#birds fmm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nichirinpen · 2 years ago

Text

Wisteria Woman

SanemiXReaderXGiyu

Can also be read here on AO3 with a little Epilogue

Synopsis- The lone proprietress of an old and rural Wisteria house, you find two injured Hashira at your door step. They show their thanks in an unconventional manner.

Content Warnings- AFAB reader descriptions, Threesome FMM, Vaginal fingering, Double Penetration, biting, descriptions of wounds.

~Minors DNI~

You were awoken from your sleep by a crow cawing. The sound was jarring, making you wince as you blinked blearily into the darkness of your room. The darned bird was next to your head, squawking for all it was worth. Sitting up you rubbed your tired eyes, shooting a glare at the inky fowl.

“CAW! My Lady! Two Injured! CAW”

Just great. You looked around, taking in the pitch dark of your room and the mostly silent house. It couldn’t be later than 2 am. The dead of night and you had two injured souls on their way. Sighing you stood, shushing the bird away as you rolled out of your futon. Your shoulders ached slightly and you cursed under your breath. Of course the night after you had spent all day helping with the local town harvest you would get woken during much needed sleep.

“HURRY UP!! CAW!”

You sent a burning glare towards the crow. The little creature was growing more and more annoying as time passed. It hopped about, bobbing its head as if doing a little dance. You stretched, your back cracking with the motion, it was much too early for this shit.

“Shouldn’t you be guiding them here?” You shuffled out of your room, lifting the candle you had lit. Adjusting your sleeping robes you trailed towards the front door, yawning wide. Slipping on a pair of house slippers kept by the front door, you wiggled your toes, trying to wake up. You turned, making your way to the nearby kitchen, yawning loudly.

Your small property was deemed a Wisteria house. Many many years ago your family had agreed to assist the demon slayer and were granted the Wisteria crest. It had been passed from mothers to daughters for ages, finally landing on you. The last living member of your family. It had been easier when your grandmother was living, the house work and hosting for slayers had been manageable between the two of you. But it had been years since she was gone and years since the house had even seen a guest. You grimaced as you passed the aged sliding doors and the creaking wood of the house, things were in slight disrepair.

“Injured! Injured!” The crow was on repeat, bobbing its head furiously. “Hashira! Injured!”

You frowned at the bird, the word was familiar but you couldn’t place the meaning. In all honesty you had not kept up with the house ledgers. Foolish on your part, but it had been nearly a decade since the last slayer. You had seen no need to read the TWENTY-THREE ledger volumes that your ancestors had written. No time when the local villagers were in constant need of help.

Setting your candle down in the kitchen, you threw wood onto the dwindling fire. You would have to cook no doubt and stitch them up.The crow shuffled about nervously, hopping up to peck your arm from time to time. You batted the pesky bird away, lifting a kettle onto the fire. Tea and soup would probably be best for them. Grabbing your candle again you shuffled back into the hallway, yawning again as you lit the lanterns leading to the door. A bath would be the least amount of work, the natural spring in the back doing all of the work. The only saving grace of this dusty old place.

Sliding the front door open you shivered as wind brushed over your skin. It was early autumn still and yet the nights had begun to feel unnaturally cold. Cupping a hand around the flame you peered out into the darkness. The warm light from your hallway casting a yellow glow at your feet. The woods just yards away looked uninviting, the darkness hidden between the trees was inky.

You bit your lip. Anything could be out there, were they alright? The Wisteria that was planted just beyond the trees created a barrier against demons. It was incredibly overgrown as well, you hadn’t trimmed the plants in ages. You shifted back slightly, tugging your robes tighter about your form. Demons weren’t all stupid beasts. Perhaps one was able to get to the slayers? For once the crow was silent, sitting on your shoulder as it glanced about. Did these crows get nervous? Was that why it was so quiet?

You flinched as the sound of movement came from your right. Peeking around the door frame you gasped. Two men stood, well one stood, holding the other upright. The white hair man looked barely conscious, the dark uniform wet with blood. The more upright of the two was holding onto him in a death grip, his knuckles white.

“Oh!” It was all that you could say, rushing forward, your crow companion leaving to circle about the two men. You put out your candle, tossing it aside as you rushed to grab the white haired man. He was heavy, you hooked an arm about his waist, pulling his other arm about your neck. The Hashira was incredibly warm and you grimaced, noting the deep red seeping across your robes.

“Hot water.” The other Hashira’s voice was hoarse as if he had been yelling. “The demon poisoned him. We need charcoal powder too for him to drink.”

“Not through the house then.” You tugged them around the side of the house, trying not to dig your fingers into the bleeding man. He was grumbling quietly under his breath, you realized, noting that he was using rather foul language. The other Hashira stumbled slightly and you yelped as you and the white haired man were tugged to the side.

“FUCK Tomioka!” The white haired man howled, his wild eyes narrowing into a glare. You grimaced, trying your best to keep him standing. Tomioka didn’t acknowledge the complaint, just adjusted his grip on the other man. He looked exhausted.

“Just a bit further.” You urged, tugging them along again. Behind your house lay a stone garden. It encircled the natural spring and you winced at the stone underfoot. The spring itself had stone features carved ages ago by your ancestors, they really made it look quite cozy. And it was, you had spent many an hour lazing in the warm tranquil waters. Blood left a trail on the garden stones and you tried not to think of the massive clean up you would need to do later. That was for tomorrow you to stress about.

Lowering the injured Hashira to the ground, you gently began peeling off his bloody uniform. He protested loudly, at the action. You tried to keep your hands steady but they shook slightly as you worked. The warm feeling of sticky blood on your skin made you nauseous, but you swallowed it as best you could. Last thing the man needed was you vomiting on him. The man was batting weakly at your hands as you shakily attempted to undo his top. Your fingers kept slipping against the blood slicked buttons.

“I’ll get the rest off.” The dark haired man sank to his knees, wincing. “Please bring crushed charcoal in water.”

You nodded, standing and darting into the house through the garden entrance. Kicking off your soiled slippers, you jogged into the kitchen. The blood on your robes felt disgusting against your skin, but you didn’t have time to take care of it. Rinsing your hands, you quickly pulled your mortar and pestle from its spot on the shelf. Luckily enough you had plenty of charcoal. Crushing it quickly you turned, grabbing the kettle with its now boiling water and pouring a cup. You paused, then poured another, both men should probably drink the mixture. Dumping equal amounts of charcoal in the cups, you darted back out of the kitchen and into the living room. The medical kit that had sat ignored for years was dusty but in good shape. You snatched it, tucking it under your arm. Grabbing the two cups from the kitchen, you hurried back outside.

Tomioka sat, half wrestling the white haired Hashira as he attempted to finish unclothing the man. Despite his massive blood loss, the other man was putting up a fight, snarling obscenities. He was going to make himself pass out at this rate or bleed to death. He was shirtless, half out of his pants, his right side was bleeding heavily, splattering the stones and water deep red.

“I dont need your fucking help!” He barked, hands scrambling at the stones as he tried to move away from the dark haired Hashira.

“Here.” Passing the two cups to Tomioka, you dropped the med kit. Kneeling, you swiftly pulled the cursing Hashira’s pants off. He squawked at you and you scowled, batting his weakly flailing hands away.

“Did you come to the Wisteria house to die or to be tended to?” You snapped, grabbing at his blood soaked undergarment and whipping it off. Keeping your eyes firmly on his face, you shoved him into the water. He howled, spitting curses at you as he wriggled in the hot water. The water went deep red as he splashed about. He was bleeding a lot more than he should be.

Tomioka made no move to join the man and you sighed. It was going to be a long night dealing with these idiots.

Stripping out of your bloody sleep robe, you slipped into the hot spring. Rolling your eyes at both men’s near identical looks of shock. You still had your undergarments on so it wasn’t like they could see much. The warm water felt nice, washing the sticky blood from your side.

“Get over here.” You snapped, tugging the white haired man closer. Ignoring his huff of irritation, you quickly scooped water over his muscled form, taking in the multiple lacerations across his right rib and what looked like two bite marks on his left arm. Did the demon have some sort of anticoagulant? That's the only thing you could think of looking at the steadily bleeding wounds. Washing his skin gently you tried your best not to irritate his wounds further. Despite the warmth of the water, his skin felt cool and clammy. He shivered at your touch and you tried to ignore the blush on your cheeks, it was just the hot water you told yourself.

“Whats your name?” You asked, turning to scoop moss from the stones around you. The moss at this hot spring was exactly why your ancestors had settled here centuries ago. The thick soft moss was perfect for temporary wound packing. It had been discovered by accident according to your grandmother, an answer from the gods when your great times 10 or something Grandpa had split his hand open cutting wood for the house. You think he just got lucky and picked trees close to the spring without realizing.

“We are Giyuu Tomioka and Sanemi Shinazugawa.” It was Tomioka who answered, he looked out of it and you frowned. While he was significantly less bloody than his friend, you had a feeling he was hiding the extent of his injuries. His pupils concerned you, they were blown wide and while you could attribute that to the darkness surrounding you and the low lantern light from the house, you doubted it was the cause.

“Well then, Strip Mr. Tomioka.”

Turning to Shinazugawa you began to gently pack his lacerations with the moss. He grunted, teeth clenching as he gripped the stony sides of the hot spring. You paid him no mind, noting the scars that littered his body. These ones would certainly add to his crazed look. Finishing with his ribs, you gently took his forearm in your hands, rinsing it and then packing the bite wounds. He winced, glaring down at you, you rolled your eyes as you finished up, rinsing your hands in the water.

“Moss is just temporary to help stop the bleeding. You can bathe in the water now without worrying about bleeding out.”

He nodded, twisting to look at your work on his ribs. Once done here you’d have to stitch them. You tried not to grimace at the thought, it had been a while since you last took up the needle and thread.

Tomioka slipped into the water next to you, wincing. You narrowed your eyes, some scraps here and there, but nothing as bad as Shinazugawa. Something was most likely broken. Poking his right side you noted the lack of reaction and moved to his left. He was hunched awkwardly and you didn’t think it was an attempt at modesty.

“So, why the charcoal water?” You asked, trying to determine what he had broken. He was holding his left arm awkwardly and you took it gently to inspect.

“To make us throw up to counteract the poison.” He winced as you lifted the arm slightly. You frowned both at his words and his arm. It was dislocated, something you weren't quite sure you were strong enough to push back into place. You pressed below the arm against his ribs and he hissed in pain. Possible broken ribs as well, the skin felt hard and you could see a faint bruise starting to form.

