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#lit: throne of glass
enter-the-phantom · 10 months
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So I’m reading The Fourth Wing
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new Ancient!Danny idea
Basically, you know how some/most Ancients have their own kingdoms/people and stuff?
Danny, but with a found family twist.
Since his obsession is protection, dead superheroes as his citizens?
Or you could do a Ghost King twist, with dead superheroes or warriors or knights in his ‘circle of favored’.
Like, imagine when anyone as a superhero dies, they meet a kid guy with a blazing crown, glowing eyes and frost falling.
“Hi, I’m Danny. What’s your name?”
“U-uh, hi, I’m Jason, Jason Todd.”
JUST
- Jason being a squire/ intern there until one day, POOF
- Jason speaking kinda ghostly formal, like this would happen:
Bruce: How’re you doing?
Jason: Just as well as a sparrow in a turtleshell fares. (realises) GODDAMN-
- Once, the JLA asked the magic users to help summon the High King, and Jason just went, oh Danny? Yeah I know him I interned for him.
JLA: 🤔
Jason: When I was dead.
JLA: I- what- the- I-
Bruce: You never mentioned this.
Jason: Cause I didn’t want to, douchebag.
- Danny like AYO JASON’S HERE
- And a shiton of ghosts just SWARM HIM
- imagine Infinite Realms as INFINITEbtw
- so Tony Stark like where you been kid?
- (spoilers for throne of glass) Gavriel: Aelin and Aedion’ve missed you
- Percy Jackson: Hey kid! Annabeth and Hermione made those designs you wanted! Can he come see them?
- Harry mf Potter, being close friends with Death: I really don’t see why Danny would say no.
- etc etc
YOU GET THE PICTURE?
JLA: Wait so do we-
Danny: Yup.
JLA: So every-
Danny: Yup.
JASON BEING FRIENDS WITH SO MANY HEROES JABSJn$/$/$:!:
Like Jason and the mf Winx Club if you want honestly!!!!
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paigeypaige19 · 1 year
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She wasn't fine, not even close. But she wasn't dead. And that was a start.
Sarah J. Maas, Empire of Storms
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critical-quoter · 3 months
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If you can learn to endure pain, you can survive anything. Some people learn to embrace it - to love it. Some endure it through drowning it in sorrow, or by making themselves forget. Others turn it into anger.
The Assassin's Blade - Sarah J. Maas
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laylaslibrary · 10 months
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Isn't all that rage so ugly? And isn't it mine, still? Good God, isn't it mine?
Ashe Vernon, Not a Girl
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morgancgaliano · 6 months
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What's your fave among these bad boy Love Interest in Y.A. novel?
Chop-chop ppl, hurry up&vote, I know you love them all... Plus, try a guess in the comments to know who is who among the bb LI in the best YA novels so far (I gave you a good hint already with that Cruel Prince right at the start of the poll...)
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smolandweirdwriter · 8 months
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Something I would like explained to me is why all ya fantasy worlds are sexist. some of them don’t have racism. some of them don’t have homophobia. but all of them are sexist. i’m genuinely wondering why. theories?
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chashnii · 1 year
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i miss dorian havilliard
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the-chaotic-ghost · 1 year
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Me: oh wow this YA book looks really cool. The description seems intriguing and I’ve heard some good things about it.
Book: *has multiple descriptive sex scene despite being labeled young adult*
Me: *closes book* time to keep looking.
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makeusfly · 14 days
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My Thoughts on Series
I used to be a bookseller, and was a librarian before that. There are certain calculations you do when you’re a professional reader. Someone has to read the book everyone is going to ask about, but if everyone is reading it, it doesn’t have to be you. This is how I got away with not reading Sarah J. Maas, despite the fact that I was considered an expert in both YA and fantasy books. With the new…
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hiddenwashington · 11 months
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@tragcdysewn said : Was that [EMILIA CLARKE]? Oh no no, that was just [MANON BLACKBEAK], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [THRONE OF GLASS]. They are [ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN] years old, use [SHE/HER] and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long. (mario said she'd consider a thing so here we are)
accepted! welcome to washington d.c. manon blackbeak [emilia clarke]! please send in your account within 24 hours! please be sure to take a look at the checklist now that you've arrived! we look forward to seeing you around the city! 
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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There is a type of plot that is prevalent in YA books and starting to get into general lit that I do not like. It is a similar trope to the MacGuffin, but instead of the plot being driven by an object, it is driven by the characters being in some sort of situation with formally fixed stakes.
Just as a MacGuffin is an object with no specific properties that affect its importance to the story, the identifying characteristic of this plot is that exact nature of the situation is irrelevant or at least not very important.
A very common example is when characters are involved in some sort of game or competition—for example, the first Throne of Glass book involves the protagonist competing to become the king's assassin, but the plot of the book would need to change very little if the competition was a beauty pageant.
"Gamified" plot lines like this often also include MacGuffins (to drive the "game"), confirming the tropes' similarity in my head.
The other common example is the "magic/superhero/assassin school" plot. The "school" is often just a device that brings the characters together and keeps them on a predetermined track, but there's nothing about what the characters are learning or even the school's specific identity as an educational institution that affects the plot.
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paigeypaige19 · 1 year
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She had a flicker of memory from a time when, just for a moment, she'd been free; when the world had been wide open and she'd been about to enter it with Sam at her side. It was a freedom that she was still working for, because even though she'd tasted it only for a heartbeat, it had been the most exquisite heartbeat she'd ever experienced.
Sarah J. Maas, Crown of Midnight
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ghost-1-y · 4 months
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Sabotage
Trickster!Sanemi x Fem!Tricked Princess!Reader
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Content Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, dubcon(?), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (f! receiving), oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering, handjob, Sanemi can clone himself, double penetration (therefore anal), HEAVY degradation, brat tamer!Sanemi x bratty!reader, Sanemi has an olfactophilia kink, masturbation (Sanemi), spanking as punishment, overstimulation as punishment, lots of dumbification, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, multiple creamp!es, Sanemi is mean in this, Sanemi points a knife to reader’s throat at some point (he doesn’t draw blood), mentions of food, mentions of dead animals, reader is a spoiled, bratty princess, brief mentions of homewrecking (not acted upon), mentions of a future arranged marriage, Sanemi plays “tricks” on reader, lmk if I missed anything!!
Word Count: ~15k
A/N: apologies for this taking literally forever for me to post, I went through a period of burnout and have been in classes these past two months. Also, apologies for this being so long, the plot got ahead of me and it ended up becoming my largest fic to date, but I do promise smut at the end (as you can probably tell by the content warnings lmao). Also please be nice I’m sorry if this fic is actually awful lol :')
Divider Credit: @/cafekitsune
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The sound of crystal heels against marbled stone were followed by head turns of maids and servants as you walked through the long corridor, bowing or curtseying as you passed, soft murmurs of your highness and my princess uttered in haste before returning to their duties.
Everything was as it should be: polished gold-framed paintings and chandeliers lit with gentle flames above, ornate silver door handles grasped by armored knights as entrances opened for you time and time again, strolling up rounded stairways and into the throne room – where your father, King Ubayashiki, and his wife, Lady Amane, sat.
The sun was orange through the glass panes that decorated the palace walls. Rainbows scattered across the palace floor, and fractals of light beamed at varying angles which made the golden thrones glimmer with radiance.
“My dear child,” your father smiled gently upon you, “I am glad to see you in good health.”
He was flanked by a line of his advisors on his left side, most of them old and feeble, except for one: a quiet ravenette with eyes which beheld endless pools of deep blue – Tomioka, you believed his name was. 
Tomioka was quite handsome, yet always expressed disinterest in the matters discussed at these sorts of meetings – today, he decided to forgo usual etiquette by holding his head up by one of his fists, eyes taking in the grandeur of the throne room rather than being focused on you – as the rest of the advisors were.
“Father,” you curtseyed – forcing your eyes to pry away from the young advisor, “I reciprocate your sentiment. I am glad to see you well.”
He chuckled, “Your words are much appreciated, but I’m afraid they are not true. I have come down with sickness, and our lovely doctor here–” he waved towards his left, referring to a rather beautiful woman with dark hair and violet eyes who sat further away from the line of advisors, “–Lady Kocho, is doing her absolute best to treat me, but, it has made me realize a few things, namely how very brief our lives are on this earth, and–”
“Father, with all due respect, what have you summoned me for?” you asked, impatience seeping into your tone.
The king sighed, “I need you to be married, my dear child.��
“What?” you exclaimed, “no– I don’t want to. You cannot and will not force me to do such a thing.”
Your father sighed, “that is why, my dear, that we are going to be holding a masquerade ball on the next full moon – which, I believe, is five days from now. We have also decided that, due to time and the uncertainty of my sickness, you will be wed on the very next day.”
“What the hell is a ball going to do? Do you believe I’ll just suddenly meet the love of my life while dancing with a masked stranger?”
“That is not the objective, my dear, I wish for you to get to know the princes from nearby nations, and I believe a masquerade ball is perfect to learn personalities without any bias. Whomever you get along with most, as well as whoever I believe will be most fit as a king, will be the one whom you marry.”
“Well, I wish you luck in making me attend, because I refuse to entertain this idea you’ve thought up. You haven’t even given me a reason as to why I should plan to be married.”
There was tension amongst the members of the advisory council, with even Tomioka paying closer attention to your rather loud grievances.
You could almost feel his azure eyes boring into your soul.
“My dear child, even though I am your father, you must remember that I am also your King, and you will do well to remember that,” he said quietly.
“So, what? Are you going to have me thrown into the dungeons if I don’t comply?” You crossed your arms as you glared down at him. “You can’t possibly be serious–”
“That is not what I wish for, my child, but you must be responsible to your kingdom and do what I ask of you. One day, I will no longer be here, and you will need to step up and take the throne once that happens. This is the first step towards that end.”
“I don’t care about being responsible to the kingdom! They must bow to me anyway, the reason for their subservience is none of my concern.”
If you weren’t consumed by your fit of rage, you might have noticed that to your right, for a fraction of a second, the hue of the handsome ravenette’s eyes turned from a deep blue to a stormy purple.
“My child, you must learn that people do not bow blindly to the throne. They bow out of respect for a leader that makes decisions which keep them in mind.”
“They should respect me regardless. I’m their princess. That should be enough for them.”
You did not wait for your father to continue his lecture, as you stormed out of the throne room and marched back toward your chambers.
Upon entering your bedroom, a fireplace had already been lit – its crackling flames providing just enough heat for one’s slumber during a mid-winter night.
You sat down on the edge of your rather large bed – a mattress as soft as clouds, and sheets of the finest silk which was woven with royalty in mind. You kicked off your heels, scattering them halfway across your cozy living space – not caring to put them away properly – the help was there for such chores, anyway.
Your lady-in-waiting – you believed her name was Kanroji – knocked upon the carefully carved wooden doors of your chambers, before entering upon your command. She gave you a soft smile and curtseyed before you.
“It’s a wonderful evening, my princess, I hope today treated you well,” she greeted, and you gave out a loud sigh before flopping onto the mattress, a pout visible on your face as Kanroji picked up your discarded heels from the floor and placed them in their proper spot. 
“Kanroji–” you elongated the last vowel of her name, “today was awful. Can you believe my dad possessed the gall to summon me today? And for what– to discuss marriage?” you groaned, “If I could, I would’ve wiped that everlasting smile off of his face for making me go through all of this!”
“My princess, that is no way to speak about your father, much less your king,” Kanroji lightly scolded you, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m sure his reasons are sound. I understand if you find the idea rather, well, uprooting I should say, but–”
“–But nothing!” you exclaimed, exasperation evident in your tone. “I don’t want to be responsible for the people, especially if it’s at the expense of my own losses!”
“Princess, with all due respect, they are your people,” Kanroji reminded you, “being a princess doesn’t exempt you from responsibilities.”
Rolling your eyes once more, you grumbled out a “whatever,” and sat up on your bed to face your lady-in-waiting.
“I’m sure that it was at least nice to speak with your father, no? Considering how busy he is and all?” Kanroji asked with a smile.
“Not really,” you groaned, “but I did get to see that one cute advisor he has, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
“Are you referring to Lord Tomioka, my princess?”
“Who else? The rest of them are old as shit– you think I’d fall for Urokodaki? Or – god forbid – Kuwajima?”
“A princess must not use such foul language, your highness,” Kanroji chided, “although I must say that I never expected you to fall for those…older men.”
You sighed in annoyance, “technically, I can do whatever I want, Lady Kanroji.”
“Unfortunately, Lord Tomioka is already married to the royal doctor, Lady Kocho,” Kanroji ignored the tone of your voice, “perhaps it would be wise to listen to King Ubayashiki’s words and look for a potential suitor at the next royal ball?”
“I doubt he has that much love for her,” you muttered, “perhaps I could pull Lord Tomioka aside during the festivities and–”
“Your highness, with all due respect, you will do no such thing,” Kanroji admonished you.
“But I’m the princess, Lady Kanroji, surely he’d see that as an opportunity for upward mobility, no?”
Kanroji sighed, deciding not to push the topic further. She motioned for you to stand up so she could undress you. You turned your back to her as she started untying the strands of your outer bodice, before removing it and working on the following layers to place them into a soiled linen basket.
“My princess will wash her face before heading to bed, we don’t want any bad air to ruin your perfect skin,” Kanroji urged as she helped you into your night slip.
“You don’t need to treat me like I’m five, Lady Kanroji. I know how to take care of myself.”
Kanroji schooled her expression from that of a tight-lipped smile to one with gentle radiance.
“Of course, your highness.”
