#HE LOVES NATURE AND SPRING AND THE SMELL OF AIR AFTER IT RAINS

[reddtulips]

something something ghoap staying at johnny’s family farm that’s less than two hours away from glasgow.

they barely reach the damn place because simon insists on driving and takes a wrong exit on the highway and johnny has to piss a hundred times during the drive.

the air is crisp and cold and frosts the tips of their noses and simon forces indifference when johnny’s fingers brush simon’s to hold the duffel bag so he can close the trunk of the car.

johnny knocks on the front door and his mother rips it open, hugging his son and without a second to think, hugs simon as well and ushers them inside.

johnny’s father is a simple man and gives simon a firm handshake and a pat on his back and shows him the dining room, a feast set on the table and every salad under the sun overflowing in hand painted bowls that johnny’s mother made when she did pottery ten years ago.

johnny’s sisters are there, his niece and nephews as well, all children and simon sweats thinking how in the hell he is supposed to talk to them. are the boys at the appropriate age to know about guns and knives? or do they look at encyclopedias of greek mythology and dinosaurs? does the niece like barbie and dress up? or is she one of those girls that like to collect bugs and draw hopscotch on the pavement with colorful chalk and wipe the excess from her fingers onto her pants?

they watch him with eager eyes and giggles smothered behind tiny hands, and watch in awe when he lifts his balaclava to expose his mouth so he can eat.

johnny does the talking at the table and simon can’t understand a fucking word he’s saying because he’s gone full scottish with his family, only hums and nods occasionally. he wolfs down every piece of food, the human trashcan that he is (and because he doesn’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal), and nearly combusts for a second time that day as johnny’s mam places a plate with a thick slice of apple pie in front of him, vanilla ice cream melting over it and puts a hand on his shoulder, “johnny told me ye have a sweet tooth, so i made it especially for ye.”

simon who does silent breathing exercises so he doesn’t cry because he misses this so fucking much. to sit down with a family and enjoy a meal together with loved ones and not fight, nor scream nor yell nor cry nor throw food nor break plates and it’s just laughter upon laughter upon claps on the shoulders and clutching at arms and pulling each other into side hugs and light jabs that mean nothing and don’t break into full blown fights and simon thinks he’s going to vomit.

simon who gets to see johnny’s childhood bedroom. it’s decorated in superhero posters and hanging medals and trophies from gymnastics and competitive shooting competitions. johnny turns sheepish when simon points them out, teases him and likes and fears the swirl of warmth in his chest when johnny’s ears and neck turn red. he’s told “still a better shot than you,” and if johnny were anyone else, he’s be given toilet cleaning duties for the next three months.

simon who wants to pull out and empty every drawer, check every nook and cranny and learn and suck in every single piece of information and story there is about johnny and what — there’s pictures of you as a kid? with a mohawk? fuck off, soap, lemme see.

johnny opens the left door of his wardrobe and it’s covered in baby pictures of him and his family and simon’s chest tightens but he doesn’t break his gaze. Lo and behold, Johnny points out a picture on top and holy shit, it’s him holding a fat, orange cat the size of half his body and he’s sporting a long mohawk. His cheeks are stained with tears but there’s a forced grin on his face and blood on his chin. johnny explains it was his 7th birthday, he fell off a swing, hit his chin and his mam still wanted a photo. the cat’s named ‘fergus’ and he’s still alive and has lost most of the weight. he explains more photos but simon’s eyes keep coming back to the first one and he just wants to lean down and leave a gentle kiss on the scar covering johnny’s chin.

the kids don’t leave simon alone, as much as uncle johnny protests and tells them to get tae and let ‘em rest, he’s been drivin’ all mornin’ but watches them from the kitchen with a soft smile as simon walks around with the kids hanging and clutching at his strong arms like they’re monkeys and simon can’t get enough of their giggles and ooh’s and ahh’s when he tells them heroic and child-friendly war stories about their uncle. he also tells them that he sucks ass at taking orders and sharing his MREs and that they should listen to their parents and respect their elders and share with each other. johnny smothers a grin behind his hand as simon uses his lieutenant’s voice when speaking to the kids about these things.

johnny steals simon away then, “gotta show ‘em the horses”, and simon keeps his distance and doesn’t dare get up on one of them. the cockiest, “scared, Lt.?” with a shit-eating grin from johnny makes him grab the reigns and climb on. johnny leads the horse down the field and they fall into a comfortable silence. simon can’t get enough of the peace and quiet and chirping of birds and gentle yet chilly breeze on his hands and johnny is suddenly coming to a halt.

simon looks down at his sergeant, and his cheeks are flushed red and there’s determination and well-masked hesitation in his blue eyes and before simon knows it, he’s being pulled down by the sleeve of his jacket and johnny is cupping the sides of his face and pressing a gentle kiss over the material of simon’s mask. it’s innocent, quick, almost like it doesn’t even happen and isn’t registered. but their gazes meet when they part and it’s over for both of them because simon is fervently pushing his mask up and cupping johnny’s cheeks and they’re both leaning forward again and pressing kiss upon kiss upon kiss on each other’s lips and simon finally thinks,

i’ve found it. i’ve found home.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Too close to home - Tyler Owens Imagine

A/N: Alright babes, so here she is. Hope you guys like it. This is based off an actual tornado I experienced last year (Gotta love tornado alley).

Spring. It was your favorite season and also your least favorite season at the same time. It was the time of year when they flowers started to bloom, it started to warm up, and everyone seemed happier. However, it was also the time of year when tornadoes were the most prevalent. Living in tornado alley meant you were well versed in the forces of nature. They were big. They were mean. They didn’t care what was in their way. Ever since you were a kid, they scared you. You knew the signs and you watched out for them when they came.

It was the dark clouds. It was the smell of rain in the air. It was the cool air and the warm breeze mixing together to bring a perfect mix of chaos. It absolutely terrified you; especially since you worked at a news station and saw what happened when you covered storm damage.

Now, your boyfriend, was a whole other story. You were dating the tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens, and the two of you could not be anymore different in your opinions on the monstrous forces of nature. He thought they were beautiful and wanted to chase after them. You thought they were horrible and wanted to stay far away. But, each and every spring you let him chase his passion as long as he promised to keep himself safe and always come back home. He promised and had yet to break it.

It was your two year anniversary and the two of you were cuddled up in bed watching a movie. There was a tornado warning in the area, but Tyler had been watching the tornado tracker on his phone and he felt like there was next to no chance that the ones on the ground would come anywhere near your shared home. Most nights, he would be out chasing the storm with his crew, but he had agreed to stay home with you tonight to spend time with you to celebrate your anniversary.

Your head was on his chest and his fingers were combing through your hair, both your eyes locked on the TV. Outside, the storm was starting to pick up. The thunder was starting to get louder and the rain was starting to pound on the window harder; hail starting to mix in with it. Your eyes widened at the sound, but Tyler didn’t seem to even blink twice, his hand moving down to soothe down your spine. Of course, leave it to the tornado chaser to not even blink at a severe storm. You wished you shared his bravery, but you definitely did not. As the storm started to progress he picked up his phone to check the weather and the tornado tracker, still seeing that there was nothing coming towards you guys and you were safe to not take shelter.

But, as you were sitting there you could start to hear a train in the distance sound like it was passing through and you felt confusion start to cloud your mind. You didn’t remember any train tracks near your house.. But, it definitely sounded like there was a freight train passing by. You looked at Tyler just as his phone rang, one of the guys he chased with calling him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to standup, answering the call. He pulled the blinds back and revealed a severely dark sky outside your window before he looked at you, eyes wide. The train was getting louder and louder. “Yeah. Ya’ll stay safe.” Just as he was going to hang up the phone, the entire house went dark as the power went out. In the dark and the silence of the house you could barely make him out walking swiftly towards you. He was normally calm about everything so the swift way he was moving made a sense of dread settle through your bones and into your stomach. You had never seen him like this and you had watched him race towards tornadoes hundreds of times by now without even seeming to be phased. But, whatever was happening right now had him rattled.

“We have to get to cover now.” That was all he said as he reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together as he pulled you towards the back door of your shared home. You had never once heard him warn you to take shelter, so something really bad must be happening. The two of you made your way outside and everything was super dark. Rain was pelting down from the sky in massive drops as it mixed with hail. The wind was whipping around you and Tyler held your hand tight as the two of you made your way towards the door that was propped up outside of the ground. He started to open it, turning around to see a massive funnel cloud making its way right towards your house.

You felt your blood run cold as it started to descend down towards the ground and you heard him urging you to hurry, reaching out to grab your wrist. He was yelling something but you couldn’t hear him over the wind, you just could make out the sound of him yelling but the words were incomprehensible. You felt a tug on your wrist as he ushered you inside, standing to take in the beauty of the descending tornado as it tore down on your neighborhood quickly.

“Ty!” You yelled out for him as you made your way down the stairs, the chaos of everything making you feel more panicked than you already were. But, the look on his eyes said everything. The passion. The dedication. “She’s damn perfect.” You could tell he was either saying the words or mouthing them, but the wind was taking possession of his voice. You knew he was wishing he was chasing this storm. However, that would’ve meant you would be dealing with this alone. You had never been in a storm like this before and now you were about to be in the eye of a tornado.

He finally snapped out of his trance and made his way down into the cellar with you. He slammed the door shut behind him, locking it into place with the deadbolt as you turned on the flashlight on your phone.

Luckily when you had moved in you had stocked the storm shelter with some food and water and a bag of clothes for each of you if you guys would end up needing it. But, you hoped and prayed you wouldn’t. You turned on the lantern the two of you kept down there as you grabbed one of the few blankets you had down there and you tried to make yourself comfortable, hearing the wind howl outside through the door.

“C’mere.” The southern drawl was the first thing you heard your boyfriend say since the two of you had left the house. He had his arm out for you as he turned his phone on to the weather channel, pulling up the radar as the weatherman went on and on about the tornado that was now knocking on your front door.

Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you slid in close to his side, covering both of your laps with the blanket as you tried not to think about what could potentially be happening a couple of feet above you. Would it take the house? Would it take your trucks? The barn? You didn’t want to think about it and you hid your face in his arm as he slid a hand under your shirt, rubbing soft circles into your skin with his thumb. “Itll be alright, darlin’.” You knew it would be, but the anxiety was still running rampant through you as well as guilt for him staying home with you tonight.

“I’m sorry you’re here and not out there right now.” Your voice felt too quiet for the situation, but you let it stay like that. Ever since you had started dating, you had never made him miss a storm. You had always told him to go. Told him to just be safe and keep you updated. Every single time he did. But, tonight he had insisted and now it was eating at you.

You felt his eyes look down at you as he sat his phone down, now using his free hand to tilt your chin to look up at him. “I would rather be here with you. If I was chasing that storm, I would be trying to outrun it to get home to you,” He kept his eyes locked on yours as the words left his lips, the normally cocky smile he wore replaced by a small, genuine one. He started to stroke your cheek with his thumb, leaning down to capture your lips to seal the words in. “There will be other storms. But there’s only one you. I’m glad I was here to keep you safe.” The words were barely a whisper as he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile forming on your lips as you kissed him again.

There might be damage done by the storm and you would probably be cleaning up debris for a couple of months, if not longer. But, you had Tyler and he had you and both of you were safe. That was all that mattered as you cuddled up to him in the storm shelter and waited for the all clear, updates coming in from his guys as they chased the storm that came just a little too close to home this time.

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem @paigewinchester67

[postmortemnivis]

spring was simon’s favourite season.

maybe because it meant rebirth, seeing the trees turn a vivid green again and the fields full of flowers and colours gave him hope. he loved to wake up and open his window in the early days of april, when the world was finally getting rid of the chilly morning breeze that always made him sick the first weeks of winter. every time he felt the air getting warmer, he couldn’t wait to change his heavy winter jacket into his windbreaker.

maybe it was because his birthday was in may, and despite not having celebrated it like he should’ve when he was a kid, he knew you would never forget to wake him up with a soft peck on the lips.

‘morning birthday boy.

if you asked him, he would tell you he liked spring better than summer because the weather was more enjoyable, not too hot yet not cold. spring’s light showers were his favourite noise to wake up to, after the one of the coffee maker he got you for christmas.

the real reason simon was so devoted to spring, almost as much as he was to you, were you. what did you expect from him?

he knew you probably couldn’t remember, but all those years back, you two met in early spring, after a particularly difficult winter.

simons life had been a deep, cold and dark winter for the past years. two, five, ten, who kept count anymore? his days would blend one into the other, seasons slowly bleeding into the next, he almost couldn’t tell the difference between august and february. seasonal depression was real, but somehow it lingered all around the year for him. that was before you.

you were the first shy sun ray that filtered through the clouds, quite literally. you, as fresh as the cold rain, and your heart, as warm as a late may afternoon, were all he needed to get out of his hibernation. you were what simon needed to wake up, the signal that spring and all beautiful things were on the way, that he needed to arise and get out of his hollow tree.

for the first time in years, simon’s eyes realized that spring was blooming everywhere around him, he was just too deep into his winter, blind, to notice; the flowers were blossoming, as beautiful as ever. he was grateful.

for you, for spring, for the sun finally caressing his face and skin and for your sweet kisses, each of them feeling like the first warm day after months of wind and snow.

“good morning, birthday boy.” you whispered as you kissed his lips.

simon squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them. he’d heard you get up, of course, the moment you started stirring in bed he was informed you were awake. you could try to keep the military out of the house, but the instincts followed him home, whether you liked it or not.

your bright smile was beaming at him, your hands on his bare broad chest as you sat on his hips, your thighs on either side of his waist.

“‘mornin’ beautiful.” he mumbled, resting a strong hand on your hip as he sat back, leaning against the headrest.

“breakfast’s in the kitchen,” you smiled, “i made coffee too.”

he hummed. “can smell it. i heard you too.”

you grinned.

“what’re grinning at?” he tiredly grinned back.

“want me to bring you breakfast in bed?” you said, “we can stay here in bed all day if you want to.”

he shook his head. “nah, love, i’m coming to the kitchen. i’ll be ready in a minute.”

you brought your lips to his again before getting off of him and caressing his cheek as you walked back to the kitchen, waiting for him.

his eyes followed your figure until you left the room, and he raised his gaze to the ceiling for a minute before shuffling his feet to the bathroom. he closed the door and stood in front of the sink, his hands on either side of the ceramic. his brown eyes, so dark they looked black, remained fixed on his reflection before he walked to the big window and opened the panes.

