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Elliott enjoys his wife's first pomegranate harvest of the season on their farm. Written for Day 1 of Quilluary 2026 hosted by @astellus and @mongoosingisme over on Tumblr for the prompt "Pomegranate". Originally posted 02/01/2026 on Ao3.
Fandom: Stardew Valley
Rating: T
On the first day of fall, the sole farmer of Stardew Valley awakens earlier than the sun itself, knowing the day ahead of her will be exceedingly long with all the seasonal farm tasks that await. Her blue eyes blink in the darkness as she begrudgingly rises from the warm flannel sheets covering the king-sized bed she shares with her writer of a husband. Speaking of Elliott, the farmer casts her gaze over to his side of the bed, taking comfort in the soft breathing that escapes his lips with the rise and fall of his chest. Elliott had a busy night yesterday, the inspiration striking him after dinner and not leaving until long after his wife had gone to be for the evening. After she toes on her reliable work boots, she bends at the waist, pressing a soft kiss to Elliott’s forehead, brushing her husband’s auburn hair aside tenderly with her fingers. Elliott sighs happily in his sleep, rolling over to face his beloved wife, his emerald green eyes remaining closed as he continues to slumber peacefully. It is not often that the farmer and writer sleep in due to their hectic scheduled of their chosen professions, so she leaves him to his rest. When the brunette farmer opens the door, she finds Ace, her steadfast canine companion eagerly awaiting the beginning of their day. The dog softly barks once, nuzzling his head into his owner's hand and accepting scratches behind the ears.
"Good morning, Ace," the farmer softly whispers, patting her hand against her side in the motion she uses to encourage the dog to follow her. "Ready to start the day?" she inquires, walking into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for herself and the canine.
Ace follows directly behind his owner, sitting politely near his red food bowl and awaiting his regular food and hopefully even a slipped piece of bacon or two from the frying pan. The farmer quietly hums to herself, tossing open the curtains before placing some eggs and bacon in a pan, prepared to cook for herself and Elliott even if the aforementioned man is still slumbering away peacefully in their bedroom. Ace keeps his owner company, patiently lying at her feet and earning himself two cut up pieces of bacon in his dog bowl in exchange before the start to their busy day in the fields.
The beloved farmer of Pelican Town finishes off her morning in the farmhouse by pouring a kettle of recently boiled water into two mugs, setting tea bags to steep in the matching set of white and black checkered mugs. Shockingly, the newest resident to Pelican Town has never been a coffee drinker, no matter how much sugar, cream, or other toppings her fellow villagers have tried to tempt her with. Harvey in particular continues to swear he will make a coffee drinker out of the farmer yet to help with her late to bed and early to rise schedule. Prior to exiting the farmhouse, the farmer takes a small sheet of paper and composes a small note to Elliott, sticking the corner of the piece of paper underneath the mug.
Elliott,
I hope you enjoy sleeping on this autumn day. Your muse must have struck late in the night for you not to have come to bed until I was sleeping. Your breakfast is in the fridge to be reheated and here is a cup of green tea to give you some energy to start your morning! It's going to be a long day in the fields for me with the harvest approaching, but I will try to be back in time for dinner this evening. I hope your writing goes well today. Please come and find me if you need me, my love.
All my love, always. ❤️❤️
With a final flourish of her signature, the farmer places a straw hat upon her head, whistling once for Ace before opening the front door, the autumnal wind chilling her face slightly as she steps into the outdoors. All of her crops have begun to reach their peak harvest, so the farmer of Stardew Valley has quite the task ahead of her in the coming weeks to ensure that all the produce is gathered, stored appropriately, and either sold or canned for herself and Elliott to eat throughout the approaching winter months. This being the first day of Fall, the farmer knows that she will have to make an extra stop to the orchard today in order to collect Elliott's absolute favorite part of the entire season and what she jokes is the only reason the writer asked her to marry him in the first place. When she discovered that she and Elliott were extremely compatible during their early days of dating, the brunette, blue-eyed farmer had wasted no time buying saplings from Pierre, planting them in the corner of the farm in an orchard that could rival any other farm in the county. By the time they were wed in the summer of the farmer's second year in Pelican Town, the saplings had grown into strong trees and she had harvested the first fully grown pomegranates just in time for Elliott's birthday that year, a cherished memory that has gone nearly unrivaled for the town's writer, save for his wedding day to the hardworking farmer who swept into town like a forceful gale. With a smile on her lips when thinking about Elliott's first birthday as her husband, the farmer gets to work for the predicted to be grueling day of farm chores. Her first stop is to feed the cows and chickens on her way to water the corn, yams, and pumpkins that she had planted just yesterday in anticipation for the change in seasons.
She is unsure of how long she has been tending the fields when suddenly, a strong pair of arms encircles her waist. A small gasp escapes her lips as Elliott's broad chest suddenly connects with her back. Her husband quickly collects her in his arms, wrapping his broad forearms securely around his wife's chest, pulling her as close to him as physically possible, inhaling the outdoors scent that clings to her skin. Elliott presses a kiss to the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, resting his head atop the farmer's head, once again taking full advantage of the fact that he has several inches of advantage in height over his wife. Smiling softly, the farmer brings one hand up to squeeze Elliott's forearm tenderly, casting her gaze upwards where her azure blue gaze meets Elliott's clover eyes with love shining radiantly on her face.
"Elliott," she breathes, his name on her lips like a prayer or benediction on her lips, the lyrical tone of her voice offering so much happiness to the man behind her.
"My love, your voice is like the softness of honey on this crisp autumn day," Elliott murmurs into her hair, pressing another kiss to his love, this one to the crown of her head.
"What time is it? Have I gotten carried away again and missed dinner?"
"No, my muse, all is well. It is just past eleven and I have been up and about for about two hours now. I enjoyed my breakfast and the tea you left out for me and got a spot of writing done before I ventured into the fields to find you."
"Did you need something or did someone come looking for me? I'd have figured you'd be writing until lunch at the earliest with how much progress you seemed to be making on your latest novel last night."
Elliott gently spins his wife around, his strong arms now encircling her back, pulling their chests flush together. He lets his hands wander down the curve of her cheek before moving his touch to the bared skin of her arms from the sleeves of her flannel shirt being rolled up while digging in the crops. The beautiful woman in his arms sighs happily as his touch continues to warm her body before his hands come to tenderly squeeze hers in his larger ones. If the farmer had to choose the safest place in the world, she would undeniably pick that of her sweet husband's embrace. Elliott could slay her with words, certainly, as all good bards are apt to do, but she will never take for granted the tranquility and safety his mere silence can impart on her when Elliott holds her tenderly in his arms.
"I have come to collect the husband tax of the season, beloved," Elliott whispers, pressing a kiss this time to his wife's lips, humming contentedly as soon as his lips make contact with her plump, pink ones.
"And what might that be?" the farmer inquires, despite knowing that in the nearly four years of knowing Elliott and the two and a half years they have been married that he has always requested the same item as his 'tax'.
"Why, the first pomegranate of the season, clearly," the auburn-haired writer deadpans as if the choice should be obvious, his long hair blowing freely in the wing as he has yet to tie it back today.
"Don't you want to diversify this year? Perhaps with some apples and I can make you the most scrumptious apple pie?" she attempts, her lips quirked in amusement as she teases the man she loves the most in the world.
"Your pomegranates are simply the best part of fall and cannot be rivaled by anything else the autumn season has to offer," Elliott reminds, taking his thoughts on pomegranates particularly seriously, especially as it had been many years since he had eaten one prior to his beloved farmer gifting him one for his birthday during her first year in Pelican Town.
Such a gift had beholden the brunette farmer to him immediately and the two did not have to date for long before they were married the following summer, not even a year after becoming romantic with one another.
"I seem to believe that a certain someone's birthday in four days might rival the pomegranates, my love," the farmer argues back, rolling her blue eyes slightly as she cannot believe her husband would place pomegranates above his own birthday in the grand scheme of things.
And yet, she can believe it because Elliott is known to have a flare for the dramatics when the mood strikes him.
The mood strikes him rather frequently and has ever since he has first made the farmer's acquaintance, citing the woman before him as the muse he had been missing all his life.
"And would this be my birthday you'd be referring to?" Elliott inquires, a shocked tone overcoming his words as his emerald eyes shine with mirth.
"Naturally."
"Because I do rather believe that I'd just as soon trade my birthday away for a lifetime supply of your pomegranates."
Elliott says this statement with the same deadpan tone of voice Harvey would use to give a patient a diagnosis or that Alex may use to talk about sports statistics for a team he couldn't care less about.
"You absolute dork," the loudly laughs, swatting her husband's chest lightly as she rolls her eyes at him. "If I had known that pomegranates were the true way to your heart, we could've been married even sooner had I just offered you one upon first making your acquaintance!" she laughs, causing Elliott to chuckle warmly in return to their back and forth, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "What I shame I moved in during Spring instead of Fall that year. Alas, two whole seasons wasted."
"We found each other when we were meant to, my love," Elliott reassures, pressing their foreheads together as he places the farmer's smaller hand over his heart, knowing that she is comforted by feeling his heartbeat beneath her own hands. "I had to do just a bit of soul searching before I could completely be ready to welcome my beautiful muse into my life," he reminds, thinking of just how much they both grew in those first months after the farmer had moved into her grandfather's farm.
"I love you, Elliott," she whispers, tilting her head up to gaze into his handsome face, running one of her hands through his auburn locks.
"I love you, too, my darling," he whispers back, barely able to get those six words out of his lips before his wife crashes their lips together, neither one able to go very long without physical contact with one another now that their souls have joined as one.
As they trudge through the orchard together in search of the perfect pomegranate to satisfy Elliott's 'husband tax', the lovers walk hand in hand and continue to speak in hushed tones to one another. Ace runs beside them, his ears flopping in the wind as the canine lets out a volley of excited barks when Elliott picks up a stray stick from one of the apple trees and throws it repeatedly for the dog to chase into the expansive fields.
"Why pomegranates?" she asks in a curious tone, never quite understanding just how Elliott acquired his intense love for the rarer fruit.
“Persephone herself would simply not endorse a mediocre fruit, my darling,” Elliott declares, thinking of the myth of Hades and Persephone and how the King of the Underworld managed to captivate his bride when she ate but six pomegranate seeds at the end of summer. “Are you doubting a goddess in her choice for the most supreme of fruits?” he inquires, raising his eyebrow in that devilishly handsome way only he knows how, the look that lights a fire in the farmer's heart.
“You’re just saying that,” she laughs, thinking that once again the dramatic mood has struck her husband and he is willing to delve into any myth in order to get one of his precious pomegranates from the fields she had planted just for him.
“Why would I have cause to lie?”
“Hmmm, perhaps because I’m the one who grew the pomegranates and you’re afraid of angering your wife because then you won't receive any more?”
“On the contrary, my dear,” he reassures, squeezing her hand before stopping mid-stride, turning to face his lover. “Have you truly forgotten that after you gifted me a pomegranate for my birthday during your first year on the farm that I never bought another piece of produce from Pierre’s shop?” Elliott inquires with such a serious look on his face that the farmer finds it hard to argue with.
However, because they do adore to tease one another, she simply cannot accept this as a fact quite yet.
“Surely that was circumstantial,” she nonchalantly remarks, taking her turn throwing the stick for Ace as the dog comes bounding back to their sides once more. “Or perhaps I had better prices than Pierre that year,” the farmer continues, rubbing her hand over her chin as her eyes twinkle with mirth.
“Can you stop being so stubborn and take the compliment, beloved?” Elliott whispers, plucking one of his desired pomegranates off the tree and placing it in the basket they had retrieved from the farmhouse prior to their trek into the orchard. “I only bought produce from you from that day forth until the day we were wed, so I’d hardly call nearly two years of patronage simply circumstantial,” he continues his side of the argument, not wanting to back down because his lover simply could not be this oblivious in the fact that he patronized her farm for the pure sake of wanting to taste all the crops she had grown on the restored farm. “I simply mean to tell you that you have superior produce to our local shopkeeper."
“Just my produce is superior to Pierre’s?” she inquires, a teasing smile on her lips as she trails her hand down Elliott's chest, pulling him closer to her chest by yanking on his signature green scarf.
“Well, I don’t think I married Pierre, did I?” Elliott responds, his voice thick with need as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing as his green eyes widen.
