#even if she doesn't know the identity of her twin sister

[llamabois]

TO LOVE AND HATE, ENDLESSLY

Synopsis: You and your twin sister (MC) have been spending time with your parents. They decide it would be fun for you guys to play dress up and guess who is who. Caleb ends up joining in to your dismay.

No warnings are needed other than a bit of swearing, lol.

Side note: tried to use some pilot terms, but I might've failed lmao.

Taglist: @justpassingdontworry @macaronnya @itsmekalou @caramelizedpopcirn @xiaorixx

You are your own worst enemy. Not that you'd ever have expected that. It's been two weeks since your mirror reflection has come back into your family's life, and while you're happy for your parents, a part of you wishes you ate her in the womb.

Her eyes crinkle in the same way yours does, a smile a little lopsided. When she gets nervous, she plays with her fingers as if doing so will make a spell to banish away her fear. Just like you.

The first fear you've ever faced was your own reflection, so now you've learned to put two fists up to face your inner demons. You try bonding with her. Asking her about her childhood.

She tells you about how she grew up with her amazing childhood friend Caleb. Told you how he was almost like a brother to her. Almost, but not quite. Her eyes stir with a muted desire that matches your own when you look into his beautiful purple irises. She doesn't acknowledge this. Neither do you.

Shadowboxing is not an art you are unfamiliar with. For you were your first enemy. And you will be your last. Until you break bread with the parts of you that your heart has never understood; You will break bones and wreak havoc on your own psyched up psyche till nothing but the two of you are left breathless yet still attached.

Yet you still choose not to face him. Not until you're forced to.

Your parents have decided to take some time to do all the things they've always wanted to do with both of you but never could. And this time, you two were playing dress up.

Due to the fact that your hair was long (even though you've been thinking of cutting it recently,) you both sported the same bun with a pretty extravagant dress. How your parents got them, you'll never know.

"My goodness, you two are identical!"

Your sister laughs at this comment and turns towards you. "I've always felt like there was a part of me missing. At least I know it wasn't because my heart went dumb."

You want to feel warmth in your chest. You want to feel sorry for your dear twin who suffers from a heart condition after you lost her. You want to love her. Yet your fists are still up, and your heart is hidden on your sleeve.

And to think you're feeling this way all because of a damn man.

There's a ring at the doorbell, the two of you had changed again to match into some more casual clothes. Your mom excitedly goes to open the door. You pay no mind as you look at your sister and smooth out her hair that looked a little frazzled.

She looks at you intently, shocked by the sheer awe of looking at yourself outside of your body yet still within yourself.

She knows you're not all too happy to see her. And she has a feeling she knows why.

"Girls," your mom calls excitedly. "Guess who's here!"

You both look to the entrance of the living room, and your stomach does flip when you see who is standing there. His frame large against the small door. His eyes, some what in awe.

Not for you, of course, never for you.

"Caleb, dear, would you like to play a little game with us?" Your mom asks with a clap of excitement.

"Guess who is who between the two of them."

"We've got 3 out of the 6 times, right? Not bad, huh?" Your dad chimes in, proud.

As if not being able to tell which daughter you've held in your arms and taken care of the past 23 years of your life is something to be proud of. You digress.

You were identical.

"Sure," Caleb says as he takes a seat on the couch. Casually, he leans into the crook of the chair away from your parents. Manspreading like he owned half of the chair with just his presence. Purple eyes watched you both intently as you both switched positions a few times.

You tried to keep your expression neutral. But you knew that Caleb would probably be able to tell right away who his beloved Pipsqueak was and who was just a Bandit.

You both continue to circle each other. As you look at her, you look at yourself. A yin yang behavior. To circle each other endlessly till parts of you bled into who you've hated to be. To both be exactly alike, yet nothing at all the same.

To be yourself is to love and hate endlessly.

"And stop." Your dad says, clapping once.

You both look toward Caleb, who gazes intently at you. His eyes are heavy on your body. You want to look away, but everything within you wants to fight for a stupid victory. So you don't.

"This is pipsqueak, and this is my angel." He says, pointing at your sister and then you.

"Angel?" You question. "How did you come to this conclusion, Colonel."

"Well first," he smiles. "Pipsqueak doesn't call me Colonel. So you just proved my point, my dear mechanic."

Dammit.

"Okay, what else."

Caleb gets up from his spot on the couch and makes his way towards you, as if she wasn't there. As if no one else was around.

"Well...my dear angel often as a really defiant gaze when she looks at people. Especially me. Sometimes it borders on hatred I think." He smiles. "Unless it was something else." He whispers.

You look away.

You choose to run from his words rather than listen to them. How could he know that you wanted to jump into his skin, and carve a piece of yourself into him permanently? That you wanted the weight of his body on top of yours. The warmth of his chest, the desire in his eyes, the whirling of the mechanical arm that was never going to be a part of him yet still held a part of you every time that you tinkered with it in your workshop.

How you wanted the sound of that robotic arm to lullaby you to sleep as he wrapped himself around you brought his real arm to your stomach and caressed it gently.

He truly knew nothing.

Son of a bitch.

"True," you chuckle with a dark gaze. "But it doesn't border on hatred. It is."

"Oh, you know that isn't true."

"What i know is that there are somethings you don't come back from, and if you don't step out of my fucking face, I'll make sure that you face a death you don't came back from." You fake a gasp, "Oh damn, I should say, again. Shouldn't I."

Your sister watches your back and forth. At first, with amusement, but then also a sense of wrongness.

Like she wasn't supposed to be here.

She could tell there was something between you two. Something that was more than hate. It was desire. A language is so often hidden between the lines but felt so easily.

She had no place between that. After all, she was just Caleb's childhood friend, right?

Maybe she did feel something for him, a sense of belonging like no other. To have someone take care of you and treat you as a precious jewel when the world was determined to crush you. Caleb did that. He treated her as if she were a jewel. A diamond.

She shakes her head. She would be fine without him. Afterall, when this bastard blew the fuck up, she had to do everything on her own. And she'll continue to do so.

Or at least... she has her family still there with her.

"Oh angel, you wound me deeply." Caleb jokes sarcastically. But you're not having any of it.

"Would you like another fatal wound? I think we can make that happen."

At this point, your mom and dad left, and your sister also took her leave. Something about going to go change.

Caleb chuckles as he deepens the space between you two. His warm hand caressing your face. You want to throw something at him. Whether it's a chair or yourself, you can't decide.

"How did you know it was me." You asked again.

He comes closer, enough to feel his breath hot on your face. Enough for your eyes to linger at his lips a bit too long to be just friendly.

"Because," he whispered. "I'd know your little eyebrow quirk anywhere."

His hand traced your leg.

"The way you favor your right leg over your left when you stand, because of a classroom mishap you had when you were still studying at the DAA."

"The way you quirk your head to the left when you've been waiting for too long." His hand traced the nape of your neck. Then, he cupped your face and tilted your head towards him.

"The way your lips quiver with unspoken words. Your eyes, hungry."

How could he not know. It was the same look he gave you.

Not because you looked like her.

But because you were just you. Beautiful, utterly brilliant, bright-eyed, and amazing you.

He presses his lips to yours. The dryness of them, ticklish against your moist ones. His hands in your hair, as he breathes you in like you're the last bit oxygen he has left in deepspace.

You throw your arms around him. Your body flush against his, this moment, a dream. An endless yearning fulfilled like you've finally caught the sun after riding into the sunset.

Was this desire? Was it love? You don't know.

But you wanted to explore what it felt like to be loved.

Like a word lost in translation.

"Ay! I know yall are lovey dovey but no pda in my living room!" Your dad calls from the other room.

"Sorry, dad!"

He didn't want you to be her. He wanted you to be yourself.

And to be yourself is to love and hate endlessly.

[ericshoney]

Tara's Sister ~ Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You get to meet some of your older sister, Tara, friends, instantly clicking with Chris Sturniolo.

Warnings: possible swearing, teasing, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were staying with your older sister Tara. Tara is three years older than you and everyone said you were so much alike, you could be twins.

You were chilling in Tara's room on your phone, Sugar close by you, when you heard multiple voices from the living room. You knew Tara's roommates were out so you were slightly confused on who was here.

"Let's go see who it is, Sugar." You mumbled, the dog responding and following you out the room.

You walked to the living room where you saw your older sister, along with three identical males. Sugar trotted over, gaining their attention.

"Hey." You called, making one of the males scream.

"Fuck! Where did you come from!" He shouted.

"Uh the bedroom." You replied casually.

"Guys, this is my little sister, Y/n. Y/n meet Nick, Matt and Chris." Tara introduced.

"Nice to meet you all." You said with a small wave.

"Next time don't sneak up on me." Nick said, making you laugh.

"Try not to." You replied.

You sat down next to Tara and joined in the conversation they were having. The guys asked you a good few questions too.

"So how come we've never met before?" Matt asked.

"I'm on a break from college so Tara said I could spend some time here." You answered.

"What classes do you take?" Nick asked.

"Fashion and photography." You replied.

"But I've told her many times before she doesn't need to go to college for that, she's way too good!" Tara exclaimed.

"That's why I'm on a break, to see if I want to go back or not." You explained.

They nodded as you all continued chatting and making jokes. You noticed that Chris was eyeing you up a lot and you had to admit, he was kinda cute. As the day went on, you kept talking with Chris the most, having an instant connection with the youngest male.

Nick, Matt and Tara also all saw the connection between you and Chris, thinking it was cute. It was as if you two were in your own world, oblivious to the people around you, both smiling and giggling with each other.

When the guys sadly had to leave, you got all their numbers, Chris' being the first, before they left. When they did, Tara had a massive grin on her face.

"What's got you so smiley?" You asked.

"You and Chris!" She exclaimed.

"What about us?" You asked, trying to play it cool.

"You both had fucking heart eyes for each other! It's so stinking cute!" She shouted.

You laughed as a faint blush appeared on your cheeks. You thought Chris was cute and funny, even in that small amount of time. You then got a message on your phone, seeing it was from Chris.

Hey great meeting you today, was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime? Just us. 😁

You smiled as Tara squealed, looking over your shoulder. You laughed and set a reply.

Of course let me know when. 😝

You smiled and looked at Tara, who was smiling wide. You couldn't wait to hang out with Chris.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: part two anyone? 🤭

Tags:

@mattsfavbigtitties @lgbtq-girl @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @sturniolo-fann @riowritesitall

[tawneybee]

Okay so I had an intense fnaf movie theory

(⚠️SPOILERS FOR THE FNAF MOVIE⚠️)

So starting off, one of the major plot points of the film is that Vanessa is William's Afton's daughter, and that Mike and Abby don't seem to be related to them at all, right?

And there's a theory about the Golden Freddy Spirit BEING an Afton kid. Not just the blonde hair (the actor isn't a natural blonde, it was dyed for his role) but the way the kid seems to react to everything.

He remembers his death. That's a plot point for the other kids, that they don't remember their deaths and the drawings make them believe the Yellow Rabbit is a friend. But he does seem to remember, since he told Mike through a drawing that the Yellow Rabbit killed his brother.

It's uncertain why he doesn't tell the other kids, or why his main goal is getting Abby rather than getting revenge, but it seems he's playing William like a pawn rather than vice versa. It's only when William stabbed his sister Vanessa that he stepped in. And the way William reached out for him in the safe room like he was asking for help almost solidifies it.

Now back to my theory, I'm sure plenty of you have heard the theory that the Schmidts are actually Henry's children, not William's. It would explain why William drove 9 whole hours to kidnap some random kid in Nebraska if the kid wasn't actually random. Maybe a revenge scheme over some company fault.

So my thought is, the family dynamics with the Aftons and Emily's are switched in the games vs the movie.

Game:

Micheal Afton (eldest brother)

C.C Afton (supposedly middle brother)

Elizabeth Afton (supposedly youngest sister)

Charlie Emily (murdered twin)

Sammy Emily (supposedly survived twin)

Movie:

Mike Schmidt (eldest brother)

Garrett Schmidt (middle brother)

Abby Schmidt (youngest sister)

Golden Freddy Spirit (murdered twin)

Vanessa Shelly-Afton (survived twin)

I say twins because young Vanessa looks about the same age as GFS (although we don't know what year the photo was taken).

It feels like swapped dynamics to me. Garrett is a Charlie Emily parallel in their identical deaths, which could make both Mike and Abby Sammy Emily parallels as the surviving siblings. And the way Vanessa parallels Micheal A. (especially in her guilt and need to make up the kid's childhoods), would make GFS both C.C and Elizabeth. Honestly if GFS did have some sort of loyalty/passiveness to William murdering him like I mentioned, it definitely confirms an Elizabeth parallel.

I don't even need to mention how William makes Vanessa help him with his crimes (just like Micheal in the games) or how he plays with her guilt by blaming the mess on her (which suggests he would've blamed her brother's death on her, just like how Micheal feels guilty for C.C's death).

Sammy would probably also feel guilty for Charlie's murder, as that's how Charlie felt in the books when she thought it was Sammy who got taken. That was a situation that wasn't in the surviving sibling's control, just like how Mike couldn't stop Garrett's kidnapping. But GFS's murder could've been a preventable accident that Vanessa felt at blame for, just like Micheal for C.C (and probably Elizabeth).

MATPAT PLS NOTICE ME I THINK I'M ONTO SMT

[leo-artista]

Soooo I've been thinking about this roleswap au that I made and how Eda and Stan's backstories would change in accordance to their new setting, and here's what I have so far:

- Eda and Lilith's conflict stems from Lilith feeling like her accomplishments aren't recognized by her parents because they're always more worried about taking care of Eda (she's chronically ill, because in toh her curse is used as a metaphor for that so I thought it would be cool to include it here). And like Stan and Ford they never communicate about it, so it ends up souring their relationship

- Their fall out happens because Eda accidentally breaks Lilith's project, and Lilith assumes she sabotaged her on purpose. Then they fight and Eda decides to leave the house to get away from her sister and also her overprotective mom

- Fast forward a few years, Lilith calls for help from Eda because she was tricked by an entity she thought was her friend. They fight, Lilith goes through the portal, Eda steals her identity and spends 30 years working to bring her back, you know the drill

- So in this au I thought about making Luz and King twins, but then I had the idea of King taking Soos's place as the adopted son figure who works in the shop since it would kinda match with their canon relationship, so instead Luz and Vee are sisters here, and Vee's adopted. Idk if they would actually be related to Eda or not, maybe her and Camila are friends and she asks Eda to let her kids spend summer with her or something

Now to Stanley:

- So like. The whole "six fingered freak" stuff kinda doesn't work anymore because this is the boiling isles and everyone's weird here. I still want Ford to have six fingers because it's an iconic part of his character, but it's just seen as a normal thing in this setting so it doesn't change anything

- Ford has an afinity for all types of magic, and he wants to join the emperor's coven so he can be allowed to study and use all of them. Stanley's also good with magic, but since he doesn't pay attention at school and doesn't care enough to learn more than he has to, he's known as the "dumber twin", even if in practicality they're on the same level

- To be honest idk how the whole curse thing would go. Maybe Ford is manipulated by Bill (who takes Belo's place in this au) to curse his own brother in exchange for joining the coven because he sees potential in him? Well in any case, Stan gets cursed and attacks Filbrick while in his owl form and that's how he gets kicked out

- Maybe Soos could be King in this au, since I don't want Stan to just be all alone and I think they'd have a cute dynamic

- Mabel and Dipper end up in the boiling isles after they ditch summer camp and end up with Stanley. Dipper doesn't like him at first, but Mabel thinks he's really cool and she wants him to teach her magic (which Stanley eventually does, begrudgingly). Dipper really likes the boiling isles and wants to learn everything he can about it, so he ends up getting into Hexside (followed by Mabel who wants to learn more about the magic system so she can become the coolest witch ever)

- By this point Ford is working with the emperor and trying to catch Stanley because he thinks he can find a cure for the curse (Bill told him so, and he'd never lie to him, right?)