“The demon made you eat something?” You quirried, he looked confused and shook his head. “No, it was like a mist.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Mr. Tomioka, drinking charcoal and throwing up will do nothing for something you’ve inhaled.”

He blinked and you heard Shinazugawa behind you snickering. You turned, pointing at the dark haired man. “Does he normally say stupid things.”

Shinazugawa chortled, a wide grin on his face, “In my opinion? Yes, all the time. The most infuriating man.”

“I am not stupid.” Tomioka was frowning, holding his left arm awkwardly. You sputtered, falling into the water as Shinazugawa pushed you aside, choking as water went up your nose. You glared at him and gagged as he grabbed Tomioka’s arm, shoving it back into the socket with a wet crunch. The sound was awful and you shuddered, glad it was just the one arm.

“You probably have a concussion.” Your finger jabbed at Tomioka and he nodded sluggishly. You glared at Shinazugawa, pointing at his bite marks, “and you probably got some sort of anticoagulant injected in you.”

He nodded slowly, picking at the moss on his forearm. Tomioka swayed in the water, still holding his left arm. His face was pale and sweaty and you knew it wasn’t just from the warm spring water. Despite their battered appearances, you noted how handsome both men were. A thought that quickly vanished as you took in Tomioka’s face twisting into a look of panic.

“I think I'm going to vomit.”

You lifted yourself out of the water, crouching to gently pull the man from the water. He stumbled out, limbs shaking in the cool air. On his hands and knees he wretched dryly, the action making his whole body shake. Keeping your eyes averted, you tugged the med kit over to you, not that there was anything in it to assist with the concussion.

“Can you walk?” Inside you could get him a robe and perhaps some food. Tomioka shook his head sharply, one shaking hand clamped over his mouth. He was still swaying and you turned, glaring at the white haired man who was soaking in the bath like nothing was happening. His eyes were closed, head propped up on his arms, if you hadn’t seen his smirk you would have thought he was sleeping.

“Do you mind assisting me?” Your tone was snappish and you scowled as he glared at you.

“I do mind actually. This water is helping my wounds.” He gestured at his side, wincing slightly with the movement, “Tomioka can wait.”

Tomioka in fact could not wait and you kept your face stony as you heard him vomit beside you. ‘Don’t look, don’t look, just drag him inside.’

Gingerly you turned on your heel, tugging the shaking Hashira after you. He leaned heavily against you, and you struggled to keep him upright, both arms around his water slicked waist as you guided him inside. You tried to ignore the sensation of hair tickling your forearm that was wrapped around his front half. ‘Don’t think just walk stupid woman.’ You mentally chided yourself. The crow followed you as you tugged him down the hall. The pesky bird appeared to genuinely seem to be trying to help you, tugging at his hair as if to keep the man’s head up.

Gently setting him on your futon, you rushed to the closet, pulling out towels and men’s robes. The Hashira was swaying where he sat, his face still pale. You crouched next to him, gently drying him as best you could. Ignoring the blush in your cheeks, you tugged a robe on him, trying your best to not jostle his injured arm. He groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck while you tied his robes loosely.

“Tomioka, will you be ok if I go check on your friend?” You patted his cheek, trying to get his attention. Either whatever they inhaled was making it worse or he had an extremely bad concussion. The man nodded jerkily, swiping his shaking hand across his mouth.

You turned to the crow that now sat next to him, scowling, “If he passes out come yell for me.” The crow seemed to nod or as close as a bird could. You stood, hurrying back to the inner garden.

Just as you had thought. The man was slumped over unconscious, his face luckily planted in the stones of the garden. You sighed, throwing up your hands in frustration. Why were you running a Wisteria house all alone? It was foolish, you should have given the property up ages ago. He was heavier than Tomioka you realized as you tried to pull him out of the water. Tugging on his arm seemed like a great way to tear his wounds further. Slipping back into the water you positioned yourself next to his left side. Grabbing him around the waist you heaved upwards, grunting with the effort to lift him. Your back cracked and you wheezed, finally getting him mostly out of the water. Hoisting yourself from the hot spring you assessed the situation. He was torso and ass out of the water and still way too far from the door for your liking. Yes you could drag him but that opened up the possibility of making the lacerations worse. And you were running out of steam. Having got about 3 hours of sleep before they had arrived and a day or physical activity had you tired and irritated.

But it was just you. Just stupid, unprepared you. Crouching in front of him, you grabbed both of his arms, slinging them over your shoulders, locking your arms around his waist. Slowly, step by step, you pulled him towards the house. The pebbles of the garden dug painfully into your feet and you winced with each step. The Hashira remained oblivious, his head swaying limply against the side of your face.

The back of your calves hit the wood of the porch and you stepped up, hoisting the man after you. Through the screen door, down the hallway and finally in the same room as Tomioka. Gently you lay Shinazugawa next to the still swaying Tomioka. The crow hopped about your feet as you pulled out another futon, setting it up and rolling the white haired man onto it. You lit the lanterns in the room to see the damage better, hands shaking with exhaustion and you sighed. Just a little bit longer.

Jogging back out to the spring you snagged the med kit, pausing as you surveyed the blood spatter across the garden stones. Just nasty, hopefully it would rain soon to help clean up the mess. You slammed the screen door behind you as you ran back inside. Tomioka was laying down now, the blankets tucked tightly about his form. The crow sat on his side, cleaning its feathers.

“You need to peck him awake every few hours ok?” You pointed from the crow to the Hashira and then back. The bird bobbed its head, cawing affirmation to your request. Turning to Shinazugawa, you took stock of his wounds. The moss had done its job, stopping the bleeding completely. You were afraid to remove it just yet. He had clearly passed out from blood loss and you weren’t sure that disturbing the wounds just yet would do him any good. Patting his form dry, you positioned him on the futon, eyes firmly avoiding his waist area. Pulling bandages out, you wrapped his side and left arm carefully, trying to not disturb the moss. He groaned in his sleep as you did so and you sighed with relief, he was still responsive which was good.

You sat between the two men on the futons, eyes heavy as you looked over the two of them. Should you make food? Would they even want to eat just now? Maybe you could rest for just a moment. You blinked sleepily, feeling your body relax as you lay down. Just a few minutes would do you good. Your eyes slid shut and you fell asleep.

It was a crow that awoke you again. You blinked up into the darkness, confused. How long had you been sleeping? This crow looked old, wiggling its little foot in your face. It had a small package tied to its leg. You shifted to sit up and grunted as a heavy weight blocked you. The two Hashira had shifted in their sleep, both draping an arm over your chest, heads nestled against your shoulders. You huffed, wiggling out from under them.

“Antidote! Antidote!” The old crow cawed, you smiled at it, gently untying the bundle. Inside two tiny syringes filled with a light gray liquid and a note. You opened the note, picking up the syringes as you read.

‘Hello Wisteria house. Giyuu’s crow was able to warn me of the danger they were exposed to. Please inject each of them with a syringe in their buttocks. -Lady Shinobu Kocho'

You blinked, looking at each of the sleeping men. Easy enough, you supposed. They were both sleeping on their stomachs already so you had easy access. Peeling the blanket off of each man, you stuck them individually with the syringe, ignoring their cries of shock.

“Food?” You wrapped the used syringes and stood. The two men blinked sleepily up at you, Shinazugawa nodding and Tomioka shaking his head. You bit at your bottom lip, you’d make two meals and try to feed the stoic Hashira. Walking into the kitchen, you took note of the crows following you. They had been up the entire time you realized. Settling on the counter, they pecked at each other half-heartedly. You tossed the little package of medicine into a bin, slapping your cheeks lightly in an attempt to wake yourself up.

“What do you guys eat?”

The crows looked at each other, then back at you, the action was comical. “Corn.” The older crow bobbed his head eagerly, the other joining in. You laughed as they hopped about the counter chanting “Corn! Corn! Corn!”

Luckily for them you had some from the local farmer. You placed a large pot on the kitchen fire, poking the burning wood to stoke the flames. Cutting up a corn cob you sprinkled the corn across the counter. The birds crowed happily, hopping about excitedly. As you mixed together miso, the birds munched happily at the treat. Deciding that the broth wasn’t enough you took out the last little bit of the udon you had, cooking it in the boiling water. You rubbed your eyes, wondering how far dawn was. You would have to sleep through the day, or at least try to. The condition of Tomioka was worrisome and you hoped the medicine that had been brought actually helped him.

Carrying the two bowls out of the kitchen, you made your way to the bedroom. Tomioka was sleeping again, shivering beneath his blanket. Shinazugawa was sitting up, his blanket tucked neatly across his waist. You noted with irritation, the discarded bandages strewn next to him on the tatami mat. He poked at the dark stiff moss, grimacing. Passing him a bowl, you sat between the two men with a sigh.

“I’ll stitch you up after I get him to eat.”

Gently waking Tomioka you helped him sit up, pressing the soup bowl into his hands. He took it weakly, blinking at you owlishly. Lifting a spoon to his lips you gently pressed it against his lips. Tomioka blinked, opening his mouth slowly to take the broth. It was slow and painful, but you remained patient. Behind you Shinazugawa seemed to inhale his food, sighing as he placed the bowl on the tatami mat. “Thank you.”

You nodded at his words, trying to coax Tomioka to take another bite. “How hard did he hit his head?”

Glancing back at the white haired Hashira, you watched as he scratched his scarred chest. Shinazugawa looked thoughtful at the question, muscles rippling as he stretched. “Well, the fight took place about 4 miles from here, a mix of woods and the base of a cliff.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. They had walked 4 miles to get to you? That was insane, no wonder both of them passed out as soon as they were safe.

“The demon was just gross, tentacle looking fucker. She grabbed Tomioka and threw him head first into the stone.” Shinazugawa shrugged, “And then later he smacked his head on a tree. So pretty bad.”

You grimaced looking back at the silent Hasira, he was sipping the broth straight from the bowl, the sight made you feel slightly optimistic. His pupils looked like they were back to normal as well, a good sign.

“Where is the rest of this Wisteria house?” Shinazugawa was leaning back on his elbows, head tilted in your direction. You sighed, placing the mostly empty bowl Tomioka handed you aside, shifting to better face the man. His wild lavender colored eyes were piercing.

“It was my grandmother, my mother and I for a few years. But Mother passed 15 years ago and while she tried her best, grandmother passed about 8 years ago.” You shrugged, picking at the edge of the futon.

“I'm past the typical marrying age so I believe this Wisteria House will end with me Mr. Shinazugawa.”