You headed to your bathroom, but, rather than washing your face by yourself, you merely sat down on a cushioned chair beside the door. Kanroji followed, obtaining a washcloth made of the softest cotton and dipping it in water which she had warmed prior to your arrival. She dabbed at your face, removing any excess dirt or sweat which built up throughout the day, before lathering some soap into the cloth and gently applying it to your face, before rinsing it away with more water.
After she patted your face dry with another towel, she handed you your toothbrush and paste, and, after you had finished, provided you with water and a spit cup so you could rinse out your mouth. 
“My princess seems to be all ready for bed now, let’s get you cozied up for the night.”
She led you back to your bedroom, and you buried yourself in warm blankets, choosing not to respond as she blew out one final candle and bid you a good night.
The following day, upon your wake, the birds outside of your window were surprisingly quiet. You’d quite often awake to the chirps of songbirds and hoots of mourning doves, which would rise you out of your restful sleep. 
You stood up from your bed, and walked over to your wardrobe, excited to see if the maids had fully cycled your favorite dress through the laundry – one which had been inspired by your own confidence, merely amplifying everything desirable about your figure. It exemplified your wealth, your status; it brought you up into the clouds of materialism as others looked up at you in pure awe.
However, upon opening your wardrobe, you were shocked to find yourself looking at the wooden backing of the closet rather than your endless amounts of clothing that usually hung from the racks – something that you had not laid eyes upon ever since you first received the piece of furniture.
“Kanroji!” you yelled for your assistant, who, despite being summoned, still had the courtesy to knock upon your door before entering.
“Is something wrong, my princess?” she asked delicately as always, yet her honeyed lips did nothing to calm you down.
“You did this, didn’t you?” you accused her as you waved your hands haphazardly towards the empty wardrobe, “why do I not have any clothing to wear?”
Kanroji looked at you in pure confusion, before walking over and gazing upon what you were talking about. She sighed, “I didn’t do this, your highness, perhaps one of the maids went to wash all of your clothing and forgot to return it?”
“Why would they think to wash clothing which hasn’t been worn!?” you argued, “what should I do, then, if I don’t have anything to wear?”
Kanroji pondered for a moment, before seemingly coming to a solution.
“Well, my princess, if you would be so kind to take into consideration this idea I have, I may have a solution–”
“Just spit it out!”
Kanroji sighed, trying not to be taken aback by your rude behavior, “I believe we have extra clothing which is usually reserved for the royal staff. I could go fetch one for you if–”
“So I am to wear a servant’s clothes? To dress myself as a peasant?”
“No, my princess, the royal staff uniforms are hardly clothing meant for a commoner, they are still made of fine quality fabric and are sewn by the best seamstresses in the kingdom.”
You rolled your eyes, “fine, but only because there’s no other choice. Bring me the peasants’ clothing.”
Kanroji turned on her heel and left your room to fetch the uniform, leaving you to walk around your room in silence. After pacing around for a few minutes, you went up to your window, where a songbird had made its nest and laid its eggs.
You had asked time and time again for the staff to remove the nest, as it was partially obstructing the view of your garden, yet they hadn’t gotten around to it, it seemed.
However, today, the nest was completely empty – not a bird nor egg in sight.
“Princess, I’ve gathered a uniform set in your size,” Kanroji said behind you, prompting you to turn your head.
“Give it here.”
She handed you the folded clothing, and you held it out in front of you, inspecting it with expressive disgust.
“How am I supposed to put this on? It’s too frilly and complicated.”
“Allow me, your highness,” Kanroji muttered, before taking the uniform and having you step into it, buttoning it up and smoothing out the skirt.
“You look beautiful as always, my princess,” she smiled at you.
“I’d hardly say that,” you grumbled, “take me to my gardens, won’t you? I need some fresh air after this whole–” you waved your hands trying to find the right word, “–mess.”
Kanroji nodded, “of course, your highness.”
She led you through the winding corridors of the castle, and, as much as you preferred being the one leading, today you were almost hiding yourself behind your assistant – not wishing for anyone to look down upon you for the clothing you wore.
Yet, after a while, you realized that no one spared a second glance toward you. Not a single maid, nor servant, bothered to bow or greet you as you walked by. Easily offended by their lack of etiquette, you caught up with your lady-in-waiting, Kanroji, and whispered harshly into her ear.
“Why are they not greeting me? Usually they bow upon seeing or hearing me walk by. I have never seen such insubordination in my entire life–”
“My princess, it may be due to your clothing. You are wearing quite an unusual outfit for a royal today, and they are quite busy with setting up the decorations and such for the ball. I plead with you to be patient with them, your highness.”
You huffed, but remained silent after hearing her reasoning, your shoulders hunched in annoyance as Kanroji led you outside.
Your garden was one of the more peaceful areas of the palace. It was strategically placed so that you could view it from your bedroom window, a hectare of greenery reserved just for yourself. It caught the rays of sun through the early morning to late evening, with a rather beautiful fountain built in the very center of it made of marble, sculpted with three tiers that had water flow down into a rounded reservoir. The reservoir itself had sculptures sitting on the edges of the fountain – with one of the notable figures being that of Icarus.
Along the border of the garden, white and purple hydrangeas bloomed in the late morning sun, which gave way to various other floral species. It was all proper and organized, each plant having a designated area for it to flourish in. Walking further into the garden, you held out your hand to trace your fingers along the petals of buttercups, a flower which had always been one of your favorites ��� its delicate appearance attracting you to it. 
You approached a small gazebo that found its place on the edge of the garden, a shaded area for you to use should you grow tired. Taking a seat, you exhaled slowly, recollecting yourself from the earlier mishap that was out of your control, almost entering a sort of meditative state. Your thoughts, however, wandered, and eventually led you to your fathers words of having you become married.
“Lady Kanroji?” you asked, and she smiled kindly at you – just as she always did. It was a rather comforting sight, to have someone so close that didn’t seem bothered by anything in the entire world.
“Yes, my princess?”
“Do you ever feel like…your life is out of your hands? Like you’re starting to lose control?” you asked, voice slightly uneasy as you turned your head away from her, deciding to rather admire flowers which neighbored the bench you sat on.
A bumblebee flew past you, its fat little body buzzing between flowers, working hard to pollinate each one.
“Well, yes, everyone does– but, what is making you feel this way, your highness?”
“I mean, look at this bee here– it probably thinks about nothing but how it needs to pollinate flowers and collect nectar for its hive – wherever that may be, right?”
“Of course, princess,”
The bee landed on a lone calendula, burying itself in pollen, before taking a quick moment to rest before flying off to another part of the garden.
“I wish my life was more like this bee. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything except the task in front of me.”
“Princess, is this about the clothes in your wardrobe being missing this morning?” Kanroji inquired.
You shook your head, “no, I’ve accepted that as a small mishap. I’m more worried about how my freedom might be taken away from me, with being married soon and all, especially to someone that I—”
“—that you know nothing about?” Kanroji finished for you.
You nodded, before eyeing a blooming foxglove plant, approaching it and plucking a single flower from its stem, twirling it in your hand as you admired its range of colors. 
“I just wish that, at least, my last few days of freedom before this ball will be alright.”
Kanroji tentatively, ever so diligently following your every step, took your hand in hers, “I am wishing only the best for you, my princess. I promise that your husband will be as kind and as loving as can be.”
You smiled at her, still holding the foxglove in your hands, “thank you, Lady Kanroji.”
“–and if he’s not, then I promise to make his life a living hell,” she grinned, causing a hearty laugh to emerge from your chest.
“That hopefully won’t be necessary, but I thank you nonetheless.”
You looked down towards the ground, noticing that an invasive species of yellow tansy has taken root in the soil all throughout the garden.
Groaning, you looked up towards Kanroji once more, “do we not have a gardener to get rid of these weeds?” you asked exasperatedly, and she chuckled.
“Your highness, with all due respect, didn’t you fire them last week because they pruned your rose bush in a way that wasn’t to your liking?”
Sighing, you responded, “you’re right, we’ll need a new one soon, perhaps one of the servants would care for a promotion?”
“We’ll see about that, my princess. As for now, though, how about we get you washed up from being outside, and then after I’m sure we can have the royal chef make you one of your favorite meals for dinner later? As a little treat for all the anguish from today, perhaps?”
You smiled, “that sounds wonderful.”
You sat in the great hall of the castle, sampling hors d'oeuvres and sipping on champagne, chatting idly with your assistant at your own private table, watching waiters and waitresses move about through all the different tables, serving appetizers and samples of foods to both guests and royals alike.
Music played in the background from an entourage of pianists and violinists, who were playing some piece from Beethoven that you couldn’t recall the name of.
Feeling refreshed, you called over the waiter for yet another glass of champagne, motioning him to fill up Kanroji’s glass as well.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly–” Kanroji protested, to which you waved your hand in front of her.
“C’mon,” you grinned, “you work so hard. Just one glass? Please?”
She huffed in feigned annoyance, but relented as she let the waiter fill up her glass with the bubbly drink. 
“You seem much happier now that the maids found one of your spare dresses in the dried laundry, don’t you?” Kanroji grinned.
You nodded, “I feel more beautiful this way. I really disliked that maid uniform. I felt so…inferior.”
“Clothing does not make a princess, you know,” she reminded you simply as you took another bite of food, and Kanroji grimaced as you opened your filled mouth to talk.
“I know. ‘M a princess regardless o’ wha’ ‘m wearin’,” you mumbled before swallowing, “you don’t need to remind me.”
Kanroji sighed as you so easily missed the point she was trying to make, watching as you waved for the waiter to come by, ready to order your meal. 
“What should I have prepared for you this flashy evening, your highness?” he asked.
The man before you was tall and muscular, with white hair that fell down his shoulders and crimson eyes that reminded you of rubies. He took out a notepad to write down your orders when you realized his left hand proudly displayed three golden bands which were embedded with diamonds, each one on a separate finger. 
You could hardly believe he was just a mere waiter for the castle.
With his looks, you believed he could be doing much better.
“Would it be so bad if I said ‘you’?” you smiled lazily at him, causing him to chuckle at your statement.
“Unfortunately, my princess, I am a happily married man,” he said, pointing to the three rings, “although I wouldn’t be opposed to adding a fourth wife to the family.”
Your nose crinkled in disgust – not because he had multiple wives, no – but because you disliked the idea of having to share him with others.
What belonged to the princess should belong to her alone.
“I’ll pass,” you forced out, “I would, however, like to request the foie gras for my meal tonight, if you could you put that in for me — and, perhaps, a side of toasted baguette with caviar spread will do.” 
“Ah, my princess, as much as we are happy to make anything you desire, I must regretfully inform you that we do not have any foie gras for tonight.”
Your blood pressure started to rise. Putting on a fake smile, which was more akin to that of a grimace, you asked, “and what may be the reason for the kitchen being unprepared to take my order?”
“Your highness, I promise that it is not the kitchen’s fault. A strange occurrence, and a most un-flashy one, really – our local farmers have reported that every single one of their animals have escaped, and what’s more- they can’t be found anywhere within the borders of the kingdom.”
You thought back to the morning, when you made note of the usual songbirds outside of your window being absent.
“Do you not have any duck meat preserved?” you asked.
“No, your highness. We hunt the very same day that we prepare the meals so that they’re fresh. Which is why–”
“Which is why you’re supposedly unable to adhere to my request. I heard you the first time. No need to repeat yourself,” you huffed. “If you don’t have any meat, then what do you have?”
Just as the waiter was about to open his mouth, you held up your hand to stop him, “Never mind. Just get me a salad. Now leave us,” you glared at him, disdain heavy in your tone.
“Of course, princess.”
You rolled your eyes as he sauntered away, and Kanroji stared at you with a slight frown on her face.
“What is it?” you asked, taking her hand and holding it.
Kanroji tensed, but allowed her hand to stay rested on yours.
“It’s nothing, I promise,” she started, “I hope that you can be more patient with them, though, they are doing their best to serve you.”
You sighed, “whatever.”
You looked down at her hand, at which point a frown crossed your face.
“Lady Kanroji, since when did you have such an awful scar?”
Looking back up at her, she seemed slightly alarmed, taking her hand away from yours.
“What are you talking about, princess?” She looked down at her own hand, inspecting it as though she didn’t realize she had such a blemish.
“That scar– I don’t know why I only just noticed it, but–” you paused as she showed you her hand once more.
Her hand was flawless.
“You may have had too much to drink, princess, should I escort you back to your room?”
You looked at your assistant in utter confusion, “but–”
“I highly doubt it was anything more than a trick of the light,” she smiled reassuringly. “Let’s get you to your chambers now, alright princess?”
You awoke to the pounding of fists against your door, jolting up from your bed.
“Princess! Please open the door!” one of the royal guards shouted from outside your chambers.
Groggily, you walked up and opened it, to find the guard in what seemed to be a slightly confused panic.
“What’s going on?”
“You’ll have to come down to the royal gardens with me, princess, there’s something that was…er– left for you.”
In a huff, you followed his instructions, the guard following closely behind you, winding through corridors and staircases until you reached the outside, where a small crowd consisting mostly of royal staff could be seen huddling around something, exchanging whispers and gasps that were unintelligible.
“What in the hell did you raise me out of my bed for that needed my immediate attention?” you yelled back at the guard, who was only a few paces behind you, “forcing me to go outside while looking this indecent better have a good explanation.”
You pushed your way through the crowd, only to stop short as you gazed at what was before you: a dead cow, one that seemed to be entirely gutted, with its entrails scattered about around its body. 
The same guard walked up to you, tapping you on the shoulder before handing you a scroll, “this was laid beside the mauled animal,” he explained.
You unraveled it, only to read something that made you feel rather faint.
Here’s that meat you missed so dearly last night, princess.