So that's all I have for now, if you have any comments or suggestions I'd love to hear it

[illubean]

Hii!! No idea if you take reqs rn but if you dont thats fine just ignore this!!

But if you doo... can you pretty please do the stardust cruseders x fem reader who has a identical twin?!?!

I wanna know how they would react and what they would think!! (Since i have a identical twin lolz)

Thank you and have a nice day!!>_<

Stardust Crusaders W/ an IdenticalTwin!Reader

Characters: Joseph Joestar (p3), Jotaro Kujo, Muhammad Avdol, Kakyoin Noriyaki, Jean Pierre Polnareff Type: Fem!Reader, Headcanons

had really great ideas for Polnareff and everyone else's is kind of short soz >.<

Warnings: none

Joseph Joestar

cannot tell you guys apart for the life of him

he just calls both of you by your name and see's who responds

pls do not sister swap and prank him he WILL fall for it 😭

he probably made a dirty joke about you being a twin at some point in his life (pls hit him for it)

honestly he probably has been hit more times than he can count for accidentally grabbing your twin instead of you 😭

whether its you or your twin doing the hitting you decide

Jotaro Kujo

even if you guys seem to not have any differences at all Jotaro can still tell you two apart without thought

even if you guys swap clothes or something he will just be like "??? why are you dressed like your sister"

and when you ask him how he knew he just shrugs

or he'll point out something so small, like maybe your left eyebrow is a little higher idk

but yeah finding out you had a twin wasn't that big of a deal to him

like ok cool whatever moving on

he probably doesn't interact with your twin like at all..

every time she's around he's kind of just like 🧍‍♂️ because he doesn't have much interest in getting to know her I guess

very much acquaintances and nothing more

Muhammad Avdol

another one who's really good at telling you apart, though not as instant as Jotaro

I think Avdol is a #certified lover so he spends a lot of time just admiring you

hence why he can recognize a difference

he knows you like the back of his hand too, so even if he couldn't tell you guys apart physically he could based off of your little mannerisms <3

he thinks it's cool you have a twin

he probably knows some nerdy spiritual shit about being twins idk

sometimes he might get you guys mixed up (or just genuinely say the wrong name) but he's quick to fix it and apologize

another one you shouldn't play pranks on because he just gets so genuinely confused and maybe even a little stressed...

Kakyoin Noriyaki

he can tell the difference but he has to stare at you really hard in order to get it 😭😭😭

relies on personality to tell you guys apart

or alternatively, he will get you some sort of wearable gift like a bracelet or something so he can tell much quicker

he doesn't tell you this though, he say's the gift is "just because"

then if you ever ask how he tells you and your twin apart he just says "I can just tell" (liar, its the jewelry)

Jean Pierre Polnareff

this guy...

the first time he met your twin happened to be when you weren't around

if you guys have different hair color/length/cuts bro probably just assumes you felt like switching styles and planned to surprise him or something...

"Oh la la, mon amour! I like what you've done with your hair!"

and your twin is just like ??? who is this guy

he probably tries grabbing/kissing your twin just to get punched or kicked in the nuts

and here you come, rounding the corner looking the same you did yesterday and he's like !?!?!?!?

he's not necessarily the smartest guy and considering the shit he's been through it's reasonable for him to assume your twin was the result of a stand...

and you're like bae no thats my sister

and he's like oh

he apologizes for harassing your twin...

if you guys are exactly identical like same style same hair everything this guy swears he can tell you guys apart when he really can't

he just goes by whoever responds to his nicknames

[plaidos]

I have no particular dog in this fight as I'm not a GF superfan or anything, but I would like to question a bit of your analysis.

I think you're right that the version of GF where Dipper is transmasc makes Mabel's canonical actions transphobic.

I would like to question the insinuation that those same actions would've been "normal sibling rivalry" (?!) were Dipper closeted transfem or even cismasc, as opposed to "worst sister ever" (!?) behavior. Especially if we're going with transfem Dipper, those incidents of bullying remind me much more of patterns of bullying against transfeminine people, and intersex people CAMAB (such as myself) that I've personally witnessed/experienced.

Also, to the idea that Mabel being transphobic fundamentally changes her character in some way. Like, sometimes characters we're supposed to like hold a bigoted attitude which they will unlearn over the course of the story. Sokka from Avatar and Weiss from RWBY come to mind. Mabel being one of those characters doesn't fundamentally change her storyline or arc.

you’re right, Mabel’s actions and teasings are still mean with a transphobic undercurrent — even if Dipper is a dyadic cis boy, to be honest. but she’s also a twelve year old born in 1999. i too have received the kind of bullying associated with the way Mabel acts towards Dipper about his gender, but i’ve also had similarly “jokes” from loved ones who didn’t realise how shitty they were being because they didn’t have the political framework to analyse what is fucked up about it.

but if we’re reading Dipper as transmasc, it’s like… everybody he knows is accepting enough of his identity to gender him correctly, but they’re still totally willing to say things to him that you would categorically know are bigoted even at that age. like a twelve year old cisgender girl who knows about trans people and respects their existence might not realise how needlessly callous she is being when she teases her (seemingly) cisgender brother for having “girly” interests, but that same cisgender girl would probably be able to identify that her openly transgender brother wouldn’t want to wear makeup and that it would be incredibly fucked up to make him. i’m not saying it’s “right” but Mabel needs to actively Be A Transphobe (rather than just having some twelve year old cis girl ideas about gender & masculinity) to treat Dipper the way she treats him if he is openly transmasculine, but I feel like there’s more of a plausible deniability. i feel like the Mabel we see in the show is a couple years away from being like “wow, that was spectacularly mean of me, i hope that didn’t have an effect on Dipper’s self worth”

i feel like if (in the crazy alternate universe where this is possible) there were an episode where Dipper came out as transfem after feeling hurt by Mabel’s jokes she would be really torn up about it. she’d say something like “i’m really sorry, i didn’t know you felt so strongly about gender… i thought we were just joking around but i should be paying more attention to how you feel, Dipper…. wait, maybe you don’t want to be called Dipper any more. Oh no I AM a bigot!!!” and then Soos would come in and be like “heheh. total hatecrime dude” and then we’d cut to Bill being like “i don’t care what gender you are pine tree… i’m gonna get that GIRL if it’s the last thing I do” except girl would be obviously ADR’d over in Alex Hirsch’s normal voice with his live action mouth over Bill’s animated mouth

also transfeminine Dipper has just always made more sense. the big argument was that he uses a nickname instead of his birth name which he keeps a secret. and that would make sense if Dipper had a girl’s name, but Dipper’s birth name is “Mason”. so he actually is choosing to not use a male name and instead use something gender neutral, even though he really loves matching with his twin sister & having matching names is a family tradition — so he probably has a pretty big reason to not use it, considering he still doesn’t even with all the reasons he has to.

[self-indulgent-fanfics]

a poem said by a lady in red

Bo Dallas x Reader, The Wyatt Sicks x platonic!Reader

A/N: Hello my love @nekosounds I’m so sorry this is flaming hot garbage, life has been rough for a moment but I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer. This makes reference to reader having a twin sister that she’s fighting with, assume this fight is within kayfabe, no real family trauma here today y’all. Also this doesn't follow actual timelines so that non-American readers can enjoy WWE visiting their hometown. Title comes from the first song that came up on shuffle.

Request: May I please request a Bo Dallas/Uncle Howdy x reader were reader feels all alone on Smackdown, but has always had a crush on Bo. Little signs appear like roses or something, the other Wyatt's watch over her, and finally Howdy comes out and confesses?

You entered the world an hour after your sister, and from there, it always felt like you trailed behind. She was the one who first started watching WWF when you were kids, she was the one who signed you both up to a gym, she decided your ring names “Havoc” and “Chaos” right before you entered your first indies tag team match.

She held you while you cried as you both realised your dreams were coming true and you were wrestling in the WWE together.

So when she told you, in the middle of the ring on Friday Night Smackdown, that she didn’t need you anymore, that you were holding her chaos back, your soul was crushed. Then she hit you with her finisher and it completely tore you apart. You were left on the mat, tears streaming down your face while she marched up the ramp.

Life was pretty lonely after that. Chaos was making a name for herself, defeating half of the Smackdown Women’s roster in her quest. Meanwhile, you had lost all three of your solo matches. No one in the locker room even attempted to check in with you. Chaos herself ignored you entirely.

Any time you weren’t wrestling, you were wrapped in a hoodie with headphones blaring. Any time you were wrestling, you went through the motions, taking heavier and heavier bumps. 

One night your lip was busted open from a stray elbow and you didn’t even have it in you to mop it up. The ref was the only person to make sure you were ok, but that was literally her job. Finally, your opponent pinned you and it was over. You rolled out of the ring and made your way to medical to get your face checked out. Once you were cleared, you returned to the locker room. Resting gently on your hoodie, folded on the bench, was a black rose and a note on beautiful cardstock.

You are not as alone as you think.

You looked around confused, wondering if whoever left the rose and the note left some other sign of their identity. Nothing. But smelling the rose made your heart skip a beat.

Your next three matches were more losses, but they led to more roses, white, pink, and orange, and more notes appeared with your things. 

We see you. 

We know you. 

We will be your family.

And somehow that sounded pretty enticing.

You looked into what the colours of the roses meant, and for the first time since your sister broke your heart, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Smackdown came to your hometown, so naturally Chaos felt like calling you out. She claimed it was the perfect place to do it, right where it all began. You made your way to the ring with your head held high. As a signal to your… new friends (?), you wore the orange rose behind your ear. 

Chaos mocked you as you walked toward her, teasing you about the rose, taunting you about your poor record, saying that all you were doing was proving her point. You were the weak link all along. Ignoring the tingle in your nose that signalled tears, you clapped back, telling her how you should have known she would turn on you, it was so predictable. She used you to get where she wanted to be and then kicked you to the curb.

As she sensed the crowd turning on her, your sister stole the rose from behind your ear and stomped on it, grinding the petals into the mat. You lashed out, trying to slap her but she grabbed your wrist then kicked you in the gut. You doubled over on your knees, coughing hard. Your sister laughed over your body, then lifted the mic to her mouth.

Then the lights went out. When they came up again, you saw her. Abby the Witch. A member of the Wyatt Sicks. She stood between you and your sister, who scrambled out of the ring.

Abby turned and reached out a hand, lifting your chin. She placed a red rose behind your ear and leaned down, whispering only to you. 

“Join us. Join him.” She turned to walk away and you tried to grab her. How did she know? Only two people knew about your crush on Bo Dallas. You and… your sister. Oh, that bitch and her mouth.

Your feud with your sister escalated from there, sniping each other on social media, taunting each other in promos, culminating in a best of three tournament between you two to determine who would contend for a belt (and you supposed, for bragging rights). 

The first match, she won. The second, you won. And after your win, you were visited again. The lights went out in the arena. Chaos abandoned you in the ring, running through the crowd.

This time, the entire family was there. Clearly Abby was their “spokesperson” when it came to you. She approached first, reaching out a filthy hand. You stepped closer, ignoring Wade and Joe begging you not to. You held her hand tight as she led you up the ramp to the intimidating head of the family. Bo stood tall and you couldn’t help the shiver up your spine.

He gave you a gentle kiss on your free hand and you felt a little overwhelmed with all the eyes on this strangely intimate moment.

You pulled back and ran back down the ramp, following your sister in escaping.

Finally the deciding match between Havoc and Chaos arrived. You were on later in the night, so you made sure you were fully warmed up and limber. Then you sat with your eyes closed and your headphones on, readying yourself for war. 

The match was hard fought, both of your bodies battered and ruined, the bumps getting harder and harder to take. But you won. You did it. You proved that Havoc no longer needed Chaos. You were just fine on your own.

But you weren’t on your own, not anymore. The lights went out once more as you stood victorious over your sister’s broken body.

A lantern called to you from the dark. You moved like a moth to the flame. Bo held the lantern high, using his free hand to caress your cheek gently.

“I’m proud of you my angel.”

You smiled wide and kissed him firmly on the cheek. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you away. You had found your new family.

[thinkinthoughtsalot]

I'm so incredibly exhausted with the narrative that if you question Gwyn as a character it's because you have an agenda against her. That if you think she's suspicious it's because she threatens your ship.

Listen. I enjoyed Gwyn and Emerie in Silver Flames. I liked them both as friends for Nesta. Emerie resonated with me a little more than Gwyn, but I still found Gwyn to be an adorable and fun character. Her refusing to leave Nesta in the Blood Rite was one of the most heart wrenching moments of the entire book and had me in tears.

Gwyn is, however, sus af. From her singing triggering Nesta to talk about and have visions of the Dread Trove (she definitely doesn't have singing related powers), to her excelling at training being explained away as pliant bones (because she's never physically trained before, right?), to faintly glowing when she sings (light and singing, nothing odd there), to her bringing up Truth Teller and somehow knowing it was used to kill Hybern (how does she know this? Why do she and Emerie use almost identical wording when mentioning Hybern's death, but only Gwyn mentions the Shadowsinger's knife?), to feeling unworthy of wearing the invoking stone (why? Because she failed to save her sister while outnumbered and brutalized, even though she successfully saved a bunch of children? I don't want to imply that her feelings about her own grief and trauma are wrong in any way, but is it just guilt over her twin or something more?), to her saying that if Nesta and Emerie knew everything they'd think differently of her (what are you hiding Gwyn? What could make your deeply traumatized closest friends think less of you?), to Nesta noting she has a secret beneath her pretty face (what secret? Her nymph heritage? That's not a secret, she's open about it), to the surprising authority in her voice and the way she made Nesta's powers grumble.

And this is all in the main text of ACOSF, completely excluding the Azriel bonus chapter. These are all things that I noted on my first read. There was nothing in the book that made me think "romance" or "mates" or "threat to my ship" in the book, but there was a whole lot of weirdness around Gwyn. In the same book where we're introduced to lightsingers. These are things that all set off alarm bells for me before I even knew GA was a ship.

It's not an agenda against Gwyn or a petty reaction to a crackship. It's all right there in canon, no twisting of the text required. Az's bonus chapter is just confirmation of what we already knew from the book - Az and Elain have feelings for each other that are not platonic, and Gwyn has something going on with her singing and luring.

That's it. No hate, no agenda, no threat to Elriel.