“simon?” you called. “baby, your coffee’s getting cold!”

his broad figure stood there, studying the nature outside. there was a small park in front of the flat, a little green heaven where mostly children went to play, he could hear from there the laughters and giggles. the trees, wild cherries and guelder rose followed the small street, their branches almost reaching the top floor where you lived.

“comin’ love.”

it was the middle of may, almost summer, and simon took a big breath of the fresh morning air before leaving the window open as he turned around and walked to the kitchen, right into his little piece of spring.

[sigilslvt]

Until The End • Suguru Geto

☣︎ Summary: Suguru Geto. The name that used to give you butterflies and come wrapped in nothing but sunshine now only makes you feel a deep void in your heart. Three years ago, your high school sweetheart defected. He gave no warning, offered up no signs of his emotional state, he simply... left. What will you do now when he shows up after all this time?

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Fem Reader

Tags: fem! sorceress reader, ex boyfriend! suguru, angst, pre and post jjk0, mentions of murder, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, creampie, whiney geto, stalking, heartbreak, pregnancy, death

WC: 6.6k

A/N: hehe, i know i said happiness would come soon, but the mood struck, so ANGST! feel free to send suggestions for a happy fic, though!

The wind stirs through the sprawling campus of Tokyo Jujutsu High, carrying the soft scent of rain on the horizon. It’s spring, your favorite season. You’ve always loved the way rain kisses the apples of your cheeks when you look to the sky to see the pillowy clouds just before a storm starts. You’re sitting on the steps outside the training hall, your knees tucked up to your chest. It’s quiet—a rare, fleeting moment of peace. The faint hum of distant voices from other students training filters through the air, but it feels like a world away. From behind you comes a familiar voice, warm and teasing, breaking the spell of solitude.

 Your favorite voice.

“Spacing out again?”

You turn your head, a grin already forming. Your beautiful boy is approaching, his hands casually shoved into his uniform pockets, that usual spark of mischief glinting in his beautiful purple eyes. His presence feels like sunlight breaking through the clouds, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps. He’s a comfort you never knew you needed until he walked into your life. His hair, tied neatly in its usual ponytail, catches the light, and for a moment, you’re reminded of how effortlessly radiant he is. He saunters over, his movements unhurried, and settles down beside you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because it is. It’s so natural to just gravitate toward each other at this point and you love it. He loves it. He feels like he belongs, truly belongs when he’s with you.

“I was just thinking,” you reply, your voice soft. He leans closer, tilting his head in that way he always does when he’s truly listening. It’s one of the things you’ve always loved about him— how present he is, even in the smallest moments. His head rests on yours, making your body feel all warm and tingly inside. The faint smell of his cologne, a subtle mix of cedarwood and something floral, lingers in the air between you, grounding you in the moment.

“About what?”

You hesitate, glancing down at your hands, the delicate scars lining your fingers feel more pronounced under his gaze, like they’re a testament to the battles you’ve fought and the fears you’ve buried so young. “About the future. What comes after all of this. After Jujutsu High. Our lives are just gonna consist of curses, curses, and more curses.”

“And each other.” He interrupts.

“You know what I mean.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound low and soothing. “You’re not thinking of quitting, are you?”

“No,” you say quickly. “It’s just... hard to imagine what life will look like. Fighting curses, protecting people who will never even know our names. Sometimes it feels endless.”

Suguru is quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The sky above is streaked with shades of orange and pink as the sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Then he reaches over, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch is light, tentative, but it’s enough to send warmth blooming through your chest. It’s… testing. To see if his normally strong and steadfast girlfriend will allow him to comfort her. You relent, intertwining your fingers with his and he squeezes your hand.

“You’re not alone in this,” he says, his voice steady. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out together. I’ll be with you until the end”

You look at him, your breath catching. There’s something unspoken in his eyes, something deeper than words. It’s in the way he looks at you, the way he always seems to know what you need to hear. In that moment, the uncertainty that’s been gnawing at you fades, replaced by a quiet, steadfast hope. You believe that as long as he’s by your side, you’ll be able to face whatever comes next.

He smiles then, his thumb grazing the back of your hand. “I’ll love you until the end, you know,” he says, almost teasing, but the words land heavier than you expect. You laugh softly, brushing it off, but a part of you holds onto them, tucking them away in the deepest corners of your heart.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Three years later, that hope feels like a distant memory. Especially now.

You stand frozen in the doorway of your apartment, staring at the man who had disappeared without a trace. Suguru Geto. His name feels foreign now, like a ghost of the boy you once knew. He looks older, sharper, his features etched with a hardness that wasn’t there before. Worn by the hatred for non-sorcerers. His dark hair is longer now, loose and falling over his shoulders, and he sports a gojogesa rather than his usual black t-shirt and sweats. But his eyes— those same amethyst eyes that once held so much warmth are fixed on you with an intensity that makes your chest ache.

He’s standing there so casually. As though he never left. As though he hadn’t broken your heart and left you to pick up the pieces. “I need you,” he says, his voice low and urgent. It’s the first thing he’s said to you in three years, and it cuts through you like a blade. The weight of his words crashes over you, dredging up emotions you thought you’d buried: anger, longing, confusion, and an unbearable grief.

Your fists clench at your sides. “You need me?” you echo, your voice trembling with anger. “You left without a word, Suguru. No explanation, no goodbye. You killed over a hundred people and then killed your parents. You said goodbye to Shoko and Geto. And now you just show up and expect me to—”

“I couldn’t break up with you,” he interrupts, his tone desperate. He takes a step closer, and the faint scent of him—still cedarwood but now tinged with something darker, heavier—invades your senses.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you how I was feeling because I didn’t want to let you go and I knew we wouldn’t be on the same path from then on. I told myself that if I didn’t end it, then… then we would still be together. Still be okay.”

Your breath catches, your heart pounding in your ears. “So what? You didn’t want to give me a chance to change your perspective!? To steer you in the right direction? You thought leaving without a trace was a good option? Do you have any idea what that did to me!?”

He flinches, guilt flickering across his face. But there’s something else there too, something darker. “I couldn’t stay,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not with the way the world is. Not with the way sorcerers are treated. I had to do something.”

“Defecting was the answer?” you demand, your voice rising. “Turning your back on everything we fought for?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his tone sharp. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand,” you plead, your voice breaking. “Tell me why you chose this path. Tell me why you left me.”

For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor. The tension between you is suffocating, the silence heavy with unspoken truths. Then he steps even closer, his hand reaching for yours. You don’t pull away, even as your heart twists painfully in your chest. Even as every atom that makes up your body tells you to.

“I left you because I loved you,” he says, his voice raw. “I knew that if I stayed, I couldn’t protect you or create the world you deserved. I didn’t want you to get caught up in my choices until I was sure I could do it. I hoped that you could see that all of it— all of this was… ” he trails off for a moment, seemingly rerouting his brain. “Do you remember that one day in spring? When you wondered about what life would be like after high school?” he asks.

“What about it?”

“I helped you through it by telling you what you wanted to hear, but… but really I was happy that you were questioning things, too. Because ever since Amanai… since Toji… I realized that we were just slaves to those who will always see us as dirt on their shoes without knowing all that we sacrifice for them. I saw the look on your face and I knew then that I couldn’t keep fostering a world where that’s all that we know. Where our kids would know. I found a better way. This is the better way. The only way for us to live happily and free from the shackles of being a jujutsu sorcerer. We can live for ourselves, not for the weak. No more fighting. No more loss.” he explains desperately.

The sincerity in his voice is like a knife to your heart. You want to hate him for all he’s done, to push him away, but the love you still feel for him won’t let you. It’s a cruel, unrelenting thing, binding you to him even after everything. That bond solidified by the knowledge that even though he did things in a sick and twisted way, he meant good. He wanted to make the world a better place. For you. Always for you.

And while you’re trapped in your thoughts, he brings your knuckles to his lips, breaking you from them in the way he always used to do. Your gaze softens and you take him all in while he’s in this state. For a second, he looks once again like the boy you fell in love with. Soft. Caring. Strong. But you can’t let go of the fact that he isn’t him anymore. Not fully. And you resent him for taking that boy from you. “I hate you.” you spit, an obvious lie.

“I love you.” he replies.

“You should go.”

“I know.”

And yet neither of you move. Not for a few moments. And it’s thanks to those few, uninterrupted moments that he has the time to work up the courage to press himself to you, bringing your hands up around his neck. He’s so close you can feel his breathing on your forehead, but you don’t look all the way up into his eyes, afraid you’ll wake up from a dream if you do.

“I need you.” he echoes the first words he said to you in three years.

And just like that… you’re done for.

You finally look up, gaze landing on his, the expression on his face full of the very need he claims to feel. When your eyes soften the way they always used to for him after a silly argument, he knows… he knows you need him, too. His lips mash into yours and the kiss is desperate, teeth against teeth, swallowed breaths, and strained grunts as he closes the door to your apartment behind you, placing his palm on it to protect your head before slamming you against it.

He breaks the kiss to look at you. Really look at you… and all he can think is that you look so much more beautiful up close. Three years of watching you from afar, of keeping tabs on you without getting caught did nothing for him the way seeing you right here in front of him did. You look tired. So tired. He hates seeing you like this. Knowing you slave your life away for weak people, spending every day putting your happiness— your life on the line.

He’s ripped from his thoughts when you stand on your tippy toes to nuzzle your nose against him. “I’m right here.” you murmur, seemingly reading his mind. He nods, kissing you again, but this time it’s slower. Passionate. Loving and loving mixing together to make you both drunk on each other.

Strong arms lift you, bringing your thighs to wrap around his waist while he takes you to your bedroom, your mind too focused on how your boy is now a man— a strong, beautiful man, for you to question why it is that he knows the layout of your home down to the laundry basket even you bump into that’s in the hallway just in front of your bedroom door.

He places you on the bed gently, standing to look at you again. “Stay.” you breathe, unsure of whether or not he was thinking of leaving, but speaking anyways. He smiles as though he’s lost another silly decision about where to eat again like when you were younger and your heart flutters. He’s utterly helpless against you.

You watch as his fingers move to undo his gojogesa, letting the top half fall off his broad shoulders and hang off his waist before bending to hover over you. “I couldn’t leave even if I tried.” he murmurs, pressing kisses from your lips to your cheek, then your jawline, and finally your neck where he bites down gently, sucking a mark into the soft flesh that joins your neck to your shoulder.

You use the opportunity to lift your hips and slide down your leggings, but he stops you before you can get them too far, shaking his head. “Please let me take my time. I need this… to savor this.” He pleads, knocking the breath from your lungs with the look on his face. He’s so beautifully pained that all you can do is nod.

His fingers replace yours, hooking into the waistband of both your leggings and underwear and slowly pulling them down while he kisses your belly… your hips… your mound… and finally they’re off and your cunt is laid bare before him. He doesn’t rush to it though, no, he instead moves back up your body to kiss you again, hands splaying out on either side of your stomach, gripping at whatever fat he can get as his tongue invades your mouth, tasting you— the sweetest thing he’s ever known.

He only breaks the kiss to remove your shirt from your body, pleased to find that you’re not wearing a bra. His head dips into the crook of your neck and he swipes his tongue on it, his hands pinning and brushing up, up, up your arms until his fingers intertwine with yours. It’s a grounding gesture, one meant to keep you in place and him in this moment.

“Tell me you still love me…” he breathes and you can’t believe he even wonders. As though you not turning him away or capturing him and calling Satoru wasn’t enough. He really was still the boy who always needed reassurance behind closed doors.

“I’ll love you until the end.” you echo the words he once told you three years ago. He smiles at the memory, taking in your smell before moving to pepper lingering kisses along your collarbone, your chests, and finally your breasts. He places one of your hands in the other so he can hold them with only one of his own, opting to knead at one of your breasts while his mouth tends to the other.

Thumbing the hardening pebble with one hand, his mouth works on the other, tongue swirling around your nipple before he sucks with enough pressure that has your back arching up into him, cunt beginning to just weep onto your bed. He chuckles at the shaky moan you release, his warm breath ghosting on your now cold nipple and making your body jerk.

He doesn’t linger there long, moving down to kiss your mound and finally releasing your hands, his hands sliding down your body and instead finding purchase on your breasts before he’s slotting his head between your thighs, kissing the insides of them sweetly. “You’re a vision of perfection, y’know that?” he coos, making your cheeks burn up.

You’re not given a chance to respond before he’s pulling a gasp from your lips by kissing your clit like he’s hit a bullseye. Your thighs jerk on either side of his head and he chuckles, swiping his long tongue up from your quivering hole to your clit, kissing it again for good measure.

“Sugu…” you whine, a pout forming on your face to complete the look of pure need that has his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. In these years, he’s imagined what you’d look like underneath him countless times. Imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. Fucking his fist pales in comparison to the pleasure he gets from simply kissing your pillowy lips.

You couldn’t possibly be more thankful when he finally begins to glide his tongue between your folds more eagerly, fingers pinching at your nipples at the same time for the added stimulation you needed to avoid going stir-crazy while he worshipped you. He still works his tongue languidly, slow laps to savor your taste that have your gut twisting and a hand snaking down to his head, fingers tangling into his raven locks. “Fuck…” you breathe out, hips bucking into him, other hand gripping the sheets.

The more his warm tongue works against your now scorching hot cunt, the faster your breathing gets, almost in time with the flicks of his tongue against your swollen clit. You can’t bring yourself to look down, feeling his gaze sear itself onto your face without even having to. But, that won’t do for him. He sucks your clit harshly and releases it with a loud ‘pop’, lifting his head from your delectable core.

“Look at me.” he purrs, blowing onto your wet skin and causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. And with that voice, you can’t deny him, not even for a second. You drag your eyes to look down at him and the sight is none other than Godly. His mouth and chin are covered in your slick, face red and forehead beading with sweat as his chest heaves… and those fucking eyes. Those beautiful eyes are looking up at you like you’re the only thing that matters in this world.