Not that it mattered. The men in the local town tended to be a pit pig headed about things. The whole control of the house and wife mindset that you truly despised. Not something you would mention to the Hashiras though, it was your issue not theirs.

“No Suitors?” Shinazugawa had turned on his uninjured side, propped up on one elbow as he looked up at you. The question was an uncomfortable one. Sure there were men who had tried to come calling, tried to extend proposals. But they had all be, lacking.

“Most men here want a submissive quiet wife.” You gestured at your barely clothed form and back at him, “Clearly I am neither.”

You didn’t mention the fact that the women in your family had a track record of absent or dead husbands. It was like a plague upon them and your grandmother had assured you that you would be different. You doubted it how ever, over 15 generations and not one of them had a husband that bothered to stick around? No thank you.

He hummed in response to your answer, taking in your pinched expression as he drummed his scarred fingers on the futon. His face was thoughtful as he looked at you.

“I would take you as a wife.”

You and the white haired hashira stared at Tomioka in shock. Shinazugawa barked with laughter at the blush his fellow hashira was sporting. You were blushing as well, patting the dark haired man’s hand. “Thank you. Why don’t you rest?”

His concussion was clearly still altering his thought process. You didn’t know the man but felt that speaking so plainly was out of character for him. Tomioka lay down obediently, looking up at you with a soft smile. You smiled back, patting his head. Turning to Shinazugawa, you motioned for him to sit up. He complied, wincing as you prodded his side. Stitches were for sure needed you mused, and it was going to make a mess. You stood, walking to the nearby closet and pulling out a robe for him. Tossing it over, you motioned for him to follow you.

“I think it's best if I flush your wounds in the kitchen.”

He followed you, robe tied just around his waist. The med kit in your hands was unfortunately light on supplies. You felt guilt for a moment for not doing better with keeping up your grandmother’s habits. No matter, the past could not be changed. You smiled at the crows who had fallen asleep in the kitchen. Motioning at the table, you turned to pour the hot water into a small pitcher. Shinazugawa sat on a stool, hands on his knees.

Working quickly you gently removed the moss from his lacerations. They had helped with clotting and you nodded in satisfaction at your work. He would need lots of iron and protein to make up for the blood loss, but he would not die. You gently dabbed the wounds with a warm wet cloth, getting out the last of the moss. Bleeding had begun again, but just barely and you worked quickly to stitch him up. Though it had been ages since you last had to give someone stitches, your hands seem to know what to do, steady through the process. Shinazugawa was silent through the process, only grunting slightly when you tugged the thread too hard. Once his chest was stitched up, you moved to his forearm, repeating the process. Satisfied with the stitches you bandaged your handiwork. Despite your lack of sleep, you felt you had done a superb job.

“All done Mr. Shinazugawa.” You smiled at the man, washing your hands of blood.

“Thank you.” He ran a hand over the bandages, “Call me Sanemi.”

You nodded at the words, smile widening. It felt like a little prize to get to call him by his first name. Turning you went back out into the hallway, the man trailing behind you. “There are a few hours until dawn, if you don’t mind I’ll rest with you both. I'm worried about Tomioka.”

The Hashira grunted in response, flopping onto his futon as soon as you entered the room. Tomioka was sleeping more peacefully this time. You slipped under the blankets between them, facing him. Feeling his forehead you sighed, no fever. Just a really, really banged up brain.

Sanemi moved closer, peeking over your shoulder at the other man. He said nothing, just sighed, his warm breath tickling your ear. Lying back down, he nestled against your back, slipping into sleep quickly. You felt your eyes growing heavy in the warmth, noting that the crows had joined you. Hopefully they would wake you if something went wrong. For the second time that night, you slipped into a deep sleep.

When you awoke again it was not from the chatter of a crow but the feeling of being overheated. Sweat slid across your skin and you huffed as you were unable to move, pinned by a heavy weight. Your eyes made out the blurry faint light seeping from the hallway, it must be past dawn now. Blinking to clear your vision, you took note of what was creating the heat. You were on your left side sandwiched between both men, legs tangled together, each one had an arm slung across your hips. Your bodies were twisted together to the point that it took you a moment to realize where one man ended and the other began.

Sanemi was nuzzling the back of your neck, murmuring something in his sleep. You shifted, your skin felt too hot. Tomioka stirred, turning over and you sighed in relief. You could breathe again, somewhat. The other Hashira was still plastered to your back, the mix of your sweat and his making your back sticky. You raised your arm to elbow him and then stopped, he was injured and that would only make it worse. Shifting in his grip you turned onto your back, poking his shoulder gently. Sanemi cracked open one eye, you nudged his legs with yours in response, trying to quietly push him off you. The man chuckled and made no attempt to move himself, closing his eye as he snuggled closer.

“Sanemi please get off me.” You whisper hissed at him. He opened both eyes this time, smirking at you. You glared at him, blinking as you realized he had discarded his robe at some point while sleeping. The bandages across his chest were faintly red. You sat up, ignoring his grunt of protest. Running a hand over the bandages you were relieved to find them dry. No active bleeding then, that was good. No need to change them just yet and disrupt the healing process.

You squeaked as his rough hands grasped your waist, pulling you up onto his lap as he rolled onto his back. The action was so swift and smooth that you found yourself dizzy for a moment. In an attempt to not touch his side to steady yourself, you instead planted your hands on either side of his head. Your fingers gripped the futon, face mere inches from the Hashira.

“Forgive me for being forward.” His voice was deep and hazy with sleep, the whispered words like honey in your ears. You shivered, blushing as his calloused thumbs rubbed lazy circles against your hips. “But I find myself entranced by you it seems.”

You blinked at the words, mind trying to catch up as you stared at him aghast. You had been trying to be aloof and distant the entire time, keeping your eyes in respectful places, hands only where they needed to be. But, you would be lying if you stated you hadn’t noticed how handsome both of the men were. How their bodies, one brawny and thick with muscle, the other more slender yet toned, had indeed caught your eye. The lustful part of you had been dormant so long and you had been fine with the idea of keeping it as such. Hell you had been half tempted to turn the Wisteria house into a shrine and live your life out as a maiden. But these men shook your resolve. You will to be distant and professional was dissipating.

You sat up, careful not to sit your full weight on the man. You didn’t want to aggravate his wounds. “Sanemi. Mr. Shinazugawa. I appreciate the compliment, but….” Your whispered words trailed off as you realized you were very much sitting on a full on hard on. Trying to pretend it was not there and that you were not aroused, you shifted, trying to gather what you were about to say. You had to say no, had to tell him that he needed rest. The internal war waging in your mind and loins was quickly being lost as the man beneath you grinned.

His rough hands felt electrifying on your soft hips, you unconsciously moved with his actions, grinding slightly against his hard length. “But.” You tried again, placing your hands on top of his, “Mr. Tomioka is resting.”

Gods that sounded lame. You felt your blush intensifying as you stared into his lavender coloured eyes. Sanemi smirked up at you, gently lifting his hips and grinding into you.

“He is very much awake. Aren’t you Giyuu.”

Your head snapped to the right and you felt the color in your face go even redder at the sight of the other man, propped up on one elbow, blue eyes locked on your form. In your focus on the white haired hasira, you hadn’t even heard him move.

“If you’d allow us, we could show our thanks for taking care of our wounds.” Tomioka’s low voice and the implication sent shivers across your skin. You stared, slack jawed, eyes darting from one man to another. This was a lot to take in, more attention from men that you had had in a while. Attention that you found yourself wanting more of, the fire of want in your lower belly intensifying under their half lidded gazes.

“We can’t.” You whispered, “You’re both too injured.”

Both men laughed, Sanemi’s loud and rough, Giyuu’s soft in contrast. “We’re Hashira, not average men.” Sanemi mock pouted at you, wild eyes dancing with amusement, “You wound me Little flower.”

You hummed in response, hands nervously twisting together. You wanted to say yes, but what would grandmother think? A desecration in her Wisteria house no doubt. But grandmother was not here, the little thought sent a jolt of excitement across your mind, it was your wisteria house now.

You turned, looking down at Sanemi. Leaning down, you brushed your hair behind an ear, placing a gentle kiss upon his lips. Your non-verbal yes was met with a burning kiss. His hand tightened about your waist, lips meddling against yours with a passion you had never experienced before. Sanemi sat up, keeping you firmly in his lap. You shivered as you felt Giyuu behind you, his soft lips tracing across the back of your neck. His hands came up, untying your chest bindings as you ground against Sanemi’s hardened length. You shivered at the brief cold as your chest was exposed. Quickly however, Giyuu’s hands replaced the bindings, fingers gently tweaking your nipples. You pressed back into his chest, moaning into Sanemi’s lips, the man took the opportunity and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You shuddered against the two of them, Sanemi's calloused hands squeezing your hips harder, pulling your wet cunt flush against him. You ground against his hardened length, a breathy sigh swallowed in the passionate kiss he had you locked in.Pulling back from the kiss you sucked in a deep breath of air, head spinning. Sanemi smacked away one of Giyuu’s hands, leaning in to grab your nipple with his lips.

“Be Nice!” You squeaked as he lapped roughly over the perky bud with his tongue. Giyuu chuckled in your ear, kissing your neck as his free hand slid dwn your side, sneaking under your undergarment. “He is being nice by sharing with me.”

You gasped, head falling back on his shoulders as he slipped his fingers through your slick folds, sliding two long fingers into your soaking wet hole. Giyuu began pumping slowly, grabbing your right thigh with his free hand, holding you open. Sanemi placed a callus hand on your left thigh, mirroring the other man's actions.You sat pinned between them as they lavished you with kisses. You moaned softly, hips bucking against the stoic hashira’s hand. Giyuu’s long fingers went at an agonizingly slow pace and you could feel your release already building, just out of reach. The low lewd squelching of your juices was paired with moans as your hips canted into the man's hand. You let out a shaky breath turning your head to face him. He kissed you, deep blue eyes wide as if to not miss any of your movement. You moaned into the kiss as Sanemi switched breasts, biting you sharply. He pulled back, teeth tugging against your breast as his tongue swirled around the nipple. His free hand slid down to your clothed cunt and began rubbing your clit through your undergarment, the roughness of his actions and the wetness of the fabric making you whine into Giyuu’s mouth. Your walls fluttered around the fingers within you, and you sighed as Sanemi bit your breast.

The tight fire of your release was swelling within your stomach and your hips bucked hard against the two men’s hands. You were so close, Giyuu slid his tongue in your mouth, fingers picking up pace. Sanemi shifted his thumb, hooking it under your underwear. The callous skin of his thumb against your clit sent you over the edge and you cried out as you came. Your walls clenched around Giyuu’s still pumping fingers, hips bucking up against Sanemi’s waist.

“Fuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of them whispered the word, too dizzy from your release. They shifted, moving you to the futon. Giyyu’s fingers slipped from your warmth and he popped them in his mouth, the action sending shivers through you. Lying down happily, you stared up at the kneeling pair as they seemed to ponder what to do next. Both of them were fully erect, tips leaking precum slightly at the sight of you.

“How would you like to do this?” Sanemi’s question surprised you. You tilted your head, biting your bottom lip as you tried to think around the fog in your mind. You had never been with two men before and weren’t sure of what was best. One at a time? Together? Thoughts raced through your mind and you found yourself thrilled at the prospects.

“Can we do this together?” Your question made Sanemi smirk, the man puffed up his chest. He jabbed his thumb at himself as he spoke up.“I know I can. Not sure about Tomioka though.”

The other man frowned, pulling his inky hair out of its sloppy ponytail. “My concern is if we would both fit.”

You blinked, looking again at their hardened lengths. Sanemi’s was thick and on the shorter side and you found yourself baffled at the sight of scars ending just at the base. The wild patch of white hair that trailed from his cock to his navel interrupted by the many jagged scars. In contrast Giyuu’s cock was longer and slender, veins standing in stark contrast to his pale skin. The patch of hair at its base was surprisingly trimmed and neat, something you didn’t think you had ever seen with a man. They were so opposite of eachother, one loud and broad, the other slender and quiet.

“I think I’ll be ok.” Your voice was a whisper and you knew it carried the slight uncertainty you held. Both men smiled, shockingly similar in gentleness.

“Hot spring?” Tomioka looked between the two of you, standing and extending a hand. You were slightly shocked at the suggestion, but nodded. You took Giyuu’s hand, standing shakily. Both men hooked an arm around your waist, guiding you to the hot spring. You were incredibly grateful that the surrounding wood was so thick and that the local village was so far. No need to be quiet. Sunlight streamed through the treetops, the water reflecting a soft golden light. It looked ethereal and you admired it for a moment as Giyuu guided you to the water's edge. The natural stream of the spring had whisked away the blood spilled in the night, the water looking tranquil and clear, light steam trailing up from the surface.

Sanemi slipped into the water, sitting on one of the stone benches. You followed, grateful for his rough hands on your hips to guide you. Sitting on his lap you shuddered at the feeling of his cock nestled against your folds. His muscle chest was hard against your back, the rough skin of his scars scraping against you. Giyuu followed quietly, standing in front of the both of you. Biting your bottom lip you waited, unsure of what to do next. The anticipation had your nipples hard.

“Me first.” Sanemi whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. He spread your legs, teasing the head of his cock between your folds. You shuddered in pleasure, the warm water of the spring washing up your chest with the rocking motion he created. You wriggled against his cock, trying to align his head with your twitching opening. Sanemi thrust upwards and you gasped as he entered you fully, your opening burning slightly as your walls stretched to accommodate him. His cock felt hot and heavy within you, the hashira grunting and cursing lowly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust. Your walls fluttered around him as you moaned, trying to accommodate his girth.

Giyuu had moved closer, his slender member rubbing between your legs, the tip of its head gently pushing against your stomach. You sighed, head lolling back against Sanemi’s shoulder as the scarred man began thrusting slowly. His hands dug into the soft skin of your thighs and you barely heard the whispered “Fuck” that he let out. His cock was as rough as him, the blunt head dragging deliciously through your tight cunt. The slow pace had the tip kissing your cervix, and you cried out, hips moving desperately against his for release. Tomioka lifted your head, kissing you gently. You pressed into his kiss, sighing as his hands gently threaded through your hair. He tasted slightly sweet, his tongue slipping between your lips. You gasped as Sanemi quickened his pace, his teeth snapping gently at the back of your neck.

“Hurry the fuck up Giyuu.” Sanemi huffed into the back of your neck, his nose in your hair. You shuddered as his teeth scraped against your skin again. Giyuu rolled his eyes, the motion so tiny you almost didn't catch it. He smiled, winking at you as he positioned himself, his hand fisted around his cock and he began to gently ease in.

It was incredibly uncomfortable at first, you whined at the stretching sensation as Giyuu littered your face with small kisses. Sanemi moved his hands from your thighs to around your waist, face buried in your hair as he whispered words of encouragement, “Good girl, take it all. Let us fill you.” You shuddered at the soft words, fingers clenching around Giyuu’s shoulders as he settled himself within. It was silent for a moment, the three of you still as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. You felt utterly filled, the odd feeling of both of them within you making your walls flutter.

“Ok.” You let out a breath, slipping your arms around Giyuu’s neck. “I’m ready.”

You weren’t sure you actually were, your mind buzzing as Sanemi gripped your thighs again, pulling you more open. They began slowly at first, out of synch thrusts never giving you a moment to truly adjust. The pace, while slow, was agonizingly pleasurable, their offbeat thrusting hitting your g-spot. You moaned into Giyuu’s ear, fingers digging into the skin of his neck as you leaned into him. He was panting low, his own hands gripping Sanemi’s shoulders in an attempt to keep himself upright. The white haired hashira sunk his teeth into the skin at the back of your neck, his rough fingers bruising your thighs.

You shuddered, hips moving weakly as you tried to keep up the pace. They had quicked their thrusts, both men slamming into you at a brutal pace. The small garden was filled with the noise of panting and moving water. The warm water was frothing slightly with the rocking motion the three of you were engaged in. The heat in your stomach had reached a height you didn’t think possible, you were desperate for release, the sensations of the two men inside you reaching an overly sensitive state. Moaning, you pressed down upon their lengths, nails sliding over Giyuu’s neck and into his hair as you tugged at him. The man was panting into your shoulder and he whispered something you couldn’t quite catch.

You cried out as Sanemi’s rough hand slipped across your thigh, calloused fingers rubbing gently over your sensitive clit. Whining you felt your release so close and Sanemi seemed to sense this, pinching your clit roughly. The action sent you over the edge and you came around them, tugging roughly on Giyuu’s hair. The Hashira gasped, head nestled in the crook of your neck. “Shit.” He hissed, his thrusting stuttering as he came within you, hot seed splashing across your walls. The sensation was erotic and you felt your walls clenching harder around them. You yelped as he pulled out quickly, stumbling backwards to one of the stone benches beneath the water.

His chest was flushed and he sat panting while Sanemi drilled into you at a feverish pace. You were still coming down from your orgasim, walls fluttering wildly around his cock. Sanemi stood suddenly, hands pinning your hips against his as he swiftly turned, pressing you against the side of the spring. You gasped in shock as your knees roughly hit the stone of the bench, breasts painfully scraping through the stones of the garden. Sanemi began thrusting again, one hand coming down sharply to smack your ass. You moaned, trying your best to keep somewhat upright as he thrust into you. You could feel his thrusts getting sloppier, the hashira cursing roughly behind you.

The wetness of your cunt mixed with Tomioka’s cum created a squelching that had your ears red with embarrassment. But it didn’t matter, it felt so good, you moved against Sanemi, moaning as your hard nipples scraped across the garden stone. With a final thrust Sanemi came, his hands holding your hips flush against his with an iron grip. You cried out at the sensation, drool puddling from your slack lips.

“Fuck.” He kissed, placing a kiss on your back, “Good girl.” The Hashira pulled out, surprisingly gentle as he pulled you into the water with him. Your legs shook and you swore your knees could no longer work. Both men worked together silently, gently using their hands to massage your aching limbs. Had you died and gone to heaven? Perhaps you had, you mused as you watched the beautiful men.

The dappled sunlight that streamed through the overhead forest lit them up like gods and for a moment, you could have sworn that they were. Shaking your head to clear the fog, you motioned back to the house. “I really, really think we all need to rest.”

Both men nodded, Sanemi lifting you in his arms and carrying you from the water to the house. Giyuu was quick to roll up the slightly soiled futons, pulling fresh ones out and laying them down. You thanked your past self for keeping so many ready to go. You towled yourself off, slipping on a sleep robe quickly. Giyuu yawned, laying down and patting the futon next to him. You smiled and nodded, turning to Sanemi and motioning at his soaked bandages.

“Yeah yeah.” The rough Hashira huffed, pulling the useless bandages off, rolling them up and tossing them aside. You snorted at him, happy to see that the lacerations were still neatly stitched up. Thank the gods his erratic thrusting hadn’t done more damage. He batted your hands away when you tried to bandage him again, instead opting to pull on a robe. Sanemi’s rough hands pulled you onto the futons. You laughed at the men as they snuggled against you, one on either side. And for the third time that day, you found yourself asleep between them.

It was nightfall when you were awoken again. This time by an unknown woman. She introduced herself as Shinobu Kocho and you realized she was the antidote woman. A true doctor, you were incredibly pleased to hear, she was there to tend to and escort the men home. Ushering the two sleepy men into the kitchen, she had set up shop, pulling all sorts of medical tools and medications from her bag. You began washing the bloodied uniforms in the sink, grateful to be busy as the smaller woman flitted about, her soothing voice filling the air of the room.

“My my!” She motioned for a salve and you passed the small container. Both men sat side by side on the counter, Giyuu stoic and Sanemi looking pissed. You wrung out and lay the washed haoris and uniforms across the top of the stove, draping a few articles over the fire. With the heat in the kitchen they would dry in no time.

“Mr. Tomioka you have 4 broken ribs, a concussion, dislocated shoulder and you were clawed something fierce on the back of your neck.”

Shinobu rubbed the salve across his ribs and you blushed as he looked at you. Shinobu was not facing you and for that you were incredibly grateful, tugging your robes tighter about your throat.

“I’ll be alright.” He looked at the smaller hashira, no change in his emotions. She tutted, wrapping his ribs gently. The man winced slightly at the action, hands clenching the fabric of his robes. “Your shoulder might be fractured as well, it's like a wild hog reset it.”

“Oh fuck off, its not like the little flower could do so.” Sanemi motioned at you as he spoke. Shinobu glanced at you, a small smile on her lips. Your face was still red but you figured she would assume it was from Sanemi’s comment.

“Mr. Shinazugawa let's not be rude to our host?” Something in her face made the man roll his eyes, but he nodded, looking over at you with a smirk. You smiled back shyly, wiping it from your face as soon as Shinobu turned around to face you. She clapped her hands together happily, “Your stitch work is simply marvelous, Mr. Shinazugawa needs no further treatment for the time being.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you stuttered a thank you, surprised at the compliment. Shinobu worked quickly and soon the trio of Hashira were ready to leave. You felt sad as they pulled on their shoes, biting your bottom lip to keep the emotion inside. The two men ushered her ahead and she did so, Shinobu bowing as she turned and began walking.