“Only because Caroline had him first, surely,” the farmer continues to tease and it's then that Elliott's mind short circuits at she begins to move her hand lower down his body, her hand coming to rest right at his belt.
“Tease,” Elliott whispers, his breath shuddering as there is suddenly less than an inch of space between him and his wife. “Temptress,” he continues, his own hands coming to cup his wife's cheek and her bottom, both filling his palm perfectly. “Siren,” he whispers once more, diving down and pressing a passionate kiss to his wife's collarbone, pomegranate all but forgotten momentarily in its basket. "Muse," he practically growls into the fold of her neck as he gently bites the skin there, causing his wife to squeak out a gasp once more.
“Are you quite done?” she breathily asks, a crimson blush appearing rapidly on her cheeks and her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
“With you? Never,” he rumbles into her neck, his hand tracing circles onto her hip as he begins to pull them backwards towards the farmhouse.
“I have farm chores to do."
“Take a moment of respite with me and then I shall help you with whatever tasks await you,” Elliott counteroffers, sweeping his wife into his arms bridal style before all but running them back inside the farmhouse's bedroom, the highly coveted basket of pomegranates barely making it inside to the kitchen table with them.
That moment quickly turns into an hour spent pressed close to one another, cuddled underneath their flannel sheets as they press kisses to one another's skin, whispering words of devotion, affection, and promise to one another in the darkness.
When they do manage to extract themselves from the cocoon of their bed, its for Elliott to cut into that 'husband tax' of a pomegranate as he feeds the seeds to himself and his wife.
Oh, how he loves fall most of all.
Author's Note: My real-life husband is also Elliott (spelled the same way, which is rare, as most people only use one L or one T) and my sister was newly into Stardew Valley when my husband and I started dating. I, offhandedly said I'd marry in-game Elliott for being a writer, poet, etc. and having an extremely kind disposition. My Elliott and I started playing the co-op Stardew Valley in September of 2025, so I'm still extremely new to the game, but I'm loving it so far!
Although I am still new to Stardew Valley, which seems crazy to say in July 2026, I can't wait to hopefully write for every day of Quilluary 2026 to show love and appreciation for our favorite writer/poet/bard and write all the fluff for him! Stay tuned for more, dear readers. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, evening or night! Until next time.
Credit: These lovely dividers were made by the wonderful @diviniyae!
“I would not mind it if you joined me, swordsman,” she admits, blue eyes shining in the sunlight.
“So long as you don’t complain about me squishin’ you,” Zoro cautiously says, aware of just how much his relationship with Robin has changed.
Zoro and Robin spend some alone time together while Sanji cooks dinner for the Straw Hat crew.
Fandom: One Piece
Rating: T
Robin glances up from her book to find herself nearly face to face with a scowling swordsman also known as Roronoa Zoro, his famous three swords strapped dutifully to his side.
“Can I help you, Mr. Swordsman?” the female archaeologist inquires as sweetly as she possibly can.
“Yeah. What are you doin’ in my hammock, Robin?” Zoro questions, nearly gritting his teeth with the emphasis on the possessive.
“I beg your pardon, Zoro. I did not know that it was solely yours,” Robin acquiesces, closing her book and uncrossing her legs.
“Well, it is. Franky designed parts of the Sunny for everyone. Usopp and Franky have a workshop, you and Nami have writing desks, room for her to draw her maps, and a makeup cabinet for goodness sake! Chopper gets his fancy doctor’s lounge and even that lovesick cook gets a state of the art kitchen and galley!” Zoro explains, raising his voice slightly to prove his point. “The crow’s nest is meant to be my place of solace and escape during and after I train,” he continues, dropping back into his normal tone of voice.
Oh. Robin instantly understands now why he is so upset.
The raven-haired archaeologist begins to stand, taking her book under her arm before Zoro’s words stop her.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Zoro says nonchalantly, lifting more weights in the close proximity of the hammock. “At least finish your book before you get up. I know how important that is to you,” he states, his brown eyes fixed on both his weights and the woman in front of him simultaneously.
“If you wish to use your hammock before then, there’s plenty of room,” Robin offers, crafting multiple hands beside her to show all the extra room remaining in the hammock. “I would not mind it if you joined me, swordsman,” she admits, blue eyes shining in the sunlight.
“So long as you don’t complain about me squishin’ you or having my feet wind up in your face,” Zoro cautiously says, aware of just how much his relationship with Robin has changed since she first joined the Straw Hat crew after their stint in Alabasta.
“We can find a way around it, I’m sure,” Robin assures, flipping back to where she left off in her book.
Setting his practice weights down, Zoro climbs into the hammock next to Robin, their heads facing the same direction.
“Only this once,” Zoro softly remarks, sleep already threatening to overcome his body as he shirtlessly lazes in the hammock next to Nico Robin.
“But of course,” Robin agrees, her voice a faint whisper when she realizes the swordsman is already fast asleep.
When Usopp comes out on the deck to round the crew up for dinner, his voice startles both Robin and Zoro awake.
“Robin! Zoro! Sanji’s done with dinner, so you better hurry before Luffy eats it all!” the sniper calls before walking towards Chopper’s infirmary to inform the reindeer doctor as well.
Noting the drop in the temperature, change in the sky’s colors, and the fact that Robin’s book is slammed closed at the bottom of the hammock, the archaeologist and the first mate come to the same conclusion.
“We both fell asleep!” Robin gasps, slightly embarrassed as she realizes just how close she had moved towards Zoro in her sleep.
“I wonder how long we were out. Man, that was a good nap!” Zoro reflects, stretching out his neck and the taut muscles in his back.
“I’m sorry. It will never happen again,” Robin promises, knowing how much both she and Zoro like having their personal space.
“It actually wasn’t that bad. We could make that a regular thing if you want,” Zoro yawns, standing up from the hammock and taking her hand in his. “C’mon, dinner’s waiting,” he reminds.
The interaction leaves Nico Robin wondering who this man is and what he has done with the real first mate Roronoa Zoro.
Author's Note: Robin and Zoro are definitely my One Piece OTP! I will go down with their ship, as the two of them are easily two of my favorite characters of the entire show. Zoro is, as I have mentioned before, my favorite character because I have a soft spot in my heart for swordsmen, obviously. (Thinks back to Captain Hook on Once Upon a Time and Zorro from Mask of Zorro, etc….) If you enjoyed this story, I’d love a like, kudos, or comment to tell me what you enjoyed. Until next time, dear readers! Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night!
I want to create a cohesive story since I have written these out of order, but I am trying to create a big interconnected storyline between my ZoRobin, SaNami, Law/OC, and Gen stories. This is the canon that I am imagining for the world when Luffy will become King of the Pirates and the rest of the crew achieves their respective dreams as well!) This is the first of many Zoro/Robin fics from me, so be on the lookout for many more tales of the archaeologist and the swordsman! I have already written and posted 19 ZoRobin stories on my Ao3 account at the time of transferring it to Tumblr.
This story was originally posted on my Ao3 on 07/15/2023.
Credit: The beautiful ZoRobin dividers were made by the fabulous @lunariancupid who loves ZoRobin as much as I do!
Steel and Secrets (ZoRobin series)
If you'd like to join a tag list for this series, please message me!
After a hard day of learning how to be Princess of Corona, Eugene treats Rapunzel to a quiet night free from any responsibilities. Set six months or so after the events of Tangled (2010). Rapunzel is still 18 and Eugene is still 23.
Fandom: Tangled (Movie Verse)
Rating: T
Rapunzel directs a small smile at her royal tutor before closing the door to the library softly behind her. A heavy sigh escapes the Princess of Corona's lips as she withstands the urge to slide her back down the wall to collapse in a puddle on the floor. Today's lessons on all of the diplomatic expectations of a member of the royal family had Rapunzel's head spinning with all the names and relations of other country's ruling families. Secondly, the sheer amount of cultural specificities the lost princess will have to learn is staggering to her. Who knew the world was such a vast place with so many different customs and rules? Her sparse three book library provided by Gothel surely gave no mention of this fact. Although Rapunzel was used to rising early, having started her day earlier than 7 AM in the tower during those years trapped with Mother Gothel, the full day of schooling from the castle tutor has left Rapunzel feeling weary. The information dumped on Rapunzel's head also left her with a splitting headache. She would rather learn from Queen Arianna and King Frederic, her beloved parents, with their near bottomless wealth of kindness and patience for their only child. However, the King and Queen were dealing with a rather important tour of the country's fields prior to harvest in order to determine which regions may have enough crops to export and if there are any regions that will need supplementation for the upcoming harsh winter. Despite their efforts to teach the newly returned princess, the king and queen did not quite believe Rapunzel ready for a visit of such importance so quickly. All Rapunzel wants is to change into a soft nightgown, climb into bed with Pascal, and fall asleep wrapped in the purple quilt Rapunzel and Queen Arianna made together during Rapunzel's first weeks at the castle when speaking to her parents did not come as easily due to the lack of social interaction in her formative years. As soon as Rapunzel turns to head for her bed chambers, a pair of heavy, quick footsteps begins heading towards the Princess' location. Rapunzel runs a hand through her short brown hair, closing her green eyes tightly as a sigh, softer this time, leaves her mouth.
"Who could that---?" she mumbles under her breath, thinking that her royal duties had already concluded for the day.
Surely, the tutor didn't think she was going to work through the night....
"Rapunzel!" a familiar voice calls, echoing off the walls of the hallway.
"Eugene!" Rapunzel sweetly says, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding as strong arms encircle her waist from behind.
"Hi, sweetheart," Eugene responds, that husky tone of voice present as he presses his chin to the top of Rapunzel's head, wrapping his girlfriend tightly in his muscled arms.
"Am I glad to see you!" the now brunette Princess smiles widely, spinning around to press her chest against Eugene's, her heart rate slowing to match his heart's beat.
"Bad day?" the former thief inquires, moving one of his hands to cup Rapunzel's left cheek.
"Just extremely long," Rapunzel groans, her green eyes shining with mirth as she locks her emerald gaze to Eugene's soft brown one.
"What was today's lesson? Curtseying in front of nobles? How to tax the citizens fairly and not extort them? Which silverware to use at one of the fancy dinners your parents are likely to host for visiting dignitaries?" Flynn smirks, knowing that due to Rapunzel's sheltered upbringing in the tower for the first eighteen years of her life that there is much the Princess has to learn.
"Even worse."
"What could possibly be worse than learning about taxes?"
"Politics," Rapunzel announces, tiredly wiping at her green eyes as a yawn overtakes her lips.
"Ouch, I stand corrected," Eugene softly laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to Rapunzel's forehead, his one hand still pressed to her cheek and his other snaking around her waist in comfort and protection. "That does sound grueling," he sympathizes, his heart thundering in his chest as Rapunzel snuggles in closer to his chest, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling his face closer to her own.
Without so much as a word passing between the two of them, Eugene drops his lips down to Rapunzel's, capturing her plump pink lips between his own, his right hand moving to cradle the back of Rapunzel's head. With his left hand, he begins to stroke comforting circles on Rapunzel's hip, making the former lost Princess of Corona happily sigh into her former thief's mouth. Eugene responds by deepening the kiss, barely able to restrain himself from scooping Rapunzel into his arms and wrapping her legs around his hips. Eventually, the need to break apart for air comes and Rapunzel is left breathing heavily, her emerald eyes narrowing with desire. She lets out an indignant squeak when Eugene backs away, grasping her hand in his own before walking down the long hallway. In the opposite direction of her bedchambers she so desires, no less.
"Eugene! Where are we going?" she inquires, a small laugh overtaking her voice as Eugene practically drags her through the corridor, very obviously a man on a mission.
"Come on, I got a surprise for you," Eugene softly says, excitement making its way to his features, that signature crooked smile playing at the corner of his lips.
When Eugene opens the door to the washroom, it truly takes the brunette princess by surprise. She honestly cannot say that she had been expecting this particular destination. The sight that greets her eyes is one of immense comfort and she can tell that Eugene Fitzherbert poured his entire heart of love into this surprise he planned for her. There are no fewer than twenty lavender scented candles lighting the washroom, a tub filled near to the brim with steaming hot water, and the fluffiest towel Rapunzel has ever seen draped on a chair next to the tub. Further, there is a lotion sitting atop the small table, which Rapunzel can see the label denotes it was maximized for stress relief, no doubt courtesy of one of the local shopkeepers outside of the palace.