[serene-sky-kid]

I was finally able to finish the design of this character, it's been months (literally since I got the hair last year) that I wanted to make a character with the narcissist hairstyle, a friend gave me the Days of color pants and I almost haven't worn my other outfits since then. Honestly, I've created a handsome character just to dress him up in different clothes, don't judge me.

Anyway, His name is Altair and he is one of my characters that live in the Aviary, he has a job that makes him travel to the other Realms frequently but his home has always been there since the Aviary became the main city. He has a twin sister named Alhena, she is currently missing, some consider her dead, but he firmly believes she is still alive somewhere.

Other things under the cut

Quite social, a bit charismatic, but introverted, a lot of social contact overwhelms him even if in front of the public he seems quite normal.

he has a good sense of humor, he laughs at everything, even his own mistakes.

He is not interested in flirting and if asked he will be terrible at it, he accepts compliments but if you flirt with him he will respond with discomfort.

50% of his landings go wrong, hitting the ground or with his head stuck in the sand is his daily routine.

He is a friend of Eko's and I plan to make a whole little story out of it

They are identical with his sister, they even share the same body shape, but he doesn't have a feminine build, his sister is the one who looks like a boy and many times they get confused, she enjoyed that

He has a very strong connection with his sister, they can coordinate perfectly when they are close and when they are far away they can “feel” each other, however, what he feels now is uncertain, he has traveled through all the Realms looking for her and that feeling has not changed, he has not felt her closer, the only thing he knows is that she is not dead.

[anghraine]

hi sorry if this is a silly question but is lizzie in pride and prejudice canonically pretty? i know she's not as pretty as jane, who is very beautiful, but she's described as bright-eyed and having a pleasing figure i think, but darcy at the very beginning says she's not handsome enough to tempt him (lol) right? was he 100% being a snob or is she really just "cute" but not really pretty? thanks :]

No problem!

Elizabeth is canonically pretty. She's generally considered the second most attractive of the Bennet sisters, all of whom are narratively described as pretty/handsome except Mary. Elizabeth is described as "Mrs Collins's pretty friend" and even Darcy himself very quickly realizes that she's attractive. She's not a striking classic beauty like Jane (or Darcy himself!), but she's good-looking enough.

I think Darcy's initial insult sometimes gets weighted a bit too heavily in discussions of Elizabeth's canonical appearance, tbh. Only a few scenes later, he admits that he never dances at all when he can avoid it. He particularly dislikes dancing with strangers. He's in a bad mood. And he's already a fish out of water in Meryton, a backwater village he's never been to before when he's used to far more elite and/or urban environments. He's behaving poorly that night, but IMO it's a perfect storm of factors that have almost nothing to do with Elizabeth at first. She could have been Jane's identical twin and he'd have still come up with a reason to be an asshole about it.

In fact, Darcy shows no interest in dancing with Jane either despite his mention of her; he doesn't actually want to dance with anyone, and the only reason Elizabeth comes up at all is because Bingley brings her up. I think Darcy's annoyance is primarily with Bingley, rather than Elizabeth. In Darcy's view, Bingley immediately pursues the only vaguely high status woman in the room and then publicly tries to peer pressure Darcy—who he's got to know hates dancing and who admits to being in a poor frame of mind—into dancing with a much less attractive reject.

In the moment, the whole thing reads to Darcy as just kind of insulting. He's lashing out at Bingley to make that clear and to get him to back off. I suspect he realizes it was shitty and his private insistence that Elizabeth is objectively undesirable is a weak attempt to justify his behavior.

Elizabeth isn't strikingly beautiful or anything, but Darcy's main priority is defending himself. It doesn't seem to take more than a few days for him to decide Elizabeth is actually pretty and cool and charming; he was just too annoyed to see past her unconventionality initially. He finds this deeply embarrassing (not the only thing he should!), but he was never being objective about Elizabeth's appearance. He just didn't want to dance with a stranger and was aggravated with Bingley.

[dw-flagler]

Case 70 Dallon Sisters

This is a really fun one!

Let's assume that Case 70s are way more common, because canonically only twins can be case 70s and only in really specific circumstances, and the dallon sisters aren't blood-related at all, let alone twins. In fact, amy not looking like the rest of the family is a fairly major detail. So let's assume you only need the "they both trigger at the same time while touching eachother" part, not the "and also they're twin siblings" part.

A lot of this depends on when they trigger. The longer we go without them triggering, the weirder and harder this gets.

I think the best option we have here is that Victoria doesn't trigger at the basketball game, she actually triggers during amy's trigger event. Basically simultaneous, like the capricorn twins. That's how they trigger while touching each-other.

Their dynamic would be kind of weird. The capricorn brothers are supposed to hate eachother and their status as case 70s is supposed to WILDLY exacerbate that, but (at least at this point) the dallon sisters just get along. Obviously, not as well as they got on in canon (minus the wretching), they'd fight each-other way more than they did canonically (pre-wretching), but I can't see either of the sisters actually going super far like the capricorn brothers did.

Honestly, as far as I'm seeing, it's actually almost kind of a net positive for amy's mental health as opposed to canon. She wouldn't have the same kind of pressure placed on her as she does in canon, both because I don't think she'd be a healer (and thus would not be suffering from healing burnout) and wouldn't really have a similar pressure from her insane capacity for harm. This version of amy wouldn't feel like she was constantly holding herself back from killing hundreds of people, since she has a different power.

Also it would be harder for her to specifically develop romantic feelings towards victoria? I mean, they would never fight as badly as the capricorn brothers, but being a case 70 means by necessity they'd be stepping on each-others' toes and fighting eachother more often, creating a lot more resentment than the canon dallon sisters. I mean, think about it. You can get along with somebody really well until you're stuck with them. And in this scenario amy and victoria are very literally stuck with each other.

That being said if amy did develop romantic feelings towards victoria it would be way more creepy and awkward. Though it's pretty awkward no matter what.

It would absolutely fuck over new wave though. Like the vast majority of case 70s we see in canon hide the fact that they're case 70s, at least to the general public (cause there's basically no way to spin it)--Capricorn (the only canon case 70 we really see anything about) wasn't hiding it, but they weren't telling anybody outright either. But. New Wave doesn't--can't, even--have secret identities, so there's no way to feasibly hide this.

I imagine--okay, you know the worm fanfic swallowtail? So in Swallowtail New Wave is a pretty big deal in brockton. So they have their own webpage, with these very sanitized character profiles for all the members. I'm imagining something like carol writing the new wave web page and having to find some way to spin "two of my daughters are trapped together for eternity" into a harmless family friendly thing. You can't! you can't do that! It just doesn't work.

But what would actually be their powers? Now that's hard. Usually, when I do these, something will, you know, like, pop out as a cool thing. But there's really nothing that springs to mind for this! So let's do this step by step and hopefully something will grab me.

So, first, Amy. Amy's trigger event here would be basically completely identical to the one in canon. Amy sees her sister bleeding out and triggers from not wanting her sister to die (and leave amy alone). more or less i'm not an amy expert.

Second, Victoria. She's got a different trigger from canon. So, in this AU i'm coming up with, victoria doesn't trigger at the basketball game, but the basketball game still happens. And it affects her as a person. so the idea, I guess, is that victoria's trigger here is more like a drawn out version of her trigger event at the basketball game. Same trauma, but instead of her being like "i've never achieved anything" it's her being like "i'm going to die without achieving anything" so it's the same trigger but slightly different.

Okay, so, basically, my idea is that the Dallon Sisters share a body between each other, which they can swap between in a manner similar to the capricorn brothers. However, unlike the capricorn brothers (where the brothers swap places by having the brother who's fronting will himself to swap places), the dallon sisters would swap by the sister who's not fronting willing herself to swap places. I like the idea because it would be just as awkward but in a different way.

I'm not sure if the dallon sisters should be able to communicate without swapping out, so like victoria's fronting but she can hear amy. I suppose I'm open to either option, or maybe some third thing. Get in the comments!

But anyway, each dallon sister, when fronting, has a different changer ability. My second* idea is that the dallon sisters look like angels. But different kinds of angels. BIG DISCLAIMER: I have never read the bible in my life so I only know this from google. It's likely not totally accurate!

I'm thinking that Victoria's changer form takes cues from the idea of a Powers angel. According to this wiki I read, they're the most fight-y type. Here's a picture of one:

Now, perhaps interestingly, I actually don't think victoria would look much like this. I think it's kind of boring actually. There's one that's more accurate to what I think she'd look like, which is this:

but this is actually a Virtues angel, so a completely different type. I just like the less greek/roman-inspired armor and the big wings.

My idea for victoria's changer form would be human-esque, but not quite so much Just A Normal Guy With Wings like the pictures. My idea is that she'd more be stained glass taking the appearance of an angel. Still able to speak and move normally, and it would be very finely detailed stained glass, but very distinctly she's not made out of meat.

So basically, visually, my idea is a mix of these two images. The form and ridiculously large wings of the second, but a kim kitsuragi Big Circle Behind Head style halo and big red shield of the first. No sword.

I like the idea of her shield working almost identically to her canon forcefield, but directed. So, it basically stops any attack but immediately pops out of existence afterward. She also has a second forcefield which is completely invisible and about an inch above her skin that acts like a video game energy shield. It has, say, 100 hit points, and it can take 99 damage and recharge to 100 hit points in like 10 seconds, but if it takes 100 damage it completely shatters and regrows which takes way longer, like, 30 seconds or something. The forcefield is completely invisible but her halo is a visual indicator of how well it's working. If her halo has a bunch of cracks, her at like 10%, and if her halo shatters like glass, the forcefield is also broken. Oh and also the shield disappears. So like she can never have the shield if the halo isn't there.

One thing I really like is the idea that her entire angel form looks kind of immaterial, but her shield and halo are extra immaterial. If we take the stained glass idea, then the shield and halo are still-see-through tinted glass.

I also like the idea of her being able to fly but it very clearly not being because she has wings. Like, she just kind of floats. And she can't fly if the halo shatters. Basically, like all her abilities depend on the halo being there.

Meanwhile, Amy is a Thrones angel. Those are the Biblically Accurate Angels that everybody goes hog wild for. Here's a picture of one:

So these are both angels, but a thrones angel is the creepy one that looks monstrous and the potestates one looks like A Guy With Wings. Now, most depictions of thrones angels have the wheel thingies absolutely covered in eyes, but this one doesn't.

I like the idea of amy's form being similar to this, but way more stuff going on. Way more wings, which seem to sprout nonsensically from every gap in the wheel thingies, and hands, arms, and tendrils which also appear nonsensically, either from gaps in the wheel thingies or off the wings They also just sort of float near her person, seeming like they sprouted from something. The halos are actual physical objects, being, like, wrapped around the wings and arms.

Basically, the second you see amy's changer form (and you're not like "what the fuck is this") you immediately wonder how everything doesn't get horribly tangled.

For her abilities in this form, amy of course has a very passive ability that she just sort of. has dozens of arms and tendrils and stuff which are very long and sprout from anything, even appearing from nowhere and just kind of floating around. She can spawn or delete them at will, but there's a minimum amount of, like, 14 or something. Otherwise, she's got an extremely similar forcefield to canon victoria, but it takes more to pop and regenerates quicker. Each spawned arm is either part of the one forcefield, or has its own individual forcefield, if it's free floating. They still have to be in a pretty short radius though

the idea is that victoria is really strong against one target but weak against groups, but amy is strong against groups but weak against one target.

One idea i thought was kind of neat is that the longer victoria stays in her changer form, the more arms and wings she seems to grow, meaning that she has to either revert to human or swap to amy to stop it. Sort of a gradual change.

Oh, and each sister has a different thinker ability when they're not in control. So, like, when victoria's fronting, amy can see 360 around her and when amy's fronting victoria has a combat thinker power of some kind. I dunno i'd have to workshop it.

Whereas the vera brothers' powers incentivize swapping out often and quickly, but swapping out being hard, the dallon sisters' powers are the opposite, incentivizing staying as one sister but swapping out being really easy.

I don't really know why angel popped out at me, the dallons are only catholic coded. Angel themed capes is also a really tough market since, you know. The Simurgh.

As a composite cape, I do like the idea of them being named something like Seraph to lean into it. Which you'll note neither of them are based on an Seraph at all and it doesn't actually make sense. But branding calls.

[yandereduckie]

Please I would like to know, I think your writing and your fanfics on AO3 are wonderful!

— Mister Void, at your pleasure.🖤🗝

(Notice: Mister Void was asking about my AU and/or headcanons, but for some reason Tumblr bugged and it didn't appear)

OH YES PLEASE LET ME!!!😍🤩No one ever wanted to hear about it🥲

I feel like:

I think that's why she's one of my strongest Kins- BUUuuuut going back

It's not exactly an AU, since I didn't write anything anywhere, I just have it all stored in the back of my brain.It's more like a preference and a mix of several Headcanons and concepts that I took from some fanfics I read on AO3.

Like for example, the Batfam being absolute cryptids and scaring the shit out of everyone else in the hero community. For this trope, I usually like to think of the Batfam as having managed to build functional, realistic and beautiful wings.

Oh yeah, and let's not forget the classic bird language. Oh oh and the feline like claws and pads on the gloves too!Also, I like to think that Billy joined the family like, half a week after being invited to the League, seriously, he may be magical and a little more mature, but he's still a kid, and the Bats only need one slip-up from him to put the pieces together.

I also like to think that this Billy doesn't have the others from Shazamily, yet, because I want him, the way he is, to look at this bunch of orphaned street kids(and his lost twin sister of course), and simply give a Batman, taking them to the mansion just to shock everyone that the first one(technically second because of the whole Park Row's children and Jason thing) to start having Bruce's addiction to adoption was not Dick but Billy.

And even though I haven't put this in either of the two fanfics I've written so far, I'd like Bruce's parents(and Alfred) and Clark's parents to meet before the two were even born yet, and for them to grow up as brothers, and for the Kent farm to be an escape from Gotham's overwhelming elite and the spotlight for Bruce.

I want a young, stubborn Bruce to take a young, scared Clark around the farm and find Clark's ship, I want them to find out sooner what Clark is, who he was, his birth name, I want this duo of kids to be the ones to find out that Diana Prince is Wonder Woman and for her to take them as apprentices (References to an AO3 fic called Shadow Demon, it's really good, oh and I'm also getting a little bit of Alternative Heroes, Same Hearts).

I want a good relationship and communication between the Batfam, make Alfred forcefully shove an angry teenage Bruce into a therapy room, and of course, the training with the monks, and make him be very grateful for that now that he has to take care of other traumatized and vengeful little humans.

I want Jason to be caught sooner, that he was trying to steal Batman's tires to buy medicine for his mother, I want Bruce to take this child and feed him and promise to help in the best way possible, I want Bruce to take him to the moldy apartment that the boy calls home, I want him to realize the state of his mother, I want her to have already left, that she took advantage of Jason's departure to be able to get rid of her pain without having to do it in front of him. I want Bruce to comfort a young and hysterical Jason, I want this boy to cry himself to sleep only to wake up wrapped in the softest sheets of his entire life.