He keeps his eyes on you as he starts to work your clit again, his hand coming down to prod his middle finger into you, your legs twitching at the intrusion. “A-Ah, Sugu, I’ve ne–”

“I know.” he interrupts. Of course he knows, you two had never done anything in high school. He wanted to marry you first, wanted to be honorable. He’s never seen you with another man aside from Gojo and he knew that’d never happen. He knew better than to waste time now, no, he wouldn’t let this chance slip away from him.

He glides his finger in and out of you slowly at first, testing the waters as he eats you out, eyes still on you to gauge your reactions. After all, you’d need lots more preparation before he could fit himself snugly inside you. He presses a second finger against your hole, pushing past the muscly ring of resistance to fit inside of you along with his middle finger. You hiss and he stills, watching as your brows knit together and you take a deep breath, blowing it out to steady yourself. “You okay, angel?” he asks.

Angel. The nickname he had blessed you with so long ago. One you’d long to hear from the shadows, at a coffee shop, or just back at Jujutsu High signaling that he’d come back. And he finally has. “Don’t stop…” you force out, not wanting to waste any time, either. The stretch is uncomfortable thanks to Sugu’s admittedly large fingers, but you’ve fought curses since you were thirteen, you can handle pain. Especially if he’s the one to deliver it to you.

The look of pride on his face is so glaringly obvious as he smiles against your sodden cunt, beginning to pump his thick digits into you again, pulling a lascivious moan from your lips that he swears is an angel’s song. But with the way he begins plundering his fingers into you as a reaction, you’d think you’d have moaned a siren’s song instead. He’s chasing more of them, more moans, more slick, more beautiful twitches of your brow when he hits that spot.

And he gets it all. You writhe and wriggle beneath him while he eats you out and pumps you full of his digits again and again. He pulls back to watch your cunt greedily swallow his fingers up and he almost chokes, the muscle clinging so tightly that it comes in and out with his fingers, pulling him back in every time he pulls out.

With that, he’s attached to your clit again, sucking and swirling his tongue around it with a hunger that has you seeing stars. The knot that’d formed in your stomach is now tightening to a point where you feel it might just snap and with just one low, gravelly, pussydrunk moan from him– it does. Your hips buck and you’re turning your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut as you grip his locks, keeping him against your pussy while you just cum, cum, cum, all over his fingers as he works you through your orgasm with quick flicks and sucks on your clit before he slows to a stop.

You will yourself to look back down at him, chest heaving as you catch him pulling his fingers out to suck your slick from his fingers, his eyes rolling back into his head while he literally growls at the taste. And if you thought he was pussydrunk before, you were sorely mistaken. Pussydrunk becomes pussy crazed and he stands, undoing the rest of his gojogesa to let it fall to his feet, stepping out of it and slowly approaching you. Your eyes fall from his own down to where his need for you is strongest and your breath hitches. 

You always knew Sugu was big, it was never a secret. You two’d never done anything before, but back then he’d practically get hard whenever you were around him. This, however, is more than just big. He’s fucking hung. You wonder if you should’ve held out on cumming so he could train you a little longer with a third finger, but that time is long gone and you know he can’t hold back any longer. You don’t want to either, but…

“You can handle it.” he snaps you from your thoughts. The words sound more like a promise than reassurance.

You tremble with anticipation, backing up further onto the bed and resting your head against your pillows as he settles himself between your thighs. He looks down on you like a predator looks at its prey– calculating and hungry. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him down into a kiss, his body moving upward so he can rest a hand on your headboard. His fat tip smacks your clit, dripping pre onto it in small beads, making you whine. It’s heavy and hot against you and you can feel it twitching when it comes into contact with your slit, accompanied by a hiss from him when he breaks the kiss. 

“Just relax for me, Angel, okay? It’ll be less uncomfortable that way.” he directs you, voice low and strained and breath ghosting against your lips. You can tell he wants this just as much, if not more, than you.

“Okay, baby…”  You say and you can hear the way his breath hitches in response, swearing he snuck a little ‘fuck’ in there.

His grip on the headboard is so tight he thinks he might just splinter it, but he knows he needs to steady himself, so he holds on anyway, promising himself to just buy you a new bed if he breaks yours. His other hand reaches down for his length, gripping the base of his shaft and sliding himself between your folds to collect your slick and make it easier for him. The contact has you both groaning and he can’t help but look into your eyes again as he positions himself at your entrance, testing the resistance with his tip.

“It’s okay, baby, give it t’me.” you reassure him.

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s sheathing the tip inside of you, causing you to suck in a sharp breath at the stretch. The second he feels your gooey, gummy walls around him, it’s game over, truly. “Sh-Shit!” he hisses out, actually breaking the headboard above you, wood pieces falling beside your head. You look up at him and can see the restraint on his face. He’s holding back for your sake.

Your hands glide up his chest and caress his face. “You got it, baby, just breathe. Breathe.” You tell him, taking slow and deep breaths again and again until he starts following your lead, calming himself down as much as possible in this situation. With your nod, he pushes in further until he’s halfway in and you’re writhing underneath him, the sheer girth of him stretching your walls thin. The hand that’d been guiding his cock now finds purchase on one of your thighs to keep you steady, trying to stop you from shying away from or fucking yourself deeper onto him.

“Almost there, Angel. I’m gonna make you feel good…” he promises you, grunting as he slowly pushes forward again. He’s thrusting in, in, in, and scraping against your gummy walls until his balls hit your ass and he’s fully sheathed inside of you, a shaky, high pitched whine falling from his lips.

You’re breathing heavily, tiny little whimpers freeing themselves from your throat between each breath, legs shaking, fingers digging crescents into his shoulders to ground you. For a few moments, all you two can do is stare at each other. In awe, in lust, in love, you stare. It’s him that breaks the silence. “Baby, if I don’t move now, I’m gonna cum. You’re squeezing so tight, I gotta loosen you up a bit.” He grunts out, pulling all the way out before gliding forward again, back home to your welcoming wet heat.

“S-Sugu… s’deep… you’re s’deep!” 

“I know, pretty girl, I know.” He coos, leaning forward to dig even deeper, still using the broken headboard for support. He pulls back for just a moment before rolling his hips forward, impossibly heavy balls smacking against your ass as you moan out, pulling him down for another kiss. You need it desperately to keep yourself from fainting at the way he feels inside of you.

You’d heard so many stories about the first time being painful and bloody and this was not that, no this pain turned to pure pleasure. Maybe you were sick for feeling like it, you don’t know.

“More, Sugu, more…” You beg, breaking the kiss and you swear you see the man leave his body for a moment before he’s kissing you deeper, making love to you harder. He rolls his hips into you with perfect precision, free hand folding one of your thighs up higher so he can aim for that spot that makes your mind go dumb.

He breaks the kiss to look at how fucked out you already look, his brows knitted, sweat dripping from them. “God, you’re s’fucking tight, Angel… I can’t st—hah stop!” He warns you, pressing more of his weight down onto you as he drills himself into your squelching cunt, your hole twitching and struggling to stay stretched around him as he churns your insides.

You’re fucked utterly stupid. He’s not even fucking you fast, just so incredibly deep and hard that he knocks the wind from you with every thrust. Between how good it feels and the lack of oxygen, you can only allow him little ah, ah, ahhs while he splits you open on his length over and over again. You can tell he’s fucking you with the intent to make you feel just how much he’s missed you. So it’s only fair that you do the same.

His lips are hovering over yours and you fist his hair roughly to bring him to you, kissing him hard, teeth gnashing together as you squeeze your sopping wet cunt tighter around him. He gifts you with a growl that ends in a whine as he picks up the pace, now removing his hand from the headboard to fold you up and stuff you so good you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t do anything but feel. Feel him. Feel his weight fully pressed onto you, now.

You can’t help but look down between you to catch a glimpse of his length disappearing into you every time he thrusts, a small but noticeable bulge poking just below your navel when he gets in nice and deep. There's a ring of slick forming around the base of his cock and dripping down his balls that makes you wanna lick it up and the way his hips stutter and then ram into you slower, deeper, and rougher when you think that makes you realize that you’d actually said that out loud. And there’s that feeling again in your core. Strong and pulsing, teetering on the edge. You’re so close.

“So fucking nasty, d’you know that? You and this pussy. M-My pussy… my pussy, baby, my pussy… say it’s mine. Say you’re mine.” He whimpers, making you tear your eyes from where the two of you are connected to look up at his face. His cheeks are red, mouth agape, brows meeting in the middle, and he’s heaving. The moment you make eye contact, he throws his head back, hips faltering again. He’s close too, you can feel it.

“I’m yours, Sugu, it’s yours… all yours! Fuck! Yes, yes, yes!” You moan in time with his thrusts before he kisses you hungrily, quickening up, but not at the cost of how deep or rough he’s delivering every precise thrust. He wants you to cum first, but you’re holding out, you wanna cum with him. You rip your kiss bitten lips from him to coax it out of him. “S’okay, baby, cum… cum in me, it’s yours…” You bite your lower lip after you speak, keeping your eyes on him, your own brows knitted in pleasure as your pussy flutters and tightens around him.

That’s all he needs to fuck into you one last time, delivering the last thrust you need to cum, too. Nails clawing down his back, cries reverberating off your bedroom walls, you’re arching up into him and he’s pulling you flush to him, up onto his thighs while his arms wrap around your back, hands reaching your shoulders and pushing you down onto his length as he stuffs his face in your neck. He groans and moans and bites into your flesh as he ruts himself into you, getting out whatever spurts of cum your nasty pussy can get from him and overstimulating you both all at once.

It takes a few minutes for you both to catch your breath and he stays buried in your neck the entire time, laying down on top of you with his cock still buried in the deepest parts of your cunt. This feels perfect. So perfect that despite all he’s done, you want to save him, still. His heartbeat is steady, a quiet reassurance that he’s still here, still alive, still yours.

In that moment, every tear you’ve shed and every sleepless night spent missing him seem to dissolve into the fact that he’s here. His touch is both familiar and foreign, a bittersweet reminder of what you’ve lost and what you still crave. The room is dimly lit by the pale moonlight dancing on both of your skin. His hands trace the contours of your body, memorizing every inch as if he’s trying to etch you into his memory. But he doesn’t have to..

“Stay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Stay with me. Talk to the elders, plead your case, and maybe they’ll understand enough to give a light sentence. Please. Please, Sugu, I don’t want to lose you again.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. “I think you give the elder’s too much credit. Nevertheless, I’ll do anything— everything... for you.” he says, and there’s a heaviness in his voice that makes your chest tighten. 

You want to believe him, to hold onto the hope that he can change. And as the night passes, he shows no signs of leaving. He tells you what he’s done for the last three years aside from the cult, tells you he’s always watched you, tells you that he couldn’t stand being away from you anymore. That he was ready to come here and bring you to his side and he’s happy you’ve accepted him. It’s a peaceful night and eventually, his voice paired with his soothing touch lulls you to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, he’s gone. The space beside you is cold, and the ache in your chest is unbearable. You sit there for what feels like forever staring at the empty bed, tears streaming down your face. He’s gone and somehow you know that this time… he’s not coming back.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Six years pass and life moves on, even though the pain doesn’t. The first two years, you disappear with the help of Gojo. You knew that if you stood and Geto came to you again, you’d break completely. You couldn’t, as you had a new reason to build a better world. A new life to protect growing inside you. When you give birth, it’s magical, but something is missing. You miss Suguru. You hope that by some miracle, he’ll come to you and raise your little girl instead of spewing all the hatred he does.

The next four years are easier. You have a support system and everyone in it helps with your daughter. Everyone loves her. You throw yourself into your work as a jujutsu sorcerer, burying the memories of Suguru beneath layers of duty and resolve for the sake of being a good mother and sorcerer, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t forget him. He lingers in the corners of your mind, a shadow you can’t escape.

Now you’re standing in the middle of a training session with first-year students when the piercing wail of alarms shatters the quiet morning. Every head snaps up, tension rippling through the air like an electric charge. You motion for the students to stay back, your instincts already kicking into overdrive. The higher-grade sorcerers are moving toward the front of the school in unison, their expressions grim. It’s Gojo’s expression that catches your eye. He’s upset— angered, even. It’s not often he shows those emotions and so you follow, your heart hammering in your chest.

When you reach the entrance, the sight awaiting you sends a chill down your spine. Suguru Geto stands at the gates of Jujutsu High, flanked by members of his cult. His presence is overwhelming, his aura darker and more oppressive than you’ve ever felt. He’s smiling, but it’s a cold, calculated thing, devoid of the warmth you once knew.

“I’m here to declare war,” he announces, his voice echoing across the courtyard. The gathered sorcerers bristle, their hands instinctively going to their weapons. “In one week… one thousand curses will be unleashed across Japan. This is the beginning of a new era.”

You step forward before you can stop yourself, breaking through the line of sorcerers in the front, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and heartbreak. “Suguru, stop this! You don’t have to do this! Please, this isn’t the way!”

His gaze lands on you, and for a moment, something flickers in his eyes—a fleeting shadow of the boy you once knew. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a steely resolve. You muster up the courage to say the one thing you think will reign him back in and it’s spewing from your mouth immediately. “We have a ki—”

“This is the only way,” he interrupts, his tone final. He turns his back to you, his voice ringing out one last time as he walks away. “Until we meet again.”

You’re standing there, your heart ablaze with anger and hurt. The weight of this betrayal feels heavier than ever, and yet, a small, stubborn part of you still hopes that he’ll come back. That he’ll choose you over whatever darkness has consumed him. That he’ll realize that you can both be happy being jujutsu sorcerers so long as you have each other.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The battle a week later is chaos. The air is thick with cursed energy, the clash of sorcerers and curses echoing like thunder. You’re on the frontlines, fighting alongside your comrades, but your mind is elsewhere. When you hear the news that Suguru has been defeated by Yuta Okkotsu, your heart sinks. You don’t know what to feel—relief, sorrow, or something in between.

An hour later, you’re pulled from the battlefield by Satoru. He doesn’t explain much, simply grabbing your arm and teleporting you to an alley shrouded in shadows. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Suguru lying there, his body torn apart and blood pooling beneath him. The sight of him steals the air from your lungs.

“I thought you’d want to say goodbye,” Satoru says quietly before stepping back, giving you space.

You drop to your knees beside Suguru, your hands trembling as you reach for him. His eyes flutter open at the sound of your voice, and he smiles faintly, the edges of his lips tinged with pain. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

Tears blur your vision as you cradle his face in your shaky hands. “Why?” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Why did you have to do this?”

