’ll help you.”

Before Christa could touch Reiner’s hand, another hand showed up, splitting the concentrated mood. Both gazed at Ymir, a tall girl with brown hair with freckles, adorned with a scowl.

“I can take Christa from here, if you don’t mind,” she seethed, and carried Christa in her arms, fading into the sunset’s light.

“Wow,” is all Eren said.

~~~

He hasn’t seen Christa since midday. He supposed that Ymir has taken a certain liking to her. If Reiner crossed the line with temptation, things will ugly with Ymir. She had no doubt to report him if she discovers of his Titan form. With that, he decided not to pursue for Christa’s reciprocation.

Often so, his mind changes whenever there’s love and affection. But with Christa, he felt enamored, like the walls had broken down on him. Shaking it off, he cast his feelings aside.

After that, they went back to their cabins, but just before long, he heard the melody in the wind again. Suddenly, he had forgotten about Christa and the girls he flirted.

There it is again. The melody arises. The voice carried again into the wind and whispered in his ears.

Without consciousness, he followed the sound into the woods once more.

He never once heard sounded so unearthly and beautiful. The song felt real—resonated and clutched him in the heart.

When he finally reached into the forest’s center, and there she was singing, lying underneath the green grass, facing away from the moonlight, surrounded by fresh oblong leaflets and forget-me-nots, wearing her white nightgown reached up to her feet and her white puffed sleeves adorned her flawless skin. Her long manes splayed against the ground.

Reiner stopped himself. He couldn’t see her face. One wrong move, she’ll stop singing. He was no fool. Yet he was; he has no weapon with him.

Should I tell her? Should I not and stay here and watch?

As he was about elevate his foot, the twig crunched. You stopped singing, exhaled a soft gasp, promptly rose forward with her back turned.

“Who’s there?” you demanded.

Crisp leaves rustling as the cool air embedded onto your skin.

He heard your voice, saying, “Don’t come any closer.”

Anyone who would see you in this state will get in trouble. You’re defenseless, broke a curfew, and alone, no less. You needed a bit of guidance to help you for self-protection. Though he had closer inspection on you; you held a pocket knife.

“It’s not safe here,” he said aloud. “Head back to the cabins.”

“I hate it there,” you said. “I have to forget the militia life, even just for a moment.” You successfully hid behind the thick tree without relying on navigating your footsteps.

Reiner sauntered in careful pace. “Trust me, anywhere is safer than these woods. Titans lurk these parts every night.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with help,” he said, stepping closer to a thick tree she concealed herself with.

“You don’t have to show your face to me,” he said. “Come out, and I’ll help you.”

His ears caught your gentle sighs.

Surrendered, you walked backwards and shortly felt his hands rest atop your shoulders.

“You can trust me,” he said, ironically.

Pausing, Reiner felt you shivering under his touch. Reiner pulled his jacket out and placed it above your head.

Trust me, he said.

Underneath the jacket, he saw the shy glint your eyes. Although he’s joyous, his shadow nearly covered up your entire face.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispered aloud.

Both of you and Reiner giggled in relief.

A deep groan sounded through the trees, and there, the titan appeared. Reiner took your hand and ran as fast as he could, making way towards the cabins. The titan chased them, and your panic rises. Reiner appeased you as he retraced his steps to which direction he entered from. With the trees swayed violently and the birds flew, they knew they’re in deep trouble.

It took them long enough to reach the exit, and the scouts were alerted at the Titan’s heavy stomps. From there, the Titan has been annihilated, Reiner had his arms around you the whole time. When Commander Shadis saw what’s occurring, Reiner knew you and him in deep trouble.

Shadis spared no time to scold Reiner and you.

“What the hell are you doing in the forest? Didn’t I say that you are prohibited to stepped over into the woods?! Not only you left yourselves defenseless, but you also chose to be a Titan meal!”

Reiner’s neck slightly bowed. “We apologize, sir.”

“Apologies are unacceptable. For one week, you two will be in the stable duty for your disobedience and your incompetent performance! Until then, you’ll have to train harder and faster. I expect you won’t make the same mistake again!”

“Understood, sir,” Reiner complied as you softly said, “I understand.”

Even your head is tucked, Commander Shadis looked at you as an insufferable insect. Perhaps this is what calls a duty, or a certain care in order for you to be prepared for the events like this to make sure you don’t fail. Though it didn’t stop there.

“Go back to your cabins and get up early. You two will be doing duty as a soldier. But at night, you better damn well know how to handle the stables. Dismissed!”