You could almost laugh, if it weren’t for how absolutely no one could’ve heard about this conversation besides Lady Kanroji and the waiter himself.
Perhaps he notified the chef and one of the kitchen staff got upset? But that wouldn’t explain how they got the cow in the first place if all the animals are all–
“Princess?”
You looked up at the guard, who’s purple eyes seemed to be glimmering in the light of the morning sun.
“What is it?”
The guard frowned – at what, you couldn’t possibly tell – before he shook his head and walked back toward the castle.
Just as you were about to question him, Lady Kanroji came running out from the palace doors and stopped before you.
“Oh, my princess! I’m so glad you’re alright!” she wailed, seemingly disturbed by the events of this morning.
“I’m fine, but I’ll need each and every one of the kitchen staff that was working last night to be interrogated.” 
Kanroji seemed confused, but nodded, deciding not to question your reasoning.
“In the meantime, your highness, would you like to visit your garden again? I know that it tends to calm you down quite a bit and right now you seem quite…frazzled.”
“Lady Kanroji, how quickly do flowers usually grow?”
“Your highness, at this point, I have no idea.”
She looked just as confused as you were – gazing upon your garden, which looked entirely different from what it looked like yesterday. Rather than hydrangeas and the occasional foxglove bush blooming, the entire garden had been infested with snapdragons.
“I was here just yesterday, was I not?” you asked rhetorically, and Kanroji nodded in affirmation.
“Yes, you were, my princess.”
You sighed, “I don’t understand – all I wanted was a few peaceful days before I am forced into an arranged marriage. Am I not allowed something as simple as that?”
“Many are not afforded things that may seem simple to others, my princess, perhaps this is how the universe so ordained these few days to unfold.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better about my circumstances, though.”
“Perhaps not, but we can always do our best to make the most of what we are dealt, even if the hand we are given is not the best.”
You listened to her as you looked around the garden, seeing how endless the lines of snapdragon flowers seemed to be, and, in a moment of firm resolve, you lifted up the bottom of your slip before setting your feet bare into the soil.
“What are you doing, your highness? You will dirty your clothing if you–”
“I’m making the most of the hand I’ve been dealt, Lady Kanroji,” you explained, before beginning to weed out the unwanted snapdragon flowers from their roots.
Kanroji smiled, before following suit and helping you in your task, ridding the garden of unwanted plants to restore it to its former glory.
It felt like hours since you first arrived to your garden, your night slip entirely dirtied, and your hands caked with soil. The sun beat down on both of you, causing sweat to drip down your face as you smeared it away with your dirtied hands.
A crow flew down and landed in the garden next to you, poking its beak at the bundle of snapdragons that you’d picked out of the soil, you waved at it in order to shoo it away – but to no avail.
“I thought that there were no fauna left in the kingdom,” you mused, and Kanroji giggled softly.
“Apparently this little one didn’t quite catch the memo,” she smiled, causing you to chuckle.
However, another crow flew down a few minutes later, and then another – until there was nearly a flock of crows that surrounded each of you. 
“Lady Kanroji–?” you asked, concern lacing your tone as you looked around, with what seemed to be every single crow staring directly at you, as though you were nothing but prey to them.
It started off with one crow – which flew toward you and started picking at your night slip with its beak. You tried shooing it off, but doing so only invited another crow, and another, and another to do the same.
“Stop! What– stop!” you screamed as the crows continued tearing at your slip, leaving holes and cuts all throughout the thin cloth. You knelt to the ground, curling yourself into a tight ball as the crows hovered closely above you.
Until finally, the torment ceased.
Standing up, you looked around to see them flying away, before looking back at your assistant who seemed absolutely horrified by what just occurred. 
“Your highness–”
“Don’t. Say. A word,” you seethed, tears starting to brim your eyes before you rushed back to your chambers, Kanroji following closely behind you.
Sanemi’s POV
A yell of frustration could be heard from your chambers, causing a silent snicker to pass through his lips. 
He couldn’t help that he loved messing with you: you were the perfect prey for someone like him. Someone in a place of authority who needed to be knocked down a few pegs; a bratty princess who wanted everything to go her way – regardless of if it hurt those around her or not. 
Not only that, but the noises you made were music to his ears – how you’d groan and grumble and scream – all because of him. 
He was the one who was causing you all this grief.
And he loved it.
Unfortunately, it seemed that missing clothes and cooking ingredients were just not enough to make you absolutely lose your sense of control. 
“Kanroji!” you yelled from your chambers, causing his ears to perk up. You always had your poor assistant help you out, he realized, it was only ever a matter of time before her name could be heard from your lips. 
It pissed him off, really, that assistant of yours – she would always be there to step in and help you, no matter how terrible your behavior was. 
However, it seemed today that your assistant was nowhere to be found, and so he had the privilege of reveling in your annoyed grumbles for that much longer.
After what seemed to be about half of an hour, your chamber doors finally opened.
He decided that your expression must’ve been priceless, so he took the shape of a female guard and walked down towards your chamber doors.
However, he couldn’t stop his mouth from falling agape upon seeing you.
Your dress – which he intentionally shrunk down a size, caused your tits to spill out from the top of it. Not only that, but your skirt only went down to your mid-thigh, and he could only imagine what a sight it would be if you bent over to pick something up. 
He was frozen – he hated you, hated authority. He despised how you thought that you were simply better than everyone else – that it was somehow your birthright to be above everyone else.
So, why was he awestruck by the sudden beauty that was before him?
You turned your head to him – or, the female guard that he was disguised as – and gave him a nasty glare.
“The hell are you looking at?” you asked.
If there were a higher power, Sanemi would’ve thanked them a hundred times over for the fact that his shapeshifting ability could hide the hardening bulge in his pants.
After a moment, he managed to find his voice – and thankfully he remembered to make it fit the character he was playing as.
“Apologies, princess, did you need help with anything?”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed before marching away from him, and he couldn’t help but smirk as your figure turned down another long corridor.
Out of all the people he’s fucked with, you were definitely his favorite.
“Shit, princess, got me so fuckin’ worked up over nothing, didn’t ya?” Sanemi muttered under his breath as he fisted his stiff cock, not even bothering to start slowly as he fucked his hand with each unrelenting stroke.
The precum seeped out from his tip, allowing his hand to glide even faster along his thick length; he was harsh with it, the muscles in his forearm nearly burning at the pace of his movements. 
Sanemi snuck into your room after you left – having now memorized your daily schedule, he didn’t need to worry about you catching him in the act. It would be at least an hour before you returned to your chambers, giving him plenty of time to cum before then.
He laid upon your bed – the mattress softer than anything he ever had the luxury of experiencing before – as he stroked himself to the thought of ruining you.
He wondered if the plush of your skin would be even softer.
Gods, how he would love to trace his roughened hands along your delicate body, squeezing your tits, groping your ass.
You could stand to have a bit of punishment too, he thought before envisioning how he’d have you on your hands and knees, smacking your ass until it was red and sore.
Or maybe humiliation would be better?
He groaned as he thrust up into his hand as he thought of all the ways he could ruin your status, humiliating you in front of hundreds – no, thousands – of your subjects.
Maybe he could take it a step further than he usually would this time – oh, how he’d love to ruin you until you were nothing more than a needy slut for his cock.
“Fuck–” he grunted, before turning his head to the side, where he eyed a pair of your discarded panties in the corner of your room.
“Fuckin’ brat never learns to clean up after herself,” he muttered, climbing out of your bed to go pick them up.
Lucky me, he thought, bringing your panties up to his nose and inhaling deeply, his knees nearly buckling.
Somehow, the head of his cock turned an even angrier shade of red after breathing in your scent, with his length getting so stiff that it almost hurt.
“Fuck– princess,” he groaned, “smell so fuckin’ good,” he added, walking back to your bed before inhaling more of your musk, hips bucking involuntarily into his hand – his cock getting impossibly harder as he fucked himself to the thought of you. 
“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum like this, you fuckin’ brat.” 
His abdomen tensed as his seed shot out from his reddened tip, spilling it all over his hand and lower stomach. He hissed as he continued to stroke himself through his orgasm before pulling his hand back and letting it fall against the mattress, panting heavily.
“Are you sure you don’t have any spare clothes that fit, my princess?”
Sanemi’s eyes shot open, hearing your assistant’s voice from outside the door.
“Yes, I checked every single one and they’re all too tight! I’ve had difficulty breathing all morning because of this stupid outfit!”
You shouldn’t be back yet, he thought, but then again he did disrupt your morning for the third time this week – perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised.
He shot up from your bed, quickly stripping it as well as gathering any dirty clothing you had lying around before transforming himself into a maid.
The door opened, and Sanemi had to hold back a grin when he saw how frustrated you were, his cock starting to harden once more upon seeing your face contorted into a pout.
“Why are you here?” you asked him, before your assistant put a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Leave her be, my princess, she’s just doing her job.”
Sanemi nodded to her and took the linen that he had gathered out of your chambers, leaving you and your assistant alone for the time being.
By the time he was out of sight, he snapped his fingers – causing the linen to disappear completely.
It’s not like you’d care about missing some bedsheets for a while, right?
Y/N’s POV
You awoke the next day to the smell of smoke.
You weren’t able to sleep much anyway — namely due to being limited to a simple blanket as you laid on your bare mattress — all because the maid who took your sheets didn’t bother to communicate with anyone else that your bed would need to be made before you retired for the night.
After dipping in and out of sleep, tossing and turning in your freezing room, the sun had finally started to rise, and, although you usually never awoke before it was at least halfway up in the sky, today your sense of grogginess was replaced by complete alarm.
Was the castle burning?
You ran to the doors of your chamber, your already too-tight night slip nearly causing you to trip as you reached for its handle.
Cold.
You slowly opened the door, and the absence of flames relieved you.
Only thinking of yourself, you carefully made your way down staircases and through corridors – the smoke only becoming more intense the further down you went.
Perhaps a kitchen fire?
Yet, as you found your way to the castle entrance, you started to realize that the smoke had been coming from outside rather than in the castle.
Careful to not show your face through any windows – in order to protect yourself from being targeted by any potential enemies or rioters outside – you listened for voices and yelling to determine if the castle was under siege.
But, other than the distant crackling of flames, the night was silent.
Exhaling your fear, you gained enough courage to peek through one of the windows. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you thought to go outside so you could locate the source of the smoke.
The castle door creaked open, and a plume of smoke entered through the doorway, resulting in a series of coughs which erupted from your throat. The grass you were on was dry as you walked further, the blades poking at the soles of your feet with each step.
You saw the orange glow of the flames in the distance, and, by the time you got close enough to see what was burning, your blood ran cold.
Your garden.
The entire area had been engulfed in flames – the plants reduced to cinders and ash. 
Tears ran down your cheeks as you watched the only place you felt true peace burn to the ground, the fire growing in size until reaching a crescendo of roaring crackles as it burned every remaining piece of your soul, unrelenting until the fire decided to quell itself, returning the borrowed flames to the sun as it rose above the horizon.
Until what remained was nothing but char and dirt.
You sat there for what felt like hours, sitting silently as your eyes reddened – from the smoke or from crying, one wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Your highness…” you heard a soft voice behind you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around.
The gentle, reassuring hand of your lady-in-waiting laid upon your shoulder once more – just as it had many times this past week. It was her way of consoling you, no matter how horrible things were.
“I’m so sorry,” was all she could offer, squeezing your shoulder as you gazed upon your garden – or what was left of it – in silence.
“Thank you, Mitsuri – but this isn’t your fault.”
Your friend sat down beside you, rubbing your back as you two watched the remaining embers flicker in and out of existence.
Until there was nothing else left for you to have.
Sanemi’s POV
Sanemi was smug – surely a fire would get your attention, would it not?
It was his last resort, but you had just been so awfully bratty and hostile to those around you.
He couldn’t just stand by the sidelines and let that happen, right?
The afternoon was eerily quiet, he hadn’t heard you yell for your assistant once today. Once you got back from your silly little playground, you locked yourself up in your room, not opening up for anyone.
So, that evening, he took on the form of that one maid again, and stole a skeleton key from one of the royal staff.
“Princess? May I come in?” He knocked on your door, and, after hearing no response, decided to unlock it, knocking once more as he entered.
You were sitting on your bed, staring into nothing, your hands lay silent in your lap.
“Princess?”
“What do you want?” you nearly whispered, as though the room around you might shatter into pieces should you speak any louder.
“Er–” Sanemi quickly skimmed through your daily schedule – something he had memorized every detail of – in order to come up with some excuse for interrupting your time alone.
However, he did not have time to answer, as you stood up and held your arms out from your sides – your expression flat and emotionless as your eyes remained fixed on the ground before you.
“Apologies, that was a stupid question,” you continued, your tone almost dejected before looking up at the maid before you, “It’s time for my bath, isn’t that right?” 
“Yes– yes, princess, of course,” Sanemi stuttered.
You simply stared, before speaking up, “well? Are you going to undress me or not?”
Sanemi’s ears flushed a bright red, but did indeed walk behind you – not wishing to reveal himself as an imposter by acting strange – and started to lift up your night slip, the very one you hadn’t changed out of since last night.
You smelled of burning ash, which wasn’t much of a surprise to him – but he didn’t expect you to withstand the smoke for so long, just to stare at the flames that he created.
He removed your night slip, using all of his willpower to not stare down at you while you were indecent.
“Take me to my bath, please,” you requested silently, and, to much of his surprise, he obeyed without a second thought.
He took your hand, leading you to your bathroom, where he simultaneously filled up your tub with warm water with the slight wave of his hand – as though it had been prepared for you all along, as though he knew this would be what he was getting into as he entered your room – your home.