“I told you,” he rasps, each word a struggle. “I did it for us. So we wouldn’t have to fight anymore. I thought… I thought I could make a better world for you.”

“You didn’t have to do it alone,” you say, your tears falling freely now. “We could have figured it out together. Like you promised.”

He smiles again, softer this time. “We would have died trying. And she needs at least one parent.”

“Sh—” your throat closes up. “She? You know abou—”

“O’course I do. Who d’you think was giving her those lollipops you get onto her about, hm?” He musters up a weak chuckle, blood spurting out of his mouth, staining his lips.

“You…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. Not wanting to say goodbye.

“I’ve always kept my promise, you know. I love you. Until the end.” He murmurs. You can see the light fading and you want to will him to stay, to fight harder, but you can’t. You know it’ll end like this one way or another.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I love you. I’m so sorry, baby, I— I love you, please.” You cry, closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his. His hand brushes against yours one last time as if to reassure you before it falls limp. 

The world around you seems to still, the weight of his absence pressing down on your chest like a physical thing. You sob uncontrollably, pressing kisses to his pale face, closing his eyes, and apologizing again and again. If only you hadn't questioned your place in the world as sorcerers all those years ago, if only you’d tried harder to convince him, if only you’d captured him when he showed up to you. He’d still be alive. You don’t know how long you sit there, holding him, but when Gojo finally pulls you away, you feel like a part of you is being ripped away with him.

As you’re taken from the alley, the echo of his final words lingers in your mind. Despite everything, despite the pain and the loss, you know one thing for certain: you will always love him. Until the end.

[starlostseungmin]

what loving you feels like — hwang hyunjin.

⊹ 𓍯 • 　𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. 　ー　𝟢.𝟨𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝖾𝗇.

𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 !!

　loving hyunjin is like writing in your most beautiful calligraphy on a paper letting the tip of the pen dance on its blank canvas. a poet writes his poems for his muse just as a painter paints his imagination being inspired by nature. he’s the poet, and you are the poem. you are the words his pen writes to create a line and a verse. the inspiration he gets to form a picture on his black canvas with a specific color of paint coated around his brush to bring his imagination to life. hyunjin is like reading a love letter to you in moments of genuine affection. still, those moments happen whenever you’re with him. 

　loving hyunjin is one of the reasons why you wake up every morning when the gentle sunlight peeks through the gap in your semi-opened beige curtains. his name is the one you’re waiting to read when the phone rings and hearing his voice heals the scars in your heart until it becomes new again. a face you’d love to see amid a chaotic crowd and a smile that you’ll fight for just to prevent it from fading. the acts of service with his subtle advancesーhe’d tuck your hair behind your ear just to see your beautiful face, especially when you smile. a hand around your waist as you walk in public, a gentle kiss on the forehead and lips before saying good night, whispers of “i love yous” when you’re in his armsーhyunjin struck your heart like cupid on valentine’s day. 

　loving hyunjin is believing that everyone might think that the things he does for you are just the bare minimum but it is something that warms your heart like the cookies you baked together fresh from the oven. your love blossoms like a new flower blooms in spring after the ruthless winter. but what can you say about misunderstandings that lead to crestfallen arguments? winter is beautiful just like any season. it may cause the coldness of your hearts but the longing for each other causes the fire to burn. hyunjin admits he’d stay away until the heat dies down but he can’t be away from you for too long. 

　loving hyunjin is the laughter and memories you share as the seasons change. the summer that you were together was spent delicately as you held hands by the shore, planning your future together. he’d take pictures of you with the beautiful sunset behind, witnessing what a relationship with him looks like. the start of dawn with your coffee by the balcony and a back hug leaving a kiss on your bare shoulder as his good morning. his familiar scent that smells home, his presence alone makes you feel that you don’t need anyone else in the world but him.

　loving hyunjin is a new hope for you, he will and always. his love for you is like breathing the fresh air you’d breathe in the mountains filled with grass and flowers with the clouds passing by. the sound of it is like the song of birds you’d hear in the province. you’ll never be someone that he’ll ever identify as a stranger. even if he’d scribble a lot in his heart, you’d never tell him to rip it apart. no one is going to toss the treasures that it took years to find and he’d always choose the valuable diamond over the grasping rock. no matter how raucous the rain is, there is always a rainbow after it. hyunjin would look at those intoxicating eyes of yours filled with fondness and devotion as he sees eternity. 

　what loving hyunjin feels like… a quill pen writing a love letter on an empty parchment paper to be sent out to his lover. patient, poetic, sincere, and romantic. 

⊹ 𓍯 • 　　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @myjisung , @arrasuh , @hanverse-recs 　( open )

[krispycreamcake]

For whom the church bell tolls

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fandom: Diabolik lovers

Pairings: Yuma mukami x Shu Sakamaki (Yui's here too)

Tags: angst, enemies to lovers, childhood friends, slow burn, dialogue driven, mlm, love triangle, mentions of death, child abuse, blood, blood sucking, kinda kinky if you squint, biblical themes

Content summary: A cute little chat between repressed homosexuals

Also not proof read leave me alone

It was the middle of fall, the air was crisp, the sky dull with apprehensive winter gloom, leaves just beginning to fully finish their golden transformation, the smell of rain always being there. Parks now lay barren and empty as school children finally resume their classes after summer vacation, what was once an active town filled with the shrill voice of students, now lay disturbingly quiet with the deafening sounds of adults' judgemental glances and whispers.

The mansion at this time of year was more depressing than usual, ironically it was probably the most peaceful. Almost no one was ever home, Reiji would make sure of it that none of his brothers were to miss any of their classes, especially during such a slow time in the school year. Lots of students often wouldn't show up to school at all in favour of staying warm inside their homes. This was also flu season for Ryoutei Academy due to the harsh cold mixed with the close proximity of students. All one would hear in the hallway were marching footsteps and the occasional coughing of sickened students pushing themselves for that glint of validation for exceeding their parents' expectations and bringing honour to their family name.

Shu didn't mind attending his classes at these times due to the peaceful nature of an empty school. Of course that doesn't mean he was paying any attention in class or completing assignments. It was for this very reason that him and Reiji were arguing right now.

"You worthless slob. Tsk- I don't even know why father bothers sending you to such a well renowned academy. This is the 4th time this week a teacher has pulled me aside to say that you aren't doing anything in class, and one time you even walked out during a lecture!"

Reiji said as he propped up his glasses with his middle finger, slamming shut the book he was reading for dramatic effect.

"And yet I'm still the favourite. Why don't you just shut up and stop wasting your time."

Reiji felt his chest tighten as a slur of detestable words started to fly out his mouth in such a commotion that Shu had no time to process what he was even saying. He popped in his earphones and teleported to the graveyard.

The cold winds of the night howled and whipped through his hair, blocking his eyesight as he leaned against an unmarked grave. Red, yellow and orange leaves rustled under his weight as he crushed them to bits. Pale hands gripping what was left of the leaves, the bright and lively colours contrasting the surrounding area, and more importantly, his feelings.

He leaned his head back as he turned up the volume of his iPod. His breathing slow and concentrated, almost forceful. Usually, Reiji's words never bothered him, but he had just woken up from that dream again. Flames everywhere, the smell of smoke suffocating his lungs as he stood there helpless, unable to do anything but watch.

He felt tears spring up as he scrunched his face, delicate features writhing in agony. His index finger brushed up against his cheek, feeling the tears for what they were.

"Typical... How bothersome. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to forget. Even after hundreds of years, you still haunt me. Heh.. Was that your intention all this time? What a stalker..."

His body tensed as a wave of wind rushed past him. Face immediately turning into a scowl as the smell of decay hit him like a bus. His body rigid as he sat up.

"Show yourself."

Was all Shu said before a long pause of silence enveloped the cemetery. Before long, Shu heard a chuckle. The winds carried the sound so far away that he couldn't detect where it even came from.

'Thump'

An apple had fallen from a tree above Shu, hitting him directly on his head. He swiftly looked to the ground to observe the fruit before the same voice called out again.

"Ya know yer s'posed to look up not down right?"

Shu's head immediately spun around, eyes searching through the trees before almost immediately spotting the third nuisance of that dreaded household. Yuma Mukami. For such a hard worker, it seemed odd to see him sitting lazily on an apple tree branch, completely relaxed with such a smirk on his face.

"You did that on purpose."

Shu replied bluntly.

"Harsh winds."

Yuma retorted just as quick.

"Whatever. Just stay out of my way, you and your brothers are too much of a hassle to even have to go to school with."

Shu said as he put back in his earphones.

"Hmph, everything for you is a hassle. But what could you really expect from such a lazy asshole? I'm surprised you even made it all the way out here without falling asleep."

Yuma said, taking a bite out of the fruit.

"Heh- you're bold when you have nothing to be cocky about. Maybe you're into that sort of thing?"

Yuma raised his eyebrow at this before taking another bite, speaking with a mouthful of apple.

"What the hell are ya on about? You tryna insinuate somethin'?"

Shu smirked as he finally looked up at him.

"Well, you're here aren't you? You're a long way from home, so one can imagine the lengths you'd go just to see me."

Yuma snorted just before a piece of the apple almost got stuck in his windpipe, causing him to cough and sputter all over the place. Shu in the meantime, feeling pleased with how this interaction went, decided to step away from under the tree and take in his bewildered expression.

"Haa? Are ya right in the head or somethin'? I'd never go for such a slow guy like yourself!"

Yuma shouted from above.

Shu clicked his tongue before his face went cold suddenly.

"She's not here."

Yuma finally stopped munching on the apple before looking him directly in his eyes. Their gazes meeting in a silent battle for dominance.

"You knew?"

Now, it was Shu's turn to laugh.

"Wasn't it obvious from the start?"

Yuma flung his head back as he looked up at the leaves above him.

"I suppose."

Shu walked right up under him and put his hands into the pockets of his cardigan.

"Make no mistake, there's no way I'd let half breeds like you even think about getting your hands on my prey, let alone taking it."

Yuma didn't respond, too busy thinking about how he's going to tell his older brother that he failed his task.

"If that's all that you came here for, you can leave now."

Despite their almost friendly banter before, the air had now turned sour, the stench of pent up aggravation for one another permeating the atmosphere. They were just too different. So why was Shu disappointed?

Yuma finally jumped off from the branch he was perched up on, a heavy thud breaking the silence.

"Where is she?"

Yuma said, the apple in his hand now lay limp as he barely put in enough effort to hold it correctly, one twitch of a finger and the fruit would have fallen to the ground.

"Why would I care?"

Shu didn't even bother to turn around and face him, in turn he just stared blankly at the field of graves beyond him.

"Tch- you should."

Shu didn't miss a single beat before responding.

"I don't. I don't care whether she lives or dies, she's only prey. The only thing that's remarkable about her is the quality of her blood."

Yuma felt something rise within him, like a deep slated anger for something more than just this conversation.

"It's always you damn rich kids that never appreciate the good things in life. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. High quality prey and you can't even be bothered to know where it is! What a bunch of stuck up assholes, all of you Sakamakis."

Yuma snapped back at him, memories of constant injustice plaguing his mind, as he remembered how awfully he was treated as a kid.

Shu didn't respond and instead just began to leave the situation.

"Hey! I'm talkin to ya! Don't you know it's rude to walk away when yer conversatin' with someone!?Stop walking goddammit!"

Yuma shouted as he ran up and harshly tugged on his shoulder, forcing Shu to stop in his tracks.

It wasn't long before Shu quickly became agitated and immediately spun around to confront Yuma. He didn't say a word, instead just looking directly at him, his eyes scanning over his attacker's build.

"What a stuck up prick. I thought I told you stop where you were goin?"

Yuma spoke up, not feeling the slightest bit intimated by his stare.

"If you really want her, then you can go look yourself. She's in the church."

And with those words, Shu immediately teleported away.

Yuma was taken aback and just stood there.

"The fuck is that guy's problem?? Why'd he just...."

Before Yuma could say anymore, he followed Shu's advice and went to visit the church.

There she stood, about to get on her knees and devote herself to the eternal divine. No regret flushing her cheeks, no panicked heartbeats or irregular breaths. Her school uniform was still untainted as she clasped her hands together, fang marks being covered by the long sheet of fabric that made her sleeve, hiding her sin and tucking it away from the watchful eye of the holy one.

How ironic, because she knew more than anyone else, nothing could ever hide from him. Especially not one of his most prized possessions being devoured by Satan's seed. Maybe it was out of respect that she covered her flaws, to not spit in the face of God and dare threaten his unwavering love and mercy by showing just how bad of a job he was doing when it came to protecting his most devout follower.

Nonetheless, there she lay, hymns chanting over and over in her mind. However, all that did was get Yuma more riled up. He stalked over to her before quietly sneaking up right behind her. He forcefully grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it back as hard as he could, watching as her eyes shot open and immediately became teary.

"Y-yuma kun! What are you doing!? Please- stop!"

Was all the poor girl could muster due to her increasing pain. Despite everything, no matter what she went through, Yui never screamed harshly or made it known that she was in obvious pain, except for the polite indications she'd often spew out. Through it all, Yui remained ever gracious and gentle, despite people belittling her for her soft nature, she knew it was the right way to be. That's just the kind of person she was.

Yuma chuckled sadistically.

"Well sow, as sexy as you looked gettin' all on yer knees like that without anyone forcin' ya too.... The only man you should ever worship....is me."

Yui blinked in shock as Yuma raised her to her feet and spun her around, hand clenching her jaw in the way that couples would often do, thumb caressing her cheek as his pointer finger pressed into her mandible, squeezing her face together.

He studied her expression, taking in the perpetual fear she wafted off onto him. His sharpened gaze dug into her skin, forcing her eyes to back away and surrender.

"What? Can't stand a little staring contest?"

Yuma probably thought he was the funniest person in the room, but the truth was, no one was laughing.

His smile dropped as he scolded her for not humoring his little jokes. The brutality never ended between vampire and prey, no matter how small or stupid the situation might be. He grabbed her by her throat, calloused hands squeezing her esophagus, bruising her newly healed skin with marks of his own, these ones not being as easy to seal up. He watched mercilessly as she clawed at him, begging him, crying for him to stop. He watched. He looked. He stared. But never, did he see the painful situation in front of him.