~~~

“I’m sorry I acted stupid. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again,” you said in a fainted tone.

Reiner watched you in sadness. “Don’t be. A mistake can be fixed.”

He watched you halting your tracks and give him back his jacket. “Thank you.”

He chuckled, his golden eyes are shut. “No problem. If you need any help, you come to me.”

“I will,” you responded with bliss. As you took the first step on the wooden staircase leading up to your assigned cabin, Reiner grabbed your wrist and watched you turned around, but only your manes shielded your entire visage.

“Goodnight,” he said. And left, leaving you wondering.

~~~

Everything was perfectly usual in broad daylight, but everyone knew what occurred with Reiner. Everyone asked Reiner of the details, but he delivered none, saying that he wanted to stroll because he was bored. For Bertholdt and Annie, their reactions had made things difficult. Reiner has to keep up with a good image, otherwise, it’ll be stained. Then he thought about you, wondering if anyone asked.

Reiner wanted to see you again. Thankfully, Shadis both punished you and him. After the training and the exam sessions, Reiner paid you a visit in the cabins, but instead the girls he randomly once flirted were there.

“Reiner,” the girls were calling out to him, reaching down the steps to meet him.

“I hope you’re doing okay. That titan is unbelievably stupid,” the first girl said.

“Who are you looking for?” another girl asked.

“Have you seen Annie?” he said, lying.

“Annie isn’t here,” the third girl said. “Why? You need something from her?”

Reiner shook his head. “Suddenly I forgot what to say to her.”

“We’ll relay a message to her, if you want,” fourth girl insisted.

He settled a dismissal wave. “No need. I can say it to her myself.”

“We’re entirely familiar with Annie, but she looked scary,” the first girl commented.

Though Reiner ignored her careless remark and said his goodbye before he left to search for you.

The heat in his chest felt tighter as he goes farther to meet you. He felt unsure for a moment until the melody came.

His heart danced with relief as he followed the sound of your voice from the grounds to the stables. He went inside first, then as the melody grew louder, he went at the back of the stables, and behind the fence, Reiner saw you admiring the flowers nearby under the midday light as your lips tugged into a smile beneath a long cloak of hair. As you stood up, your eyes met his; your humming stopped. In a moment of abate, Reiner watched you. The cool breeze unveiled your face, still standing far apart. Reiner gripped his hand on the white fence as the sheepish look in your eyes weren’t there, replaced with a spark of confidence and familiarity, filled with spry and beauty basked under the afternoon sun. Like an angel basked in radiant sun.

Little did he know, Reiner found himself smitten in the hands of an Eldian.

Taglist: @colored-tr-panels @galactict3a @slay0368

[inkblackorchid]

If you had to make filler episode for aki I yugioh 5ds what would it be about?

Now I know she has had some filler episodes to her, but not much so I figure I ask

Assuming I would get only one filler episode, this is actually a pretty tough question—mostly because one-off filler episodes in 5Ds, especially those containing duels, usually can’t fit too much plot in them. If I could make just one filler episode for Aki (and if canon rewrites were not on the table), there’d be several candidates, topic-wise:

Aki’s first day back at the academy (show her actually reintegrating into normal society, possibly make her deal with the consequences of her actions as the Black Rose Witch by duelling an old classmate)

An actual, pre-finale duel between her and Sherry (win or lose, doesn’t matter, just actually use the setup their dynamic has for something god damn it)

Perhaps something to tie up the conflict with her parents nicely (this family has a lot of issues to work through and I wish canon had interacted more with that. Also, maybe let Aki duel her dad? Throwback to her childhood + opportunity to show she can now control her powers)

Literally any kind of episode that addresses how Aki figured out how to control her powers and/or an episode that digs into how she feels about them post DS arc (anything. Literally anything to make her reaction to losing them make more sense later. I beg you.)