“I know that you probably have servants that could do this for you now that you’re a Princess and all, but…” Eugene begins, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he glances shyly up at Rapunzel.
“Eugene,” Rapunzel softly says, wanting to thank the man who saved her life for also creating a perfect evening after a stressful and hard day of learning.
“I’ve been sorta wanting to find something special I could do for you since the last outing that we went on because you’ve been so busy, especially this past month learning how to be a future ruler,” Eugene continues, not even acknowledging that his love had even spoken before he continues to ramble.
Rapunzel has a soft smile on her lips, having never truly heard Eugene ramble like this since the day that she healed his hand with her magic glowing blonde hair.
“Eugene,” she tries to break through his rambling again, with the same minimal success.
“And I might not be any good at this because, well, you might say that I’ve never really had cause to do this before, so…” he laughs at his own expense because although he was excellent in romancing the ladies, let's just say he never had to plan ideas for keeping them around.
He had been a wandering thief, after all. Commitments were not something he ever agreed to, not before Rapunzel. After Rapunzel, everything had...
“Eugene!” Rapunzel practically shouts, coming up beside Eugene and grasping one of his larger hands in her own, effectively stopping her lover mid-ramble.
“Something the matter?” he inquires, brown eyes filled with both fear of inadequacy and pure love and devotion for the spirited young woman in front of him.
“I know it’ll be wonderful. The fact that you even thought to do this for me means more than you know,” Rapunzel smiles, squeezing his hand gently in her own before she stands on her tiptoes and presses a small, sweet kiss to Eugene's cheek.
“Oh,” Eugene softly says, his brain short-circuiting from the sudden kiss from the princess. “Well, I, uh, ha,” he continues, truly at a loss for words, which is rather unlike the man who used to call himself Flynn Rider not all that long ago. “You’re welcome, Rapunzel. It’s my honor, always,” Eugene assures, knowing that he would do just about anything to make his Princess smile if it's within his ability to. "I hope you enjoy your soaking bath after such a long, hard day."
The tenderness of the moment, with Rapunzel gazing up at Eugene like he hung the stars themselves, leads Eugene to scoop her up in his arms. Ensuring that the door to the washroom is locked first, lest the Princess of Corona be caught in a compromising position with a man of such common birth and an orphan no less, Eugene allows himself to give into the urge of holding Rapunzel as close as physically possible to himself. Although they have never interacted in this way before, Rapunzel instinctively knows to wrap her legs around Eugene's waist, her thighs squeezing against Eugene's hips as he works to settle Rapunzel against him, their hips meeting and their chests touching, the silk of her purple dress tickling against the small expanse of bare skin that peeks through his white shirt. Eugene hungrily presses his mouth against Rapunzel's, eliciting a surprised gasp from the princess' lips as she was not expecting the certain rush of contact that came with being held in Eugene's arms. She wonders if this is what it could have been like when he came to rescue her from the tower the day after her birthday had he not almost....
"That mind of yours is wandering again, sunshine," Eugene whispers huskily against her ear before pressing a kiss below her earlobe, shocking Rapunzel's nervous system.
"Sorry," she breathlessly whispers back, readjusting herself to where her pelvis brushes against Eugene's navel, even through the thick material of her dress.
"Don't apologize, just turn all your attention back to me and on relaxing," the former thief directs.
He sets Rapunzel back on the ground while continuing to kiss the Princess of Corona's lips and neck, stopping himself before he pushes Rapunzel any further, respecting both her newness to relationships and her status as the heir to the throne. With one last kiss, Eugene points at the steaming bathtub, preparing to see himself out where Rapunzel can enjoy the steaming water to help relax her tense muscles and to help relieve her splitting headache. Rapunzel understands and comes to the side of the tub, giving the lotion a sniff before humming her approval of the scent Eugene chose.
“Will you be here when I get out?” Rapunzel inquires, such innocence in her tone that Eugene has to remind himself that Rapunzel cannot possibly see the impropriety of her request since she was formerly living in the tower with just Gothel and Pascal.
“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Eugene practically shouts, waving his hands wildly around as he scoots backwards and opens the lock on the bath chamber's door. “Your father would absolutely have me executed for seeing you in a nightgown or worse before we get married, Blondie,” he continues, fear shining in his brown eyes at the thoughts of what punishments King Frederic could rightfully impose on the former thief, despite it being known that the princess has chosen to court him despite many protests from the royal advisors.
“So, why don’t we?” Rapunzel gently asks, her voice soft and sensual in a way that Eugene knows would assuredly bring him to his knees if ever she were to give the word.
“Why don’t we what?” Eugene questions, confusion as to what Rapunzel could be referring to coming to mind, as he was still thinking very much of all the ways and locations King Frederic could have him disposed of.
Despite their improving relationship, Eugene has no doubts that if the king gave the word that Maximus, moody stallion that he is, would cart Eugene off to his execution personally if the horse thought Rapunzel was in any danger.
“Get married,” she suggests, a soft smile on her lips as her emerald eyes give Eugene a pleading look, one she has been perfecting over the past six months once she learned what effect it has on Eugene.
“Rapunzel, honey, we’ve been through this,” Eugene reminds, thinking of at least ten conversations he has had with Rapunzel regarding this very topic in less than six months of knowing the young woman before him.
He cards one hand through his brown hair, inhaling sharply through his nose at the thought of having this conversation another time. He hopes that this is not the time that Rapunzel determines it is not worth it to continue asking Eugene, the former thief and penniless orphan, to marry her.
“Remind me again because I think it’s beyond silly when clearly we love one another,” Rapunzel challenges, setting her hands on her hips and looking for all the world like a stern ruler set to dole out the punishment a thief like him would deserve.
“Darling, you’re newly eighteen years old for one,” he begins, one of the top reasons he gives her, as he has heard negative comments made about what a twenty-three year old former philanderer would possibly want with the eighteen year old Princess of Corona, chief among them coming from the Captain of the Guard himself. “For another, you’re still very much learning to be a part of everyday society after being secluded in a tower for eighteen years, how to be Princess of Corona, no less! Plus, there’s your parents to consider. You’re still getting to truly know them and they you. Besides, they don’t know me very well yet, either, despite knowing I’m the one who helped bring you back to the castle and the man you love,” Eugene continues, rehashing the same information that he has explained more times than he would have ever liked to with the love of his life, his new dream.
“What else is there to know? You are the man I love and the one who saved me from a life I hadn’t even realized was slowly chipping away at me,” Rapunzel emphatically reminds, her bottom lip pouting out as it does when she believes Eugene to be stubborn.
(But she'd never know that Eugene thinks the same about her whenever that pouted lip appears.)
“And I don’t think anything I can ever do will repay you for that, not in the way I really want to. Until we get married and I can be your wife, standing beside you every day in every way...” she continues, tugging nervously at the hem of her dress, a nervous habit Eugene has noticed she devolves into, especially when troubled with her newfound royal duties.
“You do that plenty now, Rapunzel, even without us being married,” Eugene assures, grasping her hands in his own to prevent Rapunzel from tugging at her dress or letting her nerves get the better of her.
“Eugene Fitzherbert, you know that is not even close to the same thing!” Rapunzel practically explodes, a laugh escaping her lips at the sheer calmness Eugene took with that statement.
She had hoped to get him to break down and just agree to marry her where those visiting nobles and dignitaries can stop begging her parents to arrange a marriage between her and their less appealing sons! Why would she ever want them when she could have a man as handsome, dashing, and thoughtful as Eugene Fitzherbert? Gah, she wished that those outside of these castle walls could just understand that she loves this man and this man only.
“Okay, so it might have been a little tease at your expense, but it’s absolutely still true!" Eugene chuckles, his smolder coming to rest on his face as he softly kisses Rapunzel's cheek and pulls the princess into his eager arms. “But, one day, when we’re both ready, and if I can secure your father’s blessing, I will marry you,” he promises, sweeping one of his hands through Rapunzel's shortened brown hair, twirling that darker strand Mother Gothel cut when Rapunzel was but an infant all those years ago. “If you’ll have me, that is,” Eugene whispers, pressing his chin to the top of Rapunzel's head, enveloping her smaller body with his muscular one as if shielding her from an unseen storm.
“Eugene, in what universe could I exist where I wouldn’t want you?” Rapunzel whispers back, squeezing her arms tightly around Eugene's back, holding him as tightly and reverently as she did when she saved him from death in the tower when he sacrificed himself to save her from a future of captivity.
Eugene doesn't dignify that with a response, truly hoping that the response is "None", but being too afraid to ask due to the intrusive thoughts he has had when he hears the snide comments made about him behind Rapunzel's back.
He takes a step back out of respect for the fact that they are, in fact, still in the bathing chambers with the door unlocked and he wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression of him if a servant happens to come to check on the Princess.
“Enjoy your bath, gorgeous. You deserve a chance to relax.”
“Goodnight, Eugene,” Rapunzel sweetly says, placing a dainty kiss to Eugene's cheek, thoroughly enamored with the man before her and grateful he would go to such lengths so that she could enjoy a relaxing night after a hard day of learning to rule.
“Goodnight, Rapunzel,” Eugene returns, returning the kiss but he chooses to place the kiss on Rapunzel's lips, both of them humming contentedly in bliss.
“See you in the morning?”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than by your side,” he assures.
“I love you."
“I love you, too, Rapunzel. Now, enjoy that bath I worked so hard on before the water gets cold, beautiful.”
“I will,” she says as Eugene slips from the bathing chambers, locking the door behind himself as he exits.
Author's Note: So, my husband and I went to Tokyo Disney and DisneySea during our nearly three week trip to Japan in October 2025 and I made him ride Rapunzel's Lantern Festival ride three times on the same day. Tangled was one of my favorite Disney movies when it released in 2010 when I was 10 years old myself. Eugene/Flynn was what I wanted in my future partner and I can say that my husband comes pretty close, just obviously was not a rogue thief! 😝😝 I absolutely adore the couple of Eugene and Rapunzel! They were one of my earliest OTPs before I even knew that phrase. ♥️♥️ I can't wait to write many more stories for these two. Drop any T and under prompts in the comments below and I'd love to take a shot at them. I hope you all enjoyed. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or evening, dear readers! Until next time.
This story was cross-posted on my AO3 account on 01/19/2026 as well.
Credit: These gorgeous lantern dividers are made by the phenomenal, talented @thecutestgrotto!
Seeing Sophie slow dancing with Prince Justin tears Howl apart momentarily, an unfamiliar feeling settling in his recently returned chest. Set a few weeks after the ending of the Howl's Moving Castle movie or the first book, though my stories will mostly be movie-verse. Madame Suliman and Ben Sullivan have no relation in this story. Ben, in my headcanon, is Howl's closest friend from their days at the magic academy.
Gifted to LuvFairyz on Ao3 who requested some Jealous! Howl content. This fic is partially inspired by the song "Save the Last Dance" by Michael Bublé.
Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle
Rating: G
A few weeks have passed by in quite the blur with all the repairs that had to be made to both the moving castle and their new shopfront. Not to mention, Howl's injuries had been more severe than he originally let on, leading to Sophie and Markl having to tend to the famous wizard in bed, something Howl surely took great advantage of due to his love for being doted upon. Despite Wizard Suliman declaring that the return of Prince Justin would mean the end of the war, peace treaties take much more than well-meaning intentions to craft, so the war has continued as the discussions have been occurring between the two warring kingdoms. Wizard Jenkins and Howl Pendragon, though the aliases are one and the same man, have been obligated to make appearances at both courts, his firsthand experience on the frontline of war being called into question at every turn in the discussions for peace. Howl wouldn't be surprised if the slowness of the peace discussion means the war would last at least another year, the figureheads of each party not wanting to compromise an inch to keep their people's best interests in heart.