I want a Bruce who reveals his identity to Jim before he even considers taking a young, eager Barbara under his wings, okay? I want a responsible Bruce.

And don't make poor Lucius have so much stress.

I want Bruce to notice the little shadow following them (seriously, I think it's cool that Tim managed to do this without getting caught, but not here, Batman, Batwoman [yes, she comes sooner, i want Kate to come visit her cousin and see the shit he's doing and refuse to leave until he includes her] and Robin have wings, with sensors to feel things that normal people don't feel, like changes in the air, or even sensors to smell more specifically.), I want Bruce to notice that the neighbors left, but his son didn't go with them, I want Bruce to pick up this abandoned boy and wrap him in a hug.

I want him to see the daughter of one of the Rougues trying to sabotage her father, I want him to accept the help willingly and try to slowly gain her trust, I want a Bruce who saves Stephanie from her own father, I want a Bruce who couldn't save her mother, I want a Steph who even though she's sad doesn't blame him. I don't want Tim and Steph to date. I want them to be siblings. I want them to be best friends. I want them to be like twins. I want them to be chaos gremilins together!

I want Talia to not be evil, I want her to be essentially kind, I want a Talia who blames herself millions for what she did to Bruce, I want a Talia who looks at this tiny baby in her arms and loves him unconditionally, I want a Talia who can't stand watching the training her father gives to her baby, her son, I want Talia to take a 3-4 year old Damian and take him to Bruce, I want her to get hurt in the escape, I want Bruce to save her, but I also want her to run away, run away far away so that the LoA doesn't get close to her little and adorable Dami, nor her beloved, or the children he took as his. I want them to have a complicated, distant, forbidden, cursed by others, but true and lasting love.

I want the cat and bat game to be between Kate and Selina, I want more lesbian couples!!!Harley and Ivy? Stuning lesbians.

Oh, and the Joker and Jason incident... I want a Jason who feels so loved in a way he's never felt before that he musters up the courage to talk to his father(!), I want him to tell Bruce about Sheila, I want a Bruce who is an unconditionally loving and supportive father who offers to take him to where she is, I want him to warn him about the Joker, I want the bomb to go off with Bruce opening the warehouse doors just in time to just look at his Jaylad and he looks back and neither of them can get any closer.

I don't want a Bruce who kills the Jokerbut I want a Bruce who beats him to the point of paralysis.

I want Clark to be forced to leave the country at top speed to stop Bruce, but not to save the Joker, I want it to be to help his crying brother, to stop him from destroying himself with the clown.

I want that whole thing about or whoever wrote Alfred putting a "Good Soldier" plaque on Jason's grave to go to the fucking hell, I want him to have a proper burial, I want Park Row to mourn the death of one of their own who managed to get out of poverty and still come back to help them, I want Crime Alley to mourn the death of their little bird.

I want Tim to take a lot longer to take up the mantle of Robin, I want a Steph who stays with her no-twin even more, I want a Bruce who after talking to Clark and Diana makes everyone go to therapy, I want Ivy to help Harley recover from that bastard clown, I want Bruce to go see how the two are.

I want Talia to see a revived Jason wandering and take him in, I want her to try to start making amends with Bruce by starting by taking care of his lost boy, I want her to start seeing him as hers too, I want Damian and Jason to be brothers, I want Talia to show the state the Joker is in, I want her to show that it took Clark to get Bruce away from the clown's decrepit body, I want her to show how his family scared the city so much that not only the rougues avoided going out at night, I want Talia to take them both back to Bruce.

I want them to cuddle in a pile of love and affection, I want a Talia still being treated to be in that pile too, I want that even with her away most of the time, the kids see her as a mother.

I want Tim to take up the mantle of Robin with Jason's blessing. And I want Steph to finally come out as Batgirl.

I want a young Cass to be noticed as soon as she sets foot in Gotham, I want it to be during one of Talia's visits, I want my couple to take this girl raised to be a weapon and turn her into a real child, I want everyone in the mansion to learn ASL when she prefers to gesture rather than speak most of the time. I want Steph to hand her over to Batgirl with Barbara's blessing and the two of them to go out together on Cass's first patrol with Tim hot on their heels.

And I want Bruce to find out about the "we are Robin" movement, I want Bruce to take this boy who started a gang under his wing.

I want Bruce to see this city and the heroes who disappeared out of nowhere and came back out of nowhere, I want the trinity to invite Marvel to the League, I want Bruce to discover that the Champion of Magic, Fawcette's main hero, an idol to many (and to Clark, who was very disappointed when he found out that Marvel wasn't Kryptonian), is a homeless child. I want Bruce to gain his trust, I want Bruce to give him a family and promise to find this boy's sister.

I want a Bruce who, after the invasion of Starro, sees this little star in his hands and can't resist his children wanting to keep him (and he himself wanted to too-), I want Jarro to be included in things, I WANT HIM TO HAVE THE LOVE HE DESERVES, OKAYY!?!?!?!

I want the current Justice League to be new, I want Bruce to be the first father and I want no one but Diana, Clark and Billy to know... Oh, and Barry too, since Dick would be best friends with Wally from an early age.

I want a Bruce who doesn't kill, but I also want a Bruce who doesn't force his rules and morals down his children's throats, I want a Bruce who understands that his children are individual beings, I want Bruce to understand that his children can and do have different morals and views.

I want Jon and Damian to be raised like Clark and Bruce were.

I want Clark to see this clone that looks about Tim's age and not think twice about bringing him home. I want Kon and Tim to be Bi best friends.

Oh and Kara!! I want Kara and Babs to be a thing, I want them together!!! I want my third lesbian coupleee!!

I want Kate and Selina, Ivy and Harley to be the cool aunts who take the kids out to cause chaos.

I want Bruce to have less of a Brucie or hooker persona and more of a tired dad thing. Dark circles under his eyes? Oh, Dami couldn't sleep. Hurt? Uh, Dick tried to maneuver the chandelier and would have fallen if I hadn't run to catch him! Am I a mess? The kids started an argument!

And I think that's it for now, I hope I put everything that was in my head.

There are designs for the characters in the AU now

Oh, to add, I've never read any DC comics, okay? Not Marvel either, or anything other than Turma da Monica(in english: Monica's Gang)...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[sugar-grigri]

Ok so about Johan why did he exactly kill the fortners?I understand why he left her at the fortners but then why did he come back after 9 years and kills them and hhen he wants to see her? Like what was his plan exactly

The tragedy of being one

This is the tragedy of twins: Johan is obsessed with the idea of being Nina and Nina being him, a single being separated into two entities, but a single being nonetheless.

Shoot me. You are me and I am you.

What Johan wants for Nina is not for her sake, but for her to remain himself. Or more precisely, as her identity has been suppressed by her mother, to be Nina.

Johan isn't angry with Tenma for saving him, but he knows that by saving the monster, Tenma himself has prevented Nina from finding happiness.

You saved my life 9 years ago. Have you already forgotten about the twins?

There's something that I find is often overlooked in the analysis of the beginning, and which will be of vital importance later on. Tenma had to answer a dilemma, save the mayor or save a little boy, but in reality, another silent dilemma arose immediately afterwards, save Johan or save Nina? Because in reality, throughout the work, Tenma is trying to make up for his mistake, not just saving Johan, and therefore killing him as Nina had aspired to do, but also saving Nina whom he had condemned. 

Who was she trying to save ? Me ? Or my sister? Which of us ?

It's clear from the beginning that as long as Johan is close and alive, even in a comatose state, Nina is no more. The little girl in hospital needs to heal, just like her brother. The climax of all this comes when Johan ‘wakes up’ and Nina faints. They can no longer be two, they are condemned to be one. 

It's towards the end that we realise that this dilemma has conditioned the twins' existence: who between Johan and Nina? Tenma will have to answer the question. If he doesn't kill Johan, it's not just because he's afraid to kill, it's because he doesn't know how to answer it.

If Johan had actually been killed by Nina that night, Nina would finally have been happy, because the monster would no longer be there. Above all, death was the only way for Johan to be "happy", because Nina is him, and if she is happy, he would have been happy. But if he lives, he's not cut out for happiness. And because Nina is him, she can't hope for happiness and a loving family.

Johan contacts Nina as Prince Charming on his white horse who will cover Nina with flowers. It sounded weirdly romantic, but in reality the symbolism is something else. In the apocalypse, Death is a white knight. And the flowers only evoke those placed on graves for mourners. Johan wants to cover Nina in flowers. Or lose her loved ones.

Don't tell me you think Prince Charming on his white knight is going to come and get you ?

For Johan, attacking the Fortners was inevitable. The name alone is a problem : Fortner. People who gave Nina a name. A name that she's not supposed to have. Giving herself an identity is what sets Johan apart. And he won't allow it. To return, he has to empty this identity.

It is for this symbolic reason that Nina suffers from amnesia. Obviously because she's traumatised. But also because the more she embraces Nina, the less she is Johan, so the more her memories of him crumble.

That's why, automatically, when Johan kills the Fortners, Nina remembers having killed him. Suddenly faced with death (the white knight) and loneliness (smother with flowers), Nina remembers the existence of her twin, Johan.

I killed him.

Why did Johan wait so long ? I think we still need to answer this from a philosophical point of view. Johan wanted to see Nina again. She is him, he is her, she is the only being that matters. But the Fortners were just in the way.

Are they really on their way when they didn't really know about this meeting? They have in themselves interfered by giving Nina a name. Johan is nevertheless concerned about Nina's happiness because I think he really tried to give her access to a form of healing and peace. He wanted to die so that she could be happy without the monster inside him. Then, when she rejected him in hospital, he let her live without him.

I'd also like to point out that Johan changed his motivation after recovering some of his memories. Which will in fact be Anna's. By reading the story about the nameless monster. Before that, I think Johan's amnesia gave him a kind of block. And he himself was afraid of what he described as a monster. Who was actually Bonaparte visiting them at the Liebert house.

Johan could never trust adults so he didn't trust the Fortners any more.

You'll run away so the monster doesn't catch you.

I think Johan's conclusion was that the only person he could trust was Doctor Tenma. So he left it to him to explore a past that he wanted to keep forgotten. I think he really did entrust Nina to him at the castle. Because Johan was there! He shot the henchman who was going to kidnap Nina. He was there when Nina met Tenma.

Why didn't he show up? Because he realised that Nina wasn't ready. Because she fainted when she saw him. She couldn't see Johan, the reflection of a past she didn't have the key to.

He killed the Fortners on Nina's birthday. A random date set for a nameless orphan with no history. Johan came to give meaning to this birthday. The day of Anna's rebirth.

And Johan's rebirth. Everything he did, he did for himself too. He has no name. Nina had to lose her family, she had to have a name without any substance. What are the Fortners without their parents? There is no longer a Fortner family.

The nameless monster simply ate his escaped second half.

One went east, the other west.

Then the monster who had gone west said to him. We don't need a name. You can be very happy without a name. Because we are the nameless monsters.

The little boy ate the monster from the west.

[queenjunothegreat]

For those of you interested, here's a snippet from the college AU Valgrace slow burn I'm never gonna actually write (๑˘︶˘๑)

“So, you guys are sure you're not related?” Jason asked skeptically. “Because you're, like, weirdly identical.”

“Piper wishes we were identical,” Leo scoffed. “I’m way hotter than she is.”

Jason considered that for less than a moment before nodding. “That's true. But other than that you guys could pass as twins.”

Leo shrugged casually. “I mean, yeah, when we were little we used to—” He cut himself off with a gross sputtering sound as Jason’s word sunk in while Piper wheezed her cackling laughter at his side. “What did you just say?”

Jason blinked wide blue eyes at him in obvious confusion. “What?” Leo didn't respond beyond turning vermillion, but Jason’s phone chose that moment to ring, breaking the tension. He glanced down at the screen and winced before giving Piper and Leo an apologetic look. “Sorry, I've got to take this. I'll be right back.”

“Don’t worry about it dude, we're not going anywhere,” Leo assured him. Jason gave him one of those smiles that made Leo's stomach flutter like hyperactive butterflies, and he stood to step away.

As soon as he was gone, Leo buried his face in his arms with a groan, knowing Piper was going to pounce on him.

Right on cue, he felt her dig the knuckle of her pointer finger between his ribs and when he yelped and scowled at her, she put on a comically pitiful puppy dog pout and tapped the tips of her pointer fingers together. “Ooowwwhh, I dunno, Pipew, what if he doesn't wike me?” she mocked. "We'we jus fwends.”

“Shut up!” he seethed, clapping both of his hands to her mouth. “I hate you I hate you I hate you. Shut up.”

Piper rolled her eyes and licked his palm so he squawked and retreated. “Seriously, though. That guy is, like, overtly flirting with you. You know that, right?”

“You don’t get it; he's just like that,” he said defensively. His cheeks and heart did nothing to support his point. “He's just really earnest and sweet and nice and he just says stuff, okay? You can’t read into it. I'm sure that he would have agreed with you if you'd claimed to be the hotter one.”

“You know, maybe if he hadn't spent the entire conversation making heart-eyes at you, I'd believe you, but weeeeellll…”

Leo buried his face back in his arms. “You’re so annoying. Go away and bother someone who loves you.”

Piper made some obnoxious kissing sounds, but before she could say anything else, Jason returned to his seat. Leo looked up and was met with that warm, gentle gaze. “Sorry about that. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't have let them interrupt us, but it was my dad and he's… insistent.” Then his gaze flicked over to Piper like he'd forgotten that she was there and his eyes widened with realization. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask if you wanted anything. I can go order real quick, if you'd like.”

“Nah, don't worry about it, I'm about to take off anyway,” she smiled at him. “I just wanted to check in and see how my baby brother—”

“Die.”

“—was doing.” She stood up to leave, waving at them over her shoulder. “Bye, Leo! Bye, Jason! Have fun on your date!”

Leo choked so hard his milkshake came out of his nose and he yanked the collar of his jacket up over his head and wished he could dissolve into atoms while Jason fussed over him.

He really hated his sister.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 29. Lemon Blossoms

Summary: Considering the way your entire family ran over him like a pack of wolves, he's starting to believe you might be the most harmless of the lot. Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 1,653 Listen to: 'Slow It Down' -by Benson Boone A/N: Two chapters this week cause I have no self-control -Danny

"Where is Arthur?"

"Most strange thing," says Richard, pretending to be perplexed. "He said he needed to rearrange some affairs in private—I wonder what is troubling him so."

You give him a look but say nothing, struggling to conceal your amusement. "I see. And have you met Eloise?"

"Lovely girl. Where is Mr Bridgerton?"

"He's gone to remove some layers, the poor man was sweating all over." You lean closer and pull Rowan into the conversation. "Who put you up to this?"

Rowan swallows the doughnut he'd been devouring and scowls at you. "Up to what?"

"Was it Marie?" You press. "I doubt Paula would've considered you capable of—"

"Dear sister, it was evident you and Mr Bridgerton had unfinished business," Rowan replies grumpily. "And Arthur is planning to make his intentions clear this summer, so why are you complaining?"

"I don't know what to do to get rid of him," you say in exasperation. "One shag six years ago and the man thinks we're betrothed! But that doesn't mean I want Benedict involved in this!"