Yui's eyes watered as she felt her chest tighten and her body feel light. Not here... Oh god not now. She tried as hard as she could to push him away, but instead let out pathetic gurgles that made her abuser laugh at her attempts to save herself.

"W-why..? Yu.... Ma kun..."

Her face turned blue, hoping that in her last moments conscious, she could get some answers. Nothing in her life made sense, so it was only reasonable for her to continuously question the unknown. The only thing they haven't done to her by this point was cut off her tongue to physically silence her, yet, she wouldn't put it above them.

Just before her vision became completely dark, she heard Yuma mutter a curse word before letting go of her. She lay limp on the floor after her body crashed with the cold marble.

"So you came."

Yuma said, almost under his breath like if he'd been anticipating this.

"How daft are you? Did you really think I wouldn't?"

Shu said, words like daggers as he made his way over to Yuma. The pale moonlight made him seem ethereal as he flew down from the edge of the church's ledge where paintings and candles were propped up on. His being floated towards Yuma, a magnificently made glass mural of Yeshua painted behind him. His body covering the holy lord every bit of the way, yet the angels and trumpets surrounded his heavenly figure, playing a mocking melody of worship still lay visible, celebrating their saviour.

His golden locks just barely covering the deep blue intensity of his orbs, skin unmarred by the battle of time, face as delicate as the last surviving rose of winter. Cold, beautiful, on the brink of death itself. Despite his calloused expression, Yuma couldn't help but feel warm just looking at this falsely angelic creature slowly descending towards him. Eyes widened with curiousity like a child discovering something new that it still cannot yet comprehend. That feeling of the ever approaching dread of the unknown, mixed with the fascination all humans are born with.

Unknowingly, he stepped over Yui's cold unmoving body to get closer to Shu as he finally made his way down.

"Took ya long enough."

Yuma said, throat unbearably dry.

"Why were you trying to kill her?"

Silence enveloped the both.

"I wasn't-"

Shu's gaze hardened as he cut off Yuma.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear any of your lies. Stop wasting my time and tell me why."

Yuma put his hand in his pocket casually, obviously not caring about how upset Shu had gotten.

"She's not just your prey. I can do whatever the fuck I please with her."

Shu grinded his teeth but tried his best to keep his nonchalant demeanor.

"Thought ya didn't care whether she lives or dies?"

In a second, Shu's eyes immediately widened. A smile of disbelief almost gracing his face.

"So that's why...."

Yuma looked surprised and confused.

"The hell are ya talkin bout now? That's why what?"

Yuma said defensively, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Heh... Pfft... Ha.. Hah... Hahaha- HAHAHAHA"

Yuma's brows furrowed together.

"The fuck is wrong with ya!? Yer startin to creep me out!"

Shu continued to laugh, eventually holding his stomach to contain himself as Yuma looked on in horror.

"You- me- did you.....really think?"

Yuma's stomach turned at this.

"Did I think what!? Spit it out asshole! Stop bein' so cryptic."

Shu couldn't gather himself as he continued laughing, eventually tears began streaming out as he almost fell back, a hand covering half his face in an attempt to hold himself together.

"H-hey... What's with this whole act you're puttin on? It's.....Are you ok? You're...."

Yuma tried salvaging what was left of Shu's sanity but quickly proved futile.

"You- you remind me so much of... Him. It's uncanny! Everywhere I go, he's there. If I'm awake or I'm asleep, he's there. Around every corner, waiting for me, reminding me of the failure that I am! I couldn't- I couldn't even.... Save him."

Eventually the laughter stopped, and all that was left was a heartbroken man trying to stand on his own, but failing miserably as he kept stumbling back. The tears kept coming as both his hands were now desperately and frantically trying to glue back together the bits of his mind as he began to tighten his hold on himself.

Yuma stared at the mess of a man in front of him. He understood none of his ramblings but was determined to figure out what was going on.

"Who do I remind you of? Who are you talking about...?"

Shu stayed quiet for a long time before slowly looking up at him.

"It.... Doesn't matter. He's dead now. He's dead and it's my fault...."

Yuma stepped closer as he cautiously reached out his hand, eventually shaking Shu out of his trance. Just as he did, he watched in horror as the blond's eyes grew dull and dead.

"Look dude, I dunno whatever issues ya got goin' on inside yer head, but you gotta pull yourself together. We all got demons, that's no doubt. Every one of us, even sow over there. But what I'm tryna say is, ya gotta let the past be the past."

Shu looked at Yuma in disbelief. How'd he ever get to the point where he'd be comforted by a half breed?

"D'ya really think whoever it is yer sniveling about would like to see how pathetic you look right now? I'm sure he'd have wanted you to continue living life to the best of yer ability, without regrets! And don't get it wrong- I'm not tellin you this because I care about you or anythin', I enjoy the chase. Ever since I became a vampire, having to track down my prey and forcefully take it from you assholes has been a delight. It sparks somethin' in me."

Yuma paused before slapping the both sides of Shu's shoulders like if he just gave him a pep talk for an upcoming football game. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened.

"So.... Don't let me down kay? Otherwise it's no fun for me at all, so stop yer whinin'!"

Shu calmed down a bit, but the poison still lingered. He began to take deep breaths through his mouth, not having a beating heart meant that trying to calm yourself like this was futile in every way, but he decided to count his breaths. Each number, a step away from the edge.

"I can't even remember what he smells like..... So even if there was somehow a slim chance he was standing right in front me, I wouldn't know."

Shu said quietly. It seemed as if in this very rare moment, he was finally speaking the honest thoughts that came to mind, instead of just bottling it up like usual.

"Ya gotta stop thinkin' so much. The past is the past for a reason, it's not healthy to keep it draggin' behind ya every minute of yer life. You're not even human... So you'd be regrettin' this forever."

Yuma said, a pang of sympathy and understanding hitting him like a bus.

"Look... Ya think we wanted to become monsters? We had no other choice. It was an opportunity to have a restart at everything that ever went wrong.... And a lot went wrong. It's not easy for me to live while the others I cared about just dropped like flies. Course I got my brothers, and I'm thankful for that, but knowing that I'll outlive my own timeline is unthinkable.... I shouldn't even be alive right now, but I am."

Shu stayed quiet this time, mind blank as he begrudgingly listened.

"None of us had a great childhood, hell even a good one! Ya probably don't know this, and that's cause you shouldn't, so don't go blabberin yer mouth bout it! But...."

Yuma paused, apprehension thick in the air. It was almost suffocating.

"The world is a cruel place, humans are cruel. We were barely even teenagers when that guy came to us."

Shu was slightly taken aback, but refused to let it show. Still, that's how long that their precious father have been in contact with these people?

"What I'm gettin' at is, the world's unfair. But if you can bend it to your will, you can have anything nd anyone. But.... I'm not that sorta person, you are. So don't let anyone steal yer throne, or else I'll miss that look of jealousy on your face whenever I'm drinkin from yer sow over there."

Yuma chuckled at this, remembering just how fun it was to tease him. Shu on the other hand immediately became irritated once again and slapped his hands away.

"It's not jealous."

Yuma's eyes widened as he stroked his chin.

"Haa? Never would've taken ya to be the tsundere type.... Were my words so inspiring, you're finally revealing your true colours perhaps?"

Shu scoffed at this before walking towards Yui. But not before bumping his shoulder against Yuma's chest forcing him out the way.

"Oi! What was that about! Hey! I'm talkin to ya!"

Yuma said, extremely offended. Shu continued to walk over and picked up Yui's body. Her neck stained with the marks of her perpetrator. Shu scoffed once more before scanning her entire body.

"Relax I didn't kill her-"

Shu once again cut him off.

"You didn't bite her either."

Yuma casually walked towards the both of them.

"Eh? Oh, I wasn't in the mood. She was all on her knees prayin' and it gave me the heebie geebies."

Shu picked her up bridal style, the slow sounds of her breath the only noise in the entire building.

"Well I am. And she's unconscious so it's no fun. Do you finally see for yourself how much of a nuisance you Mukamis are?"

Now, it was Yuma's turn to scoff.

"You knew where she was all this time, why didn't you just take her?"

Shu walked closer to Yuma, Yui still limp in his arms. He gave a sadistic smirk.

"Because how else would you fulfill your plan?"

Yuma rolled his eyes and shouted out again.

"What the hell is with you and these coded messages!? What plan!?"

Shu dropped Yui harshly at his feet, her body rolling over to Yuma, uniform coming slightly undone as teeth marks that were previously hidden, now shone visibly on her thigh.

"Shit..."

Shu chuckled before looking directly at Yuma.

"Why'd you bite her exactly over my fang marks and not even bother to heal it properly?"

Yuma crossed his arms and pouted his lips.

"To claim dominance obviously!"

Shu stretched out his hand. Grasping a small strand of Yuma's hair, gently tugging on it until he reached the end of the strand.

"The fuck ya think yer doin' all of a sudden!?"

Shu's smile dropped as his voice rung deep within the church walls.

"You're more of a pervert than I thought. I'm just testing to see how far you'll go before I break you."

Yuma's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he stumbled backwards.

"A-are ya out of yer mind!? The hell's gotten into ya!?"

Shu grabbed his arm, forcing him to come back right in the very spot he left.

"I'm not as slow as you think I am. Don't deny it. All this time... You just wanted to get me alone by using my own prey as bait to lure me."

Yuma's expression only got worse as he struggled to make words connect, stumbling across his pronunciations instead, stuttering with every sentence.

"I-it's not like that! Bes-sides I'm not! I- I don't! I'm not into guys!"

Shu looked at him with a toothy grin before responding.

"What a lie."

In seconds, Shu's fangs were on him. His mouth coming in contact with his throat, almost as if trying to kill him. Teeth piercing into flesh that had never felt fangs before, skin writhing underneath as cold unsavory crimson flowed out. Yuma stood there paralyzed, eyes wide as he looked up towards the ceiling. Pain overtook his senses, but was immediately replaced with something more.

"Kuh- ya don't just.... Do that to people."

Was all he could mutter out. Of course, Shu didn't care. But, he did rip out his fangs from the wounded flesh to get a better look at his expression.

"Heh... You don't need to be into guys to enjoy pleasure when it's given to you. But by the look on your face, you already know this, right?"

Yuma looked at Shu, then slowly towards Yui.

"Course I know that.... I'm not some weak minded virgin like sow. But even so...."

Yuma immediately cut himself off as he watched the blood dribble down Shu's mouth. Not just any blood, but his blood. That's when it hit him.

"I'm... Bleeding. I can smell it."

Shu walked towards him, this time he was the one stepping over Yui.

"I know you like her."

Yuma was taken aback but decided to stand his ground.

"What's it to ya if I do? It ain't none of yer damn business!"

Shu looked to the floor. Silence once again.

"You mean that, don't you?"

Yuma hesitated before following his gaze to the floor.

"Course. She's.... Different."

Shu made a 'tsk' sound before angrily approaching Yuma, this time, getting so close that Yuma needed to back away.

"H-hey don't go gettin' mad at me! Seconds ago you were just at my throat!"

Shu scoffed before raising his head up, not even bothering to meet Yuma's gaze.

"I was just curious. Don't think too much about it, because there's nothing to think about."

Yuma felt his hands go clammy at his words.

"Wh-what.."

Before he could even fully process what Shu had meant, he was gone. Yui was gone as well, to no surprise of anyone. But still...

"Geez, what a weird guy..."

Author's note: heyyyyy guys guess who's back😍 sorry I abandoned you but hopefully you'll accept this as my formal apology. I love every one of you and I wanna say thanks for sticking with me even when I'm not my best, I really do appreciate the community we've built on this platform.❤❤

[wintersongstress]

— mornings ;

In the time of spring when the bark of trees and the flat of pavements were washed with rain, Simon liked to visit the farmer’s market after his morning run. He had left you today in your shared bed, doubtlessly still dreaming as the sun dithered behind the veil of clouds, and shrugged on a hoodie, getting his trainers out from a rack in the closet. His route was dewy with a gentle mist, not enough to keep people from going about their day, but it was the good kind that cleaned the city air and sweetened the long brooms of blossoms hanging over the sidewalks.

The canopy over a flower stall dripped onto his hood as Simon stepped underneath it. Bundles of flowers were arranged in buckets with chalkboard plates sticking out, the signs advertising 3 for £10, and he browsed for a bit, thinking of you.

There was a time when all Simon knew about flowers was the memory of a window box in his childhood kitchen. Long gone, he remembers his mother potting red and pink flowers and relishing the process—the fulfilling feeling of dirt beneath her fingernails and the satisfaction of roots tenderly planted. One day a hummingbird flitted to the window while he ate his toast before school, and it was a still moment of wonder as the tiny bird prodded the ruby petals before zipping on, quick as light.

Now he was in love with his own hummingbird. A love rare and fleeting, one that, when you don’t catch it in your hands and earn every moment of keeping it, would flutter away and never return. Love could speak in flowers, he decided, when he first began to visit your flat and admire the fresh bouquet you kept on your table every time he came. I like them, you had said simply, and he smoothed a petal between his two fingers. And though he saw himself as a brute with hands better suited for violence than caresses, he wanted to learn about the gentler things in life he once thought could never be part of his.

Simon frees his nose from his face mask to smell a strange spire of green, bell-shaped flowers he had never seen before.

“Those are called Bells of Ireland,” the aproned shop lady pipes up from behind her booth. He glances over and finds she isn’t put off by his tall, dark, and out-of-place presence in the least.

“I’ll take them,” he replies. Their scent was light and earthy, like mint and lavender mingled, and their bells resemble leaves with their vein-like texture. Rare and exquisite, and perfectly you. He also picks out a cluster of mauve roses and peachy ranunculus, thinking about the way you smiled with your eyes closed when you smell his bouquets, your lips still curved when you kiss him afterwards, and lays them all on the counter.

“What a lucky girl,” the woman comments, gathering his selections and bundling them in wax paper secured with a rubber band. Simon wasn’t so sure. He always thought you could do better than him, but you would never let him catch himself thinking like that out loud. No matter what he believed of his nature, he vowed to fight like hell to be the kind of man you did deserve. So he pays the woman and bids her good day, heading on to the next stall with you on his mind as he picks out fresh strawberries and bread for the beginning ingredients of a wholesome breakfast. 