All of that to say, Howl is extremely surprised when an invitation to attend a royal ball in honor of Prince Justin's return to court arrives at the moving castle and is even more surprised when the invitation lists Sophie's name first. Sophie, naturally, had been overtly excited yet cautious that they had received an invitation to the castle in an attempt at peace this time. They both have trepidation about returning to the very place where Wizard Suliman had tried to lure Howl into a trap and kill Sophie to prompt the wizard out of hiding. With the acceptance of the invitation to attend the ball, Sophie and Howl have had many discussions between the two of them about safety procedures they would need to implement to ensure they are not separated from one another again. The fear of being separated is especially a concern since the battle at the hat shop because the ring Howl had once gifted to Sophie that directed her to Calcifer would not be an option anymore due to the fire demon's freedom to wander to his content. He is no longer tied to Howl's heart and is not magically bound to the hearth of the castle, but more often than not, the fire demon can still be found returning to the castle every night. The plethora of logs Sophie keeps stacked near the hearth is a temptation rather hard to ignore, after all.
The night of the royal ball is finally here and Howl stands before the full-length mirror in his bedroom, smoothing the collar down on his finest suit as he converses with his exasperated apprentice.
"But, Howl! You don't understand!" Markl nearly shouts, kicking his feet in annoyance as he sits on the edge of Howl's bed.
"I don't understand what, Markl?" Howl inquires, now moving his ministrations onto his head and face, ensuring there is not a lock of the raven-colored hair out of place and no blemishes to be seen on his perfect skin.
"You weren't feeling well when I heard what the Witch of the Waste had said about Prince Justin!" the young apprentice reminds his master, his eyes and nose crinkling as he thinks poorly of the blonde prince in question.
"And whatever did the Witch of the Waste have to say about the lost Prince?" the older man asks, satisfied with how his hair appears in the mirror and turning his full attention onto the lad before him.
"When Sophie kissed his cheek when he was still Turnip Head, that's what turned him back into a Prince!" Markl reveals, disgust evident on his face.
"I'm failing to see where you're going with this, Markl," Howl admits, sitting on the bed next to his apprentice as the wizard slips a pair of sleek black shoes on his feet.
"She said that Sophie is Prince Justin's true love and that's why he was reverted back into a human!" the young boy practically shouts, needing Howl to understand just what dangers may present themselves at the castle should he and Sophie attend the royal ball as they intend. "You can't let Sophie go to this ball because then Justin might try and take her away to the palace! I don't wanna lose Sophie, Howl! Especially not to some stuffy prince!" he sniffs, tears pricking the corners of his honey-colored eyes.
"I see. Markl, that's certainly a valid worry and concern for you to have, but I'm not threatened in the slightest by Prince Justin," the raven-haired wizard admits, blue eyes shining with both mirth and confidence.
"And why not?"
"Well, there are complexities with true love just like there are any circumstances."
"Meaning?" Markl practically demands, springing up from the bed and his eyes now filling with hope instead of the sadness that had been found mere moments before.
"Just because Sophie is Prince Justin's true love does not mean he is Sophie's true love. Are you following along?"
"So, true love doesn't always have to be returned?"
"No, dear Markl. That is one of the cruelest designs of true love, sadly,"
"Then who is Sophie's true love?" Markl inquires, his eyes as round as saucers as he contemplates this concept with all the focus and determination a boy his age can.
"To be honest with you, I'm hoping that it is me," Howl quietly reveals, his voice a ghost of a whisper, barely audible in the bedroom where Sophie cannot possibly overhear his newly returned heart's truest desire.
"Oh, Master Howl, that would be wonderful! Then Sophie would never have to leave us!" the apprentice cheers, throwing himself at Master Howl's waist and wrapping the wizard in a tight hug.
"That is my hope as well," Howl softly smiles, the corners of his lips quirking just enough to show off his shining teeth.
Only the smallest beat of silence passes before a wonderous idea comes into Markl's head that he must share it with his master.
"Are you gonna ask Sophie to marry you?" Markl excitedly asks next, practically bouncing on his feet as he helps Howl finish getting dressed by handing his master the pair of silver cufflinks he reserves for special occasions.
"Keep your voice down!" Howl hisses, swiftly covering Markl's mouth with the palm of one of his large hands. "You know Sophie has ears like a hound," he reminds, the young woman's hearing famed for being her sharpest sense.
"Sorry," his apprentice squeaks out, slightly embarrassed that in his excitement he had truly forgotten just how perceptive Sophie truly is.
"It's quite alright. But, yes, as soon as I finish my gift for her, I'll ask dearest Sophie to become my wife," Howl reveals, thinking of the half-finished carving he has stored in one of his dresser drawers. stashed behind a rather large pile of his barely worn shirts from his days living with his uncle. "Although, I did already ask her to live happily ever after with me, which I feel should encompass that question," he admits, thinking back to when he posed this arrangement to Sophie the same day she had returned his heart to his chest.
"You have to actually ask her, Master Howl!" Markl explains in an exasperated tone, wondering just how the man before him had truly kept the two of them and Calcifer alive in the days before Sophie came with the utter lack of awareness the wizard seems to possess.
"Yeah, Howl, you can't just expect a girl to read into that sort of thing," an all-too familiar voice admonishes as Calcifer comes flying in through Howl's open window, as he promised Sophie he'd protect Markl and the castle tonight while Sophie and Howl attend the royal ball in Kingsbury.
"And when did the two of you become so well-versed in the art of romance, hmm?" Howl scoffs, finishing with his act of cuffing the sleeves on his suit.
"You forget I held your heart for the better part of two decades, Howl," Calcifer deadpans, thinking back to all the times Howl tried to woo women with his guitar throughout the man's younger years before he had managed to find Sophie again.
"Plus, Sophie deserves only the best treatment from us!" Markl adds in his own opinion, having heard Howl say the same sentiment on many occasions since Sophie broke the curse that held Howl and Calcifer captive for the better part of twenty years.
"That she does," Howl instantly agrees, thinking of all the love and care Sophie gives to the three of them currently in this very room. "Well, how do I look?" he asks, spinning around in a full circle, puffing his chest out in front of the mirror as he does so.
"Handsome as always," a feminine voice answers from the doorway as Sophie appears in a floor-length cobalt blue dress that manages to show off the dip of her shoulders and soft curves of her hips.
The dress had been a gift from Howl, who insisted that he needed to treat Sophie to a dress worthy of her newly restored young age. Sophie had attempted to protest, stating the clothes he had bought her during their move would suit her perfectly well. Howl disagreed vehemently, stating he had bought those clothes when he believed Sophie to be a matronly grandmother, not the stunning young woman she reverted to once the curse had been lifted from her. Howl stops dead in his tracks upon seeing what a cutting figure she makes standing in the doorway to his bedroom, her porcelain skin peeking out of the top of the dress, offering him a tantalizing view of her exposed collarbone.
"Now, come along or we shall be late since you've been in here preening like a peacock in front of the mirror for who knows how long!" her voice snaps Howl out of the worship his eyes were performing of Sophie's beautiful form leaning on the doorframe to Howl's bedroom.
Goodness, that was a close one! She had almost caught him in the act of discussing the future with Markl and Calcifer! But, if Sophie thought he had only been fixing himself in front of the mirror, then that meant she hadn't overheard his conversation after all. Howl would take any small blessings he could get.
"You look as radiant as the night sky, my starlight," Howl compliments, his voice tender and gentle as his blue eyes soften exponentially as he comes to offer his arm to Sophie as he had on that fateful day he had saved her from those soldiers on the square in Market Chipping.
"I... Thank you, Howl," Sophie sighs happily, her cheeks flushing crimson, not used to receiving such compliments on her appearance. "Now, we must go or we'll truly be late. I do not wish to make a bad impression solely because of your tardiness!" she diverts the conversation back to punctuality to avoid the bubbling feelings of attraction towards the man before her.
"Sophie, dearest, haven't you ever heard of the concept of being fashionably late?" Howl quips, a barking laugh escaping his lips as he helps her down the stairs, lifting the hem to Sophie's dress to prevent her from tripping on it, especially since she is wearing her most formal shoes along with it that tend to make her a bit unsteady.
"Howl, I'm the eldest of three daughters. I did not ever have that luxury," Sophie scoffs, thinking back to all the times after her father's death that she had to help Honey manage Lettie and Martha, especially in those early days when the family was so deep in their grief for their beloved patriarch who was taken from this world much too soon.
"Well, my darling, if there's one thing you will soon learn about me, it's that I excel in this particular luxury," the wizard flippantly says with a devilish smile appearing on his lips.
"You truly are incorrigible," the silver-haired woman can't keep herself from laughing in response, swatting Howl lightly on the chest as if to chastise him.
"For you, Sophie, I could be convinced to change my ways," Howl admits, that tender tone reappearing in his voice that Sophie is quickly learning makes her weak in the knees. "If you ask nicely enough," he adds after a moment, ruining the mood, which causes Sophie to smack him in the chest again.
His laugh follows them through their entire walk from the portal door to the front steps of the Kingsbury palace.
One of the first aspects of the ball that Sophie notices, having never been to a party of this caliber was that what Honey had always told her, Lettie, and Martha was true. The music was indeed as fine as the sparkling wine her father used to share with her stepmother during their quiet nights alone after they thought all three girls had gone to bed. However, they'd often quietly creep down the stairs to see the dances their father would lead Honey to, their father humming the music for just the two of them to hear. Sophie's father had been a paragon of a man and he left quite the large hole in Sophie's heart when he passed so unexpectedly and so young.
Howl manages to break Sophie out of her silent splendor by squeezing her hand firmly in his own. He angles his mouth in such close proximity to her face that Sophie feels the ghost of his breath brush against her cheek, her silver hair fluttering softly from the slight wind that passes from the wizard's lips.
"Would you like to walk around and explore? You've never been to the palace in earnest, after all," he suggests, thinking back to how disastrous Sophie's first and only previous visit to the castle had been when she came and posed as his ancient mother.
"Sure," she breathes, closing her chocolate eyes involuntarily as a shudder travels down her spine when Howl rests one hand at the small of her back. "But, Howl, whatever will you do in my absence?"
"I think I spy Ben over there near the refreshments. I haven't seen him since our academy days and I do believe we have much to catch up on," Howl explains, thinking back to one of his closest friends and hoping he can avoid catching Madame Suliman's eyes.
"You really don't mind?" Sophie inquires, ever one to think of everyone else's feelings above her own, the curse of being the eldest daughter.
"Not at all, dearest Sophie," Howl assures, his blue eyes twinkling underneath the palace's splendid lighting. "As long as you promise me but one thing."
"And what might that be?" she challenges, barely managing to subvert her instinct to say 'anything' to the man before her, having learned through her experience with the Witch of the Waste not to give anyone else the power over her despite trusting Howl implicitly.
"While we're apart, don't give your heart to anyone," he whispers, the hand that was on the small of her back mere moments ago travelling down lower until Sophie shudders out a breath as Howl squeezes her hip through the fabric of the cobalt dress.
It takes her brain a second to recover from the shock that races through her entire nervous system at the intimacy of Howl's touch.
"I do rather believe giving hearts away to be something you are guilty of between the two of us, not me," Sophie smirks, mischief sparkling in her otherwise gentle brown eyes.
"I suppose you're right," Howl concedes, his lips quirking into his trademark grin as he presses a small kiss to Sophie's knuckles. "I'll be right over there if you're looking for me, sweetheart," he promises, letting Sophie's fingers slowly slip from his hold.
Stars above, how was it that Sophie was not supposed to fall madly in love with this man with his charming compliments, endearing epithets, and tender touches? She hurriedly walks across the dance floor, trying her best to hide her blushing red cheeks behind her hands. From his position across the ballroom, Howl's smile could rival the brightness of all the stars in the night sky as he watches his starlight converse with the ladies of the palace.
During his talk with Ben, Howl's attention is suddenly drawn to the spectacle currently taking place in the center of the dancefloor.
"Whatever is going on over there?" Ben asks, sipping from his wine glass and attempting to see past Howl to try and ascertain what has captured his best friend's attention.
Howl lets out an involuntary sound of frustration as he catches sight of a familiar silver-haired woman in the arms of one particular blonde prince who had, until recently, been cursed to live out his days as a turnip-headed scarecrow. Seeing Sophie slow dancing with Prince Justin as an enraptured crowd forms around them tears Howl apart momentarily, an unfamiliar feeling settling in his recently returned heart.
"Sophie," Howl whispers, her name leaving his lips like a prayer, like a benediction.
"Are we jealous, old friend?" Ben teases, slapping Howl good-naturedly on the back.
Ah. So, that's what this particular emotion stirring dangerously in the lower part of his belly could be called. Living nearly twenty years without a heart has left Howl Pendragon with much to learn it would seem.