An Iliaster encounter similar to Yusei’s run-in with Ghost and Jack’s face-off against fake Jack would have been nice for her. Not entirely sure on what kind would have suited her best, though.

If canon rewrites were on the table, I’d have one very, very obvious idea: Make the episode with the fussy vice principal at the academy about her, not about Yusei. Good opportunity to show how her academy peers feel about her, to let her show off her duelling skills, and to show the audience early that she can now control her powers. Bam. We could have had it all.

Now, if I had several episodes at my disposal though, Crashtown-mini-arc-style, my answer would also be very simple again: I’d do pretty much what I did with my fic To Bloom or To Wilt. Aki gets to find out Divine’s alive and faces him one more time. Perfect to show her character growth and to tie up the loose end that is the Arcadia Movement.

(And if a full canon rewrite were on the table, I direct you to my Aki fics, lmao.)

[juneknight]

My heart goes out to you rn 💞 I'm going to tip the shit out of you I just get nervous about my account ever seeing the light of day 😬

So kind of a specific one, but could you do a situation with the boys where the reader feels unattractive bc she doesn't think she looks feminine enough? Possibly ending in some NSFW comfort 👀

(I'm afab and I've had two people assume I'm a boy in the last month bc I have a short haircut, feeling a little sensitive about it 😅)

Thank you so much if you have tipped or when you tip. Every penny is so appreciated. Also, as someone who has shaved her head a few times, I felt this!

About this: steven grant/ fem!reader, talks of femininity vs masculinity, some innuendo at the end, pretty soft and sweet with a hint of toppy Steven.

Reader gets a haircut and feels instant regret.

*

Steven isn’t supposed to check his phone at work. Donna takes the sale of overpriced stuffies very seriously (though she didn’t seem to care when Steven told her about the nuances between depicting Bastet with rounded ears vs pointed ears), and if she catches Steven even using his phone to check the time, she threatens to send him walking. But Steven’s phone has buzzed thrice in his pocket, and he knows that it is you. 

No one else messages Steven; no one but you. For a while he just daydreams about what your messages might say. What little update might you have sent about your day? Are you asking what the two of you should have for dinner? Perhaps you’re even sending something of a more personal nature, something that will have Steven rushing to the loo to cool himself off. You’ve done that once before. 

Maybe you’re even sending pictures. You had just gone to get a haircut that morning. If it had given you a confidence boost, Steven would gladly reap the benefits. Nothing drove him wilder than when you were so clearly appreciating your own allure…gods, but he has to look. 

Glancing around to make sure that Donna isn’t looming like a cloud about to rain on his parade, Steven works his phone from his trousers and sees that each message is from you. No pictures, though. 

I made a mistake. 

Five minutes later: In a foul mood. Called off the rest of the day. Be careful on the bus ride home. 

A half hour ago: Bring something home for dinner? Xx

Steven frowns. Not quite any of the things he had imagined you might be saying. What sort of mistake had you made? Something at work? He knew that fouling up and pissing Donna off could put Steven in the most dismal of moods. Well. He made a silent vow to pick up your favorite take-away on the way home. Maybe even flowers. Or—

“Better be the bloody King calling you, or I’ll ban phones on the floor altogether,” Donna says from behind him, giving him a proper jumpscare.

*

Three hours and twenty-three stuffies later, Steven slips through the flat with fragrant Italian food under one arm and a bouquet of mostly-non-wilted roses tucked between the crook of his elbow and his side. 

“Hellooo,” he calls lightly, a hint of trepidation filling him when you aren’t immediately visible. He sets his flat keys aside and puts the take-away and flowers on the kitchen table, eyes scanning the flat for you. You aren’t curled up in your armchair (the one right beside his). You aren’t lounging on the loveseat watching the a documentary on the latest anthropology hot topic. You aren’t curled up in b—

Ah. You are. Except…

“Darling, are you hiding from me?” Steven wonders, looking at your figure completely obscured beneath the blankets. The blankets don’t move, though he hears your sigh. “Oh gods, she’s dead.” 