Richard grins. "Arthur's too bookish to understand human nature. He decided many years ago that you would be his lady."

"Use Benedict," Rowan insists. "He's your friend, is he not? And as a painter, he could take advantage of being introduced to potential clients in our nobility."

"Which reminds me," you look around the ballroom. "Have you noticed we don't have any renowned people of the arts?"

Richard smiles. "You'll dedicate yourself to the arts? Should've known, what with your infatuation with the painter..."

You discreetly kick his shin. "With you two focused on chemistry and biology and Marie hoarding our equality agenda along with Mother, I have to find my own unique touch to the Genovian crown, don't I?"

"Dad gave up on botany and went back to zoology last month," Rowan says. "You could be our botanist?"

You smirk, remembering when you lied to Ben to keep your identity a secret. "I've been told weeds indeed love me."

Benedict walks back into the ballroom wearing a linen shirt and brown cotton trousers, the fake sword hanging on his belt, and the high boots the only remaining pieces of his knight costume. He's looking for Eloise when an older man stops in front of him: he's face to face with King consort Nicholas.

Benedict stands there like a deer, and then, to his shock, the older man bursts into laughter. Before he can even process the reaction, he gets pulled and guided further into the room. "Mr Bridgerton! Did my daughter invite you?"

"No, your highness," he stumbles over his own feet, "it was the princes."

"The twins! I didn't know you were friends. How wonderful! I was beginning to worry that those two had no attachments to the real world besides their specimens! Mr Bridgerton—may I call you Benedict? The thing is, Y/N told us so much about you that I feel like I know you."

King Nicholas tightens his grip on Benedict's shoulder, his clear blue eyes turn slightly menacing. "Such a well-intentioned, educated young man... Does she know you're here?"

"Yes, your highness," Benedict replies tersely. "I spoke to her in the gardens."

"Where is she now?"

"With her brothers," he responds, happy to spot her at the opposite corner and not near enough to give her father the wrong idea. "I had to change my clothes, they were too suffocating for the occasion." Although he's choking on air right now all the same.

"I won't repeat myself, young Benedict," the King speaks, keeping a smile on his face but a vice grip on his shoulder. "My daughter won't let it slide, but believe me, if you harm her, she won't be the only one to make you regret it."

Benedict maintains eye contact as if King Nicholas is pointing a gun at his head. "I understand, Your Highness."

"Good!" The man nudges him forward amicably, no trace of hostility in his manner as they go. "Let's return you to my daughter."

"Why didn't you tell Benedict that Arthur isn't your intended?"

"Because his manner of asking vexed me. What does he care?"

"You know he's here for you!"

"For all I know, he might be running from something, nothing assures me he's been on his best behaviour in London."

"Well, be as it may, he has perfect timing," Paula continues. "The new rumour says that Arthur will try to make his intentions clear during the dinner send-off. That is three days from now, and you still have to attend the charity concert and your aunt Lily's—"

"So you suggest I use Benedict as a shield?"

"He used you to escape that young lady last season!" Paula huffs. "He does this and you're even!"

"Even!" You exclaim. "What are we even playing? I'm in love with him, and he's— back!" You squeak, spotting him on your right with your father beside him.

"My dear, your brothers planned to surprise you with his arrival, I heard." Your father speaks swiftly, apparently having not listened to what you were saying just now. "His sister is also in attendance?"

"She's with Marie and Mother," you gesture towards the platform placed as the centrepiece of the event.

"Have you paid your respects to our Queen, Mr Bridgerton?"

Benedict blushes, but you speak before he can. "We distracted him, Father, he was caught up in a royal windwhirl."

"I have no doubt," the man smiles. "Come forth, then!" You follow them anxiously, Paula catching up to your pace. "My heart!" King Nicholas raises his voice. "Look who I found snooping around our flower vases searching for inspiration!"

Queen Amelia smiles. "Mr Bridgerton! You shouldn't leave your sister alone with strangers."

"Princess Marie is far from a stranger, Your Highness, so is the rest of your family," he bows, trying to summon a smile, though his nerves are so frayed he wouldn't be surprised if it looks like a wince.

"He's going to be my guest of honour, mother," you blurt out before you lose your courage. "At the concert and Aunt Lily's dinner. We're celebrating the bright minds of our nation, and Ben—I mean, Mr Bridgerton, is just as bright. It's good to introduce new faces at events where everyone already knows each other, so we motivate them to keep coming. He'll be quite popular."

Last time, Queen Mia hadn't paid much attention to the man who was to teach her eldest daughter. Now, as she looks at his handsome face and bright green eyes, she pauses. She looks at him, at Nicholas, and then at Y/N. "What about Lord Dickens? Wasn't he your companion this summer?"

"Not this time," you state. "We could both use the distance to... broaden our horizons."

Your mother raises a brow. She looks at Nicholas, his bemused smirk telling her all she needs to know. "I see."

King Nicholas clears his throat. "Mr Bridgerton, are you and your sister staying with relations?"

"They stay at the Lemon Blossoms Inn," Marie responds for them.

"Wonderful! I know the innkeeper, it'll be easy to get your luggage moved by noon tomorrow."

"Moved?" Benedict asks in concern.

"You think we'll let you stay at an Inn when you're a family friend?" Your father laughs. "No, you'll get a room by the twins' wing, and Eloise will be with the girls. We have plenty of space, as you'll see once we take you to the castle."

Eloise frowns. "This isn't the castle?"

"This? No! This state is the guest house! All year we receive ambassadors, science folk, and all kinds of honourable guests, so they stay here and we look after them—they don't sacrifice comfort in order to get privacy, and you will be no exception."

"Your highness, I assure you the Inn is comfortable enough—"

"Mr Bridgerton, accept our offer," Queen Mia presses. "Eloise has been invited to tomorrow's activities at the castle, and it'll be much easier if you stay with us, think of your sister."

Benedict clenches his jaw before relenting, showing a grateful yet stiff smile. "Thank you."

"Tonight we must return to the Inn," Eloise says, wanting to give his brother a victory, knowing he's likely to collapse otherwise. "I'm afraid my comfort demands it. I left my, uhm, special pillow there."

Marie laughs. "Oh, that is quite understandable. Y/N doesn't go anywhere without her bear—"

"That's all settled then," you interrupt quickly. "Mr Bridgerton, I owe you a dance."

He doesn't fight you this time. Considering the way your entire family ran over him like a pack of wolves, he's starting to believe you might be the most harmless of the lot. "I'll be honoured, your highness."

You take a spot amongst the dancing couples and apologise simultaneously. Both of you look at each other, realise it's absurd, and laugh. You speak again. "You know, I'm tired of overthinking every little thing I do around others."

Benedict smiles and lightly squeezes your hand. "Me too."

"What if we make a promise to be unapologetically ourselves around one another? This isn't London, so you can be as genuine as you want."

He decides to start right that second. "I thought about writing to you every week. The truth is... I don't want us to stop being friends. It makes me happy, and I don't know why that is frightening me."

"Because you overthink," you reply wisely. "Your Queen once told me that the reason why I'm so clumsy is because my body can't listen when my mind is saying more than one thing at a time, and that the only way to overcome it is by practising."

Benedict's smile gets wider the more he speaks to you. "Practising what, exactly?"

"In your case, I suppose speaking your mind," you squeeze his hand, too. "With time, it'll be less scary, until one day you'll be completely used to it."

"Has it worked for you? Being out and about at social events?"

"It's worked wonders! Today, my only misfortune was when Lord Dickens cornered me—" You interrupt your rambling, but it's too late, Benedict's expression grows mischievous.

"That's no way to talk about your intended," he says, "unless... he's not." You part your lips, search for a proper excuse, but again, it's too late. "Don't bother," he concludes, grinning cheekily.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

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[undermine-the-instinct]

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 (Then I Intend)

Sesshoumaru x Reader {PART 1 OF Part III} Next part

Read on A03...

Masterlist.../ Previous.../ Part 2...

Summary: The Lord Daiyokai often shuts you up in an inn, every few days of the month, for the demons that are attracted to your bloodscent. It is one of the few graces he allows. You would think its for your safety, and truly it is. Because not only do you seem to forget that he is a demon, but also a man.

Rumors of a bloodhungry demon arise, one that prowls the edges of this ghost town, devouring its residents under the shroud of moonless nights; Of which steadily approaches. Under the dark viel of a new moon, all desires will be brought to light.

Content warnings: Intimidation tactics-Sessh gets pretty scary and domineering with some people in this chapter- a bold line like this will mark where this happens if you wanna skip.

A/N: Tumblr wouldnt allow me to post this in one piece, so part 2 to this particular chapter will be llinked. Also, Its been a while since I wrote, so when I was writing the reader, most people refer to them with mostly 'they' and some 'she/her' pronouns.

Length: 11K

Listen, plato of ancient greece wrote that the souls we each have now are only halves. That in a frenzy of blood, zues severed us from each other, so we rely in the blind tugging of our hearts.

He wakes up hours later, in the dead of night, with the wind blowing and the cicadas screaming.

There is a storm brewing. He can smell it.

The twins, Toyotamahime sleeps to his right and Tamayorihime to his left, breath soft and even, faces peaceful and identical. He hears his father, the stilted, uneven but deep breaths, and when he rises, head ringing, he sees his youngest sister, Ohatsuhime beside him. There is one missing.

He struggles up, ignoring the pain of his missing fingers, his ear. He tries to be quiet, but he stumbles into a wall, biting his tongue at the cry of pain. No one wakes, so he goes on.

Kushinadahime sits at a table, with tea ready, and mochi. She doesn't acknowledge him with more than a wave over to the table. He stumbles over, and sits.

“I knew you would be up at this time. You're always tense this close to the new moon.”

“Yes, well, what if a demon comes inside?”

If she were any less put together she’d roll her eyes. “You sound like Father. That's only happened once in a case of extremely bad luck, Takashi-kun.”

“That's how mother died.” Chased through these halls until a child with a ronin’s sword tried to play hero. 

He wasn't alone then. But he wasn't able to do much– his mother still died. The sword leans against the door leading outside, touched by age and use.

“...Mother led him outside the house, she protected us.”

“She still died.”

“She drowned. And the demon is dead now, drowned with her–”

“Just replaced–”

“And he is not as bold as the former. We’re all alive, aren't we? Now, drink your tea.” Takashi glares, and she sighs.

“I know, Takashi-kun, I was there and I'm old enough to remember what happened. But if a demon comes, If this demon decides to finish the job, there isn't much you can do now with a missing ear and finger on each hand.”

Takashi scowls harsher as he takes the mochi. It's fresh, as it always is, of course. A rice farmer should have something to show the bounty of his harvest.

Rice cakes, mochi, sake, they had it all. And while others didn't bother to put in the work, Takashi-s sisters labored to remove the bran from the rice, so they often dined on white rice like elite nobles.

“You don't need to worry, these will grow back soon enough,” he teases through a mouthful. She breaths a laugh. This too is quiet.

“If only! Tell Masaki-san your secret, I'm sure she’d enjoy having her left foot again.”

“Really? I’m not so sure, if she’d have to go back to working in the fields then.” They both go quiet again, and she urges the cup of tea towards him.

“With the storm, we have to make sure to work quickly.”

“We’ll do that tomorrow.”

“You will rest. We have enough people, and you need to heal.”

“I heal fast. Remember how I got my sword?”

“It isn't a wandering ronin this time Takashi-kun, it’s a high ranking demon. The Lord of the Western Lands. You’re lucky to even still be alive.”

“’Lucky?’”

Her shoulders curve inward at the tone of his voice.

But she sighs, sets her cup down. “Brother don’t-”

“Kushinada–”

Her voice rises, suddenly. “You attacked his servant! You know how territorial demons can be, for Kami’s sake Takashi you know–”

“His servant’? His bitch more like. There's only one way they could have inspired such dutiul care.”

Her face reddens, and she hides her hands in her sleeves.

“You speak so uncouthly. Nevertheless, you still insulted his pride by proxy. Just…stay low for now, heal.”

He rises. “I'm going outside.”

“For what?!” She whisper-screams, planting her hands on the table. “It's dangerous!”

“Exactly why I'm taking patrol. Isn't it almost time for you and the twins?” Her eyes narrow.

“You should be making preparations to leave.”

“We already have, we’ll be leaving tomorrow. We’ll be gone for five days. And no, there's no need to escort us this time.”

He frowns. “The blood attracts demons. It's dangerous for you all.”

“So imagine how much more dangerous it would be with an injured person on our hands.”

“I can still protect you all.”

“And we can protect ourselves. The twins need to learn how to get there on their own. They know the way, they just never gone by themselves.”

“No. As long as I'm here you won't go yourselves.”

She frowns. “You coddle them.”

He grins. “In the way you hardly allow me to for you. Ohatsuhime is the worst one though-just wait until she joins you.” He inclines his head towards the door, where the rest of the family sleeps, but his sister is quick to snap. “Don't jinx her. She won't be joining us, you know that. Ohatsuhime, she's the youngest. She's too young.”

There is a chill in the air that he sees her shiver by.  “...She is sixteen. You know she won't be young forever. It's a miracle she’s lasted this long.”

“No. But we still have time to worry about that. Maybe, maybe it will be different for her.” She turns away, and shadows hide her face from view, expression indistinguishable in the lily-seed dark. 

“Maybe…maybe she’s just late, is all…I don't mind her being a child for very much longer.” 

Takashi sighs. His head throbs. “Sorry…Sister, I do not mean to speak on these…feminine issues. It's not my place as a man. And you're right- I don't know what I was thinking, of course she is too young. Just go back to sleep, and please do not wait for me. And no–” he cuts her off, “You can’t convince me to stay.”

She frowns, lowers herself back down. “You could at least drink your tea.”

“You probably drugged it for me to fall asleep.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“Not–”

“You did,” he grins. “You’ve been using your apprenticeship with the apothecary for dubious reasons. Dont think I don't know what kinds of orders you've been taking out behind her back,” he teases. ”The women in town aren't very quiet about where they get their products from. I suspect the population will rise by a few numbers in the next few years, if you catch what I’m-”  Kushinadahime snatches his teacup on the table and takes a long drink of it–she holds it out to him.

“There. You know I wouldn't do that to you Takashi-kun. So drink.”

Instead, he goes forward, and takes her half cup, drains it in a single swallow.

“Don't follow me.”

He takes the sword leaning against the door in his mangled hand, and pitches around the cabin. When he finds nothing, he goes further, extending the patrol. The night is humming and teeming and calm. He walks, stumbles in the direction of the bamboo grove.

It's small, something his mother insisted on before the twins were born. It's far from the paddies, to ensure that the pests there don't eat away here. His father planted the stalks, hand dug the little pond and placed a few koi fish there, back when there was still silver circulating in this backwater town and they had their share. Besides then, his father never stepped foot in here, at his mother’s behest. Her alone time. Sometimes…sometimes she would bring one or more of her children here. Never all of them at the same time. But still only sometimes.