"And after I told Markl I wasn't threatened in the slightest..." the raven-haired wizard groans, wiping a hand across his face and in front of his blue eyes, convinced he must be dreaming.
"Is there a reason you're not dancing?"
Howl startles at the unexpected nearness of Sophie's voice for the second time this evening, his vision focusing to see that his starlight has appeared quite suddenly before him, the dance with Prince Justin quickly concluded.
"There was not anyone I wished to dance with," he answers rather immediately, so certain in his declaration that his brain doesn't need a second longer to think it before it comes from his lips.
"I see," Sophie softly says, disappointment in her voice. "I was rather hoping you'd dance with me," she continues, her mood deflating by the second as her insecurities flare within her, particularly that longstanding one where she knows that no one has ever thought of her as beautiful in her life, especially when compared to Lettie and Martha.
"I'd never turn down the chance to dance with you," Howl quickly reassures, understanding now what it means to put one's foot in one's mouth. "Shall we dance?" he asks, taking Sophie's hand in his own and walking them to the dancefloor with that radiant smile gracing his lips once more.
"I must admit that I don't know how," Sophie blushes furiously, her hand coming to rest on Howl's bicep as she nervously squeezes the corded muscles hidden beneath the suit's sleek material.
"Nonsense. I just saw you dancing with Turnip.... I mean... His Highness the Prince."
"I just swayed back and forth, Howl. That wasn't real dancing," she explains, a tinge of embarrassment in her voice, but one could not simply turn down an offer for a dance from the crown Prince of Kingsbury.
"You never learned how to dance?"
"My father.... My father was going to teach the three of us, but he never got the chance."
Howl swears in his own head, hating himself for making Sophie think of what is clearly a painful memory for her.
"You'll just need to follow my lead. Take my left hand and my right will go to your side. Your left hand goes on my shoulder here," Howl instructs as he helps Sophie position her hands appropriately for a waltz, the music for the next song beginning a bit sooner than the wizard would have liked, as he wants to maximize the amount of time his starlight spends in his arms.
"The hardest part for me is knowing when to turn," Sophie shyly admits, doing her best to follow along with Howl, her body focusing on the feeling of his right arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body ever closer to his.
"Just let your body follow mine," Howl murmurs encouragingly in her ear as he presses their foreheads together, taking charge and leading them through a seemingly complex series of turns, never once allowing Sophie's steps to falter.
Sophie smiles in Howl's grasp, the budding witch pressing their foreheads even closer together than they had been, a shaky exhale leaving her lips in the process as she leaves all of her trust in Howl's hands and his steady feet.
"See? Not so hard, is it?" he asks at the end of the song, bowing at the conclusion of the dance as is custom, an ear-splitting grin widening across his handsome features, his blue eyes continuing to sparkle in the low lights of the ballroom. "You're a natural," Howl compliments, reminding Sophie for all the world of their first meeting when he saved her from the soldiers and blob men before he soared them into the cerulean sky above.
"You flatter me, Howl," Sophie giggles nervously, unsure of what to say in a time like this, her heart beating steadily almost as if it will fly out of her chest at any given moment as heat creeps up her cheeks and neck at the proximity of the handsome wizard.
"I've been dying to tell you something ever since you saved me, Sophie," Howl admits, a worried tone of voice creeping into the statement as he locks his eyes onto Sophie's soft chocolate brown ones.
"What is it?" she nearly gasps, all of the breath deciding to leave her body as Howl swipes his index finger tenderly down Sophie's cheek.
"But I've been too much of a coward to say it," he laments, tugging Sophie even closer into his chest, not an inch of space separating them as he presses their foreheads together once more as he had done during their waltz together mere moments ago.
"Howl...?"
"I love you, my starlight," he confesses, his heart hammering and fluttering so loudly in his chest that he believes Sophie must be able to hear it clearly from where she's standing.
"Oh, you foolish man," a laugh bubbles out of Sophie, her brown eyes softening and brimming with unshed tears at the proclamation. "I love you, too, Howl," Sophie returns, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into her body for a squeezing hug, not unlike the one she gave him after returning his heart to his chest.
Hugs with Sophie would have to become a much more common occurrence if they can feel this good, Howl silently muses.
"Really?" Howl breathes, his voice filled with an overwhelming amount of relief and shock in just that one word.
"Really," Sophie smiles, threading her fingers into Howl's own, clasping their hands tightly together in an effort to ensure they are never parted. "How is it that you think I was able to break your curse?" she teases, a sharp inhale leaving her mouth as Howl softly presses his lips to hers, claiming her in that moment in front of the palace full of nobles, statesmen, and Prince Justin himself.
"I love you, Sophie. Now and forever, my darling," Howl whispers into her mouth, barely stopping between kisses to offer up that promise.
"I love you, Howl," Sophie promises back, happiness exploding within her chest as she feels like the most beautiful girl in all the world, to have captured the attention and love of Howl Pendragon, the most powerful wizard Kingsbury, Market Chipping, and Porthaven will ever know.
"Don't forget who's taking you home and in whose arms you're going to be in," Howl murmurs against Sophie's neck, inhaling her tantalizing scent of flowers, old books, and smoldered embers from the moving castle's hearth, the scent of home.
"What? Howl, I...."
"I saw you dance with Prince Justin earlier."
"That was just out of gratitude for saving him from being a Turnip Head the rest of his life...."
"I saw the way he was looking at you, Sophie. That was not the look of a man merely interested in showing gratitude."
"You're jealous!" Sophie laughs gleefully, never expecting that she of all people would have ever instilled feelings of jealousy in anyone, let alone a Prince and Howl Pendragon, known the kingdom of Ingary over for his flirting!
"And what if I am?" Howl inquires, mischief shining on his face without a hint of remorse.
"Then I'd say you're the most absurd man to ever exist to see that I don't have any interest in Prince Justin."
Howl drops a kiss to the crown of Sophie's head before doing the same to her forehead and then pressing a third kiss, long and slow, to her plump pink lips, drawing a sigh from Sophie's lips.
"Dearest Sophie, don't pretend you'd like me to be anything other than absurd. You rather like it," Howl teases, a devilish smile appearing on his lips, showing off his canine teeth.
Sophie can't argue that point and she leans in to take another kiss from Howl's lips.
"Besides, I've always hated turnips, ever since I was a little girl. I've always been drawn more to roguish wizards," Sophie smirks, earning one of the purest laughs she has ever heard from Howl.
Howl determines then and there that he shall have to finish his gift to Sophie immediately where he can properly address the living happily ever after scenario he had posed to her a few weeks ago when she saved him and Calcifer from defeat and ruin. He couldn't bear the thought of having to compete with Prince Turnip Head Justin a moment longer, even if the competition only exists to the two men involved in vying for Sophie's love.
Currently I have about fourteen ideas for more Howl's Moving Castle works! ❤️❤️ If anyone has any prompts for me they’d wish to see, drop them below and I’ll do my best to deliver! 😊 This was written for LuvFairyz who left me the sweetest comment on my first published Howl's contribution and also requested a jealousy trope fic. I sincerely hope this was everything you wanted out of a jealous Howl! I hope everyone has a wonderful day, afternoon, evening, or night. Until next time, dear readers!
There’s something about the entire Wales plot that doesn’t quite make sense to me from the book as well as a few other plot points, hence why I stated in my Howl’s works that I will be cherry-picking plot points. Therefore, my stories in the Howl’s Moving Castle fandom will be my own blend of the book and movie canon worlds. Howl will still notably be from Wales, but I don’t know that it will quite come up in the expected ways. I also hope to read the second and third books soon, but I’m kind of making my own timeline for things, such as the war lasting another year even after the return of Prince Justin because we all know peace treaties take time.
Credit: These lovely Calcifer dividers were made by @condybunny
Summary: "The trio of adventurers make camp during a thunderstorm. Fern begrudgingly is the one who must comfort the party's resident cowardly warrior, Mr. Stark. Frieren finds the entire situation to be hilarious but not worth the effort to intervene between the two young adventurers' squabbling." Written for Day 2 of @flufftober October 2025.
Fandom- Frieren: Beyond Journey's End
Rating: G
The trio of adventurers settles in after a hard day of fighting against a horde of rather angry goblins. Fern is still able to smell their pungent feet even hours after they had left the green nuisances behind in the dust, making the purple-haired mage wrinkle her nose in disgust as she flops her travelling pack down in the dirt.
"We'll camp here for the night," Frieren says, her keen eyes noticing that Fern's rather unceremonious dumping of her backpack is indicative that the younger mage has reached her absolute limit for the day.
It's still difficult for Frieren to remember that Fern and Stark are both six years younger than Himmel had been when their Hero's journey had ended nearly three quarters of a century ago. She has to remember to allow them ample time to rest, their young selves being unused to the longer haul of travelling and the added fact that human bodies are generally less hardy than those of elves.
"Finally! I thought my feet were going to fall off if we worked any farther!" Stark gasps, wiping a line of sweat from his brow as he practically collapses into a puddle on the forest floor.
"You didn't even carry any of the heavier materials, Mr. Stark," Fern growls through gritted teeth.
She looks at Stark's much smaller pack with disgust on her face as she thinks of just how many trinkets she had to tote in addition to their food and water supply. After all, someone in their small party had to be the responsible one and manage their rations accordingly where they wouldn't die of dehydration or starvation on their journey across the continent.
"Well, if it wasn't for your mistress collecting treasure at every place we visit and overloading her own bag, perhaps your bag wouldn't be as heavy!" Stark argues, flipping the cap off the waterskin before taking a long, cool drink.
"Well, if it wasn't for your rather weak constitution and fear of real labor, perhaps you could carry more!" Fern snaps back, breaking a granola bar in half and handing the second portion to Frieren.
"As I told you before, it wouldn't hurt you to be a little friendlier! I'm a sensitive soul, remember?" the young red-haired warrior complains, rifling through his backpack to see if he has any rations of his own since it does not appear as if Fern is in a sharing mood this particular evening.
"What a pain in the rear you are!" the young mage exasperatedly shouts.
"What did you call me?!?"
"Children, please stop fighting amongst yourselves," Frieren's voice breaks through the din and chaos of her young charges as the elf comes to physically stand between Fern and Stark to keep them from coming to blows.
"We're adults, not children!" the two young adventurers retort.
"Then stop acting like it and let's get started on making camp for the evening," the legendary mage heavily sighs, her hand coming to rest on her hip and she comes dangerously close to doing Heiter's tongue click of rage. "I'll handle getting a fire started. Fern, you're responsible for finding drinking water for tonight and to refill the waterskins for the journey tomorrow. Stark, you're to go hunting for some dinner. Try your best to find rabbit or a deer," she orders, leaving no room for argument.
"Yes, Mistress Frieren," Fern quietly acquiesces, the tips of her ears turning crimson in embarrassment at the correction she received from her mentor.
"Yes, ma'am!" Stark quickly follows after, grabbing his ax and slinging it across his muscled shoulders, a nervous look playing across his features at the scolding.
Frieren nods in satisfaction before she begins to gather firewood and rocks to build the campfire for the night's cooking and warmth.
Fern and Stark return back to camp at nearly the same time, much to the shock of the two younger members of the newly formed trio. Fern's arms are weighed down with filled waterskins to keep them hydrated throughout the night and she would refill them in the morning before their departure. Stark carries two rabbits in his left hand, his prized ax held firmly in his other hand should he have been ambushed by predators on the trek back to their makeshift camp.
"Rabbits!" Frieren excitedly says, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Fern makes the best rabbit stew over the fire! Will you please make it for us, Fern?" the mage requests, personally thinking that Fern's rabbit stew is one of the tastiest meals she has ever consumed during her vast experiences on the Earth.
Say what she would about Heiter, but she can't deny that that corrupt priest had given Fern a magnificent instruction in cooking during her youth.
"Rabbit stew it is, then, Mistress Frieren. You're lucky I saved some of the potatoes and carrots I bought in the last village two days ago or it wouldn't have been your favorite way," Fern warmly rolls her eyes, pouring a large amount of water into the pot she uses to cook with on the road.
"I can't wait to try it if it's as good as you're making it out to be!" Stark smiles, sitting down on the forest floor before peeling his boots off and rubbing his aching arches.