“I’ll be back.” Giyuu whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the retreating woman. Sanemi shifted, using his form to cover both of you from her line of sight. Giyuu leaned down, placing a quick kiss on your lips, his hand brushing over your cheek as he pulled back. You blushed deeply and smiled at him. He moved, switching places with Sanemi.

“Fuck him. I’ll be back first and I’ll delve in that divine pussy of yours.” Sanemi growled low, kissing you deeply before pulling away. You stood slack jawed as they turned, jogging to catch up with the other Hashira.

The crows who had apparently been roosting on the roof swooped down, the older one dropping a little red leaf at your feet. “Thank you! Thank!” They both bobbed their heads and you chuckled, picking up the gift. You patted each on the head and watched as they swooped off, landing on the shoulders of their respective owner’s shoulders.

Turning you sighed, going back into your now empty house. Time to clean up, you supposed and make a list of supplies needed for demon slayer care. Perhaps now was the time to read the ledgers of the house, surely they would hold a list. Entering your small office space, you looked at the volumes, pulling out one with handwriting you recognized. Flipping through you took note of various visits, wounds, and a single demon attack. It would be a huge help in keeping up this Wisteria house properly.

Your grandmother was detailed in her writing, but you frowned as you noticed a large skip. The ledger was consistent with updates at least once a week, even without a slayer visit, but this was a nine month gap? You read the last entry before the skip, a hasira visited, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Flipping to the entry from months later, your mouth dropped open. It was an entry detailing your mother’s birth. You shook your head, a coincidence surely. Dropping the ledger you pulled out the unfinished one your mother had begun. Flipping through you found a similar gap. A Hashira visit and then the birth of a baby girl, you.

“No FUCKING way!” You shrieked, pulling out ledgers from previous years. It was like a curse, each female descendant having a similar entry with a Hashira and a period of no entries for 9 months. The bad luck with dying husbands, the absent fathers. They were all Hahiras.

You groaned, sitting down among the strewn ledgers. Laughter bubbled up in your throat as you thought of your earlier actions. Lying back you cackled, rolling over the tatami as tears of mirth spilled from your eyes.

Desecrate your grandmother’s lovely wisteria house? Oh no, you participated in your family’s oldest tradition.

#sanemi shinazugawa #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyū #sanemi shinaguzawa x reader #sanemi x reader #giyuu x reader #reader insert #kny fanfic #kny writing #kny smut

227 notes · View notes

jdu662 · 4 years ago

Text

10 songs that bring back memories of my travels: Jo Frost's playlist

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of family holidays to Greece. These days Zorba’s Dance is undeniably a bit of a cliche, but when I hear that slow bouzouki intro, I’m reminded of my dad, who would put this LP on after drunken dinners and start dancing the sirtaki. I watched Zorba the Greek for the first time during lockdown last year when I came across it in my dad’s DVD collection. I was surprised by how much it affected me, making me pine for Greece – and for my dad, who I realise looked remarkably like Zorba (played by Anthony Quinn).

Vuoi Vuoi Me by Mari Boine

Womad has been the source of so many of my musical introductions: it was there, in 2007, that I first saw Mari Boine – the unofficial ambassador of Sámi music – perform live. It started a fascination with Sámi culture and joik, the distinctive guttural song style of the indigenous people of northern Scandinavia. Several years later I was invited to Kautokeino, way up past the Arctic Circle near Boine’s home of Karasjok, for the Sámi Easter festival. It felt like a crash course in all things to do with joik and reindeer, but it also gave me an invaluable insight into Sámi history and the people’s relationship with those who colonised their land. These days the Sámi have their own parliament, flag and national day (6 February).

That’s It! by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band

Like many others, I saw most of my travel plans scuppered last year, including a road trip from Nashville to New Orleans to coincide with the New Orleans jazz fest. The impetus for the trip had largely come about while binge-watching the HBO series Treme. We’d compiled a playlist for our journey through Tennessee and Louisiana, but when it became clear that our dream of visiting venues such as Preservation Hall in New Orleans wasn’t going to happen, we’d play it at home. This track by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band always lifts my spirits, gets me dancing and makes me dead set on rebooking our trip as soon as it’s safe to do so.

Bitori Nha Bibinha by Bitori

The most internationally celebrated artist from Cape Verde is the late Cesária Évora, the doyenne of morna music, steeped in saudade (nostalgia or longing). I could have picked any number of Cesária songs, but when I visited Santiago – largest of the Cape Verde islands – it was funaná that became the soundtrack of my trip, blaring out of the packed alugueres (minibus taxis), market stalls and bars. Funaná was banned by the Portuguese up until 1975 as they feared the songs in Creole were subversive and its frenetic dance rhythms immoral. Septuagenarian accordion player Victor Tavares, AKA Bitori, is the genre’s unlikely star, largely thanks to singer Chando Graciosa who persuaded him to record this in 1997, and to Samy Ben Redjeb of Analog Africa, who rereleased it in 2016.

Train Song by Sakar Khan

One of the most atmospheric festival locations I’ve visited is the Mehrangarh Fort, home of Riff – the Rajasthan International Folk Festival, held each October during the harvest moon in Jodhpur. This colossal red sandstone edifice reverberates with the sound of Rajasthani folk musicians such as Manganiyar legends Lakha Khan and the late Sakar Khan, masters of traditional bowed, stringed instruments the sindhi sarangi and the kamayacha. Riff is a full-on immersive experience and to do it justice, a certain level of stamina is required as concerts start at dawn, carry on through the heat of the day, then continue long into the night. Whenever I hear the rasping sounds of these ancient instruments, I’m instantly transported back to Jodhpur.

St Thomas by Sonny Rollins

One of the benefits of studying French and German (in those happy EU days) was being able to spend a year as an English language assistant in a school in Vienne, just south of Lyon. After my stint teaching, I volunteered at Jazz à Vienne, a wonderful two-week jazz festival held in the town’s Roman amphitheatre. I returned every summer during the early 1990s, making lifelong friends and getting a crash course in jazz in the process. Over the years I saw incredible artists, including Ray Charles, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil, and Sonny Rollins, who remains one of my favourite sax players. The experience became the foundation for my love of music from around the world and my work today.

The Plateau by Jenny Sturgeon

I’ve always found comfort in walking, and last year it took on even greater importance. So between lockdowns, my partner and I headed up to the Cairngorms to do some hiking. Just before our trip I received Jenny Sturgeon’s musical tribute to Nan Shepherd’s book about the Cairngorms, The Living Mountain. Every hike we embarked on would reveal different landscapes – and every type of weather imaginable. Back in London, listening to Jenny’s album brings back memories of those mountains, especially hearing the bird song on this opening track, as Jenny sings: “Step on step, foot by foot, we walk that’s how we know, through the heather and the mud, the plateau ringing through our blood.”

Count Your Blessings by the Como Mamas

One of my European festival highlights in recent years was FMM Sines, held on Portugal’s wild and relatively untouristy Alentejo coast, in the towns of Porto Covo and Sines. A really relaxed, friendly vibe permeated the opening weekend in the seaside resort of Porto Covo, where a mixture audience of locals and travellers congregated in the main square. The Como Mamas, from Mississippi, were unknown to me, but turned out to be a revelation. As the three singers took to the stage, the atmosphere transformed into something resembling a devoted congregation at a gospel gathering. Since then, Count Your Blessings has become a mantra, particularly last year.

Pothole in the Sky by Lisa O’Neill

One of the things I sorely miss during these socially distanced times is those random conversations you strike up with complete strangers over a pint. There’s nowhere better to do this than in Dublin, especially in one of the city’s many music pubs, such as The Cobblestone or O’Donoghue’s. I haven’t been lucky enough to see the Irish singer Lisa O’Neill at a session, although she was apparently a regular in pre-Covid times. The combination of chat, beer and music is perfect and I can’t wait to revisit.

La Grande Folie by San Salvador

Most of the travelling I do as editor of Songlines is to festivals around the world, and one of the things I most enjoy about them is the communal listening experience. There’s something visceral about hearing music being performed live with other people around you. For me, San Salvador perfectly encapsulate this feeling. A sextet from Saint-Salvadour in south-west France, they sing in Occitan. There’s a real physicality to their music and something incredibly powerful about the combination of voice and percussion. They always finish their sets with La Grande Folie – a song that resonates with these crazy times.

• San Salvador are due to perform at Songlines Encounters Festival at Kings Place in May (Covid permitting)

#songs

3 notes · View notes

avani008 · 6 years ago

Note

FMM, SRK, Arjun Rampal, Tabu, Tunisha Sharma (the kid in Kahaani 2)

It’s been a while since I came up with a straight historical/mythological—and I’ve yet to see one that is portrayed completely through a child’s unreliable narrative (it’s my imagination, I can have a child actor who’s good enough to pull off something on par with To Kill a Mockingbird or Beasts of the Southern Wild).

But: Choti (Tunisha Sharma) youngest child of an emotionally absent king’s (Arjun Ramos’s) unruly brood, is mostly ignored by her band of brothers and her beautiful, busy mother. Like her brothers, and everyone in their kingdom, Choti worships her father and dismisses her mother as silly and shallow. Her world revolves around her devoted nurse (Tabu) and her father’s Master of Arms (SRK, doing one of those cameos that are far more charming than a lead performance) to whom she runs away to take lessons at warfare. The Master of Arms is her father’s best friend, having rescued him from a tiger during a hunt gone wrong when they were young, and considers her his own daughter, despite his short temper. Her life is sweet and simple, if concerning about how much neglect she gets from her actual parents—until she wakes up to a terrifying discovery: she can understand the speech of birds.

(This effect is done with voice overs, with still more famous cameos. It notably does not feature any corny/creepy CGI because please, please no.)

Choti embarks on a series of misadventures around the palace, trying to come to terms with her powers and outwitting her guardians. All seems in place for a generally gentle coming-of-age fantasy: until her mother, who Choti had not even bothered to seek help from before as she assumed she’d be ignored, finds out and promptly confronts her father for allowing Choti for having to live so long in confusion. The argument escalates before Choti’s horrified eyes, until her mother, knowing the consequences, challenges her father to reveal his secret and say what the birds tell him: an act that demands his death.