{In the days after his mother’s death, still ragged and raw from grief, Takashi would wake, surrounded by his infant sisters, father gone. He would wait until the sun just rose, safe and secure in the pale glow, to rise and look for him. Kushinadahime would rise too, to start cooking breakfast, and check on the babes. Takashi would always find the man, kneeling just in front of the grove, staring within. It looked like he was waiting.

If he took his hand and led him within, could he muster up the courage to tell him the truth?

“Father..I’m…Mother didn't want–”

…He’s not a child anymore.}

He takes his position, deep within the stalks, and raises his sword.

It's the sword of a dead man, a ronin killed when he had stopped by this town, when Takashi was a child. The demon killed him. It's his now. It's hard to hold, his grip shakes from pain, his remaining ear ringing. He can barely stand straight; he has to stop himself from leaning too far on the side of his missing ear.

If only it could grow back. Like a piece of liver, like scraped skin, like scales, like blood. But even that takes time. Time he doesn't have. That he can ill afford to waste.

He needs to get out of here. He needs to learn and train and grow and earn enough money and prestige to get out of here, get his family out of here. Work. Rise the rankings. Become a samurai, or a daimyo even.

Being the son of a rice farmer could mean stability, but he wants more than that. His sisters should be bathing in milk with pearls in their hair. Samurai and Lords should be clamoring for their hands in marriage. He should be wed already to some lovely, demure, dutiful thing. It's not his place. It's not fair.

What did you ever do to earn your place, your privilege? Despite what he told his sister, it has to be more than that. You are very pretty, beautiful enough. But pretty charms aren't enough to earn you a spot besides one of the greatest demon Lords of the past few centuries. 

Was he going to train that child as well? Even though she was just a runty little git? Did he not prove more capable than those two? What did you two have that he doesn't?!

It's not fair.

It never has been. So he pushes through and continues his sets. When the blood of his hands makes the blade too slick to hold, he wraps his hands in cloth and carries on.

Stars are slowly fading in the lightening sky, and the sky is brightening. He’s not alone.

He doesn't stop but he notices. The wind still blows, but neither that nor the blood pounding in his ears is enough to deafen the crickets and birds and bugs, who’ve gone silent. Something is here.

He’s being watched.

He knows it.

But he pretends he doesn't. There are the slightest imprints of sounds, and Takashi stumbles in his pain, leaning against the stalk of a bamboo. 

Hush.

He tries to breathe. “You know, it's not very good to stare. A bad habit of yours?”

Silence.

The grove goes silent, and in one spine tingling, breath stopping moment, he feels his heart drop.

He turns to take stance–

He doesn't see what gets him. The world flashes white–sharp and keen, laced with pain. It bleeds red, and fades to black.

__________

You wake up with a fever.

Tendrils of a dream cling to you. A voice calling out. Dark tunnels and the smell of sulfur. Somehow, you know not to strike a fire for light.

There is something else in the darkness with you. It slumbers, and you cannot wake it. You must be q u i e t , heartbeat rabbit quick.

There is a man with scales, and pale hair looking for you. You must stay low.

When you wake, it is with a shock, a jolt, a sound caught in your throat. You are fevered- Hot, and raging. Sweat makes your skin clammy, and your body is sore in odd places.

You drag yourself back into consciousness; Sesshoumaru is not here with you.

You are not content to wait, but you do. You wait and you wait, but he does not return. So you get up.

The floors are cool under your feet, as you make your way to the kitchen. It's dark, and clean, Numachi-san must have finished cleaning hours ago.

She’s very hardworking. She does everything here-the cooking, the cleaning, attending to you all. She’s not elderly, but she is an older woman. It must be hard for her.

Maybe there could be something you can do for her, instead of just the odd chore or so. Maybe you could ask Sesshoumaru to let her kids stay here, since you know he'd already be opposed to that idea.

Water slips down your throat, cool. You want a snack but you don't want to go digging in someone else's pantry, that's just rude. So you turn and–

You nearly throw yourself back. Sesshoumaru, your Lord, stands. But his pupils are tiny and sharp, and his jaw is tight. His hand is half out, reaching.

You stay, staring off while your heart tries to settle.

“...”

“...”

“...My Lord, again, you–”

“Why are you not resting?”

“Um,” You look about, set your cup down. He's still stuck in that half motion, reaching for you. “I was thirsty. I woke up and you weren't there?”

“I had business.”

“...Uh huh.” You're not buying it, and the movement of his eyes is unnerving. They follow your every move, from the way you are fidgeting to your blinking. 

What the hell. He finishes his motion, takes you by the wrist, when–

“Ow!?” A shock, jars your wrist out of his hold. It stings, sharper and stronger than an odd static jolt.

Sesshoumaru looks at you, as if to ask, what was that?

“Just, some static I guess,” You shake out your wrist. There's no burn, or sparks, but the sting feels fresh. “It's…normal?” He looks at you again, taking your wrist more gingerly this time. There's another shock! But it's weaker, so you just flinch before he tugs you along, back through the dark corridors and to his room. 

You pass by the room you share [shared] with Rin, and see her curled up in extra blankets, only the dark of her hair visibly against the sheets. You feel a soft pang of guilt and stop in your tracks to hear her soft snoring. Sesshoumaru stops with you, but after a moment you nod at him, and he shuts the door, and leads you back to his room.

He tucks you in the futon, pressing the blanket under you, like a swaddle. When you try to protest, he presses the palm of his hand to your collarbone, against the mark he left there. You hear the unspoken words, and you listen.

He undresses, down to the simple outer robe, and, unlike before he doesn't sit beside you to watch you sleep, he lays his weight on top of you and your breath leaves in a huff at the sudden weight.

“Is everything really alright?” you squeak.

It's a moment before he speaks, and it's gruff. “You have a fever. Symptoms of preheat.”

“I do feel hot…”

“What else?”

“I don't know, the usual…? I feel sore, though. And hungry.”

“It's too late to eat. It's not good for digestion.”

“It's just a craving.”

“Anything in particular?”

“I want fruit.”

“I will get it for you then.”

“Aw, you’re willing to indulge me?” You tease.

In answer, he pulls his ear from your breast, enough so that he could bury his face in the juncture between shoulder and neck. He licks a slow stripe there, hot then cold.

You try not to shiver. Words come to mind and you hope he can hear them over the thrum of your blood:

“Watching the moon at dawn, solitary, mid-sky, I knew myself completely, no part left out.”

He lets loose a long breath; exhaustion, or release?

“Dawn and dusk Is the time I see My darling: Yet seeing her is as if I’ve seen her not...”

‘...How much I do love her.’ You hold him a little closer to that strange flutter in your chest.

“...You're much more romantic than I thought you'd be.”

“I have my manners. You are more dense–clueless, than you have any right to be.”

“What.” A low rumble in his throat reverberates through his chest, through you. Your belly warms.

“So you like me then, don't you?”

“...I more than like, you simpleton.”

“Call me names but I know that you like me~.” You reach to slip your fingers through his hair, scratching. He smells like clear water, silk, a rich scent that's distinctively him. He tenses, but his rumble takes on a deeper pitch, then goes softer and what a marvel that is? You melt deeper into the sheets, him, into you.

“I like this.”

“Silence.”

“And I think you do too. If you're being this obvious you must be down bad–and have been for quite some time, am I right?” You laugh. “I'm so glad you’ve finally succumbed to my charms.”

“Go to sleep, or I will leave.”

“You won't.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“You just said that that was business,” you pout. “Did you lie to me?”

“...I did not.”

“You did.”

“Not. I do not lie.”

“That is a lie in and of itself–” He sits up, looms over you. His brow is stern, but you know he isn't upset. The seam of his mouth is too soft for that.

His hair falls around you, a silk curtain. “Go. To sleep.”

“...On one condition.”

“None.”

“Just one! Just one, please? Pretty pretty please?” 

“...” You bat your lashes and he frowns deeper.

“...What is it?” Oh wow, you actually got him. You grin. “Come here. I want a kiss.” And for all his stoic cold demeanor, you see the gleam alight in his eyes before he swoops down swift, to press his mouth to yours.

He's gentler than you'd think he'd be, with all his strength and eagerness. You should remember that. You should remember to not test him too far, even though you want to. Even though you imagine him pressing you into the sheets, smoothing his hands past the barriers of cloth to find where you're aching, hot and slick. You want him to kiss you harder.

That's why he's the one who pulls back first, laying back on top of you.

“There. I fulfilled your request. Fulfill mine. Rest. You need it.”

The warmth on your belly spreads, a migration of butterfly wings, your heart and your throat. 

“...If you so insist, my Lord.” With his weight a comfort, it isn't long before you fall back into a dark slumber, with no dreams.

__________

He has to keep swallowing back the drool that pools in his mouth.

Like this, buried in softness, your scent coats him, like he’s cavity deep in a cadaver; it sticks to his cheeks, smears across his mouth and chin and fingers and clogs his nose. A spark, short and sharp, prickles his skin, but it's harmless. He breathes through his mouth, tasting honey in the back of his throat, practically panting. He could get drunk on your scent, gods above and below be damned.

Damn you. Damn you and your eyes and hands every temptation and vice he can afford to indulge. A single glance from you, like looking through warbled glass, reflects every desire for you he’s ever had.

He sighs, sinking deeper in your warmth; He blinks back the slow haze your preheat brings. Hells, he feels like a glutton. It will only get worse when you're in proper heat.

It never lasts. A day or so almost. You're dizzy those days, scatterbrained. Doe-eyed. Atleast, that's what he can tell from the few moments he caught you in heat- he’s never been this close before. He  feels…Anticipatory. Eager. Possessive.

Another prick of static crawls over his skin with a hitch of your breath, and a noise, deep in his throat, comes out low and even as he buried his face in your belly.

Clothes, robes, sheets- He can smell you through them. Honey, him, the syrupy dampness left to cool between your thighs.  A part of him is angered at the thought-but there will be time to satisfy the both of you.

Sesshoumaru is not one to curb his desires–direct them, temper them,  indulge when demonic fancy tends. Discipline is a practice he’s only recently mastered. And only nearly. 

When It comes to you, it feels less like a discipline and more like a surveying, stalking. His desire has not been hinged, but cultivated. He will reap what he has sowed. 

It's only natural. You are his, and you are in need–should he not provide? 

The things you are not aware you need, protection from the dangers that have yet to present themselves. 

Sesshoumaru’s ire, his wrath, is the tension of a lightning strike, building, building–then a strike too swift to fathom, smoke and soot and ozone in the air.

So, you rest, lovely thing you are, and he rises, slips from your arms. He stalks out the room.

__________

Ayumi has not met many demons.

Ayumi has not met many demons, but the ones she has met she has spent much time with, so she would like to say that she is rather sensitive to certain…circumstances, or incidents, one could say. Encounters. Moments. Situations. 

She feels the ripple of chills down her spine, the added, silent presence in her room, and struggles to keep her breathing even and under control.

He already knows she is awake, her heartbeat probably gave it away. So she sits up, and goes to sit on her knees. She lowers herself in a perfect bow, but pushes up slightly, so that she could lift her eyes, her head still lowered.

Lord Sesshoumaru is a rather beautiful demon, but there appears nothing beautiful now. His eyes are pin pricked golden marbles, elongated fangs and claws, and a deep violet slashes something vicious across his face. He moves his jaw, side to side, human features ill fitted for the demon pressing outwards.

“...” She takes a moment to ensure her voice won't falter. “My…My lord, what might I do for you, at this late hour?” 

A second of lightning bolt terror–he is a man after all. She thought that the two of you were…but apparently not? But the anger on his face doesn't speak to the kind of violence one might expect.

He, too, takes a minute to speak. It is dark and rumbling when he does. “Your sons…. Twins. Hanyo’s?“ Her heart skips–sinks, a rock on water.

He leans down. “You must have been married to the previous demon of this town.”

‘Previous demon’…So he knows this one is not the one from before? Have they met?

“...The previous demon, yes–no. No, we were not…married. I had my sons out of wedlock.” He tilts his head, a twitch to his ear.

He moves forth, quickly, and before she could contemplate or process or think of what she is to do, he drags her up by the loose collar of her kimono. She holds his wrist, flesh like steel, to keep herself upright and not dangling, he maneuvers her in such a way that he has view to the pale skin beneath her collar. The patches she put there.

“You are hiding your presentation.”

“After my husband's passing, for…safety-!” He lifts her high–lets her go and catches her by the throat, to hold her better. She chokes, toes dangling above her futon.

“Of course, even at your age, even with children…I imagine you would still attract.”

He’s silent for a moment, and for a moment, he darkens. Ayumi thinks he is going to kill her, just because. He is going to snap her neck, just because. Demons have done more for less. Her lover has done more, for less. But he just makes an annoyed sound, drops her unceremoniously.

“Yes, I know of your presentation,” he says. “But what of your sons? The ones that are to be coming here, here. An Alpha and a beta, a fact I was not made aware of?” She doesn't dare lift her head to match his eyes, she has some self preservation. “Tell me about that, would you?”

“I…I had informed your vassal of their arrival and I had just assumed-”

“‘Assumed?’ That, what? I would allow it? Did you tell them the full truth? Or omit some details? Or, did you hold the hope perhaps that one of your sons could come to claim a bride?” And here his lip curls in a snarl, a sneer, teeth white and sharp like little knives.

”Which one? My vassal or the child?” 

“No!” She shakes her head, loose hair spilling down her shoulders.

“My sons would not…I wouldn't, they would never…I…”

“Do not waste my patience, woman. I have little to give.” Of course, of course. Her breath is shallow and quick, Ayumi has the sense to know that she is slowly panicking. The coldness of his words, the murderous drag of his eyes could not be mistaken. 

This isn't a demon to lash out in anger, no. This one needs reason, and he is calculated. That means his cruelty is calculated too.

But so too, should his mercy.

Ayumi prostrates herself. “My sons…One an Alpha, the other beta. The oldest was to be his father’s heir but he is…against the idea.

“My sons will be coming to town today, or tomorrow, but they will not be here, I swear! They hardly ever stay at the inn-”

“Where?”

“...The town, the other residents usually offer, so I do not know whose home they would–”

“Where.”

“...Taiga-san, the rice farmer, intends to house them for this visit.” And there, the death knell begins to toll. “They are on the other end of town.”

“The same rice paddies you sent my vassal to?” She tries not to flinch, but she does.

“The same house with that insolent boy… You saw what happened to him.”

“My sons will not be coming here. I’ll ensure it. And, anyways my sons… are much better mannered.”  A hint of pride, petty and spiteful. She slides her hands out from her forehead, arms laid flat and hands open, palm up.

“They will know to honor and defer to you as soon as they sense your presence in the village. They are smart boys. If you call for them they will come. If you do not wish to see them, they will not make themselves known to you.” 

“And if I want their heads?”

“...Then I will bargain for their lives.”

Again, he scoffs. But as he crouches down, the wood doesn't creak. “And what do you have to offer me?”

“...Whatever it is you can take.” She hesitates, but she reaches and pulls off the bandages on her neck. She can only smell the sharp tincture of herbal ointment. She can't smell it, her scent, but she can imagine he can.

Winter wind, salt, chestnut. A refreshing scent, her lover once told her.

All she could smell in the aftermath was the blood in the air. The old, darkened spark is just another ugly reminder.