"You don't believe it's as good as Mistress Frieren claims?" Fern darkly accuses, holding up the ladle in preparation to smack Stark upside the head with it.
"Must everything be a fight with you?" the warrior dramatically sighs, pretending to see right past the angered mage.
"When it involves you, then that does seem to be the common thread, yes."
With the heavenly aroma of Fern's famed rabbit, potato, and carrot stew permeating the air, the trio of adventurers settles down to eat, a hunk of bread rationed out to each of them from Fern's pack. Thunder rumbles in the distance before a fat raindrop lands on Stark's nose, causing the young warrior to sneeze.
"I didn't realize a storm was rolling in," Frieren muses aloud, packing her newest precious grimoire into her bag to keep its pages from becoming even more worn than they already are.
"Neither did I," Fern agrees, pulling her blanket out and placing it over the top of her head like a canopy.
"It will be good for all of the crops, though. Should make for a wonderful harvest in the towns," the elven mage comments, thinking of all the wonderful produce they will encounter on their journey in a few weeks' time.
Stark remains silent, staring wide-eyed into the fire, the thunder sending a chill down his spine. Lightning flashes brightly between the trees nearly above the party and the thunder booms loudly in response, shaking the trees to their core. In a flash, the rain begins, thick torrents streaming from the sky and efficiently smothering the campfire Frieren had built so meticulously to last them the night. Another crack of thunder and lightning ripples through the air, Stark's arm hair standing erect as he scrambles on his hands away from the nearest tree. His breath begins coming out in shallow gasps, the air around him feeling cold despite the sweat beginning to collect on his back.
"This is scary," Stark nervously laughs, tucking his knees to his chest and trying his best not to scream in fright at the sudden torrential downpour thunderstorm wreaking havoc on the forest.
"Really?" Fern incredulously inquires, rolling her purple eyes in the process. "You really are the most cowardly man who calls himself a warrior that I have ever met," she sighs, setting her now empty stew bowl down to be rinsed out by the rainfall.
"Eisen says there's nothing wrong with being scared," Stark says, his voice a ghost of a whisper as he thinks back to another night like this one many years ago when he was small that Eisen had to comfort him as a young apprentice.
"Eisen is a wise dwarf. It would do you well to remember his life lessons throughout our travels," Frieren agrees, a yawn overtaking her lips. "I sleep so well during storms," she yawns again, her eyes closing reflexively.
"You sleep well no matter the circumstances, Mistress Frieren," Fern reminds, rolling her eyes once more.
"But I sleep the best during thunderstorms. I always have."
Not long after that statement, Frieren is fast asleep underneath one of the trees, having casted a spell over the three of them to keep them dry from the rain no matter how long it storms overnight.
She couldn't help but tease Fern when she casted the spell, calling mention to the fact that had it not been for her fascination with collecting "odd spells", they would've been soaked to the bone in no time.
"I envy how well she's able to sleep," Stark murmurs into the darkness some time later, his eyelids heavy but his eyes unable to close due to the darkness closing in on them caused by the flushed out fire and the raging storm.
"Don't we all," Fern scoffs, still not sure how Frieren manages to sleep with such reckless abandon with no desire to ever post anyone on watch even on the nights they camp in the woods.
"I see now why you made such a big deal as to that morning she woke up before midday without any prompting," the young warrior laughs, his amber eyes threatening to close at any second but his lifelong fear of thunderstorms forcing him to remain awake.
"You'll find that most of what I say is for a reason, Mr. Stark," Fern chuckles, propping her forearms underneath her own head to attempt to rest.
"Again I ask that we please drop the formalities, Fern."
"We'll see about that."
If Fern has to hear Stark toss or turn one more time, she is going to throttle him. Frieren will wake up to find their warrior gone and Fern will have weaved a wonderous tale about what happened to Stark, not mentioning that she would be the one to end him and drag his body off to the woods to never be found.
"Fern?" Stark's voice comes out in a near squeak, extremely meek for a warrior of his strength and caliber. "Are you still awake?" he inquires next, his voice dropping to a whisper as he realizes he may have awoken the mage and he fears the consequences of that as he had feared Eisen during their only true fight.
"Hard not to be with all your thrashing," Fern deadpans, rolling over and casting her violet gaze onto Stark's squirming form, at least as well as she can in the darkness.
"Sorry," comes his quiet response, both of them certain that Frieren is still fast asleep, untroubled by even the loudest of noises during her slumber.
A beat of silence passes and Fern finds herself growing more annoyed and impatient by the second, just wanting to finally go to sleep following a long day of travel.
"Is there some reason why you wanted to know why I'm awake?" she inquires in a slightly sharp tone. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark, too!" Fern exasperatedly remarks after she realizes that this fear would indeed go hand in hand with Stark's track record of fears.
"Well, I..."
"If your answer is going to be yes, don't even bother answering that question, Stark."
"Hey, you finally used just my name!"
"Do not try and deflect the conversation, Mr. Stark."
"Andddd I ruined it. Why can I never just keep my big mouth shut?" Stark laments, slapping himself in the face at the sheer stupidity of ruining the one situation where Fern voluntarily used just his first name without the honorifics.
"The world would be a much simpler place if Mistress Frieren and I knew the answer to that question," Fern smirks, her verbal barbs coming like second nature.
Noticing that the campfire is still out, Fern casts a spell to dry the firewood and then a secondary spell to relight the pile of sticks, a thrilling blaze appearing and lighting their small campsite. In the glowing embers of the fire, Fern sees Stark's face visibly relax as the warrior rolls to face Fern, their noses nearly touching in the close confines. Frieren's spell keeping them all dry despite the thunderstorm only has a small radius, after all. It most likely was originally only meant to cover a single traveler on horseback.
"Did you--Did you just light that fire for me?"
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
"You just cast a spell to restart the fire, didn't you? I know you and Frieren aren't too worried with keeping it going once we're asleep for the night, something about calling attention to our location to potential enemies."
"You really have no survival instincts, do you?"
"Hey! I'm trying to thank you and you're being crabby!" Stark remarks, narrowing his amber eyes and looking disappointedly at the young mage.
"You're welcome," Fern responds, rolling swiftly over to her other side where her face is no longer nearly pressed to Stark's.
"Will it-- Will it burn out soon, or...?" Stark questions, concern laced in his voice even as he does his best to hide it.
"I've enchanted it to stay burning until daylight," Fern answers simply.
"You truly do care, Fern," Stark smirks, pressing his shoulder against Fern's own.
"Goodnight, Stark," Fern says with a tone of finality.
"Goodnight, Fern," Stark whispers, his amber eyes closing and the tense muscles in his back relaxing as he listens to the quietness of Fern's even breaths.
Frieren surprisingly awakens the next morning before either of them, finding Stark's back tucked against Fern's chest. The purple haired mage's arms are wrapped around the fiery headed warrior's torso, instinctually pulling him close. The famed elf mage of legend wonders what precisely she missed last night that led her two young charges ending up in this position. She is well aware that the two typically fight tooth and nail when awake and does not find it worth the time and effort it would take to act as the mediator between the two of them. However, Frieren knows all of that is just bluster, knowing that Stark and Fern would fight to the death without hesitation to protect one another even as they needle one another constantly. Come to think of it, Fern and Stark remind her of herself and....
"Himmel," Frieren breathes into the early morning air, her breath foggy in front of her. "This will complicate things," she whispers, turning her head upwards to the glorious sunrise that she has found herself enjoying the simplicity of more in the nearly thirty years since Himmel's death.
Frieren softly laughs as she hears Himmel's voice so clearly in her head, almost as if he is standing right beside her and not twenty eight years buried in the ground.
"Complicate, maybe. But what a privilege it is to be able to see those you love deeply realize they are in love with one another," she hears Himmel's voice say and a small smile appears on Frieren's lips at this.
She wonders if that is what she and Himmel could have found if she hadn't been oblivious to his desires and attempts to show his interests that she only realized when he passed. She allows Stark and Fern to sleep as long as they would like this morning. Such tender mornings are few and far between for adventurers and should be treasured when they do occur, she muses.
Author's Note: Stark and Fern better be endgame or I will riot. I adore our soft-hearted warrior and seemingly cold young mage! They are two of my favorite fantasy characters to date and OMG do I love them. Let's just say I was kicking my feet during the dancing scene in Episode 15 as well as the entirety of the date episode.... I have created an expansive list of more Frieren universe stories I'd like to write some day, but if you have any prompts you'd like to see that are non-explicit, please feel free to drop them below. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night, dear readers and I'll see you next time! This drabble was cross-posted on my AO3 account on 11/02/2025 as well.
Credit: The dividers used on this post are from the lovely @cafekitsune
Summary: As Robin prepares to meet her end at Enies Lobby, she has time to reflect on Jaguar D. Saul's last words to her. Set during Episode 278: "Say You Want to Live! We are Friends!". Based on the drabble prompt "life".
Fandom: One Piece (Anime or Manga)
Rating: T
Life has not been kind to Nico Robin. The pain, the fear, the utter loneliness has threatened to consume her on many a solitary night.
There had been one, long ago, that wanted to be her friend. She'd whisper his name on the breeze, remembering a truly giant man with an infectious smile who promised her the world could be better. He told her there would be people out in the world who could make her life truly worth living.
Then, one day, they appeared, rather like a shooting star as they fought to save a people they didn't even know from the cruelty of Crocodile's reign.
The boy with the infectious grin and the straw hat owed her nothing, and yet, he extended a hand to her, offered a position on his crew, in his group of nakama. He saved her from herself, from the demons that threatened to consume her soul with every day.
Being forced to leave them, to lie to them, to betray them when all she wants is to live amongst them nearly shatters what remains of her heart.
"I want to live! Take me with you!" her desperate voice calls, pleading with the Captain.
Author’s Note: Robin is one of my favorites of the Straw Hat crew, so my heart was absolutely gutted when I originally watched the Enies Lobby arc because I really hoped she wouldn't leave the crew so soon. I adore Nico Robin as a character and her backstory makes me cry every time I watch it. If you enjoyed this little drabble, I’d love a like, kudos, or comment to tell me what you enjoyed and what you'd like to see next. Until next time, dear readers! Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night!
Credit: Dividers were made by @cafekitsune
Masterlist (In Progress while migrating fics from AO3)
One Piece
Conversations and Scenes We Didn't Have in One Piece
Gen: This series contains gen fics from across the One Piece universe. No ships in this one unless you squint. Platonic love between the Straw Hats and other important characters throughout the story. Think of this collection of stories as being missing scenes and conversations we didn't get in the anime, manga, or live action. Click the link above and you'll find the masterlist of all the works in this ever-growing series.
Sacrifices of the Navigator (Nami, Nojiko, Genzo, and Bell-mère)
Standing in the Gallows (Nico Robin, Saul, and Strawhats)
Steel and Secrets
ZoRobin: This series is dedicated to the romance between our favorite headstrong swordsman Roronoa Zoro and the intelligent archaeologist Nico Robin. I am adapting my own timeline amongst canon events, but their romance arc begins an undisclosed amount of time after leaving Water Seven but before reaching Thriller Bark. The beginning fics in the series are very "will they, won't they?", but I can assure you that the answer is that they very much will. There will also be mentions of Sanji/Nami (SaNami) in the backgrounds of these fics at times. Zoro/Robin are two of my favorite characters to write about and one of my favorite ships of all time, so I refuse to accept they aren't canon.
Tangled Up Together (Zoro/Robin)
Smoke and Tangerines
SaNami: This series is dedicated to the romance between our favorite classy chef and the money-hungry, fashionable navigator Nami. I am adapting my own timeline amongst canon events, but their romance arc begins in earnest after Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Brook save Sanji from Whole Cake Island. There will also be mentions of Zoro/Robin in the backgrounds of these fics at times. Sanji and Nami are two more of my favorite characters to write about and one of my favorite ships of all time, so I refuse to accept they aren't canon.
In the Silence of the Early Morning (Sanji/Nami)
Shadowed Strength
Dracule Mihawk: This series is dedicated to the current World's Strongest Swordsman Dracule Mihawk and his well-known moody, dramatic flair. Most of the stories in this series will also contain his sassy, headstrong, and bubbly wife, Isabella or Isa for short.