Horrifyingly, her father complies—and when the price must be paid, commands his Master of Arms to die in his place, their prior friendship and life debt forgotten. Her mother is banished, and Choti, now wiser and far more wary of power and what a life devoid of it means, is left to the care of the one person surviving who genuinely loves her: her nurse. In the final shot, we see Choti watching her mother’s entourage disappear into the distance as her nurse approaches to call her inside by name for the first time: “Kaikeyi.”

(And because a girl can dream, the film is actually an adaptation of a book told in the stark lovely style of Til We Have Faces or The King Must Die.)

#fake movie meme #look you guys probably all saw that coming #but #this is still a piece of media i very much want to exist #thank you for the prompt!!!

9 notes · View notes

fanficwriter013 · 7 years ago

Text

The Tower - Chapter 21

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 21

Chapters: one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight

Word Count: 3277

Warnings: Smut (FMM, fingering, oral sex [male and female receiving], slight voyeurism, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Elly tries to resume some normal outings with friends. The birds make sure she has a warm welcome back from a night out.

Author’s Note: Written with Kate, she actually stops me from walking out in front of cars. @emilyevanston

Chapter 21 - The Nest

Therapy was honestly a godsend. Anytime I had some little issue I wasn’t sure how to deal with she helped me see a path to resolve it that I didn’t even realize was there. My therapist’s name was Alexa and she was actually an onsite one in the tower. I don’t think she saw all the other’s, Bucky definitely. He’d told me that he’d had a lot of trouble even getting one that was willing to see him, and Alexa had stepped up. Tony and Bruce too. Bruce for similar reasons, Tony just because with his fame a lot of therapists he’d seen had been quite unprofessional. I think a couple of the others too, but obviously, she couldn’t say, so I wasn’t positive. I liked that though, anytime I felt like I didn’t belong despite the others saying I definitely did, I talked to her about my feelings and she did the whole validating and reassuring me thing, it felt good. I know it’s slightly stupid, but it felt better because in my head I thought if they’d been saying things about me, then when I said to her I didn’t feel like I belonged in this group of superheroes if that was true she wouldn’t reassure me.

She made me feel better about a lot of things actually. My work and if it was valid or if I was just being paid by my boyfriend to do a hobby. That I wasn’t moving too fast or going too deep. She encouraged me to correct the things that were unhealthy, like the way I had just stopped socializing with anyone else since the kidnapping attempt. Tony always made Happy drive me and keep an eye on me. I think as far as the public was concerned Tony and I were definitely an item. My friends were surprisingly fine with having Happy watching over us. I guess it felt safer being in bars or like they were big deals. I’m not sure. They kept asking about him. I didn’t give them much. They did deplore me for not just living large on his money. I took note about speaking to Alexa about how I could tell if my friends were really my friends or not.

I got back to the tower pretty late that night to find Clint and Sam up in the common floor. They were still dressed but had pulled the sofa bed out and were sitting in the dark watching a movie. Bucky and Wanda had gone out on mission, so I hadn’t been expecting to find them. I was a little surprised to find my birds all alone though.

I kicked my shoes off and climbed over the back of the couch sliding down in between them. “What are you guys doing up by yourselves?” I asked.

“Bruce and Tony didn’t even come down from the lab tonight, just straight to the penthouse. Not really a surprise since their number one crush was out on the town.” Clint teased, poking me in the stomach. “And Steve was all ‘we have the blue frog circuit tomorrow, we should go to bed early’. We didn’t want to, so Nat went with him.

“Didn’t want you to come back and have to be alone,” Sam added.

I leaned up and placed a slow open-mouthed kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “That’s really sweet guys. You know, I don’t get nightmares like you do, right? I can handle one night.”

Clint shrugged. “Well, now you have the choice to or not.”

“So I get to be with my birds tonight,” I say and lean into Clint placing a kiss on his neck too.

“A bird sandwich is a nice thing to be in the middle of,” Sam said, resting his hand on my thigh.

“What are we watching?” I asked, looking up at the screen.

“It’s called Kingsman,” Clint answered. “We can change it if you want. We were just killing time.”

“I’m easy,” I said, resting my hands on their legs.

Both men chuckled and Sam draped his arm around me. “Did you mean that the way it sounded?” Sam asked.

I quirked an eyebrow at him. “When do I not?”

They laughed again and looked at each other. “Have we ever…?” Sam asked.

“Outside the bigger group stuff? No.” Clint answered.

I looked from one to the other. “I mean, we don’t have to. We can just watch the movie and go to sleep.”

Clint ghosted his fingertips up my leg making my skin tingle, while Sam pressed a kiss on my neck. “Is that really what you want?” Sam asks.

I shook my head. “No. I want both of you.”

Sam hooked his fingers under the hem of my shirt. “You’ve got a lot of clothes in the way for that.”

Clint’s hands went to the waistband of my pants. “Well, we’re going to have to do something about that.”

“I could say the same for the both of you.” I teased, helping them remove my clothes.

“Hmm… No clothes.” Sam mused, tearing his shirt off over his head. “Maybe that should be a common room rule for after dinner.”

Clint started walking his fingers over my stomach, making my muscles twitch. “Naked rule for the tower would definitely be an improvement.” I agreed, taking the hem of Clint’s shirt and pulling it up over his head.

“We’ll have to bring it up at the next orgy.” Sam joked, pressing kisses along my jawline and down my neck.

I chuckled and ran my hands up Sam’s abs to his chest and leaned back and started kissing Clint. Sam pushed his hands up under my bra and teased my nipples. I hummed into the kiss and Clint swirled his tongue with mine. My hands traveled back down and I started to fumble with the button on his fly. Clint reached over without even breaking the kiss and popped it open.

They both pushed their pants down and I unhooked my bra and just tossed it aside. Sam pressed himself against my back and Clint began to kiss a trail down from my neck to my breasts. I leaned back and sucked a patch of skin just under Sam’s jaw. When Clint reached my breasts he pulled a nipple into his mouth and grazed his teeth gently over it. I let out a soft moan that intensified as Sam’s hand went between my legs and into my panties. He teased his fingers up and down my folds and started circling my clit.

Clint began gently ghosting his hands over my skin. The very tips of his fingers barely touched me as he ran them everywhere he could reach. The entire time he sucked and bit at my nipples, moving from one to the other. While Clint did that, Sam fucked me with his fingers. He stroked them inside me, seeking out my g-spot and teasing over my clit. I ran my hands up and down their cocks for a while, but I soon lost focus. I felt fuzzy and slightly light headed. My skin prickled and buzzed. I let my head fall back on Sam’s shoulder. I whimpered and rolled my hips against Sam’s hand.

“That’s it, princess. We’ve got you.” Clint soothed.

“Please…” I whimpered. I don’t even know what I was asking for. As soon as the word fell from my lips, my core clenched and I came.

“What’s the goal here, princess?” Sam asked as he stroked me through the orgasm. He stroked his free hand along Clint’s jaw, and Clint looks up at him.

“I don’t know. I’m up for anything.” I answered.

Clint and Sam chuckled. “That wasn’t the question,” Sam said. “I’m looking for a number. How many times do you want to come?” He pulled his fingers from my cunt and held them up. “Anyone want a taste?”

I pushed his hand towards, Clint. “I want you to have them,” I said. “And good god! How competitive are you? Let’s just see what happens shall we?”

Clint took Sam’s hand and pulled his fingers into his mouth, making a small bobbing motion as he sucked them clean. It made me squirm to watch, a shiver running down my spine and settling in my cunt. “Sounds like a plan, princess,” Sam said in a low throaty voice.

“I like when you call me princess,” I whispered, my eyes locked on Clint as he sucked Sam’s fingers.

“Does my little princess like it when Clint and I have some fun?” Sam asked as Clint pulled off Sam’s fingers.

“Does my little princess like to watch?” Clint asked, cupping Sam’s cheek in his hand.

I squirmed between them. Their words going straight through me, making my pussy flood. “Oh god, yes.” I whimpered.

They kissed over my shoulder, almost fighting each other for dominance. I ran my hands around their hips to the small of their back, my breath catching as I watched.

They wrapped their arms around me and broke apart. “Does that do something to you, princess?” Sam asked, eyeing me with lust blown pupils.

I nodded. “Oh fuck yes. You look so fucking hot. Feel.” I took his hand and pushed it against my soaked panties.

“Our princess is so wet for us,” Sam said, slipping his finger under my panties and swirling it around. He pulled it out and brought it to Clint’s mouth.

Clint licked it and hummed. “Mmm, tastes good. Gives me a crazy idea.”

I nuzzled into Clint’s neck. “What is it?”

“We,” Clint said gesturing between himself and Sam. “Should take turns eating you out.”

I trembled and gazed up at him. When I spoke it came out as a squeak. “Okay.”

“Look, our princess thinks that’s a great idea,” Sam said, leaning over and kissing Clint.

“Well, I do like to make our princess happy,” Clint said and began kissing a trail down my body.

I lay back and spread my legs. “Maybe while Clint goes down on me, I can suck your dick. Would you like that, Sam?” I asked running my fingers up Sam’s side.

“Eager little princess, aren’t we?” Sam teased teasing his fingers over my breasts. Clint placed a sloppy kiss over my labia.

“Please, Sam.” I whimpered. My hips rolled up against Clint’s mouth and I fisted my hand in his hair. “You don’t want to? You don’t want to fuck your princess’ mouth?”

Sam straddled my chest. “If that’s what you want to do with your mouth, who am I to stop you?”

Clint put his hand on my hip, holding me down and his tongue slithered inside of me. l leaned up and took Sam’s cock in my mouth. Sam rolled his hips, fucking my mouth, never going too hard. I swirled my tongue around his shaft as he moved. Meanwhile, Clint used his mouth on my cunt. He sucked at my clit and lapped over my folds. He started fucking me with his fingers and dragged them over my g-spot.

I began to lose focus. Everything was fuzzy and heat swirled in my core. My legs started to tremble as I reached my climax. I released Sam’s cock unable to focus on anything but that.

Sam climbed off me and ran his hands through my hair “Come for us, princess.” He growled.

“Oh, fuck.” I whimpered. I let myself relax and my orgasm hit me hard. Rocking through my body. I arched up off the mattress and cried out.

Clint lapped up my juices as he rubbed small circles on my hips. “Clint, you should have seen the beautiful orgasm face you just caused,” Sam said.

“Oh god, Clint.” I panted sitting back up and leaning down. We kissed and I sucked my juices from his lips.

“No need to call me god, princess.” Clint teased as he and Sam switched positions.

“Well, maybe you didn’t make me see him.” I teased.