“It was my negligence and ineptitude that I failed to inform you. I should have told you immediately,” she clasps her hands. “I am sorry my Lord, I am so sorry. Please forgive me-”

“Do you think I want you?” She doesn't respond, but he goes on. “Because you are an omega? Do you think that all demons are so tasteless?” 

Again, she doesn't respond, but he reaches out and grabs her face, lifts it so that she is looking at him. “Answer me.”

“No, no, you do not, but you could. No, you are not uncouth.”

“So because I could, you then make me the offer? Why? Do you think I will kill you? Your sons? They must take after you,” He says, shaking her face, and Ayumi almost bursts into tears, ripping her eyes away. Yes, yes, I do think so! You make it so obvious you will. You're all the same.

“I told you to look at me,” she whimpers, but does as he says.

When she looks, his head is tilted at an arrogant angle, and he scowls at her tears. “I will not sully my blade with your blood. I have not fallen so far as to spill omega blood.” He lets her go, but before she could sob in relief, he leans in, smooth and agile like the predator he is, so that his eyes are level with hers, his breath cold like a winter sea breeze.

“But you will give me what I desire. Speak.”

Something in her head goes silent, and while she still shivers, her voice comes out calm. Her vision sharpens, almost. She recognizes this-if she gets too caught up in the feeling, she’ll faint. She speaks.

“My father had driven me out after I had given birth, because I had…coupled with a demon. He then took me-us, here,” the words spill. “The owners of this inn were old, and he killed them, as well as the Daimyo and his samurai who stayed here. Then we came here.” The upper rooms have remained quiet and full of dust for over a decade, now. Ever since her sons left and they stopped playing with all the ghosts up there. Sometimes, she would swear she can hear noise up there. She’d go to check, but more often than not, there were only the ghosts of the past. 

“Why were they here?”

“F-For taxes. They were…leveraging taxes.”

“...And he killed them.”

She wasn't there for the slaughter. A small mercy, perhaps. “People were starving then, so they were thankful, and started leaving offerings in the forest. My lover had a human disguise, but people still assumed…so they treated us well. The people of this town believe that my sons took over the role of their father, when he passed.”

“How did they know your ‘husband’ had passed? He fought another demon and lost, devoured. Even if there was a body or remains, he would have reverted to his demonic form when he died, so you couldn't have held a funeral,” his voice, mocking.

Ayumi blinks, slow. Shingetsu must have told him. “...Yes, there was a great fire that broke out in the midst of a storm, years ago. During it, people saw–him fighting the other demon.”

“A white naga?” So they did meet.

“...No one died, for weeks after. Vagabonds and gangs started pilfering through here, again. We knew there was another demon when people started going missing again. Or we found remains.”

“Then?”

“Life went on. My husband had killed anyone who came for the rumors, the glory of killing a prominent demon. When they dwindled, he ate the residents. 

“But this new demon took mostly the wandering ronin, or whoever came through. They took people, but not as often as my husband did. Never those too young either. People here called it a kindness,” And the vitriol that comes out with the word shocks her. She covers her mouth as he speaks.

“So your husband killed whomever, and whenever, and then, a demon, who is not one of your sons, came and killed him to take his place. And this demon kills more sparingly, so the people here pool their pitiful offerings as thanks.”

And maybe it's the blood pounding in her ears, or the way his hair almost reflects the moonlight, familiar, but she opens her mouth and says, “No. No, I killed my husband.”

He raises an eyebrow, and draws back into her space. Panic rises in her throat again, a trapped bird. “Oh? You killed him?” 

“I…had poisoned him, before he fought the demon.”

“How? Why. Did you know this new demon would fight your husband?”

“I had a feeling…he was going to leave me. Us.” Her nails dig into her palm to quell the sudden heat in her eyes. “I didn't know the demon would attack. But I knew he would die that night.”

And he laughs, at her, just once, a breath, and that felt more derogatory than anything he had done so far in this night. Her face burns with unshed tears and shame, anger. She swallows it all, a burning in her belly.

“You killed your lover. “

“Yes.”

“Is that why your sons have left you? Their scents have long faded from the wood of this place, you know. It better stay that way. “ She nods, frantically.

“O-of course-”

“I won't kill you, you lucky thing. The same courtesy does not apply to your children. Your negligence in informing me of them has ensured this. Perhaps if you had been forthright, I could have lent some leniency…The chance is lost now.” He lets her go and rises, and Ayumi realizes she holds no breath.

“...I should rid myself of you, set your building ablaze. But we can ill afford to leave. There will be a storm soon.”

“Then why don't you leave now to beat it, and save us both some misery.” She blinks, then realizes the fear has numbed over her skin like rain in winter. She is disconnected from her body and her tongue is loose.

She moves, to try and salvage her life. “You, you obviously want to leave, and, well, well the darkness of the new moon will last two nights. Why not leave now while you still have the slightest light?”

“...They are all resting. Why should I disturb it and give myself unnecessary grief?”

Does he care…? No, no, he's a demon, why would he?

“...Your vassal does not have a mating mark.” She’s noticed the unmarked swathe of your flesh, and envied you horribly for it. At the same time, she pitied you—and the child. Rin.

She looks neither like yourself or the Lord, and Ayumi could guess her situation no better than she could yours. She looked happy–but most children are easily pleased. She is a child, but she would grow to be a woman, eventually. She dreads who she’ll grow in to be under the tutelage of you both. Someone should save her.

“I’ve noticed their symptoms, and their lack of notice. Is this their first fever?”

He pauses. “This will pass, as it always has before.”

So it was not. He did not answer her observation on your lack of notice….so perhaps you did not know. If you did…would you stay? Did you even have a choice?

Ayumi remembers those hazy days of fever. She did not enjoy the symptoms, rather, the alleviation of them, even if her skin crawled throughout. 

Before she could follow that stream of thought the demon turns on his heel, his long hair moving with him.

“Continue to serve as you have. We will leave once the worst of this storm is over, and perhaps you and your sons could remain with your lives.” His eyes flash. “Heed my words. I will not repeat them.”

Ayumi bows, head to the floor. When she rises, he’s gone.

Ayumi takes a moment–to breathe. She looks around the still little room, and clutches her loose collar close to her throat.

She breathes–Once, twice, thrice. Then she weeps.

__________

You dream of a memory.

It was before Rin joined. You’d settled deep into your situation, having spent the past few months already with your new companions, and a few more in this era in whole. It wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. At least you can semi make a fire now.

A fire that was now slowly dying. The embers crawled across the logs like fire ants, but you were mesmerized by what lay above. The sky, that is.

You never had seen anything quite this beautiful before. You dont think you’ll ever find anything better. You don’t gape, open mouthed anymore, but your eyes are wide and ravenous, drinking it all in. Your mouth curls in a smile.

“Go to sleep.” You jolt, but it's just the Lord. His arms are crossed and his eyes closed, he speaks low.

“Enough stargazing. Rest.”

“But it’s all so lovely.”

“We leave at dawn. I will not hear your complaints.” You laugh under your breath.

“Don’t worry, I won't!”

“Lies.” You laugh again, louder, and Jaken snorts in his sleep. A-un peels open an eye to look at you, before he too returns to rest.

It's quiet for a few moments before he speaks again.

“They are the same stars as always. They will not disappear if you stop looking.”

Mirth colors your voice. “I know that.”

“Then why stare in such awe?”

“Because I’m in love.” The way he goes silent and still so suddenly doesn't sit right with you. But you refuse to let the moment fall into something more awkward.

You stretch a hand out. “I just love the stars. Before I landed here I've never seen a sky like this. Remember that electricity thing I told you about? There's too much of that light pollution to really see the sky. At most, in the city you can see a scattered handful.”

“Typical of humans, to spread their dross even to the skies.” You frown.

“I think it's a shame too that not many people see it as a problem. There was a blackout in…San Francisco? Or Los Angeles? Anyways, there was an electricity blackout and so many people called the authorities to report those ‘strange lights in the sky’. It’s so sad that there are people who don't even know what stars are.”

A scoff. “Humans are simpler and better served when you are dealing with plagues and agriculture and demons. Convenience has made you all indolent.”

“‘Indolent?’”

“Complacent. Lazy.”

“I wasn't asking for a definition,” you frown. And then you pout. “...And I am not lazy.”

“You are. You have none of the skills needed to survive. None of the skills a human your age should have.”

You huff and sit yourself up. “And that's not laziness if it wasn't a necessity to know back when. Besides, I learned quick enough, didn't I? I don't expect anyone to pick up after my slack.”

“What person does not need to know how to search for water, or gather firewood, or to make a fire? Who does not know how to stitch cloth or tell time by sun, to identify poisonous plants?”

“All that is taken care of. We focus on other things, Like curing diseases, or exploring the mysteries and laws of the planet, even other planets. More people can afford an education, and industrial production has only boosted!”

“Produce what? Production for the sake of what? Simply because? That sounds great for your feudal Lords.”

“We dont have Lords-I mean, most of us dont–”

“So you produce for a lord that doesnt make any remedies or facilities available to you.”

You pause. Wher eis this going. “Look at you advocating for the lowly people.”

“I’m not,” he scoffs. “But the symptoms put in place work for a reason. Does your endless labor benefit your life in any meaningful way, or is it just for the sake of capital? Can you eat it what you produce, or use it in any real capacity, or do you endlessly produce for the sake of a possibility of consumption?”

…God damn. You dont need a reality check like this. “Okay mister, I know consumerism is no joke–” 

“No, it's not, its a preference, not a commodity. You are disconnected from the fruits of your labour. Even the poorest rice farmer is better rewarded than you are in your era. Has the human lifespan been extended just for you all to live in pointless work, pointless excess and vice? That sounds simply like gluttony.”

Your fingers dig into your sleeve. The tone of his voice is reprimanding, and cold. This feels like it's devolving into an argument, and you don’t like that.

“Well, I don't think you should judge a multitude, the culmination of generations, or even just one era by a singular person. One you don’t know all that much about.”

“...I know far more about you than I care for.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I know that you are in love.” And you go quiet. “You’re a glutton for the privileges you once held. You act like a sheltered noble, as if the world is in your hands. You get drowsy and antsy before a storm breaks. Your first instinct is to debate and argue, as if you are a scholar-”

“I am–”

“--And you are seldom quiet, and lack proper mannerisms. It is appalling.”

“...Oh, well, please pardon me my esteemed Lord–”

“I do not. Also, you are weak and you have no fear.”

“Fear from what?”  

Finally, he opens his eyes, and you hope he’s far enough away to miss the skip of your heart. They are impassive, and alight, twin lanterns glinting off the top glaciers of a frosty mountain. 

Gods, you’re whipped.

{...behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.}

“...” He stares at you, and you catch up to what you said.

“I mean–! You’re strong enough to deal with any demons we come across, and humans of course don't stand a chance. So… yeah, what do I have to fear?” You raise your hands and let them fall back to your sides, as you fall back to the grass. 

It’s as simple as that. You have protection, you are safe here. What have you to fear?

He doesn't have a response for you, and you think he is in agreement. Or at least tired of talking. Fine either way. 

You hum, and open your eyes to the stars again, only to flinch horribly when the Lord stands above you, outlined by starlight.

You didn't even hear him move. “And you have nothing to fear from me?”

He can probably hear the thumping of your blood, does he mistake that for fear? His eyes are just too…direct. His gaze was always sharp, but it's pointed now, like a knife tracing your throat.

You half sit up, leaning on your elbows, not sure to rise or remain. It brings you closer. “...No.”

“No?”

“As long as I don't do anything to earn your ire, right? Or your displeasure, then I’m fine.

“And…Have I displeased you, my Lord?”

You curse yourself as you stumble over his title, but he crept up on you so suddenly and you’re startled.

He leans in. You’re enthralled.

Hair slips down, like a curtain closing in on either side of you, and you’re captured by golden eyes, like the yellow crater pocketed-moon, like gold, like honey. You don't even notice you’ve sat up fully, until you notice you’re counting each individual lash of his eyes.

He speaks. “No.”

“No?” Fuck, your voice cracks.

He reaches, and your hair comes between his fingers. He has to cradle your head to do it, and it's like he’s holding you up for his purview, keeping you in place. If you let your weight fall, would he hold you up?

“....No. Unfortunately for you, I am not displeased.” 

“Hm? I-I don’t–” you stutter as his hand moves over your eyes. You have to wonder if he can feel the brush of your lashes with each blink, how lightly his hand rests. 

Now you can only hear his voice. “You will see the stars for years hereafter. Now, rest.”

__________

Jaken left right before dawn for the things his Lord needs him to get. He has been foraging from first light to the bright light of noon.

Of course, his Lord didn't give him an exact, precise list, or say, anything, really, but Jaken is also a demon, and he understands that his Lord can't just come out and say the things that you need, the plants he needs to forage, for whatever tinctures, teas, ointments. It's not like you’d know, or even ask, stubborn, pigheaded fool.

You're only human, so you do not understand the significance of what this all means. You will, eventually.

The day is gray as storm clouds gorge themselves with rainwater, soon to burst. This delays their plans–they’ll have to stay within this place for a day or two more, at least until the rains let up enough, for A-un to be able to fly without you two being at risk of a lightning bolt. 

But as of right now, rain hasn't yet broken, though the top soil is only slightly damp as he digs for roots. He has to hurry, before these too are weighed down by wet and storm.

…Imagine his lord, with his elegant, noble hand, digging through dirt for tangled roots? Ha!

But, he's done it before, hasn’t he?

{You and the child sleep into the night, set to rise early next morning. The area is wrought with demons, but you wouldn't know if not for the dying screams here and there-Your Lord slays all who dare to come too close to the dizzying trail you leave behind, though he himself stays out of sight.

At night, he returns, to check the state of you both, to brew teas from the plants he foraged himself. Jaken never speaks-too stunned by the display, its implications. You do not know how terrifying you are, to influence the Lord as such.

You don't know how damned you are, little human.}

“Where in the hells…” The foliage is so overgrown and tangled, and Jaken has to claw his way deeper into the forest to get the things needed. Everything is too strangled and dead closer to the village.

He has his staff with him. And with all the time spent under his lord, his scent signature is on him as well. The demon wouldn't dare to touch him, unless he wishes to die. Honestly, Jaken has no issue with drowning this town or setting the forest ablaze if it saves his life.

There's a scent that catches his nose. Faint, but so startingly familiar that it stops him in his tracks.

The rice boy, with his spiced musk. The scent of his blood.

“So, the naga demon dragged him out here then, hm? Pretty far from the paddies.” Jaken shakes his head, rearranging his basket like an old woman.

“...Did he taste well? Or was he as distasteful as his demeanor?”

There's no response. He doesn't know if it's because the demon is not here, or whether he smells the lord's signature and refuses to come out. Either way, it's safe.

He should be safe.

Under no impression is he that he is alone. The tracks are smooth and unbroken, fresh, and typical of reptilian demons. He knows he is a naga demon, in the few words his Lord shared with him before returning to his chambers. To you.

{“The demon of this town is a naga, white scales,” he pauses to think, remember. “Plain dark hair, brown reptilian eyes.”