At home, Simon fills a vase with the tap and trims the flower stems, arranging each fragrant bloom in harmony with the other. He brews one of your favorite teas and sets out the honey, tending to a sizzling pan in between, then decides to open your bedroom window to gently wake you.

A warm and pleasant wind sways the curtains. Amidst their wispy movements you lay on your back, breathing deep and slow, until the song of church bells and finches twittering from the chimney tops flutters your lashes to take in the tranquil morning. Simon draws his knuckles across your forehead and follows your cheek. With sleep soft in your pretty eyes, this was his favorite view of you.

“There she is, my everything,” he murmurs.

“Hmm. I was dreaming.” With a brush of his thumb over your smiling lips, you open your eyes and gaze at him warmly, happily, holding his hand there.

Funny…he muses.

You kiss his caressing hand. “You smell like oranges.”

“I made breakfast.”

And with that you’re throwing the comforter back, springing to your feet and wrapping a sweater around your nightgown-clad form.

“It’s not going anywhere, love,” he chuckles. These mornings were you had the whole day together were his favorite. You sat out on the balcony, taking in the trees with their sprouting green tips and cutting into your French toast, planning your day together with your bare foot resting over his socked one. The sunshine of your presence fills the depths of his chest to the brim with contentment, and he wants it to last forever.

[impala-dreamer]

Tourniquet - Chapter One

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

All The Damage That This Dark World Does

It had been raining on and off for days and the ground was little more than a muddy expanse that swallowed up the soles of their boots like quicksand. 

The forest was dark and the air rang loud with the requiem of nature. Birds sang low and sad; branches crackled underfoot. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled and the hunters froze. Each set of ears turned towards the sound and eyes darted about while tired minds calculated distances. 

Bobby’s gruff whisper broke through the rain’s symphony. “‘Bout a half a mile east.” 

Dean nodded and Y/N squared her shoulders. 

“And where’s the rest of them?” she asked, tone a little harsher than it needed to be as she glared at the old man. 

Dean shot her a look but she didn’t flinch. Mary shifted uncomfortably between them, not wanting to get involved. 

Bobby adjusted his cap and shrugged. “Gotta be close. They’re hunting us as sure as we’re hunting them.” 

She sighed. “So which way do we go? I’d rather not run right into the pack.” 

Dean cleared his throat and cocked a brow her way. She wasn’t going to let up and he knew it. 

“Why don’t we split up,” he suggested, looking at Bobby and his mother. “You guys go south, we’ll keep heading west.” 

Mary nodded. “OK. Just stay safe.” She smiled and Y/N half returned it. 

Bobby huffed. “You two be careful and holler if you get in trouble.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and set off before Dean could spin around. 

“Why are you such a bitch to him?” he asked, easily catching up to her with his long stride. 

“You know why.” She swatted at a low hanging branch and groaned. “That’s not Bobby and it’s fucking creepy.” 

Dean laughed at her. “It is Bobby-” 

“Not my Bobby.” 

He sighed. “You get used to it.” 

“No thanks.” 

Another howl, this time closer and followed by another. 

Y/N stood still and tall, listening with her entire being. Dean came up behind her and she held a finger to her lips, ordering him to be silent. 

The earth was damp. The fallen autumn leaves were too wet to make a sound, but she heard the squelch of mud as a creature ran through it. The being gained speed, and the wind picked up, chilling their faces as sure as the adrenaline prickled their skin. 

She nodded towards his right and Dean raised his pistol, gripping it tight and following the line of sight into the dank woods. He squinted and a mess of black, matted fur moved behind the trees. 

“Shit.” 

Y/N flipped off the safety on her gun and steadied herself. She took a breath, gave him a wink and set off to the left. 

He knew her well enough to understand the plan without conversing, and Dean moved off to the right. They’d wrap around in a circle and meet behind the beast, hopefully catching it off guard and raining silver down upon it. 

It was a good plan. Solid. Proven. 

Y/N moved swiftly through the trees, careful to tread lightly through the muck and avoid the fallen soldiers of the wood. The rain picked up and with the distance now between them, she lost sight of Dean, but she wasn’t too worried. They were professionals, after all. 

Another few yards and the tree line gave way to a clearing. Y/N wondered for a moment if she’d gotten turned around in the forest, but her internal compass told her she was going the right way. 

A wolf’s cry made her sure.  

The grass was tall and free, untouched by blades or trampled by tires. She pushed through the weeds and a flash of memory struck her. 

The sweet smell of spring; the tickle of grass against her cheek. Rusted metal and chrome gleaming in the sun. The smell of burgers burning on charcoal. Perfect green eyes. 

Y/N shivered at the sensory overload and blinked into the clearing. She was taller than the grass now and so much older than her days in the junkyard.

She took a deep breath and heard her name. 

From across the field, Dean emerged from the trees and shouted her name. He spun his hand in the air and she cocked her head, staring at him, confused but smiling. He was just as beautiful as the first time she’d seen him, though a bit more broken down and tired. 

Again, he yelled for her, and the slow motion world around her cranked back up to full speed. 

“Y/N!” 

She heard it then- the horrid, hungry growl. She smelled the dirt, the wetness. Felt the fear as her body tensed. 

Y/N turned and the wolf attacked. She pulled the trigger but it only made the beast more aggressive. 

Powerful jaws clamped down on her defending arm; razor claws ripped through her flesh. The wet ground accepted her body as they fell, the mud curled up around her as the grass gave way. 

Two shots rang out and the wolf was hit. It reared back and leapt over her, gunning for Dean. 

Y/N flipped over in the mud and tried to get up to help him, but her arms gave out and she sank down, her face cradled by the soft grass. 

One more blast from the gun and she heard the monster fall. Boots splashed through the mud and she felt Dean’s warmth as he fell to his knees beside her. 

Big hands turned her carefully and Dean scanned her face. Her eyes were rolling, her lips curled into the sweetest smile. 

“No. No. No.” His bottom lip trembled as he peeled back her jacket and saw the damage. Her chest was torn, her stomach ripped open and gushing blood. He pressed his hand into her middle and she cried out. 

Pain spread through her at his touch and then subsided. 

She grabbed at his arm, wrapping her fingers around the canvas sleeve. 

“I… I’m sorry, Dean.” 

Her voice was quaking as badly as his hand and he closed his eyes, shook his head.  

“No.” 

She smiled, laughed a little. “Yeah.” 

Again, he shook his head, refusing to let her go. “No.” He sat up a bit, craned his neck over the tall grass. “Bobby! Somebody! Help!” 

Weakly, she lifted a hand to his face and guided his gaze back down to her. 

“Hey. It’s OK.” 

He raged inside. Grit his teeth. “It’s not OK!” 

Blood rushed beneath his hand like a dam had burst on a river. Her skin paled, her eyelids fluttered. 

His heart raced, breath quickened. “Please don’t. Don’t leave. Please.” 

Her shoulders twitched inward and the pain returned. She cringed but kept her smile, unwilling to go out like some terrified victim, some damsel in distress. 

“Dean…” She pet his cheek, wiped away a hot tear. 

“Please.” 

“Do you remember when we met?” 

He chewed his lip, closed his eyes, and took a breath. 

“Yeah, Y/N/N. Of course I do.” 

Her fingers tensed on his cheek. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. You still are.” 

“Don’t say goodbye to me, Y/N/N. You can’t.” He turned his face and kissed her palm, grabbed her wrist with both bloody hands and kissed her fingertips, kissed her knuckles, kissed every inch. “You can’t leave me.” 

With her free hand, she tugged at the chain around her neck and pulled the necklace free. 

“Here. Take this back,” she whispered, hardly able to spare the breath to speak any longer. 

Dean gasped and dropped her hand, ran his fingertips over the old lug nut pendant. “You… you still have this? After all this time?” 

She laughed painfully. “Of course I do, you idiot. I never take it off.” 

He closed a fist around it and shut his eyes, trying to erase the tears and be strong for her. It was all ending and he knew it. She had just moments left and he couldn’t let her go without letting her know the truth. 

“It’s my good luck charm,” she said under a harsh breath. She coughed and the taste of iron flooded her mouth. She swallowed it down and held on. 

“Didn’t do you much good today.” 

She smiled and closed her hand around his. 

“I’ve always loved you, ya know. You… you were always it for me, Dean. Always. I’ve… I’ve loved you since that first day by the stream. I’ve never not loved you. I just need you to know that.” 

He shuddered, sucked in an uneasy breath. “I knew, Y/N/N,” he confessed. “I always knew. I… I love you, too. So fucking much.” 

Her eyes lit up for a second and she shook her head sadly. The tears broke free and refused to leave. 

“Then why? Why didn’t-” 

She couldn’t finish the words, but he understood. 

He pressed his hand lightly to her forehead and smiled. “Come on. I’ve told you a thousand times, Y/N/N. I don’t deserve someone like you.” 

He leaned down, held her cheek, kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips. 

Y/N closed her eyes, safe in his arms, and felt the sweet pull of sleep yank at her limbs. 

“Shut up, Dean,” she whispered. 

He laughed gently. 

She smiled. 

He would be OK.

Dean stared into the fire, watching through bloodshot eyes as the flames licked at her silhouette. 

Her necklace gleamed in the pyre’s glow and he closed his fist around it, holding it tight. Despite the heat of the fire, the metal was cold against his palm. 

She was really gone. 

She’d been there almost his entire life, always at his side when he called, always there to stitch him back together. But now she was gone. 

He’d watched a hundred bodies burn over the years, said goodbye to every friend he’d ever had, but this was too much. There was a piece of him gone, a wound had been carved out of his chest that would never heal. 

So many things he should have told her, so many times he’d taken her for granted. Guilt pulled at him and grief chewed at his veins. So many years wasted. So many nights he could have been alone with her, happy and loved. 

The blaze burned hot, the wood crackled. 

Dean stared silently, drowning in his pain. Forever the man she loved. Still the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

The boy with the green eyes.  

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[cloudcountry]

Curious what do you think the octo trio smell like? And maybe like what colones would be similar to what they smell like

I'm totally not asking so I can buy what jade would smell like

fucking AZUL WOULD SMELL LIKE THE MOST EXPENSIVE COLOGNE EVER. except he knows how much to apply so its never overpowering. this might be just me being biased but he would smell soooo nice i love him. like you could just hug him and shut your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder and he would cradle the back of your head as you melt into him and ugHHHH down horrendous i am so sorry anyways

i'm convinced jade would smell like the earth after it rains. he smells like spring mornings with flowers in the air and dew on the grass. he smells like the sunrise and the crisp air of the mountains, he smells like a creek trickling across the rocky riverbed. he smells like birds chirping in the mornings and crickets singing in the evenings, like the chilly breeze you feel when you're out stargazing with him. he smells like the beauty of nature, resilient and gorgeous. if you find a scent like this let me know anon, i want it to.

i feel like most days floyd does not bother with colonge or anything fancy like azul, though sometimes he might try some. i'm thinking a dark, more rich smell if that makes sense? besides, it's not like anyone would get close enough to smell him anyways. but when you, his precious little shrimpy hugs him in the hallway and says "oh! you smell nice today!" you best believe floyd is wearing that scent every day (until he gets bored, of course, but then he'll just pick out a new one for you to like <3)

[swmmi-kti]

Mates

DNI/BYF

cw: none so far.

synopsis: hey you meet your love, yeah he kinda tried to kill yoU BUT HE DIDN'T

You never foresaw yourself ever finding someone to love as deeply as you have now. You had been living in the mountains for a while now, since you have been able to care for yourself thats where you stayed. Sure it wasn’t the most fruitful life but it was a comfort you grew to enjoy.

On that night like many others you had gotten your water from the mountain rain river where your barrel would be filled to last you a full day when you met him

You just knew he was there by the aura alone as you kept walking thinking that it may just be an unusual set of eyes from nature. Just kept walking home. And that is how he caught you. Suddenly knocked off your center while your barrel went flying making the soil turn to mud beneath you.

Trying to raise your head at all but finding that theres this heavy thing above you, what you figure as bird feet gripping your skull as you are sunken into the mud.

You should be scared, after all this thing is as big as you no doubt, but as you hear no noise and what sounds like snarls of pain you calm a bit “i’m sorry…were you scared?”

Its silent for a while. As you feel the weight kind of leave you for a moment as you try to sit up. “Im sorry if i scared you-” feeling the weight completely leave you stand up now, mud caking your face and hair as you try to wipe it, And because of the blindness that affects your eyes, You couldn’t even see the shocked face on your future mate to be

You listened to hesitant steps and the soft flutter of feathers before something began circling you. You were of course scared. Now you didn’t know where home was, and this thing was circling you with its heavy breathing. 

And there is a certain smell to the air, of iron and of…musk?

“Pretty” says a voice that takes you off guard, as you stand there now lost and confused. 

“Hello?” you ask into the night that seems to grow colder as you stand on the mud, unsure of what's going on now, crouching down to find your barrel that's rolled away from you

And it takes Urogi off guard, You are blind, That’s why you didn’t stop when he was staring you down, that's why you asked such absurd questions. That’s why you lay on the floor trying to locate the barrel that lay far from you. 

He’s a demon and seeing you so defenseless makes a smile appear on his face, but it tugs at his heart strings. It makes him question it as to why or how he can feel such a way to you. 

Why pity things that are so useless? Why when he likes to kill the defenseless. And why on earth is he coming over to help. Rolling the barrel to you his head hangs down for a moment as your delicate and yet calloused hand rest just above his making him look. 

Eyes as bright and as ghostly as the moon. Such a delicate and yet strong face. One thats seen far kinder winters and one thats seen harsher springs. He’s delicate but his talon like hand brushes out the strand of hair that sticks to her face. 

Like a fallen star that seeks to be comforted. 

“Thank you…uh..”

“Urogi” he says quietly yet despite its loud and rough around its edges.

You can’t help but smile a bit as you hold your barrel in your hands as you turn your head down just a bit. “Urogi….Thank you” 

He likes how delicately his name sounds on your tongue, as he just stands there looking at you as you begin again. 

“Can you…tell me which way I was heading?” 

And of course he does, making sure to not scare you as his hands rest gently on your form and guides you on the path again, facing you the way you were going and speaks “that way” 

You smile just a bit as you turn back around where you knew to lead to the river as you bow deeply. “Thank you again, may we meet again in a less then messy way, haha” You laugh a bit, no doubt you'd need to take a bath to clear away the mud as you head back towards the river to begin the trip again. 