“Which one? Should I be jealous?” Clint joked.

I grabbed his hand and dragged him closer to me. “Just come here, nerd.”

I took his cock in my mouth and he ghosted his hands over every part of me he could reach. Sam started sucking on my folds and he pushed his fingers inside of me. This time things happened much faster. Sam deftly worked his fingers and tongue over my already sensitive pussy. I started sweating and writhing under him. I released Clint’s cock and just clutched at the sheets.

“Fuck… Sam... Fuck… I can’t… Oh god…” I babbled trying to make it last longer. It was no use, my head fell back and I came with a moan.

“Would you look at that pretty orgasm face.” Clint cooed running his hand through my hair as Sam stroked me through my orgasm.

“Thanks, I practice it a lot.” I panted.

Clint chuckled and pressed his lips to my forehead. Sam and I sat up and looked at each other. “Would you like this?” He asked running his thumb just under his bottom lip. “Or would you like to watch Clint and I again?”

“Fuck, Sam. It’s like everything you say makes me ten times wetter.” I said squirming where I sat. “I want to watch.”

Sam moved to Clint and they kissed slowly. Sam dragged his fingers up Clint’s stomach and over his chest until they reached the archer’s shoulders. I shivered as I watched the scene, squeezing my legs together to relieve the tingle in my cunt. “You both look so hot. Do you like watching too? When I’m with someone else?” I asked.

They broke apart and looked to me. “Watching is just part of the fun. Getting to see what makes someone else squirm.” Sam said, running his hand down Clint’s back, making him shiver.

I leaned in and kissed Sam as I ran my fingers over Clint’s stomach. Sam kissed me roughly, dominating me and Clint squirmed a little under our hands. He brought his hand to my pussy and ran his fingers up and down my folds. “Fuck, Princess, so wet for us.”

I spread my legs a little wider and broke my kiss with Sam. “It’s all for you both.” I hummed.

“Do we make you wet, princess?” Sam teased, bringing his fingers to my pussy to feel for himself.

Clint thumbed my clit and pushed his fingers inside of my cunt, leaning into me. “How do you want to play now, princess?”

I nuzzled into Clint’s neck. “Oh fuck, I need you. Please, one of you fuck me.”

Clint stroked along my walls before removing his fingers. “Of course, princess. Would you like these? Or should I give them to Sam?” He said holding up his slicked fingers.

“You decide this time,” I said, squeezing my legs together.

Clint hummed. “I think you get some special kind of pleasure from watching us, so these are for Sam.” He said offering them to Sam. Sam took them swirling his tongue around their length before sucking them clean. I watched them sitting on my heels and running my hands up and down their thighs and sucking on my bottom lip.

Sam slowly released Clint’s fingers, his tongue obscenely lapping over them as Clint pulled away. “Did that do something for you, Princess?”

“Mm-hmm.” I hummed, scraping my teeth over my lip.

Sam pulled me into his lap and I positioned myself so I could lower myself down onto his cock. I leaned back towards Clint and he moved up behind me. We started to kiss as I rolled my hips against Sam and he fucked up into me. Sam leaned down and started sucking and biting at my nipples.

I lost any sense of control I had. My legs trembled and I broke the kiss with Clint and just leaned against Sam. Clint snaked his arm around my waist and toyed with my clit. “Oh god, Sam. This is going to be quick.” I whimpered.

Sam’s hand went to my jaw and he leaned his forehead against mine. “It’s alright, princess. I’m right there with you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned back against Clint, giving myself to it. I feel it swirling in my core and when I came, it was like a dam burst. It washed over me and I arched back, my cunt clenching around Sam’s cock. He kept fucking up into me and with a hard snap of his hips and a grunt, he released inside of me. His cock twitching as he emptied.

I kissed Sam and ran my fingers over his scalp and down his back. “Fuck I love feeling you come inside me.”

He chuckled and slipped from me. “I’m a fan too.” He teased. “You got one more in you? Give Clint his release and we can go to bed?”

I slipped off Sam’s lap and turned to Clint. “Is that what you want?” I asked ghosting my fingers down his chest.

“Only if you’re up for it. Otherwise, maybe I can fuck Sam and you can watch.” Clint teased.

“No,” I whined. “I want you to fuck me.”

Clint pulled me into his lap and teased me with the tip of his cock. His hands trailed up and down my back. “You just want to be filled with more. That’s what it is, isn’t it princess?”

I nodded my head. “I want your come in me. Mixing up with his.”

Sam let out a growl, moving up behind me while Clint grabbed my hips and sunk deep into me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and leaned back against Sam, nipping at his throat.

Clint very slowly and deliberately moved against me, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back into me each time. I slowly rolled my hips with him, my hands roaming his body. Sam tilted his head to mine and we started to kiss. He toyed with my breasts and teased at my clit. I just gave myself them. Letting them gradually bring me to the edge again. As my orgasm approached and my cunt began to flutter around Clint’s cock, he picked up the pace, fucking hard into me. Each thrust pushing me against Sam.

Sam scissored his fingers around my clit and teased Clint’s shaft with his fingertips. I came again, arching back. My toes curled with it. My orgasm brought Clint’s with it, and he released inside of me in hot ribbons.

“Oh god, that’s it. Fill me, Clint.” I moaned.

Clint let out a sound that was half growl half moan as he continued to shallowly rut into me.

When we finally stilled I slipped from between them and just collapsed in a puddle on the bed. “You’ve ruined me,” I whined.

Sam and Clint curled up around me. “What, forever?” Clint asked.

“Uh huh. I hope you enjoyed it. That’s the last time I’m ever having sex.” I said, tangling myself with them both.

Sam wrapped his hand around my waist and rested his hand on the underside of my breast while Clint drew circles on my hips. “Like you could do that.” Clint teased.

I hummed and closed my eyes. “Remind me to kick your ass later for calling me a slut, Clint.”

Clint and Sam both chuckled. “You can try.” Clint teased, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“I love you both, so much,” I said, feeling the pull of sleep coming.

“Love you too, princess,” Sam said, quietly kissing my shoulder.

Clint brought his lips to my ear. “Love you, El.” He whispered. I hummed again and drifted off to sleep.

753 notes · View notes

gravityr00m · 6 days ago

Text

#birds fmm #rayz of soar #night bird

1 note · View note

gravityrooom · 3 months ago

Text

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Winnipeg Jets (@nhljets)

instagram

🇨🇦🇺🇲🏴‍☠️👀☠️❤️◼️🎬

#oops #Instagram #AUTOVIVE™#nhljets #NHL #birds fmm #blebs #columbo #science for freedom #bored columbo #shit from shinola #38 #GLITCH #lattice

1 note · View note

mooonlightrock · 6 years ago

Photo

«I saw birds take flight, and watched the moon bright for the first time. I danced to the sound of silence, just my private music on my mind. Nobody knew this could happen, I met all the colours of the sky, all the shapes of the clouds, still yet. Loneliness has come...» —FMM 📸 Model: @silviaf_98 #photography #model #bleachmyfilm #portrait (at Oviedo, Asturias)

#photography #model #portrait #bleachmyfilm

1 note · View note

koichanne · 5 years ago

Text

Disconnect to Reconnect

The youth today is too focused in the internet to the point where it gets too toxic for them. Too conscious on how much likes they get whenever they post a picture, and some value the amount of followers they get. It’s as if their eyes and fingers are chained to their phones, social media slowly consuming their attention and time. They’re so connected to the internet and in social media that they forget to reconnect with the real world, that they become alienated with one another when their phones are stripped from their hands.

6 AM on the dot was the scheduled departure from Stella Maris College. The break of dawn, the chirping of birds and the numerous yawns from each student can be seen and heard around the High School covered court. Tired faces deprived of sleep. Inside the bus, friends were seated to one another, the two advisers can be seen chatting at the front with the driver, and some can even be seen rushing to complete their Retreat Letters, or commonly known as RL’s. Before the bus started to make its journey to Tagaytay, due to popular belief, it is only right that there should be a prayer with a rosary before travelling to a distant place, especially if there are graduating students on board the bus.

The bus ride to the retreat house was quite calm in a way, some can be seen listening to music on their phones, some were sleeping, tired of waking up so early in the morning, and some were playing games while talking to their friends. When you look out the window, you can see the whole world go by, and eventually everyone in the bus dozed off. The smell of the fresh cold air greeted everyone at the retreat house. It was peaceful, there were bushes of plants and flowers, a great place for a photoshoot later on.

Fr. Christopher Tibong, OFM was the retreat master and moderator for the next three days of the retreat. For the first activity of the day, morning snacks were served and after 20 minutes, Fr. Christopher called the whole batch to the meeting area where he discussed about values and his life experiences. Then he instructed everyone to group themselves according to their respective Responsible Teams, or commonly known as RT’s and scatter around within the retreat venue. Every now and then you can hear people crying, some out of pure joy and happiness, some are because of the sorrow, anger, and sadness that they felt while opening up to one another. It went on for about an hour or so before the class were called back in the meeting place for another discussion.

Then came around dinner time, the kitchen staff never failed to serve us delicious meals. Graduating students of Stella Maris College have been using this retreat house for a long time now. Batch upon batch have come and go from this retreat house and came home full of positivity, appreciation, and love. Participating in a retreat has its ways to change one’s viewpoint after being disconnected from the internet and social media.

Discussions went on through the whole night, but the class advisors that came along, Mr. Rain Rubio, and Ms. Marife Corpuz, warned the students that everyone should be sleep early and that lights out will be on full effect by 9pm. On the second day, the students got the chance to revisit the graveyard of the FMM sisters near the retreat house. The sun wasn’t out at the time, crickets can be heard, frogs can be heard rustling around the bushes, and the night breeze was cold enough to send a shiver down your spine. Upon reaching the graveyard, the sun was beginning to shine and can be seen between the mountains in the distance. There was a clear view of the Taal Volcano on the edge of the graveyard. The students were had a task to do; to each find an FMM sister to pray over and ask for guidance. White crosses were lined up in both sides, the grass was well tended and taken care of, and some even had flowers placed by in small vases.

The routine of AM snacks, discussions with Fr. Chris, breakfast, and lunch. By the time it was the afternoon, Fr. Chris discussed about the importance of speaking up, fighting for what is right, and praying for those who need it the most. Eventually, he instructed the students to stand up on their tables and say share to the whole class what they wanted to fight for. Some had an emotional breakdown due to how the topic is for them. After the activity, the students were sent out to eat their snacks and take their siestas.