Steven throws himself beside you on the bed, tossing an arm over your figure and dragging your blanketed body towards him. He presses his face into the crook of your neck (or possibly your armpit, difficult to tell beneath the thick coverlet) and lets out a showy sob. Immediately your figure snorts, struggling against him. Steven yelps and jerks away. 

“Come out, you Osiris, freshly raised from the grave—” 

His breath catches. 

You have cut all your hair off into a short, modern style. It isn’t at all like anything you’ve done in the past, and it isn’t anything like what you had hinted you planned for the stylist to give you at the shop earlier that morning. 

“Oh, darling. Be still my heart. You look amazing!” 

Something passes over your face, some shadowed, vulnerable crack in your strong veneer. Your hand lifts, patting at the hair softly. “Do you really think so? Be honest.” 

“I do! Not that I think I could ever feel otherwise, but you look incredible.Was this your mistake? Did the stylist take a little too much off the top?” 

“No–no this is what I wanted her to give me,” you admit, wiping at your nose gently. Steven sees then that your eyes are red, a little swollen from tears. “I thought that it was going to make me feel so…badass. And it did! But then at lunch the waiter said, Yes, Sir, when I asked him if I could have another glass of iced-tea, and then a coworker pulled a face and said that I was so brave and it was far too masculine for her taste and I just…this isn’t what I wanted.” 

Steven scoffs. He rolls onto his back and opens his arm, making room for you to wiggle up against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. Your hair smells like the posh shampoo and conditioner they use at the stylist you go to, when he kisses the crown of your head. 

“That’s bollocks. Poor waiter must have been blind—I don’t want to imagine all the dishes he was breaking in the back. And too masculine for her taste? Well it’s a bloody good thing it’s not her hair, nor her taste you’re trying to appeal to! You know, I have half a mind to go to work with you tomorrow and tell her what’s what—” 

“Do you mean it? I’m not too boyish, like this?” 

Steven softens even further, running a hand up and down the length of your side that he can reach. “No. I don’t buy in to all that, love. Hair is just hair, long or short or anywhere in between. It doesn’t change who you are. You get to decide what’s feminine or not, and to hell with anyone who thinks otherwise. But if my two-pounds helps at all…you know I’m only attracted to women. If I’m attracted to you more than any other woman—what’s that say about you?” 

“That I am the most womanly of womans,” you say with a wet little laugh, wiping at your eye. 

“I mean it,” Steven says lowly. Moving his hand from your side to your back, he rolls you onto him until your chests are flush together, relishing in the weight of you against him before you sit up, straddling his thighs. His eyes move over you: your hair, your features, your clothes. All of the pieces that come together to create a picture of the woman he loves. “You drive me mad, you know that don’t you?” 

A little breathless, you shift against his lap. “I think I can feel it.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I think I’d like to kiss you.” 

You lean down, one hand against his chest, feeling the firmness of his pecs through the kitschy short-sleeve dress shirt he had donned underneath his jacket that day. His kiss is already hungry, the way Steven’s kisses usually start: a little desperate, a little like he is afraid you will stop kissing him any moment. But then he relaxes, licks languidly into your mouth. Beneath you, his cock hardens the rest of the way, and you can’t help but shift against it, working til it is in that perfect spot dead center between your legs. 

“I love you so much,” you murmur, trailing kisses down his jaw and into the juncture of his neck. 

Suddenly there is a bright burst of tension on your scalp as he grips your hair and tugs you back away from his neck, a gasp slipping from your swollen mouth. His eyes are dark, the pupils huge, liable enough to swallow you whole. 

“Still plenty for me to grab on to, isn’t there?” Steven breathes. 

You let your eyes flutter shut as he tugs again, feeling the ache all the way down between your thighs. 

“Better make good use of it…”