A Pop of Color (Mihawk x OC)
Frieren: Beyond Journey's End
Stormy Skies (Pre-relationship Fern/Stark ft. Frieren)
Art of Appearances (Fern/Stark ft. Frieren, Sein, Himmel, and Eisen)
Sea of Red (Fern/Stark ft. OCs)
Scorpion (CBS)
The Kiss Code (Quintis)
Once Upon a Time/Once Upon a Time in Wonderland
His Favorite View (Outlaw Queen ft. Henry and Roland)
Monster Hunter
Our Little Secret (Huntress/Junior)
Stardew Valley
Breaking the Habit (Sebastian/Female Player ft. Sam)
Disney
Pirates of the Caribbean
Bring Me That Horizon (Will/Elizabeth)
Lion King (1994/1998/2004 versions)
Unexpected Ambush (Nala/Simba)
Tangled (2010 movie-verse only)
A Quiet Retreat (Rapunzel/Eugene)
Lilo and Stitch (2002 version)
A Matter of Perspective (David/Nani)
Princess and the Frog
A Tablespoon of Love and a Dash of Banter (Tiana/Naveen)
Studio Ghibli
Howl's Moving Castle
His Heart's Truest Desire (Howl/Sophie ft. Markl, Calcifer, and Prince Justin)
Not So Swoonworthy (Howl/Sophie ft. Markl and Calcifer)
Slumber's Embrace (Howl/Sohpie)
Lord of The Rings/Hobbit
Autumn's Embrace (Bilbo Baggins)
If you'd like to join a tag list for all my works, please message me!
Written for momerin and iluvme747 on AO3 who requested some post-ZOu and pre-Wano ZoRobin content.
Staking His Claim (One Piece: Zoro/Robin)
Written for the lovely momerin on Ao3 who requested some post-Zou and pre-Wano ZoRobin content.
Parting Gift (One Piece: Zoro/Robin)
Written for Abc112 and momerin on AO3 who requested even more post-Zou and pre-Wano ZoRobin content because everyone was loving my headcanon for them during this time apart from the other Strawhats!
Warm and Cozy (One Piece: Sanji/Nami)
Written with inspiration from the comment by emicha on AO3: 'I agree with your HC, and everybody- including Nami- would be like "how did he do it?? How the f*** did that guy actually land his wife???" The power of soft, providing, gentle men...'
Cuddling Conundrum (One Piece: Zoro/Robin)
Written for the prompt given to me by the user damn_fraulein on AO3: "Zoro wants to cuddle with Robin but she's an extremely hot sleeper"
His Heart's Truest Desire (Howl's Moving Castle: Sophie/Howl)
Written for LuvFairyz on AO3 who requested some Jealous! Howl content
Summary: “I can’t swim!” the Huntress practically shouts, clapping a hand over her traitorous mouth almost as soon as the three words are put out into the open.
Junior, to his credit, doesn’t answer immediately, simply blinks in surprise.
Written as a late entry for Day 28B of @swoon-june 2026 for the prompt "Swimming".
Fandom: Monster Hunter Tri/Monster Hunter World
Rating: G
“Can I be honest with you?” E’lara the Huntress inquires one night, casting her gaze over at the hulking behemoth of a man lying next to her, a flash of unease clearly present in her bright blue eyes.
“O’ course ya can,” Junior responds, rolling from his back onto his left side where he can face E’lara when the brunette Huntress speaks.
The pair had collapsed into the hillside’s grassy refuge following their weekly moonlit Kelbi hunt, eager to enjoy the spoils from their shared success. Junior and E’lara have made hunting with one another a routine during her few weeks in Moga, growing closer more quickly than anyone in the village could have ever predicted with Junior’s traditionally stoic nature and E’lara’s focus on the quests at hand.
“What’s on your mind?” the chief’s son questions, hoping the fear he currently is experiencing does not show on his face, despite feeling a foreboding sense of dread like the intensity of a direct hit from a Rathian.
What if she’s leaving? What if she’s decided saving such a small village like Moga from the Lagiacrus isn’t worth it? What if she’s dedicated that I’m not….
“Swear to me you won’t laugh,” she continues their conversation, her shaky voice bringing Junior’s quickly overthinking mind to a screeching halt.
“Depends on how funny I think it is,” Junior quips, easily quirking his lips upwards in amusement as he lets out a small, involuntary laugh in the process, enjoying teasing the Huntress he has come to care for so deeply in just a few short weeks of knowing her.
“Junior! Be serious!” E’lara demands, sitting upright where she can smack Junior roughly on the chest, forcing the man to let out a muffled grunt due to the sudden impact. “Well, now I’m not going to tell you,” she harrumphs, crossing her arms across her chest and purposefully turning her back on the chief’s son.
“No, no, E’lara! I didn’t mean it,” Junior insists, spinning E’lara back around to face him, barely resisting the urge to tug her into his strong arms since she’s clearly troubled by something. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Please.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Cross my heart.”
E’lara takes a deep breath, screwing her eyes closed before she blurts out the problem that’s been plaguing her thoughts and dreams for the past few weeks.
“I can’t swim!” the Huntress practically shouts, clapping a hand over her traitorous mouth almost as soon as the three words are put out into the open.
Junior, to his credit, doesn’t answer immediately, simply blinks in surprise.
“You—You can’t—” he stutters, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You don’t know how to swim?” Junior inquires softly, gently grasping Elara’s chin between his thumb and index finger and lifting her head upwards towards him.
“No,” E’lara manages to squeak out. “And I’m supposed to hunt Epioth this week for the Guild… Not to mention the whole reason I was assigned here was to help kill the Lagicrus who, last time I checked, dwells primarily underwater,” the brunette Huntress scoffs, embarrassed by her own inabilities.
“I’ll teach ya at the base camp right here in the Woods,” Junior promises, squeezing E’lara’s much smaller hands in his. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret,” he vows.
Author's Note: I had no idea at all that this pairing would be so fun for me to write, but it has been so enjoyable to see how these little drabbles of E'lara and Junior practically seem to write themselves! This fandom of games was one of the very first video games I ever played and I have such amazing memories of playing it for hours on end with my Dad and telling him about all the successful quests I had completed if he was at work when I played before school in the mornings. I fully intend on posting many more Monster Hunter drabbles about E'lara and Junior as well as just tales of E'lara and her Palico Alfred. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little story. Kudos, likes, and comments are always appreciated. Until next time, dear readers! Have an amazing day, afternoon, or night!
Credit: The wave dividers were made by @diviniyae
Summary: "A normal woman would have swooned!" the famed wizard insists, thinking of the reactions any other woman in Market Chipping surely would have had upon receiving the romantic gesture.
Written for Day 30A of @swoon-june 2026 for the prompt "Swoon". Set a few months after the conclusion of the first book and the movie.
Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle
Rating: G
Sophie could practically see the brewing storm in Howl's crystal blue eyes and the whine that would surely leave his lips before he even began speaking.
"Cheated, robbed, publicly humiliated!" Howl laments, practically wailing as he throws himself dramatically into the armchair in their newly expanded moving castle.
"Whatever are you going on about now, Howl?" Sophie inquires as she rolls her brown eyes, wishing at the last second she had bitten her tongue so as not to feed into Howl's ever-present flair for the dramatic.
"You didn't even swoon, Sophie!" Howl shouts in exasperation, similarly to how he did when Sophie had rearranged all of his bathroom products and he ended up with orange hair. "A normal woman would have swooned!" the famed wizard insists, thinking of the reactions any other woman in Market Chipping surely would have had upon receiving the romantic gesture.
"I'm still not following," Sophie admits, hanging her coat and scarf on the rack nearest the Porthaven door.
"I brought you flowers and what do you do? 'Oh, these are beautiful, Howl', and then you just kept working!" he sighs dramatically, a few of the ceiling tiles shaking with the exhale. "There was no kiss, no hand above your heart, no swooning of any kind, not even a simple sigh!" Howl continues his lament, covering his eyes with one of his forearms as he slumps further down into the chair. "You're truly impossible sometimes, Sophie."
"Funny, I was just about to say the same about you," Sophie quips, her voice low and a quirk of a smile appearing on her lips as she teases the great Howl Pendragon, reduced to such a longing state.
"Calcifer, help me out here," Howl turns his attention to the fire demon crackling silently in the hearth. "Surely you understand..."
"Not on your life, Howl," Calcifer denies immediately, sparking just a bit higher with his refusal. "I won't be dragged into another one of your little spats. The last time that happened, I only got leftovers from dinner," he reminisces, thinking back to the day when he got the scraps left from Sophie and Howl's plates, as Markl had eaten all his dinner as growing boys tend to do.
Sophie glares.
"And they were very good leftovers, I must add. My compliments to the chef," Calcifer amends, shrinking himself into the smallest flame possible so as to avoid Sophie's ire and the ever present threat of a cold bucket of water being dumped on his face.
Sophie nods and smiles in approval.
"Markl, you must see how ridiculous Sophie is being, right?" Howl then turns his attention to the youngest member of their rag-tag family, the boy returning from a magical errand Howl had sent him on in Kingsbury.
"Oh, look at the time, Master Howl! I must be going about my lessons before dinnertime," Markl insists, grabbing his messenger bag from the worktable and heading for their alchemy table. "I still have to practice that newest spell you taught me where I don't accidentally turn your hair pink....." he trails off, shutting the door firmly behind himself so as not to be in the middle of the lovers' quarrel.
Markl and Calcifer have both learned their lesson on sticking their nose into the couple's banter many times over and do not wish to repeat the experience any time soon, thank you very much.
"Dearest, you know I love the flowers you brought me today," Sophie insists, thinking of how beautiful the red and pink blooms had been when Howl presented the fresh bouquet to her when he entered the shop this afternoon to walk her home. "They're gorgeous! How could I not love them?" she continues, wanting Howl to know just how grateful she is for the kind-hearted gesture. "But, we do own a flower and hat shop not to mention you did gift me an entire field of magic flowers when I was still in the body of a ninety-year-old woman. It's going to be hard to top that, darling," Sophie smiles wickedly, knowing that Howl has truly set the bar for his future gifts sky-high even by his flashy standards.
"Ah, so my past actions have come to haunt me," Howl realizes with an expression of abject horror on his face. "Don't worry, Sophie, I shall outdo myself the next time and your mind will truly be blown!" he insists, thinking of the next surprise he has planned for his darling Sophie, the woman who both returned and owns his heart.
"I have no doubts about that, Howl," the budding witch smiles softly, crossing the room to where she stands in front of the armchair, extending her hand to offer Howl some aid in finding his feet. "Now, come, wash up and you can help me prep dinner for tonight. I'm making your favorite," Sophie reveals, knowing just how much Howl loves it when she cooks lobscows for their little family, the dish reminding him of his youth.
"You really are too good to me," Howl whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of Sophie's head before doing the same to her right cheek.
"Don't you forget it," the budding witch winks playfully before she tenderly kisses Howl's lips in return, causing the man's newly restored heart to soar and his blue eyes to cloud over with a myriad of emotions.
The great wizard Howl nervously fingers the small, square box in his pocket, deciding his proposal can wait until another day for when he is completely alone with Sophie. She would surely swoon then, Howl tells himself, a smile glowing on his handsome face as he trails after Sophie where they can begin the dinner preparations.
Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this shameless fluff and I hope you’ll return to read any future Sophie/Howl works from me! Currently ❤️❤️ If anyone has any prompts for me they’d wish to see, drop them below and I’ll do my best to deliver! 😊 I hope everyone has a wonderful day, afternoon, evening, or night. Until next time, dear readers!
My husband introduced me to Howl’s Moving Castle when we were early into our dating life back in early 2020 and I adored the movie! Howl and Sophie are one of my favorite movie couples, hands down. I read the first book in January 2026 despite it being on my physical TBR for years. Although I liked the book and gave it 4 stars, I must say when I re-watched the movie to compare the two pieces of media, I rather enjoyed the movie more…. Don’t hate me for this opinion, please. 😅
There’s something about the entire Wales plot that doesn’t quite make sense to me from the book as well as a few other plot points, hence why I stated in my Howl’s works that I will be cherry-picking plot points. Therefore, my stories in the Howl’s Moving Castle fandom will be my own blend of the book and movie canon worlds. Howl will still notably be from Wales, but I don’t know that it will quite come up in the expected ways. I also hope to read the second and third books soon, but I’m kind of making my own timeline for things, such as the war lasting another year even after the return of Prince Justin because we all know peace treaties take time.