“Is he a threat, my lord-” His nails sharpen and Jaken swallows his words.

“If he was, I would have killed him where he wriggled, the worm.” He growls, then sighs, pushing his hair away from his face. 

He sighs again, harsh and quick, and his fangs are elongated, knife sharp and milk white. Shivers ripple across Jaken’s skin.

He understands his Lord could be–is, agitated. You can always put him in that sort of mood, but your frequent heats, over and over and over and over for months on end would put any demon on the ropes. Surely, being so close to you now is having its toll.

Something will have to break–hunger or carnal. Jaken wonders if he’ll come back to a corpse, and he finds himself hoping that, despite…well, you’ll probably be alright. 

“We stay until the worst of the storm abates. They should be over the worst of it then; I will acquire some remedies when day breaks to ease them. There is an apothecary here, so I believe.”}

Jaken knows his Lord would only settle for the convenience of an apothecary, instead of the surety of his own skills and hands in such an inconvenient, meddlesome time. So, Jaken has taken the job, even if he doesn't really like you, even if he is a little late, and, a little lost.

He swats his staff around, trying to clear his way in the general direction of the town. If anything, he just needs to avoid where the ground slopes downwards. Although, those seem to be plenty in this near-untouched forest.

Like now. His foot trips on empty air, a sudden decline, and he stabs the staff into the ground to try and right himself as he falls.

“Why are there so many slopes!?” He screams as he slides. He tumbles down, and he scrambles with all his little might.

“It's a mountain range?! Why does it lead so far down-!” 

It's not uncommon for a terrain like this to be bumpy with hills and hidden crags. But the slope smooths further he goes. 

When he finally gets his footing, he stands to look past the plants that grow past his height, to see that the slope is far deeper than he thought, almost straight down. As he follows it with his eyes, Jaken sees why.

The opening of a mine, half boarded, stands before him. Its outside is black with ash and soot, blackened hand prints and claw marks. He smells the demon, and he smells more blood of the boy. The smell of sulfur, wafting from deep underground.

‘If it is sulfur I cannot light any fires here,’ he thinks. "It will make an explosion and I’ll die as well.”

Furthermore, just to the side of the opening lies a shrine-altar, of sorts.

Jaken isn't getting close to that thing just to get snatched inside. It's an abandoned mine, yet the wind that comes from it is warm, as if heated by body and breath. The altar has offerings on it, half burned incense, silver utensils, and, strangely, a bowl of rice with chopsticks placed vertically within the bowl.

The rice offering wasn't strange. What was strange was it was expensive white rice, and that there was still steam wafting from the bowl.

It's time to go.

This was definitely the demon's lair, an abandoned mine leading underground. Perhaps the offering was made by a foolish resident, praying for all the people who left handprints as they were dragged inside to their doom as they surely were.

He couldn't hear any screams from inside but he wasn't going to be next. Jaken squints more to see the hands that blacken the wood of the mine’s entrance, both big and small. A plethora of victims.

A rustle has him whirl around, staff at the ready. But he sees nothing, hears nothing. He doesn't drop his guard. Instead, he trudges slowly back onto high ground, looking around for the noise. He did not imagine it.

“Who is there? Come, now, if you value your life.” Nothing, except the wind. 

“Do you want me to come find you? Or, are you trying to lure me away from your lair?” 

If he uses fire, he risks an explosion with the sulfur in the air. Water is the safer bet, but if he ends up overdoing it, he might draw out whatever’s in the boarded up mine, or wash himself away. He doesn't exactly have the high ground to keep high and dry.

A voice, suddenly, high but male: “Not at all- You're very welcome.”

He doesnt recognize it. Neither does he doesn't get the chance to look. Hands come out from the grasses, grasping his clothes, his hands, covering his mouth–he is dragged into the mine with nary a sound.

__________

You sleep.

Not peacefully. You toss and turn and curl and uncurl. You go between a deep sleep into a half doze, and Sesshoumaru stays there through it all. It's a normal symptom of preheat behavior. You’ll either be completely asleep or awake for the day or two of your actual heat.

He keeps a pot of ginger tea at the ready for when you awake. It should help.

The child, Rin, is in the room as well, looking over you occasionally with the tug in her brow. He wants to keep her in sight, even though he knows she is capable with the tanto up her sleeve. Capable and willing.

When she glances at you in that worrying way for the nth time, Sesshoumaru beckons her over.

She shuffles on her knees till she is by his side.

“They are not sick.”

“...I know. It happens.”

“So you understand what this is?”

“Cycle. I’ll…get them. Too.”

“I am sure that they have explained to you their terms for their biological functions. But do you understand what cycle I mean?” She looks at him confusedly, and Sesshoumaru sighs. 

If only you were a bit more informed, and not so damn dense, you could’ve been the one having this conversation with the child. She’s practically your child already, with the way you dote on her.

[But she is his too, isn't he? He didn't bring her back to life because she wasn't.]

“Demons have higher senses, so we are more aware of our biology than humans are. There are the dynamics, and everyone fits into one of them. Alpha, beta, omega.” He looks the tiny girl in her eyes, darker than lily-seeds. “You and they–are omega.”

“...?” When she tilts her head he continues. “Alphas are dominant, protective and proactive. Often they are the heads of households, and providers. Betas are more mild, and depending on the individual, fall more towards either side of the spectrum. They typically have softer senses and milder temperaments. Most humans are beta.”

“And…omega?”

“...Sweeter smelling, with softer dispositions. By that I mean they are not as aggressive or forward as Alphas, though, that does not mean they are weak, or invalid. Within demon societies they just tend to be raised that way, so culture shapes perceptions. They are desired for their biology, their sweet scents attract.” Her eyes widen with understanding and he nods.

“That is why demons follow the two of you so often. They are attracted to the blood, yes, there is no doubt of that, but also the scents.”

“Is that why you leave? To not eat…”

“No. If I wanted to eat them I would have done so long before we took you in.” We, we, we. 

You shuffle and groan in your sleep, and her eyes flit towards you.

“Then why do you…”

“To kill the demons that are attracted to the scent of it all. As well as…” she turns to him, and Sesshoumaru wonders if she is too young, perhaps, for him to be as honest as he wants to be. Whether or not you are listening in your dreams.

“Omegas are also desired for mating. Procreation.”

“Pro…”

“To have children.’ her mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape.

“That is why Alphas could be triggered into ruts, when synced with their omega’s heats, which is another kind of cycle, the one they are in right now.”

“...And you are…”

She doesn't say anything else, but he knows the way her mind races, her voice caught behind. So he adds, “...An alpha. But I do not intend to father any bastards. Just because these are our biological functions does not mean we need to adhere to them.” Despite how difficult it feels to not breathe in your scent like a man risen from the depths. His nails dig into his palm and break skin, just to heal the next moment.

“So they are yours then? Your…omega?” How simple she makes it sound, as if that's all there is to this. But you are. He nods.

“So are you going to marry them then?” That question though, for whatever reason, is what jolts him.

…Why hasn't he ever thought of marriage with you before? He has only thought about having you, enjoying you and weathering your antics and quirks. And he’s always had little doubt of your reciprocation, only the quickness of it.

Blackened teeth do not suit you. He prefers the gleam of your smile under sunlight. Shorter sleeves however, would suit you well.

Rin, with her blatant, [and frankly rude] dead straight gaze, hums.

“It’s, okay. I always knew you liked them.”

“Since when?” It comes out more snide than he intended, but she just shrugs.

“The way you look. At each other.” 

That’s it? He wonders, as Rin moves to you. She pulls off his outer chinese robe that's already half off you. She twitches as he does so, and Sesshoumaru’s ears can pick up the soft pop of static that sparks between her hands and the cloth. Rin stands and lifts it, of course, it's much taller than her and pools on the floor. 

If it was anyone else they would have lost their hands. But he watches as she fumbles with the fabric, catching hint a beat too late as she turns the robe inside out, and covers you once more. You flinch before you settle back into comfort.

“There. Better.”  She grins, dusts her hands like she worked oh so hard, a quirk she's picked up from you.

“Rin.” She hums again in answer, looks at him.

And Sesshoumaru, he has to wonder if she understands the significance of what she did. She is a child yes, but a child under the care of demons and a Prophet. A child who's died once already.

“You will never have to worry about your future. Your physiology will have no bearing on what path you decide to take in your life.”

She pauses, and it seems like she wants to say something before she shakes her head, and smiles. She nods, and with a bounce in her step, she skips out the room.

You slumber on.

__________

The rice daughters are quite infamous within this town. And as the eldest of them, Kushinadahime is the least famous of them all.

‘What a strong, dutiful daughter. How hardworking.”

“As she should be. She takes after her mother.”

“No, the twins do moreso. They're so lovely in their performances.”

“Do you think Taiga-san will arrange marriages to get them out of town soon? You know, Kiyohime was married quite young. They’re above the age she was.”

“To whom will they marry? They have to marry outside the town, they’re beautiful enough.”

“Well, to the other twins of course. They're a bit late, aren't they?”

“Do you think Kushinadahime will marry one first? Or will the twins be paired with one another?

“She should provide an example and marry first. Or maybe she'll make sure they're safe first? Especially Ohatsuhime-chan.”

Especially Ohatsuhime, the youngest of them, and the loveliest. The most famous, the most pitied. 

When each daughter was born it was a day of fear. Because common tales will tell that a rice farmer blessed with daughters will have a bountiful harvest, but everyone knows demons love daughters. And they were all beautiful, but Ohatsuhime was beautiful from birth. Some damned, others condemned. Takashi always rejected that nonsense though. He got that from mother.

That's why each one of their names has a ‘Hime’, princess. Why mother washed their hair with white rice water and bathed them in water from the mountain streams. Quite presumptuous of her, and they've carried the tradition even to this day, sneers and looks of envy following after them all their lives.

After mother drowned, those words and looks hung over their heads from thereafter. Takashi was only six years of age, and she was four. The twins were barely over their first year, and Ohatsuhime was just born.

The ominous presence over them faded, as the years passed but now, with the death of the eldest son…

‘Poor Taiga-son, his only son…first his wife and then his son? How cruel. How unfair.”

“Then why didn’t they move like they were first told to? Even before Kiyohime-san…”

“Well, what are they to do now? Kushinadahime must step up now and secure marriages for herself and her sisters. Who else can support them and her father now?’

Yes, as though she has not been the primary caregiver of her family since mother passed and she learned how to work the stove.

[The only thing better than a daughter is an eldest son]. 

Takashi worked hard in the fields, and he could bargain for other supplies from other families if they needed. If a demon slithered into their home, he would take that discarded ronin sword and defend them. 

But beyond that, he never expected to do anything more demanding than some repair at home. As younger children, he almost burned the house down when Tamayorihime asked him to help with dinner once, as she was sick and their father was, frankly, helpless. The twins were too young and Ohatsuhime was an infant.

That's how she tells the twins apart now, by the burn on Tamayorihime’s wrist. She never let him near the stove again.

She made sure their father was cleaned and dressed and fed and took his medication. She and her sisters made the teas and meals, rice cakes, and the mochi and wine and the sake, with the abundance of rice they always had. They cleaned. They worked the fields. Kushinadahime worked with the apothecary, even if the older women told her not to follow her path lest she be single and die childless. The twins loved to dance. Ohatsuhime was still young and wanting to do everything.

Takashi offered protection, and less work among the paddies. He went past the mountain pass every few months to sell and procure things for them. An extra body of warmth in the winter. A voice to talk to in the night. Brother. With father as he was, Patriarch. All he wanted was the world. 

And now, he’s probably dead or being devoured and life has to go on anyways like he never existed, isn't that right? 

Why now? Why so close to the New moon? She knew she should have forced him back to bed; Even strong as he was, Kushinadahime was strong too, she had to be. And he was weak from pain, she could have forced him.

It's almost that time of month, when she and her sisters cycle syncs. Blood, of any kind, attracts. It's why they always left, huddled somewhere secluded and safe to wait the bleedings out. Most women of the town were older, and weaker, so they oft didn't need to hide, not like them. Not like Numchi-san, or the apothecary, in her golden days. Or, you.

The irony does not miss her. She has only seen an image of you, dizzy from a fall, the image of a perfect damsel that her brother just could not help but to help, a boost to his ego. You and Numachi-san are very similar in this regard. 

Who is going to safeguard them now? They are not some pampered vassal, or bride, hiding away in lavish inns with a mighty demon's protection, fostering and mothering children of his.

…She has to go tell her. She and her sisters still need to go. The twins already left much earlier and she must join them. Just until the bleedings stop. Until it's safe to come back. Safe for Ohatsuhime, who has not gotten her blessings despite her age, and safe for her withering, grieving father. For now.

Numachi-san’s twins would not come here now. They wouldn't dare.

Her twins, Toyotamahime and Tamayorihime, were silent as a tomb, despite their tears when she sent them off.

“The usual time, just a few days. You know we can't stay here right now, not…not with what happened. I’ll tell  father.”

“What about Ohatsuhime?”

“We can't send her to Numachi-san. Not with that demon there.”

“Then I'll send them both to the apothecary. I’ll force father if I have to. Just focus on getting there safely, okay?” With an embrace, she sent them on their way.

She’ll join them, after she makes sure that her sister and father will be taken care of. She’ll seclude herself with her sisters, until it's safer to be around them. 

She jumps as Ohatsuhime suddenly taps her shoulder. She whirls to meet her wide, dark eyes.

“-hime, it's very hot today. Everyone is tired even though it's not noon yet.”

“...Alright, we can stop for a break then and–”

“Kushinadahime,” They always use their full names, no honorifics with one another. “There's. Something else. Tamayorihime and Toyotamahime already left, right?” Something in her tone makes her pause, but Kushinadahime was speaking and cutting her off is just rude so just let her finish her sentence, please?

…She can feel her skin crawling, like it wants to get away from her body.

“In a minute. After the break lets gather what we’ve got-”

“No, Kushinadahime, it’s-”

“And it's almost time to give father his medicinal teas and did you pack the things you'll need–”

“Kushinada-hime,” Ohatsuhime raises her voice. Few of the workers who weren't already have turned to look.

“Father. Isn't. Resting right now.”

“...Well, I can understand why not.” Is a dead son still called prodigal, or just lost? “He'd be working with the rest of us if he could, I bet.” 

“No, sister, he…he left, he left.” It's only a moment of pause, before she's suddenly dragging her baby sister back to dry land.

“What do you mean? When?! Why didn't you tell me earlier? Where could he be? Where could he have gone?!”

“He took Takashi-kun’s blade with him. He found something when we went to check the spot again, oh, I told him not to, I told him to stop, he never goes inside the grove but he kept on and we found– I think he’s going to Numachi-san’s inn!”

“What did he find?” She could grip her hair out in frustration, anger, worry. But as Ohatsuhime holds open the fist she kept at her side, Kushinadahime sees the silver thread–no, strand of hair there, and her stomach drops.

And thats the end of part one! Part Two will be linked here if you wanna see what happens next!

Taglist: @tanspostsblog @xmenteria

Poetry: Izumi Shikibu / Otomo no Yakamochi