You sat down in the clear water, ash ebbing off of you in ripples as water gently sloshed around you. He reached for a nearby cloth, and lathered it in soap, before rubbing it up and down your back, bubbles forming with each swipe of the cloth. 
You remained oddly silent, letting him wash you as he pleased – of course, you didn’t know it was him. 
He doubted you’d let him be within ten feet of you if he wasn’t acting as someone else.
Yet, when he went to clean your shoulders, he placed his false, dainty hand upon your shoulder, and you sniffled.
You were crying.
“Princess?” he asked cautiously.
You brought your hands up to your face, hiding yourself from the maid that washed you.
“What is happening to me?” you sobbed silently, breaths shaky as you inhaled, “My last few days have been horrible, and today was just— my garden is gone.”
Normally, Sanemi would feel a spark of pride upon hearing that he got under his victim’s skin, but now, he felt nothing but pure guilt.
Had he gone too far?
“Perhaps I’ve been cursed,” you whispered, “all I wanted was to live my last few days before I'm married in peace. I’m to be wed to someone that I don’t know the first thing about, to be silent and obedient, adhering to my husband’s every wish.”
He remained silent, unsure of what to say – he had been the cause of your suffering, at least in the short-term. This marriage of yours seemed unavoidable, something you’d have to endure for god knows how long.
He turned your face by your chin, gently pressing the washcloth to your cheeks, wiping away soot and tears with a few simple strokes. 
“I don’t even know what I did wrong, it all feels so– so unjust,” you confessed.
Had Sanemi not had centuries upon centuries to learn keeping up facades, he would have given himself away right then and there. In a mere second, you managed to replace the guilt that festered within his heart with pure rage.
How blind were you?
He said nothing as he finished washing you up, being careful to not scrub harshly at your skin despite his anger and hatred, and then toweled you up by the time he had finished. 
“Good night, princess,” he uttered before leaving you to dry yourself, resolving to not take a single glance back as you looked at him – or, looked at the maid – in pure confusion and hurt.
Y/N’s POV
“My princess,” Mitsuri whispered as she woke you up, “you slept for so long – it’s about time to get ready for the ball tonight.”
Your eyes shot open, anxiety spiking in your chest, “already?”
Mitsuri nodded, eyes softening in concern for you.
Fuck.
Mitsuri brought in a champagne colored dress which had been specially designed for you – taking all of your measurements into consideration, as well as a white mask with gold lining, and white feathers which were reminiscent of a swan. 
Mitsuri helped lace up the dress, which, unlike the rest of your outfits, thankfully fit quite well. She then placed the mask on your face, before taking your hand and gently leading you down to the great hall – where the festivities would soon begin.
Upon opening the doors, it became difficult to breathe, with people clustered together, voices clashing together as conversations carried through the hall. There was some dancing, yet those who were taking their chances on the ballroom floor seemed rather clumsy and uncoordinated in their steps, while those who were on the sidelines speaking with relatives and strangers alike sampled foods from trays that disappeared and reappeared along with the waiters that weaved haphazardly through the hall. 
You walked toward the front of the room, picking up your dress so as to not trip on the ornate staircase which led up to where your father – and King – waited for you.
“You look quite beautiful, my child, I hope you will be able to enjoy tonight’s celebrations,” he beamed, and you nodded in response.
“Are there any plans you have for me, father?”
“I do have a few princes I’d like for you to meet – namely those from the Agatsuma, Iguro, and Rengoku bloodlines. They all show promise – perhaps some more than others – of being benevolent rulers.”
As though prompted, a blonde man walked up the stairs toward you and your father, his hand shaky as he extended it toward you. Otherwise, there were no particular qualities of his that stood out to you. You looked at him expectantly, awaiting some sort of introduction.
“Y-your highness! May– may I please have your first dance of the night?” the man before you sputtered, and it took everything within you to properly school your expression so that your father wouldn’t scold you for poor behavior.
“May I know who I have the pleasure of dancing with?” you managed to ask the blonde, who seemed as though he would keel over and faint at just about any moment.
“Oh– I’m Zenitsu Agastuma, sorry–” he introduced himself, bowing before you.
Reluctantly, you curtseyed back, before placing your hand in his, grimacing at the clamminess of his skin. 
He placed his other hand on top of yours, “Thank you! I promise you won’t regret this!”
He took you down to the floor, muttering brief apologies to every person you two passed by. By the time you two the center of the great hall, he took one of your hands and placed it on his left shoulder blade, before taking his right hand in your left.
“Are you expecting me to lead?” you asked, and his face went bright red.
“If that’s alright with you, my lovely princess, and– if we could just do a simple box step, perhaps? I– I’m not too good with dancing,” he said sheepishly.
You sighed, deciding to take the lead in a box step, with him following each of your movements, until he tripped over your shoes.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he exclaimed, obviously nervous, his movements short and jittery with each subsequent step.
You sighed, but then he tripped over your feet again, and again, muttering out apology after apology each time.
By the time the song had finished, you’d had enough of him and walked him off of the dance floor.
“Wait– please! Give me another chance! I– I promise I’d be a good husband, please!” he babbled, tears flowing down past his mask and down his cheeks. You forced him off of you, shaking your hand so he’d let go.
You went to sit down next to your father, who seemed to be chuckling in amusement.
“Are you laughing at me, father?” you asked, your tone tense after what humiliation the blonde had caused you in front of your subjects.
“No, no– I promise I’m not,” he smiled, before summoning the next prince that he’d mentioned – a rather short man with black hair. Through his mask, you could see that his eyes were quite beautiful – being two separate colors.
Yet, his eyes were elsewhere, staring longingly at your friend, Mitsuri, rather than you.
“Erm– hello, may I ask for your name?” you asked the man.
“Hmm? I’m not interested,” he said curtly, “I decline the opportunity to dance with you, princess.”
Your mouth hung open, absolutely offended by the man before you.
“Are you absolutely sure, Prince Iguro?” your father questioned, and the prince nodded in affirmation.
“Yes, please honor my choice, your highness.”
Your father sighed, dismissing him and the prince quickly found his way to Mitsuri, who started blushing up a storm as soon as he started speaking with her.
At least one of us will have a chance at finding love tonight, you thought.
The last prince whom your father mentioned was summoned next, a young man who seemed rather jovial and filled with vigor, with hair that resembled that of flames themselves and eyes that were reminiscent of crackling embers.
“Your highness, would you be so kind and allow me to dance with you?” he smiled, a grin that was infectious as it caused you to return your own.
“Of course,” you happily responded.
He took your hand, kissing your knuckles before leading you back to the center of the ballroom, placing a hand on your left shoulder and leading you into the dance.
“I hope that this evening has fared well for you so far, my dear princess,” he said, twirling you around.
It was comforting – he was comforting. He provided you with air where you felt you could not breathe.
“It is going much better now that I am here with you, dear prince,” you smiled, “may I ask for your name?”
“Kyojuro Rengoku,” he answered, before leaning you into a dip and bringing you back upright, guiding you into another step, and another.
He was incredibly smooth with his movements – all until a waiter accidentally bumped into him, spilling wine down the back of his suit.
“My prince! I’m so, so sorry–” the waiter apologized, trying to clean up his suit with a spare cloth.
Kyojuro simply laughed it off, “it’s quite alright, dear waiter,” before turning to you, whispering “I’ll go get changed, and then I’ll be back for you, alright, my dear princess?”
You felt a warmth creep up your cheeks before nodding, seeing him give you a quick wink before he was off.
Your observing of the kind prince was interrupted by a gentle touch to your shoulder. Thinking it was Mitsuri, you turned around with a smile on your face, which quickly faded into one of confusion upon seeing the person in front of you.
“Hello, princess, may I have your next dance?”
The man before you was about as tall as Kyojuro, with white hair that seemed untamable. A man who displayed scars in every place of exposed skin, his raven mask unable to fully conceal the ones on his face.
Perhaps he was a royal knight of some sort?
“And who are you, may I ask?” you inquired, and a small smirk stretched along his lips.
“Sanemi, dear princess, my name is Sanemi.”
He extended his hand, which you observed had a similar scar to the one you thought Mitsuri had just a few nights ago.
Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his – immediately noting the warmth and roughness of his skin – as though he’d spent years working with them. His grip was firm, but not harsh – indicating knowledge of his own strength. 
His right hand slid down to the small of your back, finding its purchase just above your hip – not daring to go lower. He led you into a similar waltz that Kyojuro placed you in, yet, this one somehow felt more…intimate.
“Sanemi,” you started, rolling his name along the tip of your tongue, “do you not possess a last name? Or are you perhaps a scoundrel with a tarnished reputation?” you teased, each step between the two of you smooth, almost calculated as he led you through the ballroom.
“Do you believe you have earned my last name, princess?” he whispered hotly, to which you felt heat prickle along your face. 
He chuckled, “apparently not. But–” he led you into a quick spin, before pulling you close once more, “if you get to know me well enough, perhaps I’d be so willing to indulge in your curiosity.”
“Get to know you? Is that supposed to be some sort of challenge?”
“If that is how you perceive it,” he responded vaguely.
Curious, you were – the man before you hauntingly beautiful, the smoothness of his voice and his mystery, combined with his confidence made it difficult to believe he wasn’t of royal blood..
He’d definitely be fit as a King, you thought.
“What, may I ask, is your occupation then, Sanemi?” you asked, wishing to glean more information from the masked man.
“I’ve done quite a few things in my life, and I’d say that I'm competent in all that I do, princess.”
“A jack of all trades is a master of none, you should know,” you challenged.
“Ah, but oftentimes better than a master of one,” he continued, leaning closely into you, his breath gracing your ear, “and trust me darling, I’m a master of all of my works.”
Your face heated up at his claim, thanking the fact that he’d led you into a spin, so you could somewhat hide your embarrassment.
“Is that so? Then I think you’d have to show me one day, Sanemi.”
“Who’s to say that I haven’t already?” he avowed, his violet eyes sparkling behind his mask with knowledge unknown to you.
“What do you mean?” you inquired, side-stepping before he leaned you into a dip, his eyes looking directly into yours as he leaned closely into you.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, dear princess, I promise you’ll find out soon enough.”
As he brought you back upright, he parted from you, before taking your hand and kissing your knuckles – just as the prince before him did.
With his other hand, seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out an orange lily, and placed it into the hand that he kissed.
“I found this growing on the outskirts of your garden just yesterday. Such a shame the beautiful thing burned down.”
Speechless, you took the lily from him.
“Your condolences are appreciated.” You brought the lily up to your nose to take in its scent, before smiling at him and curtseying. “Thank you for the flower, and the dance, Sanemi, I’ll do well to remember you.”
“Father, please, I implore you to tell me who you have decided upon,” you begged, having waited impatiently until a majority of guests had exited the palace and gone home. Maids and servants proceeded with cleaning up the hall quickly after most of the festivities died down, and by now, most tables had chairs overturned on top of them, and mops could be found in use scattered throughout the ballroom floor. 
“My dear child, I am not able to give you an answer as you so wish. My advisors and I will need to convene and discuss our thoughts on what marriage would prove best for our kingdom.”
“Well, if you’d let me, I’d hope that you’d keep in mind that prince from the Ren–”
“My dear, as much as I’d love to take into consideration your opinion, this is a matter of kingdom survival, and thus my advisor’s opinions will have much more weight than my own child’s.”
Your mouth fell slightly agape, “but, didn’t you promise that you’d take into consideration the prince I got along most kindly with?”
“I did, my dear, but I have decided to rescind that statement. After your rather childish tantrum you displayed in front of me and my advisors, I came to the realization that you are not mature enough to make decisions that take more than just yourself into consideration.”
“But–”
“Child, indeed it is a most regrettable decision, but if I am to keep the kingdom’s interests in mind, then I will do what I believe is best.”
Tears of anger brimmed in your eyes as you once again stormed away from your father, exiting through the rather large doors at the end of the great hall and marching through them. You raced toward your chambers, where you wished to sob into your pillow until the morning came.
“Your father is right, you know,” a low voice spoke from one of the more darkened corridors as you passed by, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.
Looking around, you saw no one – you were alone, and yet, somewhere, someone was speaking to you.
Not only that, but they’d also listened in on the conversation you’d had with your father.
You peeked down one corridor, trying to make out a figure in the shadows, when you were suddenly pushed into the stone wall, a hand reaching around your mouth as a body held you in place.
“Don’t. Scream.”
A muffled cry came out of your throat, which prompted the assailant to point a cold, metal blade to your throat.
“The hell did I just fuckin’ tell you, sweetheart?”
Your breathing became rapid, panic ensuing as the knife trailed down your throat – just gentle enough so as to not draw any blood.
“Y’know, princess, I’ve been tryin’ to get you to see your wrongdoings this entire fuckin’ week,” the stranger started, “but you just don’t fuckin’ learn, do ya?”
Your eyes widened as you realized this person had been responsible for everything.
Including your garden.
In a fit of rage, you tried biting your assailant's hand, to which he simply moved it to constrict lightly around your throat.
“Oho–! Do we have a biter here, sweet thing? And to think that I always thought your bark was worse…”
“You bastard, let me go! I’ll have your fuckin’ head for this!”
“Oh sweetheart, you’ll definitely have my head, but not in the way you seem to think. Y’see, I’ve been tryin’ so fuckin’ hard to get you to understand how pretentious you are, how much of a snob you are, and, frankly, I’ve run out of ideas, princess.”
He turned your face towards him, making you realize it was the same person who’d danced with you at the ball – the man with the scars, the white, unruly hair, and his strikingly violet eyes.
“Sanemi?” you asked, even though in your heart you knew it was him.