Credit: These lovely Howl dividers were made by @condybunny
Summary: “Mi querida, what is the meaning of this?” Mihawk’s even-cadenced voice calls through the echoing hallways of the gloomy fortress he has built on the otherwise uninhabited island.
Written for Day 29B of @swoon-june 2026 for the prompt "Colors".
Fandom: One Piece (Anime, Manga, or Live Action)
Rating: T
Almost instantaneously after arriving inside his castle on Kuraigana Island, the famed swordsman Dracule Mihawk notices that something is different, out of place even.
“Mi querida, what is the meaning of this?” Mihawk’s even-cadenced voice calls through the echoing hallways of the gloomy fortress he has built on the otherwise uninhabited island.
“Amor, you’re back,” his lover smiles widely, crossing the length of the living room in three quick strides.
She then moves to perch on the arm of Mihawk’s beloved chair that resides in front of the splendid, crackling fireplace. A playful smirk appears on her lips as she beckons the World’s Strongest Swordsman forward with her index finger as desire and want shines in her chocolate-colored eyes.
“Isa, you’re not going to distract me from that monstrosity, no matter how beguiling you may be,” the raven-haired man deadpans, settling himself into the massive armchair before he pulls Isabella into his lap, sensually pressing a kiss to the woman’s forehead and then doing the same to the hollow of her throat.
“Who’s attempting to be the distraction now?” Isa shudders, clenching a finger in Mihawk’s dark hair, slipping the feathered hat off the warlord’s head. “Also, I have no idea what monstrosity you’re referring to, as the only one I see are those hideous monkeys you keep outside,” she whispers, flames dancing in her eyes from the reflection of the fireplace.
Mihawk harrumphs, casting his hawkish gaze onto the coffee table mere inches away from his feet.
He quirks a brow at his love, rolling his eyes at the antics he’s found himself a part of.
“I do believe these flowers were not here when I left for that wretched meeting with the navy,” the words escape his lips with a dramatized, beleaguered sigh.
“Oh, those,” Isabella laughs, having known very well the entire time just what Mihawk was referring to upon his return home. “Well, it’s just always so dreary and morose in this castle, especially with you gone, tesoro” she continues, stroking one manicured finger down Mihawk’s cheek and beard until her hand rests at the base of his strong jaw. “So, I thought a pop of color could brighten the place up in your absence. Surely you cannot fault me for that?”
“Ah, but now that I have returned, you no longer need that revolting shade of yellow, mi corazón.”
“And if I said they reminded me of your eyes?”
“Then I’d insist we go to the nearest doctor to have your head examined, cariña,” Mihawk rolls his piercing eyes without any real malice behind it, grasping Isabella’s head lovingly in his hand before pulling her in for a kiss, soft and slow, their heartbeats syncing.
Author's Note: I always really enjoyed Mihawk in the anime, but the effort that Steven John Ward put into bringing the World's Greatest Swordsman to life really solidified Mihawk as one of my favorite non-Strawhats in One Piece. When I thought long and hard about what I could write for the prompt of "colors", I eventually thought of how funny it would be to have an unsuspecting Mihawk come home to his otherwise morose castle and find an invasion of color.
I hope you all enjoyed this little story. Kudos, likes, and comments are always appreciated. Until next time, dear readers! Have an amazing day, afternoon, or night!
Credit: Dividers were made by the talented @acrimson-embrace
Shadowed Strength (Mihawk x OC series)
If you'd like to join a tag list for this series, please message me!
Summary: Robin appreciates the view of Regina all dressed up in her signature color, red.
Written for Day 27B of @swoon-june 2026 for the prompt "Kiss on the Hand".
Fandom- Once Upon a Time
Rating: G
“You look gorgeous, Regina,” Robin reverently whispers, crossing the small space between them.
His crystal blue eyes firmly lock on the Queen’s stunning figure in her scarlet dress, watching appreciatively as the fabric accentuates the woman’s natural curves.
“Why, thank you,” Regina smiles widely at the compliment, her eyes crinkling in the corners with the overflowing happiness she feels around the golden-hearted thief.
“Shall we, milady? There are two young lads eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. You’re my absolute favorite view,” Robin reveals, pressing a kiss to Regina’s hand as he tenderly grasps it in his own.
Author’s Note: Outlaw Queen was one of my earliest OTPs, back when I was just a pre-teen. Season 3 started airing when I was thirteen and I was obsessed with these two together from the very beginning. I was extremely upset for the angles the showrunners took starting in Season 4 and was disappointed in the soap opera style the show started to take on, which is why I stopped watching it after the end of Season 5. The entire Marian/Zelena plotline still infuriates me to this day because I just wanted Regina and Robin to be happy together….
I wanted to take Swoon June as an opportunity to try to get back into writing Outlaw Queen and I am proud of myself for managing to contain everything in a 100 word drabble limit. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night, dear readers and I'll see you next time!
Credit: These beautiful apple dividers were made by @lariesographic!
Summary: "Why do your forehead kisses always put me in such a good mood?”
“Well, there’s a science behind that, a code, if you will."
Written for Day 26B of @swoon-june for the prompt "Forehead Kiss".
Fandom- Scorpion
Rating: G
Happy Quinn sighs contentedly as Toby collects her against his chest, squeezing her arms tightly around his waist with as much strength as she possesses. The fedora-wearing psychiatrist lovingly drops a kiss to Happy’s forehead, a wide smile practically splitting his face in two at the physical contact with the woman he loves.
“How was your day?” he whispers into her raven hair, settling his chin atop the crown of Happy’s head, still holding her flush against his body.
The two had been apart for most of the day, Happy’s aid required at the garage and Toby’s shrink abilities needed on a mission with Cabe, Walter, and Paige in a remote town in Maine.
“Uneventful for the most part. Got some of those new prototypes prepped for Homeland,” she answers, always happy to spend times amongst her tools and the cyclone’s mathematical geniuses. “Sylvester, Ralph, and I had Kovelsky's for dinner. Kid’s idea,” Happy continues with the recap of her day, practically burying her face into Toby’s chest while inhaling her fiancé’s unique scent.
Toby continues to pepper the hard-hearted mechanic’s forehead and cheeks with kisses, earning him Happy Quinn’s elusive, yet beautiful, smile.
“Sounds much better than my day watching Paige and Walter dance around their feelings for one another,” he quips, chest shaking with the residual traces of laughter.
“Speaking of feelings…. Why do your forehead kisses always put me in such a good mood?”
“Well, there’s a science behind that, a code, if you will.”
“Oh, spare me the science lesson, Doc,” Happy laments, rolling her dark eyes at the man she will soon be marrying.
“Honey, I have to give you the medical explanation as a doctor,” Toby deadpans, his chocolate-colored eyed filled with mirth.
“In case you forgot, Toby, you’re a shrink, not a family practitioner…”
“I still had to go to medical school, darling.”
“Get it over with, then,” she acquiesces.
“The forehead is filled with a high number of nerve endings. My kiss helps to send signals of oxytocin and endorphins to your bloodstream, which lowers your cortisol levels. Thus, the kiss code.”
Author’s Note: I love Scorpion so much! My parents introduced me and my sister to the show when I was in high school, back when Season Two was airing on TV, as they knew I would love it after they watched Season One live. Now, nearly eleven years later (which seems beyond crazy to say!), I’m still as obsessed with this show as I was when I was a teenager. Toby and Happy are one of my top OTPs of all times, so when I saw this prompt, I knew I needed to jump into writing for them again. I’ll hopefully brush up and edit the Scorpion stories I wrote back in 2017/2018 to share with you all hear.
I'm currently four months pregnant with my first child in real life, so Swoon June has gotten away from me, but I'm desperate for family fluff these days! Since I'm so far behind with this and the May writing challenges I wanted to undertake, I did limit myself to a short story or we'd be here all day because I could write Quintis fluff forever….
Credit: Dividers are by @sister-lucifer
Summary: "Fern spends her days surrounded by a sea of red and she would not have it any other way." Written for Day 26A of @swoon-june 2026 for the prompt "Red".
Fandom- Frieren: Beyond Journey's End
Rating: G
If an outsider were to look at the hillside at this current moment, they would surely think the grass and bracken had been set ablaze. Red streams down the hillside of the small village, a cacophony of shouting voices quickly joining in the fray, shrieks piercing the air in tandem. Wiping her hands on a thread-bare cloth from where she had been washing clothes in the sultry summer air, a certain first-class mage lifts her head to witness the sheer chaos that is overtaking the otherwise calm countryside. Her purple eyes crinkle in amusement as she takes in the sight before her, a soft smile spreading across her features.
Stark, now a dashing, strong, renowned warrior in his third decade of life, shouts with such untamed ferocity as he rushes down the hillside, branches scratching against his bare forearms.
“First one to get to Mommy is the winner!” Stark smirks, his voice carrying all the way to the family’s cozy cottage below.
Volker, their eldest and a young warrior in the making, picks up speed, his eyes narrowed in concentration in his haste.
Bastian, their middle son, revered by all those he meets due to the kindness inherited no doubt from Stark, pumps his shorter legs as fast as he can in hopes he can catch up to his elder brother and father.
Finnick, their youngest at six months, sits atop Stark’s broad shoulders, squealing happily as he shoves a hand in his mouth.
Fern spends her days surrounded by a sea of red and she would not have it any other way, collapsing under the weight of her four boys as they pile atop her, kisses coating her cheeks, forehead, and lips from all angles.
Her husband and their trio of redheads…
Fern’s genes were surely in there somewhere.
Author's Note: Stark and Fern better be endgame or I will riot. I adore our soft-hearted warrior and seemingly cold young mage! They are two of my favorite fantasy characters to date and OMG do I love them. Let's just say I was kicking my feet during the dancing scene in Episode 15 as well as the entirety of the date episode.... I'm currently four months pregnant with my first child in real life, so Swoon June has gotten away from me, but this prompt screamed Stark/Fern to me when I first saw it and I'm desperate for family fluff these days! Since I'm so far behind with this and the May writing challenges I wanted to undertake, I did limit myself to a triple drabble or we'd be here all day.
My husband suggested we watch this show because he knows how much I love fantasy, particularly those with found family and magic. You'll see I'm very equally obsessed with adventure stories and quests, notably One Piece, Spy x Family, and other media in this same vein. Frieren has easily become one of my favorite shows and I've watched the series in its released entirety twice over now.
I have created an expansive list of more Frieren universe stories I'd like to write some day, but if you have any prompts you'd like to see that are non-explicit, please feel free to drop them below. Why is there such a lack of Fern/Stark content???? Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night, dear readers and I'll see you next time!
Credit: The dividers used on this post are from the lovely@cafekitsune
Summary: Bilbo spends a relaxing evening in the Shire with his three favorite things: his books, his armchair, and his garden. Set sometime between the conclusion of The Battle of Five Armies and before The Fellowship of the Ring. Can be read with either the movie or book adaptations of the characters. Written for Day 18 of @domaystic 2026 for the prompt "relaxing evening".
Fandom: The Hobbit (Book or Movie verse compliant)
Rating: G
After a long day of toiling in his garden, Bilbo Baggins closes the door softly behind him, inhaling the delicious aroma of potato soup bubbling on the stove. The hobbit places a loaf of bread into the oven to toast as an accompaniment to his supper before he adds more logs to the crackling fire. Autumn is one of the Shire’s favorite times of year when the harvest is plentiful and the weather is cooler, allowing for its residents to make their favorite soups and stews.
Bilbo walks over to his favorite armchair that is, regretfully, beginning to look a bit more worn these days due to its owner’s habits. He sets a mug of steaming tea on the circular ottoman at his feet, balancing the bowl of soup precariously on his knees. Bilbo’s newest book sits on the armchair, ready to be devoured. He comfortably settles into the chair, peace settling deep within his chest. Although, the hobbit cannot quite seem to escape the irony that it’s much quieter than he would like in his own home without the sheer chaos he has grown accustomed to. Traveling with thirteen dwarves and one meddling wizard will do that, after all.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or night, dear readers and I'll see you next time! This drabble was also cross-posted onto my AO3 of the same name. Also, yes, this was totally inspired by Bilbo's quote about "I miss my books and my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong." I thought it matched this Domaystic prompt perfectly.
Credit: The dividers were made by @ivy-vinezz.