The night came around and Fr. Chris led the mass with the students. Each one had a responsibility and task to do, some were altar servers, some were part of the choir, and some were even documenting the entire mass. Happiness can be seen written on the faces of each one of the student, even the advisers. The following day was the last day of the retreat, Fr. Chris had his last discussion to the class and expressed his thoughts on the whole experience with the whole batch of Grade 12 students. It was time to say goodbye, but the students couldn’t leave without saying a proper ‘thank you’ to the kitchen staff for preparing and serving everyone delicious meals and making sure that they were all fed and satisfied.

On the bus ride home, everyone was doing their own thing, some can be seen reading their Retreat Letters, some can be seen using their phones after three days of not using it to reconnect and update their friends and families. Reconnecting with the real world, communicating with other people face to face, and appreciating the nature that surrounds us is a breath of fresh air. After the retreat, the students realized the value of disconnecting from the internet every once in a while, that it can have a positive effect on their well-being, and that they are less stressed compared to when they have their noses stuck to their phones.

0 notes

imagineclaireandjamie · 8 years ago

Text

Flood my Mornings: Unimaginable

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment: The Battle of the Gamete (Jamie helps Claire study)

@themusicsweetly asked: For when Claire eventually is preggers, their first time with an ultrasound machine.

So here’s the thing: 1951 is at *least* ten years too early for fetal ultrasound.

HOWEVER, this was one of the first FMM scenes I wrote after the reunion (even before this prescient ask!) and at the time, I wasn’t even thinking about historical accuracy. Soooooo, I’ll ask you to put on your suspenders of disbelief (TM @stageandhistory‘s teacher) and just enjoy the anachronistic ride.

[Also, there’s a bit more of a time jump on this one than I normally go for, but I was feeling antsy to get to a landmark scene, so HERE WE ARE. (but I’ve got some planned flashbacks in the works for later, so don’t hesitate to request scenes from the months I passed over, if you’ve got a need!)]

Late April, 1951; Harvard University Hospital

“Fine—Sweetheart—I’m fine!”

The words were barely more than a muffled mumble into his shirt. Based on how tightly he was clutching me, I should have insisted to speak with him directly instead of leaving the message with the Fernacre receptionist; or at the very least, I should have been more emphatic with her that there was absolutely no emergency at hand.

I hugged him tighter in reassurance. “I’m so sorry, darling—I truly didn’t mean to frighten you. Everything’s fine, I promise.”

“But Nancy said ye were in hospital.”

“At the hospital—at Harvard—”

“Aye, not your proper hospital—and I was in the furthest pastures—” he said in a rush, cupping my head hard. “It took them so long to ride out to track me down—that—and then the Traffic—I thought—the bairn—”

God, and what must he have thought? With my being several weeks past six months, the same time at which—

“We’re fine, Jamie, I swear. See? We’re in the academic wing, not intensive care.” I pulled out of his arms and tugged him toward the open door nearby. “Come with me: I have something to show you.” Trying to suppress my grin, I ushered him into an empty lecture hall and closed the door behind us.

Standing there, still in his work clothes and smelling of horse, Jamie was breathing heavily and looking as though he meant to either cry or fight someone or both. “Please say what’s happened so I can stop this aching in my chest.”

Despite his agitation, I managed at length to get him to sit in the professor’s chair. I leaned against the desk facing him, trying to keep back the storm of happiness. “You know I had my final examinations this morning?”

A nod, a pause, and then a tentative, “…Did they go well?”

“Very well, I think. But as I was gathering my things and headed out, my professor suddenly stopped me and asked if I’d be willing to assist one of the med-tech research departments with a demonstration. I was taken aback of course, but I trust Dr. Gordon—you remember, he’s the one that’s been so impressed and supportive?— so I was willing to see what was what, at least.”

This exposition did not seem to have done anything to lessen Jamie’s tension; in fact, he looked downright ALARMED at mention of me participating in some sort of vague experiment. Well, so had I been!

I went on, hastily. “And so he led me to the research wing and introduced me, and—And well, I called Fernacre as soon as they explained what it was that they were going to be testing out, because—Oh, Jamie, it would have been absolutely magical to show you as it was happening. But I managed to get the next best thing.”

I handed him the glossy print, heart thudding. “It’s something like an X-ray, see? This was only a prototype—very few people in the world have used this technology.” He kept staring down, and I babbled anxiously to fill the silence. “It isn’t even a good likeness of the fuzzy readout I saw. I badgered someone to find a camera, and the flashbulb reflecting against the glass television screen makes it quite hard to see, and I’m sure the print itself isn’t great, either—I badgered another department to develop it for me quickly, so it’s barely more than a blur, but…”

For more than half a minute Jamie had stared down at it, turning it this way and that—

But finally, the image must have clicked into place, for he gasped and nearly dropped it.

“You see it?” I was beaming, holding back tears. “Can you see?

“Is that…?”

“Yes,” I choked out, “that’s him.”

So engrossed was Jamie in the image before him that he didn’t immediately seem to hear me. Then, he looked up so sharply it must have hurt his neck, blinking like he’d stepped into bright sun. “H—him??”

“You can’t tell in this shot,” I whispered, not meaning it to be a whisper, but so hoarse with feeling I couldn’t help it, “but the technician was certain.“

“We’re going—” Jamie was grinning like an utter addle-pated simpleton. “—to have a—a wee lad?”

I nodded, smiling back but also weeping, lips pursed tight, and suddenly unable to speak at all through the lump of happiness in my throat.

“Oh, Claire…” Jamie was on his feet in a second, laughing and holding me as tightly as in the hallway, but this time in joy. “Oh, LOVE!”

The next I knew, he was beaming into my eyes, holding my face. “I’d have been just as thrilled wi’ a wee lassie, mo chridhe, but….Jesus, God, to KNOW—!! It’s…absolutely miraculous.”

“Honestly, this is— unimaginable to me, too,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against his as I looked down at my belly (at my son!). “To be able to see an unborn child….To be able to see right into the womb without cutting! I never even dreamed of such a thing. Jamie, it…I saw him.”

“And he’s—alright?”

“As far as they could tell.” I sighed and smiled, giving in. “Yes…yes, he’s alright.”

If two sane people could be delirious with joy and relief, it was us. We must have looked quite out of our senses to any passerby, so intensely we were beaming and grinning and clinging tightly to faces and hands.

Without preamble, Jamie stuck the precious photograph in his breast pocket, swept me up into his arms (ignoring any protest against handling my massive bulk), and settled back into the chair, cradling me in his lap.

We sat there in beatific silence for I don’t know how long, with soft touches and wordless sounds of tenderness and awe.

At last, Jamie simply couldn’t contain himself. “What will we name him? Our—son?”

We hadn’t discussed names at all, to date—both of us perhaps afraid to tempt fate until the birth was closer at hand. But I had seen him, today—seen the outlines of his tiny feet move at the same exact moment I’d felt him kick—And it changed everything. There was still risk, and there was still fear; but the hope in me was glowing and radiating throughout my entire being. This child, this little boy, was alive and well. He would be well. And he needed a name.

“Well, let’s see….” I beamed and traced patterns on Jamie’s shoulder. “I suppose we can’t have a Brian AND a Brianna.”

Jamie laughed, “No, indeed. The first Brian Fraser will get the big head up in heaven. Though what about your Da? Henry’s a good, strong name, aye? What d’ye think?”

“I’d very much like to use it as a second or third name… but I can’t quite see it as his first.”

“’His,’” Jamie echoed in a gleeful murmur. “…He’s a him.”

My delighted giggle hit me mid-kiss. “Yes, darling,” I crooned against his lips, “he’s a him.”

Jamie brightened. “Say, now, what about Robert? That was my wee brother’s name, and one of my Da’s as well.”

I must have made a face at this, for he smiled and rubbed my belly, leaning down to whisper confidentially, “Your mam doesna like your name one bit, wee Rabbie.”

I laughed and amended, fairly, “If you feel strongly about it, I might be persuaded. I’ve just—Honestly, I’ve never liked the name Robert. Robert…. ROBERT….” I tried the name several more times, making grotesque faces as I tasted the syllables. “No, sorry, just won’t do.”

Jamie wasn’t offended, and in fact, we both repeated the rejected name a few more times each, trying out ridiculous accents and intonations to completely rule it out as a frontrunner until we were little more than a mass of giggles there in the professor’s chair.

Then, as if by magnetic force, we quieted and turned our eyes back to my belly—to our little him.

We were still for a long time, both of us imagining we could see our son curled up asleep, as I had so briefly and hazily today.

“Lambert?” Jamie said.

I smiled fondly, but shook my head.

“William?” I offered softly, a while later. “For your brother?”

Jamie made a sound of acknowledgment, thinking, but said nothing.

There was a bird singing outside the tall, sunny window. Leafy sun-shadows spangled the walls and a tiny breeze brought the scent of spring to surround us.

And as a second bird chimed in outside our little haven, Jamie’s hand tightened lightly, significantly, on my belly, eyes shining. “What about…Ian?”

“…Ian…” I breathed back, putting my hand over his, feeling something settle perfectly into place. “Oh, yes, that’s….Ian…”

Not the blood-brother long-mourned: the brother of Jamie’s heart whose loss was still an open wound. They’d known each other all their lives; had fought together and defended one another, had been each others’ champions in battle and at home. And it struck me for the first time that Ian Murray was the only brother I myself had ever known, too. Ian had been a true kindred spirit, ever an ally in our den of blood-Frasers. And beyond that, Ian was—had been my friend. I missed his ready smile and his wit, his compassion….

Ian.

It was painful—but perfect.

“Ian…Henry,” Jamie murmured reverently. “A fine name.”

“Ian Henry…Fergus?…” I offered, my voice cracking.

I felt the convulsion go through Jamie and I touched his face. I know, love. I know.

Lord, the grief—the grief of holding one son between us and longing for the one we’d left behind; and for Jamie, how much more raw that grief. For Fergus had been there with him for those two broken years, had been a joy and a comfort to him when little else could be; and we could never see him again.

“Aye,” Jamie said at last, smiling weakly through reddened eyes. “Ian. Henry. Fergus. Beauchamp—”

“Fraser,” we finished together in a whisper, all four hands covering our little boy. Life and loss, joy and mourning, so inextricably intertwined.

There were tears in Jamie’s eyes, as there were in mine, and his voice was deep and husky with love as he looked down at our hands and rubbed gently. “You’ll do them all proud, Ian.”

And damn me, if our little guy didn’t kick, right on cue.

#;mod bonnie #Flood my mornings #Introducing....

300 notes · View notes