Sanemi grinned, “ah, so you do have a brain up there in that pretty little head of yours,” he sneered at you, “then maybe this last little lesson I give you will be the one that finally sticks.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” you hissed, and Sanemi chuckled as you struggled against him.
“Oh, princess, have you not realized what I’m gonna do yet?” he cooed mockingly, “I’m gonna fuck the brattiness out of you, sweetheart.”
A small gasp left your lips at his assertion, yet, you couldn’t help the feeling of heat spreading both across your cheeks, as well as the kindling of flames within your lower stomach.
You were to be forcefully married, to live a life of servitude to your husband – who will be pronounced King once your father passes, to endure a loveless marriage – with tolerance of your significant other being the most you could possibly hope for. 
You could have a little fun before all that, couldn’t you?
Sanemi darkly chucked behind you, “I can smell your arousal, sweet thing, you really do want this, don’t ya?”
The man threw the knife to the ground before licking a stripe up your neck and leaving bites across the expanse of your skin, starting with your earlobe and working his way down to your shoulder, teeth sharp as they grazed along your body.
You shivered, embarrassment flooding your veins at how you reacted to his touch – you shouldn’t want this, you were a princess, a proper lady who knew that doing such acts before marriage was scandalous.
But, did you truly care about your marriage?
With each brush of his roughened hands against your skin, the consequences that threatened your wishes of this continuing faded further and further.
Sanemi worked his hands to the center of your back, his fingers deftly untying the lace of your dress – as though he had experience in such skills before this.
“Such a fuckin’ slut, wishing for me to take you before you’re married – what would your father think?” he asked mockingly as he pushed your dress down, revealing your breasts to him.
“Oh– that’s right, you don’t care much of what he– or anyone– thinks, do you?” he answered his own question, before leaning down and pursing his lips around one of your nipples, sucking harshly at your tits, earning a soft gasp from you as your face contorted at the sensation. His tongue laved against the softness of your skin, before biting down – making you let out a sharp hiss before bringing your hand up to his hair and tugging at it.
He looked up at you, hate and lust evident in his eyes as he pulled off of you with a lewd pop, and, just before you thought he would move on to the other tit and perform the same actions, he instead raised his hand and gave a sudden, hard slap to your breast.
“Ah–!” you gasped, evoking a laugh from him.
“Oh, do you like pain, brat?” he taunted, causing you to flush intensely across your cheeks as he landed another slap to your other tit, to which you let out another, shorter gasp from you.
“Answer the question, slut.”
Whimpering, you slowly nodded, and he grinned before roughly grabbing at your tits, rolling your nipples in between his fingers.
“Then get on your knees f’ me.”
You looked at him as though he were crazy, but, with one last slap to your tits, you quickly complied, lowering yourself to the ground.
“Isn’t this a sweet sight?” Sanemi chuckled, “a princess kneeling before someone else – how cute.”
Humiliation seeped into your veins as you looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes with  your own, until he forced your chin up, and– after a small wave of his hand, you felt someone else pushing you down onto all fours. Flinching at the contact, you quickly turned your head around to see another Sanemi staring back at you – fully naked and littered with scars.
“What–” you started, before the second Sanemi started to rip your dress off of you – ruining it beyond repair.
“Oh, are you surprised, princess?” the original Sanemi asked, “how did you think all of the shit that happened to you this past week came about?”
Before you could answer, a rough smack landed on your ass, the strength of it causing you to be pushed forward as you whined at the stinging pain that Sanemi’s hand left behind.
“That’s one, brat, I think you could stand to handle a bit more, can’t you?” the Sanemi in front of you decided before taking his cock out of his pants as the one behind you dealt a smack to your other asscheek. He started stroking his cock with his fist as his double continued his assault behind you.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet already,” muttered the one behind you, as you felt two fingers dip in between your folds – collecting your slick before landing another blow, “such a goddamn whore, aren’t ya? And all from being spanked? You’re fuckin’ filthy, princess.”
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
Tears were starting to escape your eyes – your ass starting to feel raw from the constant blows. The tears found their way down your cheeks before the Sanemi in front of you lifted your chin up with one hand, stroking his cock furiously with the other as he groaned at the sight in front of him.
“Fuck– I’ve wanted to ruin you all week, princess, make you nothing more than a whore for my cock – to turn you into a braindead fucktoy all for my pleasure.”
You whined at his confession, leaning forward a little in an attempt to catch his lips with yours before he pulled away from you, leaving you feeling unfulfilled before his clone landed a harsh slap to your pussy – causing you to yelp as the clone started to prod his fingers at your entrance.
“Please, more,” you begged.
“Hmmm, I don’t think you deserve more, princess,” Sanemi smirked, before closing the distance between you and his cock – the tip of which blushing a deep red as precum seeped out from it.
“Be a good girl for once and earn your pleasure.”
You hesitantly looked up at him, before reaching out your hand and delicately wrapping it around his thick cock. Sanemi hissed, not fully expecting how soft and plush your hand would feel when wrapped around him.
Starting out with some slow, gentle strokes, Sanemi started bucking slightly into your hand – not used to how languid and soft your movements were. You traced your thumb over his leaking slit, gathering his precum before moving back down his length.
The clone behind you finally pushed his fingers deeper into you, making you whine at the intrusion as he curled his fingers inside your wet heat, moving at about the same pace that you stroked the other one’s cock, repeatedly pressing into that one area that pulsed pleasure through your abdomen with each movement. You writhed in his hold, resulting in him using his other arm to keep your hips in place as he fucked you with his fingers.
“M-More,” you whimpered, closing your eyes at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, his tortuous pace and his hold on your hips forcing you to take only what he decided to give you – what he thought you deserved.
“Uh uh–” Sanemi tutted, grabbing your perfectly styled hair into his fist, pulling your head up toward him, “keep your eyes open, brat, you still gotta work on my cock, remember?”
You nodded, opening your eyes as you focused on stroking his cock, increasing the speed at which your hand glided along his length.
Sanemi’s fingers, too, picked up a faster pace, two of his clone’s thick digits pumping in and out of you, until the only sounds that could be heard were the slick of your hands working on each other and the soft grunts and moans coming from each of your throats.
Then, without warning, the clone decided to remove his fingers from your pussy. Whining, you tried pushing your hips back to receive more attention from him, only to let out a shaky moan when you felt his wet tongue travel along your slit.
“Fu–uh–ck” you shuddered as he lapped up your juices, his hands spreading along the meat of your ass, making you wince slightly from remnants of the earlier punishment you received.
“Shit, you taste so fuckin’ good,” the clone muttered as he licked a broad stripe up your cunt, “fuckin’ knew you would, princess, you always smelled so damn sweet.”
“H-Hah–?” you tried to conjure a response, which more so resembled that of a moan as it tumbled out between your lips.
“C’mon, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you stupid already, princess,” Sanemi chuckled, “just what do you think happened to all that clothing of yours? Especially your panties– god I couldn’t get enough of ‘em, your scent would linger for so damn long.”
An intense heat bloomed along your cheeks, realizing just exactly what he meant.
Sanemi’s clone groaned as he plunged his tongue into your heat, lapping up everything you gave him as he ate you out. You continued stroking the other’s thick length, bringing your lips to the tip of his cock, experimentally licking at his leaking slit. Sanemi’s grip on your hair tightened, encouraging you to keep going – to keep serving him.
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, a soft hum sending vibrations down his length as you reveled in the way his clone was sucking at your clit. Hollowing your cheeks, you started sucking at his bulbous head, using your tongue to lap up any precum that seeped out of his weeping slit. Sanemi pushed your head further down, impatient with you only giving attention to his reddened tip, which caused you to choke along his length as it entered the back of your throat, tears pooling around your eyes as your lips swollen lips took inch after inch of his thick cock.
“Fuck– that’s it, princess, just hold on a lil’ longer f’ me,” he grinned as he looked down at the mess you were quickly becoming, gagging around him like the good little slut you were, until he finally let you off of his cock, with you gasping for air.
Yet, his clone didn’t stop his assault on your cunt, switching between licking and sucking at your clit and feasting on the sweetness that came out of your wet heat. The original Sanemi put his hand underneath your chin once more, forcing you to look up at him as the tension in your stomach got tighter and tighter.
“God– so good,” you whined, relishing in how Sanemi’s tongue felt against your wet cunt, looking up at the one in front of you with the prettiest, watery eyes that he’d ever seen, eyes which begged him to let you cum.
Yet, just as the warmth in your stomach was about to spill over, the clone removed his mouth from your pussy, leaving you to clench around nothing as you whined and pouted at the one in front of you.
Both of them let out a light snicker, until the one holding your chin knelt down in front of you, grinning as he stared down at your pathetic form.
“Did you really think I’d let you cum so easily, little brat?” he inquired, the raspiness of his throat making his question all the more intimidating. You shook your head, knowing better than to argue or beg for what you wanted.
The Sanemi behind you gave a sharp slap to your pussy, causing you to yelp from how sensitive you were from the pleasure his tongue gave you only seconds before.
“Please– wan’ your cock, wan’ to cum around it,” you whined pathetically, trying to wiggle your hips as they were held in place by the clone behind you.
Sanemi’s eyes were wild as he smirked down at you, “Oh? You want my cock, princess? You want me to ruin you completely – make you a complete mess until you’re nothing but a hole for me to fill?”
You nodded quickly, eyes glossed over as he described what he could do to you. 
“Fine, just because you begged so sweetly for it – but you won’t be getting my cock, princess – not yet. You’ll have to make do with my double’s – think you can do that for me?”
“Yes– please, anything, plea–ah!”
Without warning, the clone behind you shoved himself balls deep inside of your hot cunt, breaking past the thin tissue near your opening and pushing deeper, until his tip nearly kissed your cervix.
Sanemi’s thrusts were rough, plunging into your heat fully with each strong push of his hips. His balls slapped against your clit, providing extra stimulation as he fucked himself into you, turning you into a whining, moaning mess.
The original Sanemi took in every expression and movement you made, relishing in how he was finally able to break you down into tiny little pieces. He grabbed his cock as his clone continued pumping into you, and started fisting himself at an equally fast pace.
“Look at yourself, princess, so fuckin’ pathetic, aren’t ya?” he grinned, “you’d always carry yourself like you were the most important person in the room – like no one else mattered but you, all because of your goddamn status.”
You whined in response, unable to verbalize anything as your mind softened with every single thrust of his cock; you were becoming malleable, your mind opening and wishing to be molded by him the more he fucked you.
“I reject all of that. You were never important – you’re nothing but a fuckin’ brat for me to tame, a slut who needs nothing but a cock to make her happy.”
He slapped your face with his cock, some of the release which seeped out from his tip managing to find itself on your cheeks before he began stroking himself at a furious pace once more. His other clone pounded himself into your cunt, the blunt head of it fucking that one spot inside of you which made your mind go blank.
He was right – you weren’t a princess, you weren’t someone with status or wealth or royal blood – you were nothing but a hole all this time for him to use and fill, a cumslut, a cocksleeve – all for the man in front of you.
How could you be so blind?
All you could do was moan, becoming more and more pathetic as his clone filled you with his cock, clenching around it and gripping his cock like a vice, your cunt sucking him back in every single time he pulled out.
But it wasn’t enough.
You needed – you craved the Sanemi in front of you. You needed him – not his clone, to take you, to truly beat you into submission like the dumb little brat you were.
“Please, please Sanemi– I need you,” you begged with the man in front of you, tears filling your eyes once more as you pleaded for him to fill you – to make you his.
The Sanemi in front of you said nothing before standing up to his full height as his clone removed his cock from you. The original Sanemi waved his hand yet again, this time allowing a cushioned mattress to appear in the small, dark corridor the two of you were in. 
The clone sat down on the mattress, before the original followed suit.
“Sit on my lap,” he demanded, and you obeyed immediately – thighs wrapping around his waist as he slipped his cock into you, to which your head fell to his shoulder as you let out what could only be described as a sigh of relief.
Sanemi gripped your hips, moving you up and down on his cock so you could get an understanding of what he wanted you to do, showing you exactly how he wanted you to bounce on his dick.
It wasn’t long before you grew enough confidence to perform the action by yourself, moving your hips up and down as you fucked yourself on his cock. Your arms found their way around his neck as you whimpered softly into his ear as you impaled yourself on him again and again – with no thoughts going through your mind other than the desire to make him feel good.
At some point, you noticed his clone behind you, a single digit nudging at the entrance of your asshole, pushing and prodding his finger gently so he could fully enter it inside of you. Heat prickled against your cheeks as you forced yourself to relax rather than tense at the unfamiliar contact – allowing the clone’s finger to work its way into your ass.
You continued to fuck yourself on Sanemi’s cock as one finger became two, opening you up further and further, before you felt a lubricant of some sort being conjured from the clone’s fingers, allowing him easier access to your hole as he continued fingering you.
“Relax f’ me, sweetheart,” the clone muttered as you whimpered in response, your movements slowing as you noticed his cock pressing against your ass – which had also been covered in lube – before slowly pushing into you.
You choked on a moan as you felt him stretch you out more than you thought possible, having fully stopped your movements in order to focus on accommodating his massive length inside of you.
Realizing this, Sanemi readjusted himself so that he was laying on his back, heels digging into the mattress before continuing to fuck into you. His clone got up on his knees before entering himself back into your tight hole, entering you when the other Sanemi pulled out – constantly being filled by either one of them without end.
“Fuckk,” you groaned, mind addled with pleasure as the two Sanemis kept filling you with their cocks, unrelenting in their thrusts as they bullied themselves deeper and deeper into your holes. You felt that same pressure building up in your abdomen again, becoming tighter and tighter with each plunge of their cocks.
“Please, ‘m gonna– ‘m gonna,” you begged Sanemi once more as your tears started to flow freely down your cheeks, pleading with him to let you cum.