You hope that you would meet again on a night like this with less of the mess and more of the talking, after all it gets so lonely living the life you live. And what strong hands they were, so rough and big and yet so delicate with moving your hair away. 

Or how his voice sounded so soft just to not scare you.

It was nice

But nights go by and even if you feel his eyes on you, if you feel his presence he doesn’t say a thing. You really shouldn’t have expected anything after all you were much a stranger to him as he was for you. And living the way you did left many to never speak with you. 

Was it lonesome? Absolutely but it brought some comfort to feel and know that there was someone at the very least there. 

This night however. The terrain was worse and you knew it was risky to even tread with how much the rain was pouring. But decided to take the trip. It wasn’t until the terrain was crumbling under you and trembling as no doubt a mudslide was coming down did you regret heading out at all. 

Your feet were almost glued to the floor and the earth shaking left you disorientated. Your own basket dropped as you prepared to feel it consume you.

But instead of a claustrophobic feeling consuming you. You felt the air. Felt your feet be swept off the ground and a body so warm and yet so cold hold you tight against it as the wind blew by so quickly that you didn't have any time to react.

Just later felt yourself be gently placed on the ground. Your feet finding the familiar feel of the wooden porch of your house as you stood a little puzzled.

A voice, not gentle and yet also not rough began “...you’re home” he spoke before eventually you felt him leave. And it left your heart beating so quickly and yet at the same time left you so confused.

[thesovereignsring-if]

Can we get facts about MCs family members both alive and dead ? So brothers, cousins, mother and father. What did MCs parents think of their children ? What type of parents were they ? (Sorry if it’s too many questions at once).

I had to sit on this until I released the demo to avoid some spoilers. Sorry for the delay!

Now let’s drop some fun facts:

(Spoilers for the demo below!)

Alberich:

Loves cheeses and wine. He typically prefers savory food

He’s a work-a-holic, so he prefers foods he can eat with his hand at his desk. 

Likes reading trashy love novels in his down time. 

100% a songbird. He paints silly pictures of cats when he’s bored. 

He wears a very soft and elegant smelling floral perfume. It’s the same brand as his mother’s. 

He hates hot climates and rain. The change in air pressure makes his stump ache ):

Sieghardt:

Loves sweets and baked goodies

A very talented cook. 

He’s the kind of person to smuggle injured animals into his room to nurse back to health.

Cold and aloof, but really well respected by the younger Heath Knights. Sieg takes good care of them because they remind him of you. 

Has stage fright. 

Ledea (Mother)

The MC's entire world before she dies. Ledea was worried about bonding with the MC after birth, but when her husband dies, she becomes very protective of them. 

The other boys might have suffered because of that though. 

She was a very attentive and protective mother. She took the MC everywhere she went. 

Became Duchess of Vagnyr after her Father dies in a hunting accident 

Married her long time childhood best friend :) 

Highly artistic and feminine. Alberich takes a lot after her. 

Ledea loves all her children- in her own way. She didn’t(couldn’t) love them equally, however.

Vayne (Father) 

He is dead before the MC is born so there isn’t any strong connection, only a sense of loss for what could have been. 

It’s unknown who was born first between the Twin Princes, but Vayne was a popular successor due to his military record, but people were apprehensive of his more gentle nature. 

Because of his duties as Prince, he was often away from home, but when he was home, he was a very active and present Father for the boys. 

DIY dad that will build you a doll house mansion if you asked nicely with his bare hands. 

He does build an entire birdhouse/flight pen for all the pigeons Sieghardt rescues. Even to this day, those pigeons and their off-spring circle the castle property because of it. 

His children were his life. He would die for them. (And He did.) 

Maeve (Empress) 

gaslights gatekeep girlboss 💅

Regardless of the MCs opinion of her, she does consider them her baby. Ledea can go die in a hole.

What can go wrong when the crazy party aunt becomes your full time guardian?? 

Maeve is very indulgent and will coddle the MC, but she does live by the old ways of tough love. 

She loooooves eating fruits, especially bite-sized ones, like grapes! 

Tans very easily

Eirik 

His Mother, Duchess Thrya gave birth to a bastard shortly after his father died, so he is very-not-okay. 

He lives a very isolated life in his territory. 

Loves fishing, swimming, sailing and collecting little seashells for his collection. 

He’s got gadgets and gizmos a plenty… 

His crew are ride or die for him so watch out! 

[maliciouslove]

𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕

SFW—fantasy AU, aged up characters (21+)

pairing //fairy!bakugo x reader

summary // a story about a stubborn fairy born from laughter, refusing to abide by fairy law and instead adventuring into the world to find its maker.

word count // 1.2k

tags // fantasy AU, fairies, platonic love, platonic soulmates

AN // some flower language background you may need

daffodils: symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, bloom in spring, usually in april orange tulips: symbolize understanding and appreciation between two people, being spiritually and physically connected to someone

The sound of raindrops on flower petals, the smell of daffodils in spring and the promise of new beginnings—rebirth. Vermillion eyes open for the first time, the faint sound of laughter echoing over the rainfall. 

A tiny figure rises from inside the blooming yellow flower, sleek golden wings engraved with shimmering patters like moving vines shake off the remnants of slumber and spread wide on the fairy child’s back, full of life and eager to explore. 

In the haze of feelings being born and searching for memories that have yet to be created, crimson eyes gaze into the sky above—a rainbow forming in the clearing sky as the rain dies down and makes way for the fire in his heart to light up. 

Katsuki is the name this flame fairy was given by the unnamed gods, born with fiery determination and unquenching, burning desire in his soul. From the moment his eyes open and he takes in the world, takes his very first breath of air—hundreds, millions of questions bloom inside his mind, making him eager, impatient even to find his answers. 

Normally, flame spirits are mischievous, they bring warmth to those who need it, but they can also set forests ablaze, burning down what stands in their way and defies them. Flame fae are temperamental, never staying in one place for long, their mood as volatile as the fire in their hearts. But all fae folk are born with purpose—they are born from laughter and they fulfill a role, upholding the laws of nature and providing the world with magic that the humans cannot perceive. 

Fairies bring rain after long droughts, then turn it into frost—a single touch of theirs makes flowers bloom each morning, their songs replacing the sun with the moon. From the moment their wings flutter and their eyes take in the world, they know what they must do and they diligently do their work each day. Such is fairy law. 

Yet Katsuki denied these laws—his only purpose being to answer the one question that burns the brightest in his mind, to quench his ever burning desire to meet his maker. To find the person who’s light and gleeful laughter he heard as he took his first breath of life that faithful spring day. He needed to understand what made him who he is, to observe this magic bestowed onto humans to be able to give life to his kind. 

So letting go of his responsibilities, against the better judgment of his elder spirits, he sets out on his own adventure, following his own blazing path as he searches for answers. Through forests and meadows, taking shelter from the rain under amanita mushrooms in the forest and using elm tree leaves as makeshift umbrellas, he kept marching forward, directionless but with strong resolve. 

No matter how many times the sun and moon take each other’s place, no matter how much the stars plead him to stop—his ruby eyes only look forward and his golden wings carry him high. Sharing burrows and seeds with field mice, asking sparrows for directions and following butterflies to patches of flowers that he could use as beds at night. 

Katsuki has long since forgotten how much time had passed, how long he had been searching—not knowing how far he had even gone. But that would not stop him, uncertainty would not extinguish the fire burning in his eyes as he sets out each morning to search for that which he had not yet met. So full of hope and desire, he flies up to an orange tulip at sundown, appreciating the flower under him mimicking the sky above in fiery shades of orange—tinges of pink at the tips. 

He curls up inside the flower, settling on the soft petals and being careful not to harm the stamen inside. The fragrance of the flower calms him, gently coaxing him to sleep and bringing pleasant dreams to the fae. In his dream he’s wandering amidst flower fields, chasing that laughter again—the sound as sweet as he remembered it, full of life and joy. 

The melody of it guiding him home. 

Katsuki is abruptly woken by the rustling of leaves nearby, a somehow familiar tune being hummed as his own flower bed trembles and he feels the world shifting under his feet. Poking his head above the flower petals it becomes clear to him the tulip he was using as shelter was picked and placed in a basket amongst other tulips, all in shades of red, orange and yellow. 

He turns his head and is met with eyes he’s seen before, in his dreams—eyes full of promise and adoration, eyes that reflected his love back at him. These human eyes should not be able to perceive him as he was a fairy, born of magic that has always been beyond the grasp of humans.

Yet he was sure that you could see him—taking in his tiny frame, carefully memorizing every detail of his outfit made from leaves bound together by corn silk, inspecting closely the features on his face. Your eyes sparkle with curiosity and innocence, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen adorning your features.

From the moment his eyes met yours, his purpose became clear to him. His long search is finally over—fate had brought him to his final destination, for these magical eyes could only belong to his maker. 

From inside his flower he waves shyly and is greeted back with the most delightful giggle, just like he remembers it. The sugar laced melody of your voice brings tears to his eyes as the fire inside his heart no longer rages violently, untamed, but calmly spreads from his chest to the tips of his fingers that reach for you. 

Your hand stretches out to him, slowly and carefully as if he might get scared and run—index finger making contact with his tiny hands in a makeshift handshake. To him your smile was brighter than the sun, drinking in your voice as you introduce yourself to the tiny fae, asking questions that he could not answer as his voice could not reach your ears. 

But even so, he gestured animatedly, smiling and flying around, using his body and his surroundings to do his best to answer you—to communicate with you.

“What brings you here?” you ask, hands placed in your lap as you sit on the grass amongst a field of flowers—your beauty overshadowing that of the tulips. 

Katsuki’s wings flutter to life and like a golden ribbon of light he circles you, stopping in front of your chest and placing his little hand over your heart. Though there were no words spoken, you understood he was here for you, and you could feel that unspoken and unseen bond between you. 

The feeling of familiarity seeped in your skin and bones, soaking through to your heart and soul and giving you the ability to see colors and beauty where you had not seen it before. The small frame of the golden fae rests in the palm of your hand now, and you can understand him—with every fiber of your being you understand that this magical being is woven from the same thread you are. 

Therefore the next words that roll off your tongue in a whisper feel natural and ring true:

“Welcome home”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

For the ask game you posted, could you please answer 14, 23, 39, and 43? (Sorry if it's a lot of questions.)

And for a question not from that one ask game, if you could write a story arc set entirely within Thea, what general plot thread would it center around and what team of BC characters would you want there (I think 5-6 characters is a good enough list)? This one will probably take time to answer and that's kind of the point, I like a bit of a wait, heh heh.

Hiya Erika!! Of course you may ^^

14. Do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

Yes. Actually, I love the smell of rain in itself. Specifically if it's in nature, or close to the forest. The air just smells so fresh. And most often it combines with the scents of pine or grass or just... the nature around

23. How do you feel about chilly weather?

I meeeeaaaaannnn.... I'm from a cold country. But it depends on the kind of chilly weather. The autumn, humid kind of cold I hate. It seeps into one's bones and just ... It's cold as hell.

But if it's the kind of dry coldness, that's much more bearable. And enjoyable. Also, actually, I think that chilly weather during spring is also... less freezing? Like +4 C and we're out in hoodies because... It's so warm! Sip your coffee, or tea and just enjoy the weather.

I am a summer child by heart, but the contrast between cold and warm (dry cold and warmth) is enjoyable to me.

39. Do you use lip balm?

Yes. Though... my latest lip "balm" that I bought was labelled as "lip oil" so it's more of a .... gel? I think it was over-priced, but at least it tastes nice (raspberry-peach).

43. What’s your take on spicy foods?

It's kinda funny that... I had this conversation with an irl friend some months ago, when he (a poc) asked me, in a very courteous manner, if I can handle spice. And my reply was something along the lines of "my skin tone is the colour of milk, and I have a spice tolerance to match". Which was meant as a humorous reply, but genuinely my spice tolerance is low. I do enjoy some spice in some dishes, but it really depends on the dish, and even then the spice level according to most would probably be quite low.

So, what is considered as "spicy"?

Spicy food can be tasty, really tasty, but if the heat overpowers the taste, and it just burns, then I personally don't enjoy such dishes. I'm just a weakling when it comes to spicy food, but spice that I can handle, I enjoy.

---

For the story... I think it'd be a kind of an exploration fic. Or getting to know Thea, because I like exploring my own country.

I'd probably include Owen, to explore the health care aspect of it. Probably Charlotte, because, honestly, I think she'd enjoy being in Thea, and for the YamiChar aspect, I'd probably include Yami too. Perhaps he'd even be intrigued by the country, and how it functions, along with how it's different from Hino and Clover. Practically speaking it might be beneficial for Nozel to also go there.

But the way it's formulating, the idea, it'd probably be the Captains, along with Owen, familiarizing themselves with Thean customs and practices. All of them could probably find an aspect that they find intriguing, and enjoyable.

I know this is a bit vague, but... my brain works by me placing the characters into the setting, and then I just "follow them around", so to find out what happens in the story, I'd have to start writing it, or mapping it out.

[unitedstatesofworld]

Bart Springtime: A Whirlwind Adventure in the Season of Rebirth

Have you ever wondered what makes spring feel so magical? The flowers bloom, the days get longer, and everything seems to come alive after a long, cold winter. But what if we could bottle that energy into a person? Meet Bart Springtime! He’s the embodiment of all things fresh, vibrant, and full of possibilities. Bart's story is one of renewal, hope, and, of course, plenty of laughs along the way. In this article, we’ll explore how Bart Springtime lives out the joys of spring every single day, share some fun facts about his adventures, and dive into why he’s a symbol of new beginnings for so many people.

Who is Bart Springtime?

Bart Springtime is no ordinary guy. Imagine a person who thrives on the simple pleasures of spring—the crisp morning air, the chirping of birds, and the smell of blooming flowers. That’s Bart! He’s the kind of person who wakes up excited, energized, and ready to embrace the day like it's a brand-new adventure. From planting his famous tulip garden to organizing picnics in the park, Bart lives life as if every day were a sunny spring morning.