“No. You’re gonna fuckin’ hold it. You don’t get to cum until I tell you to,” he answered, making you whine yet again at how unfair he was being.
They started fucking you even harder, thrusts unrelenting as they took turns filling you up. It took everything within you to not cum – to obey Sanemi’s command, shutting your eyes tightly as you tried focusing on anything other than how good they were making you feel.
Both Sanemi and his clone’s thrusts started to become sloppier, rutting into you as they both started to reach their own ends.
“I’m gonna cum in this fuckin’ pussy,” Sanemi growled, his voice raspy as he fucked into you, his cock starting to twitch as he neared orgasm, “gonna cum in my pussy, isn’t that right, brat?”
You nodded, “Please! Need your cum Sanemi, please cum inside me–!”
With one final stroke, both him and his clone released deep inside of you – flooding both of your holes with their hot ropes of cum.
“Fuck! Too– too much! Gonna– ah!”
You couldn’t help it– the feeling of them filling you up felt too good. Despite desperately wishing to obey Sanemi’s order, you ended up orgasming all over their cocks, gushing around them as warm ropes filled you up, with both of them groaning as you clenched and pulsed around them.
“Fuck–! ‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry!” you whined loudly as you came, hips betraying you as you attempted to prolong your euphoria by grinding down onto them.
After coming down from your high, you were met with a stormy glare from the man in front of you. 
Your eyes widened, knowing you’d fucked up.
“I’m so sorry, Sanemi, I didn’t mean to, I–”
Sanemi grabbed your face, his thick fingers pressing into either of your cheeks.
“What did I fuckin’ tell you?” he asked simply, and a fresh set of tears brimmed at your eyes.
“Y-You told me not to cum,” you answered meekly.
“That’s right, brat,” he responded, waving his free hand to dismiss his clone – making his double disappear completely as he pulled out of your pussy. You whined at the lack of something filling you up, your poor cunt clenching around nothing once more as Sanemi moved away from you.
“On your back, now.”
You obeyed, flipping onto your back and spreading your legs for him without a second thought. You fought the urge to rub your clit – knowing it wasn’t your place to provide yourself pleasure anymore, as you watched him place his cock right in front of your entrance.
“Please, ‘m sorry,” you pleaded as you watched him glide it up and down your sopping pussy, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock. His lilac eyes met yours once more as he finally lined himself up at your entrance.
“If you want to cum so bad, fine. I’ll make you cum until you can’t even fuckin’ think anymore.”
He pushed his cock inside of you, flicking at your clit with his thumb as he dragged his length against your slick walls, brushing against that one spot which made you see stars.
“Please, nngh– need it,” you sobbed as he relentlessly fucked into you, before he took one of his hands and pressed it down on your lower stomach.
“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll fuckin’ get it, brat–” he panted, “feel me? Feel my cock pressing all the way into your stomach?”
You nodded, eyes rolling back as he refused to let up, your orgasm building on itself again until it finally reached its peak once more.
“Fuck–!” you screamed as he fucked you through your orgasm, not letting up even as you came down from your high, denying you any break from the pleasure that he was giving you.
It wasn’t long before the next orgasm as Sanemi rubbed your clit at a similar speed to his thrusts, causing you to gush again around his cock. He groaned as your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for all he had – yet he didn’t stop, rather, he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you – denying his own release in order to fulfill his promise of overstimulating you.
At some point – you weren’t entirely sure when – Sanemi folded you in half, your legs reaching your shoulders as he slammed even deeper into your cunt, his cock brushing against your cervix with each stroke. Your mouth hung open, your voice emitting short, unrestrained moans as he continued his assault on your pussy – fully abusing it until it molded into the shape of his cock.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum, brat,” Sanemi grunted as his hips fell onto yours with every single stroke of his cock. You whimpered, wishing for nothing more than his cum to fill you up – to breed you like the whore you were. 
You responded with incoherent babbles, whining and moaning the more he rutted into your cunt, his thrusts getting sloppier as he approached his peak for a second time.
“Gonna fill you up, make you pregnant before you’re even– hah– even married,” he panted, a promise which made you clench around him even more, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, brat?”
“Y-Yes!” you managed to voice as he slammed himself deep inside you one final time, grunting as he filled you up – triggering your own final orgasm, causing you to milk him dry as he painted your walls white.
Sanemi collapsed to the side of you as the two of you regained your breath, staying like that for a few minutes before either of you spoke.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said awkwardly, “for ruining your garden in the way that I did.”
In response to your silence, he continued, “I had gone too far, I took something that you held dear to your heart away from you. I’m sorry.”
“I think I need to apologize as well,” you finally said, “not just to you, but to the others as well.”
Sanemi turned on his side, holding himself up by his elbow as he looked down at you, a slight grin on his face.
“You mean to tell me that fucking you was the solution to your brattiness this whole time? Not the crows or the dead cow–”
“Shut up!” you laughed as you smacked him in the chest, only causing him to grin more from your reaction.
“Am I wrong, princess?” he jokingly inquired, to which you hid your face from him with the palms of your hands – until he pushed your arms away, looking down at you with a triumphant smile on his face.
“You’re so stupid,” you half-heartedly spit at him, to which he put a hand to his chest in mock pain.
“You wound me, princess.”
You shook your head, scoffing as he got up, making the mattress beneath you disappear with a final wave of his hand, causing you to fall slightly onto the cold floor of the dark corridor.
“Are you going somewhere?” you asked him.
“I’m not exactly fond of castles, sweetheart, I can’t stand the pretentious atmosphere they tend to have.”
“So you’re leaving?” you further questioned, a little upset with the idea of not seeing him again.
“I am, but, if you are going to miss me so terribly, I could always sweep in and take you away from this wretched place, but I doubt you’d so easily leave your status and wealth behind.”
You remained silent, knowing that it would be near impossible for you to forsake all of which you knew and had for a simple, spontaneous desire to say yes, you would.
Sanemi smiled, his eyes soft as he gazed upon you – what was once hatred now replaced with something rather unfamiliar before vanishing before your very eyes, leaving you to stare at the emptiness of the corridor that you were in – having become alone once again.
Sighing, you stood up, gathering yourself – realizing that your once torn dress had been somehow completely repaired – as though it were entirely new.
With a little bit of difficulty, you managed to put your dress back on before heading back to your chambers, the unease of being married the following day looming over your mind once again.
The chirping of birds could be heard from your window once more, and, out of pure curiosity, you decided to peek out from your window to gaze out upon what was left of your garden. Yet, instead of seeing nothing but scorched soil, you managed to spot the blooming of a new plant – one which had not previously grown in your garden at all.
Rain lilies.
Perhaps, you thought, I should go down there and nurture them myself.
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Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @pastelbluecloudy3, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @llearlert, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @roronoagem, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701, @whatthefucksatan, @peachdues, @xxsabitoxx (If your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you. Apologies for the inconvenience.)
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I hope y'all enjoyed :)
610 notes · View notes
critical-quoter · 6 months
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Where do men find it in themselves to do such monstrous things? How do they find it acceptable?
The Assassin's Blade - Sarah J. Maas
35 notes · View notes
hunnylagoon · 4 months
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Birthday Girl
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A/N This is my first tumblr fic. I’m a retired Wattpad warrior, I only wrote this bc the Ellie tag is over diluted by smut, we need some angst and fluff to balance it out. My credentials are that I used to write Game of Thrones fanfic and I was blocked by Noah Beck on Twitter. Apologies in advance for any spelling errors or confusing sentences, bc I was high off my ass when I wrote this.
Summary
Jackson’s resident Baker works herself tirelessly to take care of everyone on their birthday and ensure they get something nice to brighten their special day but who is there to take care of her?
Birthdays are like brilliant gems in the kaleidoscope of time; they are the times when life's symphony crescendos into a celebration of its children. As the sun circles the earth once a year, we are given a day to celebrate our own journey, a day that whispers stories of victories, laughter, and the sweet notes of resiliency. You had always loved birthdays, who didn't? The look of joy on someone's face when they open a  gift you spent weeks looking for, the uncontrollable smile and pure serotonin that took over even the grumpiest of people. Everyone had a special day designated to them, of course, it was a cause to celebrate. 
You worked in the town bakery with very few other people, from five am to twelve pm on Monday to Friday every single week you were hustling around in a humid bakery, hell, you ran it like the navy.  Every morning, walking into the bakery is like stepping into a fragrant paradise where time seems to slow down to the sound of ovens buzzing to life. The first two hours were just for you before you let anyone in, The comforting routine of donning a flour-dusted apron and tying back unruly hair precedes the artistry of crafting pastries and breads. The almost therapeutic rhythm of kneading, rolling, and shaping becomes second nature: the soft crack of eggs, the calculated pour of sugar, and the clouds of flour hovering in midair. 
There wasn't much creative freedom while working in the Jackson bakery, it really just consisted of making dozens of bread loaves daily and then carting them over to the 'Barbecue Place' Which was once a restaurant though it had been refashioned into Jackson's mess hall.  However, you were able to dabble in some fun and were able to make cupcakes daily and a large batch of miscellaneous pastries every Friday. The cupcakes were very dear to you, you had to beg Maria when you were thirteen to approve the idea and eventually, you were green-lit.
As you step into the bakery you are greeted by the creek of wooden planks which are a testament to decades of busy activity; the dance of innumerable bakers has worn away at their shiny surfaces. The aroma of baked goods still hovers in the air from the previous day and all the days that came before, taking you to a more peaceful time. Sunlight streams through old lace curtains, illuminating worn, mismatched tables and chairs that have served eager clients for centuries though they no longer serve guests in the bakery. Deeply patinated wooden shelves support a variety of ceramic jars, each containing a treasure trove of hidden ingredients. Fading photos and yellowed newspaper clippings decorate the walls, telling the story of the bakery's illustrious past. There are copper pots and pans strung like time capsules on strong hooks, and an old-fashioned cash register sits on the end of the counter past the empty glass displays, it no longer serves a purpose but you have fought bravely to keep it around as it makes you think of what life had been like before the world fell apart. 
You look at a beat-up calendar on the walls, sitting in the place of an old picture frame that had been knocked down and shattered by none other than yourself when you were fourteen and had the bright idea of having you and your friend toss a bag of flour at each other to see who was strong enough to last longer in the odd game of catch. Surely, Ellie threw the five-pound bag a little too hard, you ducked to save yourself but it smashed into the framed photo of the family who ran the bakery before the apocalypse. It not only was smashed into little fragments but the bag of flour exploded and covered the dining room of the bakery as well as yourself in white powder, it looked like it had snowed inside. The calendar you were checking held the birthday of every person in Jackson, it was messy and hard to read as you usually had to cram several birthdays into a single day which was only a small square, it was hardly legible, there was almost no one else who could read it. Every day when you walked into the bakery, the first thing you did was check the calendar to find out whose birthday it was, then you began your bread dough or carried on with the sourdough started the day before, while the dough rose, you made cake batter, adjusting the recipe according to how many you had to make. After finishing work for the day or sometimes when you were midway through it, you would give each person a cupcake to celebrate their special day.
Even if no one else remembered their birthday, you were always there to make it a little bit better.
Today there were two birthdays on the calendar, Sean Casey, a man who was turning sixty. The second birthday marked down in the little square was yours. 
That's what made that day so special, you were ecstatic to see what your friends had planned for you later. Last year Ellie promised that she would go above and beyond for your next birthday and you were going to hold her to that. There was already a nice start to your morning by having your dad wake you up with breakfast in bed which you found truly impressive as he usually slept in till at least ten, on top of that he had scavenged a stand mixer for the home. You grabbed your apron off of the hook putting it over your neck and tying it tight around your waist. Everyone had a couple of designated aprons to rotate through throughout the week, yours consisted of two plain white ones, a red gingham pattern, one of forest green, and another made of a fabric covered in hyacinth flowers, their colours diluted like paint. Today you wore the apron your father gave you last year on your birthday, it was your favourite colour and the neckline was embroidered to say '(y/n)s kitchen'. You could tell your dad did the embroidery himself, the stitches were loose and uneven in some areas while being extremely tight in others, that's why you loved it so much, it was the thought and care behind it.
With a gentle hand, you pulled each of your necessary ingredients along with equipment out to begin your day. You preheat the ovens and in the quiet pre-dawn hours, the bakery comes alive with the hushed sounds of industrial mixers. The heady scent of freshly milled flour dances in the air as you measure the precise alchemy of ingredients, your hands moving with practiced grace. Kneading the dough becomes repetitive, muscles working in harmony to transform a mound of humble ingredients into a soft elastic texture. As the dough rests and rises, the anticipation builds—the promise of crusty loaves and soft, pillowy interiors. You slipped the pans of dough into the industrial ovens, the heat attacking you the second you opened the door; making sure to place the pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, brioche and wheat loaves all sorted on different racks in the respective ovens.
By the time you put the loaves in ovens it had been two hours from when you began, even with preparation the day before and dough starters, it was a process. You quickly washed your hands before unlocking the door for Juno as well as anyone who wanted to come in to visit. 
The clock read '7:09', because of the passthrough you were still able to look outside via the glass storefront, you could see people walking along the streets heading to whatever job they worked to contribute to the community, no one got paid, it was a commune after all, you couldn't imagine a world where everyone was so dependent on money and so obsessed with over-consumption. Part of you was waiting for one of those people to come in and wish you a happy birthday, but you shook the thoughts from your head.
You began to make the small portion for two of cupcake batter, remembering distinctly how four years ago you sat next to Sean at the Fourth of July party and he went on and on about how much he hated vanilla, it seemed like one of those crazy old man rants but you found delight in it. Never had you seen a man so passionate about cake flavouring. He said vanilla was nothing special, flavourless; you had come to learn that he was a chocolate man, every holiday event filling his pot belly with chocolate, when you had brought assorted sweets for a Christmas party he dove straight for the brownies. So it was easy for you to make up your mind on what flavour of cupcake to make.
After years of this cupcake tradition you had memorized each ratio to make, a double serving of chocolate batter consisting of 1/4 cup of flour, 2 1/2 tablespoons of white sugar, 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1/4 tablespoon of baking soda, a dash of salt, 2 tablespoons milk, two tablespoons canola oil, 1/4 tablespoon vanilla extract. You treated baking like it was a science and recipes were your formulas.
As for the frosting, you had a stockpile of plain buttercream that you took small servings from and flavoured according to said person's preference. All you had to do was whip it up and add some cocoa powder to make it fluffy and creamy again.
The bell above the doorway rang, signalling the arrival of someone, you looked up to see Maria. "Hey, there," You smiled, turning off the stand mixer so you could hear her.
"Hi, (y/n)," She greeted and you quickly wiped whatever was on your hands onto your apron before coming around to the service counter to speak with her. "I have something to ask of you."
"Yes?"
"I know you already do your little cupcake thing but we are throwing a surprise party tonight for Sean and I was hoping you could make a cake for him?"
You nod with a smile "Anything for the town chief."
"Great, then how about a simple vanilla cake?"
"Sean doesn't like vanilla," You answered quickly.
"Okay, well I trust you with it, his party starts at eight tonight in the town square and he's turning sixty so it's a big one, I'll see you there around then?" 
"Definitely," You grinned at Maria, waiting for her to wish you a happy birthday and reveal that she was only pretending to forget but she didn't. She thanked you and walked out, leaving you in a flour-covered apron with a tinge of hurt in your heart. It wasn't like you weren't close with Maria, you had Thanksgiving at her house every year.
Nonetheless, it was only a blip in your soon-to-be perfect day. Just as you had frosted the two cupcakes, putting chocolate chips on Sean's and breaking half of a double fudge cookie and sticking it into the thick icing. Rainbow sprinkles cascade like confetti, adding a whimsical touch to the miniature confection. The bell rang again calling for your attention, this time you didn't leave the kitchen instead just moved to look at whoever it was by the passthrough.
"Hey, kiddo!" Tommy greeted, clad in a red flannel tucked into blue jeans. He walked into the bakery as comfortably as he would his home.
"Howdy, Tommy," You said, moving out of his sight for a quick moment to put the two cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the buttercream from prematurely melting. 
"So, it's Sean's birthday today and I was wondering if you could bake a cake for his party-
"Maria was already in," You answered "Don't worry, I'm on it."
He smiled "Of course, you're always so on top of it," He leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get a look inside the kitchen via the passthrough "Say, have you got anything back there for me?" You opened the box of double fudge cookies you made the day before and scooted around the passthrough to hand him one, boots clattering on the ground. Tommy loved to visit the bakery as you always had a sweet treat for him and he would never get sick of the aromatic embrace of fresh bread. "Thanks, kiddo, I'll see you around." 
This was the moment you were almost convinced that they were planning a surprise party for you, sure Maria could forget about your birthday, she was a busy lady but there was no way Tommy would. He was good buddies with your dad and was over at your place for beers a minimum of once a week. You always baked for him when he came over and he constantly joked about you trying to fatten him up. 
The bell sounded again though you didn't bother to look up, you knew who it was by the time of the clock, Juno was starting her shift. As usual, she tied her mousy brown hair into a sleek ponytail then grabbed her apron and stuck a baseball cap on over her head so there was no chance of her hair coming loose. "Good morning," She walked into the kitchen, heading over to the sink to wash her hands.
"Mornin'," You answer.
She looks you up and down with a slight smile "You're wearing your favourite apron, must be a special day."
“Sure doesn't feel like it."
Your birthday wasn’t panning out great but you didn't want to lose hope.
You had walked over to the greenhouses after your shift to find Sean, he loved the cupcake, he even hugged you which was nice albeit a little odd. You walked through town a bit after you had stopped and talked to everyone on the street for not a single one to say the words you've been pleading to hear all day. Taking it as defeat, you grabbed a sandwich for lunch from the mess hall and began the desolate walk home.
Nestled at the end of a peaceful, tree-lined street, the charming but battered house had a certain charm that cut through its worn yellow exterior. Tentacles of ivy wrapped about the crumbling outside walls, their green tones infusing the dilapidated building with a hint of the natural world's tenacity. The worn-out yet friendly doormat and weathered rocking chair on the porch told of years spent taking in the changing of the seasons. The wooden frames of the windows, adorned with faded drapes that seen innumerable sunsets, spoke tales of laughter and time passed.
The house's coziness unfolded inside like a time capsule, with worn-out rugs covering creaky floorboards and a fireplace in the living room that was adorned with vintage tiles that were mismatched and provided warmth in more ways than one. The rooms had a lived-in comfort despite the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint, and each mismatched piece of furniture seemed to tell a story of its own. Despite being tatty and ragged around the edges, the house exuded a calmness that invited guests to enjoy the beauty concealed in the flaws of a place that had aged gracefully and with character like most homes in Jackson. The living room was always your favourite, there was a spruce bookshelf pushed behind the gray, L-shaped couch, and the rug was once a maroon colour though it's clear that it's been well-loved over the years. Pillows and throw blankets were carelessly scattered over the couch from when you and your dad had watched '21 Jumpstreet' the night before, he kept saying it was a shame the outbreak happened before they got to make a second one, though many of the jokes didn't land with you, you loved to see your dad laugh so hard he snorted. The room was illuminated by a warm glow from the fairy lights overhead that your dad scavenged years prior, a small stack of books piled up on the coffee table which had been hand-crafted by Joel.
You popped 'Mean Girls' into the DVD player, just to have some background noise and went to the kitchen and started on Sean's cake. As much as you loved the bakery, you wanted to be somewhere a little more close to comfort. 
As you measured each ingredient with care, you couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingered in the air. Sifting the ingredients into the bowl, you had wished your father was home from patrol duty, all you really wanted was a hug but instead, you slaved away at a black forest complete with layers of moist sponge, decadent frosting, and a profusion of vibrant decorations.
As you delicately frosted the cake, your mind flitted between thoughts of the celebration and the poignant fact that everyone seemed to have overlooked your own special day. The kitchen, usually a sanctuary for you to escape to, now harboured the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart, though excited for Sean to get a nice surprise on his Birthday, held an unnoticed longing for acknowledgment.
The aroma of the baking cake filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of disappointment that you couldn't quite shake.
As the cake took shape, you couldn't help but think back to the calendar at the bakery, where the date circled in red seemed to mock you. Your own birthday, usually a day filled with surprises and the warmth of laughter, had slipped through the cracks of everyone's awareness. Though the night was still young and Ellie had said that she was planning something incredible.
Finally, nine was about to roll around, you changed into some clean clothes that hadn't yet carried the memories of your disappointing day, just a white top and some jeans. The sun had set, and your dad wouldn't be home for a good while so you walked over to the town square alone. 
There was a table full of food and a long banner that read 'Happy Birthday Sean!' strung between two street lamps. There were twinkling fairy lights illuminating what would have otherwise been a dark night. 
"There she is!" Tommy smiled, doing that awkward little dad jog over you. "Wow, that cake looks incredible, mind if I take it off your hands?"
"Go ahead," You held out the cakeboard. Tommy gingerly took it away from your grasp, his forearm underneath to support and his other hand held the side of the board for balance.
"I owe ya' kiddo," He winked before taking the cake away to show a group of adults.
You stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with yourself.  You turned your attention to the moon, wanting to believe that it shined so very bright just for you, because the moon, unlike everyone else recalled how important this day was to you-
"SURPRISE!" Everyone erupted in cheers as Sean walked up to his party, his daughter had her arm linked with his. He had the biggest smile on his face it almost made you forgive everyone for forgetting because at least Sean got something thoughtful.
"Lord, I was thinking everyone forgot my birthday!" Sean laughed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.
"(y/n)!" Dina yelled, you turned your head to follow her voice. She was sitting at a long picnic table beneath an awning with some friends "Over here," She motioned for you to sit down and you obliged, taking a spot between Ellie and Laila. "What have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you all day."
"That's because you haven't," You said with an awkward smile. "I've just been baking, like always."
"You're always working so hard, I swear you live in that bakery and when you aren't in there your busy busting your ass around town to make sure everyone gets something on their birthday," Dina sat across from you and put a hand onto yours "You look out for everyone, but who's looking out for you?"
"My dad?" You glance at Ellie who isn't tuned into the conversation in the slightest, she has her arms crossed in front of her on the table and her head resting on them. 
"Aw, that's sweet-" Kayla moves to look at you but in doing so, she spills a glass of juice onto you. "I'm so sorry," She slaps one hand over her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing. Kayla stood up from the table, her ginger curls rustling with the breeze "I'll get a cloth or something-
"Don't worry about it," I wave her off "It's just clothes, I'll grab some napkins." You push yourself away from the table, walking over to the table adorned with food, you see a small stack of Christmas themed napkins (it must've been hard for them to come by regular ones) and grab a handful, bunching them up in your hand in an attempt to soak up some of the juice that had already indefinitely stained your clothes. 
You feel some eyes on you from the other side of the table, to look up and see Joel, he doesn't say anything though his lips are pressed together tight.
"You're back," You say, a spark of happiness rekindling inside of you "So my dad's back from patrol too?"
Joel nods "Too tuckered to come out, said he was just heading home," He uses tongs to put a couple cuts of chicken onto his plate "Oh and happy birthday, you've probably heard that a whole bunch already, lord, it's all your old man would talk about on our last couple of patrols."
"What did you say?" You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure if he said what you really thought.
"I said happy birthday, shame you've stained your clothes on your birthday," He absentmindedly added some mashed potatoes onto his plate. The words hung in the air, a moment that transcended the boundaries of their usual exchanges. You, momentarily taken aback, met Joel's gaze. It was a simple, earnest wish, uttered with the spontaneity of someone who had remembered a small yet significant detail in the whirlwind of festivity.
"Thank you, Joel," You replied, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and gratitude. In that fleeting instant, the isolation that had surrounded her seemed to dissipate. A connection, however tenuous, had been forged in the acknowledgment of her existence amidst the collective celebration.
"No problem, kid, I'll see you around," He left with his plate leaving you to stand alone at the table. You continued to dab at the juice on your white top, and though you knew it wouldn't come out you proceeded to rub it; the best exchange of your day, no more than eight sentences suddenly turned from joy to frustration. The only two people who remembered your birthday were your dad and a fiftey-eight-year-old man who practically raised the girl you had spent years crushing on, not the girl herself, but her father figure. However, you thought, maybe if Joel remembered, Ellie had aswell and she actually did have something planned.
Amidst the lively chatter and laughter that reverberated through the night, you stood in the midst of flickering candles and colourful decorations, your eyes cast down to the ground. The atmosphere of celebration enveloped her, but a palpable sense of solitude hung in the air like a heavy mist settling upon your shoulders. It was a birthday party, yes, but not your own. Forgotten and overlooked, your heart echoed with a quiet ache, the irony of your situation casting a shadow over the festive scene.
The square was adorned with streamers and balloons, a tapestry of colours that seemed to dance in rhythm with the joyful voices around her. The community gathered, their faces lit by the warm glow of the fairy lights and street lamps, each one caught up in the merriment of the moment. Yet, for you, the celebration felt like a distant spectacle, a scene from which you were detached.
It was your birthday too—a fact that no one cared enough to recall. As Darla (Sean's daughter)  calls guests toward a decadent cake adorned with candles, which you had made, you couldn't escape the bitter irony of the situation. You watched as the room erupted into a chorus of "Happy Birthday," the song meant for another soul, another moment of joy. You joined in, lips forming the familiar words, your voice harmonizing with the collective melody. But within the depths of your being, the celebration rang hollow, a stark contrast to the cheer that echoed around you.
Throughout the evening, you navigated the party with a forced smile, concealing the invisible weight of your emotions. Conversations buzzed like bees in your ears, no- it grated like a fork in a blender, but you found yourself on the outskirts—a silent observer amidst the numerous connections. The laughter that erupted like fireworks, the clinking of glasses, the embraces of old friends—it all seemed distant, an echo from another realm where she once belonged.
The party unfolded as a series of snapshots: a group photo with smiling faces, a toast to Sean, and the opening of gifts that weren't meant for you. Each moment, though vibrant and filled with the warmth of shared camaraderie, magnified the silence that enveloped your own celebration, forgotten and left to dissolve into the shadows.
As the night carried out, seeming like the celebration would never cease, you cut yourself a slice of cake, grabbing one of the half-melted candles that Sean had already blown out, they sat in a frosting-covered pile next to the cake. You took your favourite colour out of the rainbow assortment of candles and stuck it into the piece of black forest cake.
With your cake you sat back down by Ellie at the picnic table where she still returned to after conversing, everyone else had gotten up to dance. You reached for the lighter in your pocket and struck it to ignite, sparks flickered around the end of it, you struck it again and a flame arose, you carefully brought it to the wick of the partially melted candle.
The flickering flame cast a subtle glow as you made a silent wish for understanding, for the beauty found in selflessness, and for the recognition that sometimes the most meaningful celebrations are the ones we craft for others, even in the quiet echoes of our own unacknowledged birthdays. Ellie turned to look at you as the candle's flame danced in the darkness, before you could blow out the candle to solidify your wish a little girl climbed up onto the bench and blew it out, you looked at her and all she did was smile up at you, the gap in her teeth prominent, her deep chocolate hair braided so intricately you had to believe that it must've taken her mother hours.