How Bart Got His Springtime Groove

The origin of Bart’s love for spring? Well, it wasn’t always sunshine and daisies! Growing up in a small, sleepy town, Bart found winter to be a drag. He was like a bear in hibernation—sluggish and craving sunlight. Then one year, everything changed. A spontaneous trip to a tulip festival sparked his lifelong love affair with the season. Since that fateful day, Bart Springtime has been on a mission to make spring a permanent part of his life, and boy, has he succeeded!

A Fresh Start Every Day

Morning Rituals: Bart begins every day with a stretch and a smile, opening his windows to let in the cool morning breeze. Who wouldn’t want to start their day like that?

Daily Walks: Rain or shine, Bart takes a stroll through the park every morning. The sight of budding flowers and baby animals always lifts his spirits. It’s like nature’s way of reminding him that every day is a fresh start.

Bart Springtime's Best Spring Traditions

Bart Springtime doesn’t just live spring, he celebrates it! Here’s a look at some of his favorite spring traditions that keep him in the spirit of renewal and growth.

Tulip Planting: Every March, Bart plants hundreds of tulip bulbs. By April, his yard is a sea of vibrant colors. It’s no surprise that neighbors flock to his home just to take pictures!

Spring Picnics: As soon as the weather warms up, Bart hosts his annual spring picnic. It’s an event the whole town looks forward to. With checkered blankets, homemade lemonade, and fresh sandwiches, who could resist?

What Makes Bart So Inspiring?

You might be thinking, "Okay, Bart sounds like a fun guy, but what’s so special about him?" Well, it’s more than just his love for flowers and sunshine. Bart embodies the spirit of renewal and positivity. Even when life throws him curveballs, he takes it in stride, knowing that just like the seasons, tough times eventually pass. Bart's mindset is a lesson for all of us—no matter how difficult things get, there’s always a new beginning around the corner.

The Quirks of Bart Springtime

Bart Springtime isn’t just your average, run-of-the-mill spring enthusiast. He’s got quirks! For one, he refuses to wear anything but pastel-colored clothing between March and June. Seriously, he won’t be caught dead in a black shirt during spring. He also has a strange obsession with wind chimes—his house is filled with them. Every time the breeze picks up, it’s like a symphony of nature’s music.

A New Twist on Spring Cleaning

While most of us dread spring cleaning, Bart sees it as an opportunity to refresh his life. He throws open the windows, cranks up his favorite tunes, and scrubs every corner of his house. The best part? He uses eco-friendly products, because Bart believes in keeping the Earth as clean as his house!

Bart Springtime's Gardening Tips for Beginners

Not only does Bart love gardening, but he’s also eager to share his tips with anyone who will listen. If you’re looking to channel your inner Bart Springtime, here are a few gardening tips straight from the man himself:

Start Small: Don’t go overboard. Bart recommends beginning with a small flowerbed or a few potted plants.

Choose Native Plants: Bart always opts for plants that are native to the region. They’re easier to maintain and better for the local environment.

Water Early: Bart swears by watering his plants early in the morning to avoid evaporation during the hotter parts of the day.

Be Patient: Just like life, gardens take time to grow. Bart reminds everyone to enjoy the process and not rush it.

How Bart Stays Positive Even When It’s Raining

Bart Springtime’s optimism knows no bounds, even when the weather isn’t ideal. “A little rain never hurt anybody!” he often says, shrugging off gloomy skies. Bart’s secret to staying upbeat during rainy days? He believes that rain is just nature’s way of washing away the old to make room for the new. Plus, he’s never one to pass up a good opportunity to splash in puddles—who says you can’t have fun while getting a little wet?

How Bart Springtime Can Inspire Us All

At the end of the day, Bart Springtime is more than just a quirky character who loves spring. He’s a reminder to all of us to embrace life with open arms, to seek out joy in the little things, and to never stop growing. Whether it’s through gardening, connecting with nature, or simply staying optimistic in tough times, Bart’s approach to life is something we can all learn from. After all, wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all had a little more spring in our step?

Conclusion

In a world that can sometimes feel heavy and dark, Bart Springtime is a breath of fresh air. He reminds us that, no matter what, there's always something to look forward to—a new beginning, a brighter day, or even a tulip blooming in your backyard. Whether you're a spring enthusiast or someone just trying to make it through the colder months, Bart's story can inspire you to live with more joy, positivity, and renewal. So next time you feel bogged down by life, ask yourself: What would Bart Springtime do?

[quarantinegirls]

Burb Blurb

My cat trotted from the deck over to a grass patch, crouched down, and attempted to munch on the green blades, like she always does.

The previous owner took good care of the yard, and now we inherit this free gift.

They were partial to purple flowers - this is my guess, but not a hard one to make.

Lilacs bloom first in the spring, sometimes they’ll brave a late snow, followed by a bushy blue indigo. Then the irises open up ferociously, their flowers so large, they look almost meaty. After that, clematis quietly bloom in early summer thunderstorms. Their deep, saturated purple and star-like flowers look nearly angry against the very ordinary green vines. 

Then we have the Russian sage, a species overgrown in Colorado for its drought resistance. Their thin stems betray their hardiness. Bees love their abundant, small flowers. 

I’ve never been one to obsess over plants, and all of them have clearly been established in this yard long enough to thrive independently. So I downloaded an app to learn their names and left the rest to nature (and Ben). Last year, there was an abnormal amount of rain, and everything grew aggressively. This year, Ben’s having to do a lot of watering. Sometimes after a long day, I like to stand next to the flowers and watch the bees.

There are three kinds of bumblebees - one regular, one with fuzzy orange stripes, and one that’s twice the size of the other bumblebees, I call them the monster trucks. When they fly off a flower, they drop a bit because of their chunky torso. I read that bumblebees are friendly and it’s safe (for both of us) to pet them, so I did that. Their fuzz felt exactly like I imagined. I've also gently plucked dead bees off the flowers. They really do work until they drop.

Hummingbirds love to come and drink nectar from this pink flower I’m still too lazy to look up. I don’t encounter them often, but one time I did, and Mia was out there too. They made eye contact. The hummingbird stayed perfectly still in the air, left, and eventually came back after I herded Mia back indoors.

Ben’s newfound passion this summer has been planting tomatoes. I have to admit, watching four tiny sprouts grow into thick vines that yielded 30 pounds of tomatoes has been insane. One time, Ben was out there, talking to his tomatoes, and a Cooper’s Hawk landed right in front of him on the fence. They made eye contact. The bird was unbothered when Ben snapped a photo.

Another time, Ben and I saw a similar hawk land on a neighbor’s roof and shortly after, feasting on a fish. That night, I told my mom, who asked ‘did the hawk fish the fish?’ I said, no mom, he ordered Uber-eats.

Life in the burbs is peaceful and slow. I’ve never been this attuned to seasons. I’ve never noticed that plants do so much when they appear to be doing so little. I’ve never seen squirrels fight in such graphic details. I’ve never felt the first fall chill in the wind so acutely. I’ve never realized nature has so much to say. Where I grew up, seasons are munged together by cityscapes, squirrels are considered wildlife, flowers are meticulously groomed, and everything has a neat little plaque explaining what they are and asking you to please don't touch. I don't write this to express one is better or worse than the other, just that I feel so blessed to hold both of these in me, that my small life is large enough to contain two very different images of living, and I have eyes to see and ears to hear, and scents to smell, and tomatoes to eat.

R

[jaceeverett]

MERROCK TASK #19 THE TINIEST DETAILS

do they drive? if so, do they enjoy driving or do they hate it? or somewhere in between? He does. Jace has never really been into cars all that much, but he doesn't mind driving. Hitting a long, open road with the windows down is pretty nice, so he'd say yeah, he likes to drive.

if they drive, where is their favorite location to drive to? Definitely through the countryside; Jason likes those roads that have so many curves and hills that you feel like you're on a rollercoaster.

if they drive, do they own a vehicle? if so, what make and model? He drives a 2000 everglade Jeep Grand Cherokee that's been carefully maintained through the years.

what bumper stickers do they have on their car? There are a lot of bumper stickers on his jeep -- they're mostly all to do with state parks, a few about nature, he has a couple of those bragging ones about running half marathons, too.

what paintings and/or posters are on their walls? There's really no room on his walls for paintings or posters.

what is a song they listen to with the windows rolled down, turned all the way up, on the highway? Anything by Zach Bryan, some Caamp, a little Noah Kahan, he's been known to absolutely blast Hozier, too. Take Me to Church got scream-sang a lot in the ole jeep back in the day.

is there an artform they’ve always wanted to try (glassblowing, woodworking, painting, ect) but never have? if so, what about that artform speaks to them? Slowly, but surely, he's been teaching himself wood carving. It's not something he thinks he would ever do professionally, but he'd love to make little figurines for his nieces and nephews. Given that he lives in the forest, surrounded by wood, it just makes sense to use what nature can't.

what time of day do they usually start getting sleepy? That entirely depends on the day, but he's normally turned in around ten, unless it's a work night at the station. But if he's keyed up, sometimes he won't get tired until one, two in the morning.

do they catch a second wind? if so, what is their method for catching it (napping, drinking coffee, exercising, ect)? Exercising for a second wind, absolutely. Head outside and go take a brisk run, or do some sit-ups or crunches, or push-ups, just to get the heart moving and blood flowing.

are they a nap person? if so, how long are their naps? do they set a 20 minute timer and wake up before it? or set no timer and wake up in the middle of the night? Not a nap person at all, no. He's too busy to nap, and if he does have downtime, he'd rather spend it meditating or drawing, or doing something else that centers him without making him wake up feeling like a slug.

what is the most obscure book they’ve read? The Drunken Botanist.

what is a book that interested them so much they took it with them to the bathroom? When he was younger, he had a lot of books about state parks, and sometimes he would get so into them, that he would just drag them all over the house with him. Including into the bathroom.

what did the air smell like during their childhood? Saltwater. That's the most specific thing that Jace can remember about growing up in Maine, but Merrock-specific, he can remember freshly baked bread from Flour Co., the distinct smoky smell that stuck to his clothes after a night at a bonfire party in the woods, florals in the spring, and that earthen smell after a good rain.

what is a core memory from their childhood that they look back on fondly and for comfort? Any time that he got to be with all of his siblings at once; Christmas mornings, Easter dinners, late nights of summer vacation, playing outside until the sun went down.

when was the last time they were held, and truly held, for several minutes? who was it with? It's been longer than he can remember. Jason's more of the stoic type; he still to this day hasn't talked very openly with his family about things that he endured in the military, or a lot of details about his life afterwards. There was one man, when he was living out west, that he went on a date or two with, and they had gotten really close, which was probably the closest he had gotten to being 'held' or comforted in any way.

do they meditate? if not, have they ever tried? how did it go? Yes. It's normally a part of his morning routine when he has the time, and sometimes late at night, too.

how many pennies and quarters do they have in their couch? None.

how dusty is their home? spotless, lived-in, dust bunny haven? Annabelle Lee is spotless. Chalk it up to his military life, but Jason keeps his space neat and tidy. The bed is always made and tucked away, counter tops cleaned off, dishes done, there's very rarely a time when anything is out of place.

what is their favorite chocolate bar? Milky Way!

do they like their brownies fudgy or cakey? or not at all, and only want the crusts? The crusts are the best part, but he'd never say no to a brownie that's given to him, no matter how it's made.

what's that one weird food combination that everyone else thinks is gross but they think is delicious? Lobster rolls always bring about such a controversy, and although he likes the Connecticut version, he grew up thinking the Maine ones were the bee's knees, but he is well aware that cold lobster and mayo gross a lot of people out.

where do they put their shoes when they come home from a long day? Where they belong. There's a box just outside of the camper that he keeps his muddy work shoes in, and then if he's wearing his lighter boots, or sneakers, they go into the cabinet where they're kept until the next time he puts them on.

after a vacation, do they immediately unpack or slowly retrieve items from their suitcase until its empty? Unpack immediately. He doesn't really have the space to have things just sort of sitting around the camper.

how often do they do self-reflection? If self-reflection implies any kind of thinking about oneself, then... a lot. Jason is the kind of person that lives in his head way, way too much.

are they more afraid of being alone with themselves or with others? With others. He's genuinely used to being on his own, and alone with himself, and has learned how to deal with it.

have they ever had a near death experience? if so, what was it? Being in the military basically is a near death experience, from start to finish. But Jason had two close calls in his life -- he was hit with shrapnel that damaged both legs and caused him to have surgery on his knee, and was shot in the back of the head/neck area (thankfully, no long-term damage).

out of all the subjects in school, which was their favorite? which one did they excel at? Science, absolutely. He loved figuring out why the earth and the skies and nature worked the way that they did. He also excelled in art class.

how many alarms do they have set on their phone? what is their alarm ringtone? Just the one, and it beeps. He's the kind of person that the moment that he wakes up, he's awake, period.

do they fart in front of other people? or do they hide their farts? Well, the deer and the squirrels don't really mind, but Jason's not the kind of person to just walk around farting in front of his friends or family, either, no.

do they have to see any specialist doctors? if so, do they have a strong bond with their doctor or do they dislike them? There have been a lot through the years, for his various injuries, and he has seen a number of psychologists and therapists, counselors once he got out of the military. Physical therapists, too. He's never cared one way or the other, as long as he felt they were doing their job.

what is their favorite seasoning? That's a tough one... it would depend on what he's making, but he likes mixes that encompass a lot of flavors into one. (Less cabinet space, too.)

what is their favorite sauce? Any sort of sauce that involves lemon, to be honest. Goes great with seafood.

how spicy is spicy for them? (pepper, jalepeno, ghost pepper, ect) Jason will try spicy, but he's not a huge fan of it. Keep it at a mild level and he'll do just fine!

how long do they let the dishes go unwashed? They don't; every dish he uses that day is washed and put away by the end of the night, if not right after he uses it.

how much laundry do they accumulate before doing it? That's a little more tricky. Right now, Jason doesn't have the room for a washer/dryer in his house. But during the warm months, there are some things that he will hand wash himself and hang out on the line to dry. Everything else gets loaded up and taken into Get Clean about once a week to do a couple of loads.

what shampoo, conditioner, cologne/perfume and deodorant do they use? Admittedly... he does use a lot of those 'all in one' things, since he doesn't have a ton of room for beauty products. But he makes sure to use good ones, that he's done research on. As far as cologne, he doesn't wear a ton of it and will just buy a spray when he's out. But he does use a lot of natural, aluminum-free deodorant, too!