As much as you wanted to deck that little girl in the face for ruining your moment, you didn't because it would be wildly inappropriate. "Do you want this?" You sighed, holding out the plate to the girl, she smiled and nodded enthusiastically, taking the cake and scattering away "Hey, Ellie," You pushed back tears in your eyes, forcing a smile on your face "Got any plans later?"
“Yeah," She said, short
"Oh, what are they?"
"Not to sound like a cunt but I'm not really in the mood to talk, I had a shit patrol and all I want to do is go home, smoke a joint, watch a movie, maybe read a comic, and pass out on my couch, the only reason I'm here is that Dina dragged me out and Joel said I need to be more involved in the community."
Your smile dropped, you couldn't hold it in anymore, realizing that this wasn't the elaborate setup of a surprise party but Ellie genuinely forgot it was your birthday. "Are you serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember what's happening today?"
"It's Sean's birthday," She gestured to the party around her.
"You're fucking serious," Any amusement that had been in your tone was gone, replaced by a subtle anger boiling up inside of you
"Are you going to cry?" Ellie gave you a weird look "What are you so mad about?"
"I can't believe you," You laugh bitterly "Actually I can, this is so like you, I need to stop building it up in my head that you're going to surprise me with something great. But hey, at least you never fail to let me down."
"Jesus," She scoffed "There's always something going on with you, can you go one day without finding some irrational reason to be upset?"
"Irrational?"
"Yeah, irrational," She reiterated "You always come to me when something sets you off in the slightest then your problem becomes everyone else's. You're so fucking draining and I'm sick of it."
"Fuck you, I hope your comic catches fire from your joint and you burn your place down." You stand up from the bench, wiping tears away from your eyes. Your boots clattered against the cobblestone. You stormed past the dancers, some stopping to look at one another with concern. Dina leaves Jesse to ask Ellie what happened.
The walk home might've been the loneliest you had felt in your life, the harsh wind of the night bit at your nose. The feeling of the sticky juice soaking through your clothing was borderline unbearable, were just about ready to scream. There wasn't a single person out and about as everyone was either at the party or cozied up in their own homes.
Arriving at your doorstep, you fumbled with the handle, the metallic clink resonating in the quietude that enveloped the house. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit foyer, still no surprise. Why do you still think there is going to be a party? No one is coming.
You wandered into the living room, the TV was lit with the options screen for 'Mean Girls' that you had put on hours earlier.
Sinking into the worn-out couch, You let the weight of the day wash over you. A single tear welled in your eye, and as it escaped, a floodgate of unshed sorrow burst open. The first teardrop traced a silent path down your cheek, leaving a glistening trail of heartache in its wake.
The tears you cried weren't silent and dainty but violent sobs that burned your throat each time you cried out. As you wept, it felt like someone had stabbed your gut with a thousand needles, you cried and cried, to no one in particular, maybe the moon glistening outside the window though the moon seemed to absorb your tears, offering no solace in return.
The soft tick of the clock on the wall echoed in the quiet room, marking the strike of midnight, your birthday had ended. There was no secret party or a prank where everyone was only playing an act, only the emptiness of the house echoed the howls soaked in your tears.
The oak staircase creaked, and your dad turned the corner, peering into the living room. "What's wrong, honey,?" He shook the sleep from his mind, focusing on what was important, he sat next to you on the sofa. "I thought you said you were going to be out all night with your friends?"
You shook your head, breathing shaky breaths alone, hardly able to get a word out "They forgot," You felt the harsh sting of desolation hit you all over again "Everyone forgot," You grabbed his grey t-shirt burying your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you gently like you were a child who had just scraped her knee not someone who had just turned nineteen, "Except for Joel, so be nice to him, please."
"I'm sorry, baby, it was probably just a mix-up," He rubbed one hand on your back to comfort you. "I should've been there with you, I'm so sorry."
You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, all you could manage was to shake in your father's arms with sobs until you cried yourself to sleep.
"Happy birthday, Jasmine!" You smile brightly, presenting a lemon-raspberry cupcake to the woman. She was serving breakfast in the mess hall, the early morning light streaming through the many windows, blinding those trying to enjoy their meals.
"Aw, thank you, love" She took the cupcake "That's real sweet," She wore a hairnet, despite having short cropped hair. "I just realized I don't even know when your birthday is."
"It was yesterday, actually."
"Aww, how was it?" Jasmine smiled, her white teeth contrasting with her dark skin.
"It was nice, it was quiet too, I just spent it by myself."
A frown replaced Jasmine's smile and she lowered her tone "Did your friends drop the ball?"
You wave off her question "Oh no, loads of people remembered, I just wanted some time to myself, it was nice."
You could tell Jasmine didn't wholeheartedly believe you, she was at Sean's party last night and saw you rush out with tears building in your eyes "If you say so," She shrugged, taking a bite of her cupcake "This is really good."
"Thanks," A small smile plays on your lips.
"God bless you, sweetheart, you deserve the best." She said, every bit of truth behind her words. She took another bite of the cupcake, savouring the sweet and sour taste "And I mean that."
You were too caught up in conversation to notice Jesse ahead of you in the service line right away, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the dispenser, trying to play cool and not have your attention drawn to him. With a shaky hand, he put the glass on his tray and hurried over to the table where Ellie was eating with Dina. "Guys, something not that great just happened."
Ellie furrowed her eyebrows looking from Dina to Jesse "What?" She asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, she swallowed them down and spoke back up "Please tell us what terrible thing has happened in the time it took you to walk to the service line, get your food and come back?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
"We forgot (y/n)'s birthday," He said quickly, Ellie and Dina looked at each other with wide eyes, thinking back to the night before and the way they had both behaved. Dina was extremely ignorant and Ellie got into an argument with you, though Jesse didn't speak to you at all.
"We're awful friends," Dina says quietly, scraping her mind for any way they could salvage the situation and play it off like they hadn't forgotten. "We could change all of the calendars in town and make it seem like her birthday is actually today."
"Be serious, Dina," Jesse said, though he was considering her idea. "I think the only way we can fix this is by making it up to her."
"How would we do that? We can't make it up to her, she remembers every single person's birthday in this town and gives them a cupcake, even people she doesn't like, do you remember how she planned all of our birthday parties for the last four years and has never let us down?" Dina and Jesse nodded "And how we always scramble something together last minute? Like last year, we only remembered two days before and we threw her a subpar movie night, we watched Star Wars and she doesn't even like Star Wars."
Dina sucked air through her teeth "Yeah, not our best moment."
"You think?" Jesse asked, sarcastically. "And Ellie didn't make it any better by yelling at her yesterday!"
"You yelled at her? You told me you didn't yell at her,"  Dina whipped her head to look at Ellie, the smallest glimpse of judgment in her eyes. "Shh, she's coming!"
You were making your way to the exit lugging the cart that had held loaves of bread on it before you dropped them off to the kitchen, still in your flour-covered apron, hair pinned up messy, baby hairs flying away. Clad in jeans, a green T-shirt and beaten-up boots, clacking against the hardwood floor, you still looked beautiful to Ellie with red eyes and a puffy face from crying all night. "Watch this," Jesse murmured to the group before turning around and flagging you down. "Hey (y/n)!" He smiled brightly, his words catching your attention "Did you enjoy your birthday, yesterday?"
"Jesse, I know you heard me talking to Jasmine." You said and Ellie couldn't bear the disappointed look on your face. At that moment, the guilt hit her all at once. You had been the first kid her age that she warmed up to when she arrived in Jackson, trying your best to include her in everything. You invited her to hang out with your friends even though she didn't particularly get along with them, she went anyway because she just wanted to see you. On her birthday the previous year, you had scoped out an old comic store hours away just to bring her there for one day.
Jesse's smile fell and you had walked out the door before he had the chance to push a lie through his teeth. Last night's conversation echoed through Ellie's head over and over again, she cringed at the memory, god, why did she even say that?
Dina reached over the table and gave Ellie a harsh smack on the arm "Why did you even say that?!" 
"Ow," She flinched, rubbing the spot that had been assaulted by Dina "What are you talking about?"
Dina looked at Ellie like she was just about ready to scream "What you said to her last night, what was going through your head?"
"Not much, apparently," Jesse answered for her, earning a death glare from the Auburn girl.
"I'll just apologize and it'll be water under the bridge," Ellie said, leaning back.
"That's not going to work," Dina replied quickly.
It, in fact, did not work. Ellie had shown up at the bakery where you promptly ignored her. "(y/n), I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday and said those things to you." Nothing Ellie said could get you to even look at her.
She had later stopped by your house, it was your dad who answered the door and Ellie sheepishly asked if you were home. He called for you to come down, the moment you saw Ellie, you shut the door in her face. There was no way she could defend herself, she couldn't say that she said those things because she had a bad day (even though she did), and that would just make her seem pathetic. She really wanted to say that she was scared of how much she liked you, she didn't want to ruin a good thing, you both had spent years playing the role of each other's best friend until Ellie started to distance herself from you and you ended up enwrapping yourself with work to distract yourself from the fact that she was drifting away.
Ellie didn't know what to do, if she didn't act fast, it would be too late and she was going to lose you.
One week later
The sun was just beginning to set as you were already preparing to settle into bed and read a book, just about to change out of your floor-length sundress and into one of your dad's old shirts. However, your plans were interrupted when you heard your dad screaming downstairs, it was blood-curdling. You dropped everything, pulling your bedroom door open and rushing down the stairs, tripping on a step and stumbling before quickly regaining balance and moving with haste "Dad?" You called out, worry running through your head. 
"SURPRISE!" People practically screeched, the volume so loud that you jolted back in fear. The chatter only grew as you looked around you and realized what was happening, this was your belated birthday party. 
You were pulled in suddenly for a hug, squeezing you so tight you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull was Tommy "I'm so sorry, kiddo, I was being a real shithead on your birthday."
"It's okay," You choked out, nearly gasping for air. Much to your relief, he released you and you took a deep breath.
"Happy belated birthday!" Dina sang, placing a fat box in your arms. Many people followed after her, piling gifts on top of the initial one, you were quickly losing balance, so you stumbled into the living room and put the gifts onto the coffee table. There was so much life in the living room it was almost hard to believe that just a week before you had been crying alone, bathed in moonlight. 
There were streamers strung throughout your house and odd dangly decorations that hung from the ceiling. Some balloons were taped to the walls while others bounced around the ground.
The lively hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the melodic strains of birthday wishes filled the room as the party pulsated with energy. Colourful decorations adorned the walls, and the air was charged with the festive spirit.
 You had the biggest smile on your face while everyone joked and jeered. Shoving their gifts into your face, trying to get you to open them first. It had made you forget about how awful your real birthday was, though you did try to dodge awkward apologies of people fumbling over their own words to make up excuses as to why they missed your real birthday.
"Happy birthday to you-" A voice began singing, and soon enough the entire crowd joined in, harmonizing into an off-key rendition of the birthday song. They made way for the person carrying the cake which had been none other than Ellie herself. The song ended off and Ellie placed the cake in front of you on the coffee table. "Make a wish."
You blew out all of the candles, and no punchable little girl around to steal your thunder, the room erupted into applause. The celebration continued with the living room becoming a dance floor, laughter echoing through the corridors, and conversations flowing freely. The cake itself reminded you of the embroidery your dad had done on your apron, it was sloppy and imperfect but you could tell it was made with love, the icing had been put on prematurely and had partially melted off the cake. It read 'Happy birthday' with 'Sorry for being a dick' written smaller beneath the first bit of text.
"Thank you, Ellie," You smiled softly up at her.
No one else was paying attention to you anymore, aside from those who wanted a slice of cake. Ellie nervously fumbled around with her hands "Do you want to dance?"
Ellie invited you to dance as the opening notes of the song floated through the air and she held out her hand. With a gentle smile, you accepted and you moved into the middle of the living room to form a makeshift dance floor. The soft aroma of fresh flowers blended with the scent of vanilla candles created an ambiance that enhanced the moment's sensory magic.
To the gentle beat of the song, your bodies moved in unison. Your hand settled comfortably on Ellie's shoulder, and her hand wrapped around your waist. Your bond transcended the material in the living room dance, an unspoken language of mutual feelings and unknown depths.
You both danced, recklessly, so much so that you were nearly a hazard for the swaying couples drifting around you, moving faster and not hurriedly as the tempo picked up. With each step, the living room's walls became silent witnesses to a romance that was developing on the plush carpet under their feet. The muted rustle of your clothing and the melodic notes of the music were all that could be heard to your ears.
The two of you took great pleasure in the dance's exuberance, laughing at the imperfect nature of it. In the noise of the living room, your eyes, locked in a dance of their own, spoke volumes. You were embraced by the dim lighting's vulnerability, which freed you from the burdens of the outside world to fully enjoy the moment. 
Ellie guided you in a soft spin as the song went on, your moves were not fluid and elegant but Ellie could've sworn that looking into your eyes made it feel like there was liquid sunlight coursing through your veins
You and Ellie drew closer in the song's last moments, your bodies pressed together in an embrace that went beyond the material. As the last notes of the music faded, they held each other for an extra moment, relishing the warmth that they shared and the unspoken promises that danced between them. You wished that you could've stayed in Ellie's strong embrace for centuries.
You let go of Ellie, taking a step back with a smile, "Why didn't you tell me you were such a good dancer?" You tease, almost out of breath.
"I didn't know I was," She grinned, taking the sight of you in. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair had become messy, she thought you to be beautiful all the same, if not more. Her eyes raked over your body, your floor-length sundress and mismatched socks "And here I was thinking it was too late for sundresses."
"It's never too late, Ellie."
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