#i imagine Sun's used to Moon decorating his rays

[crabsnpersimmons]

Hmmmm.... yk what I was thinking of a few days ago? Carrots, carrots are good for your body and help regulates your blood pressure. I love carrots so much, yum, yum, yum, yum, yum. I always thought hye sun or any sun rays looked like carrots, like get one ray and then put a small heart-shaped green paper cut-out above it, then I'm fully convinced its a carrot I might as well be convinced even without the paper cut-out. Nom, nom.

ough that's such a cute idea, i had to doodle it real quick

💚🥕 carrot boy sun 🥕💚

[ninadove]

If the woman next to Nathalie is indeed Amelie and Emilie is still dead, how do you imagine Amelie and Felix will redecorate The Agreste Mansion? (Assuming that they move there since Amelie is now Adrien’s only adult relative left.)

Oh my gosh Anon. That is SUCH a cute ask, but let me tell you, you have opened Pandora’s box and unleashed 50 levels of overanalysis upon the world. Time for me to turn into an architecture and interior design major for the sake of this post.

In order to get a good sense of Amelie’s taste and of the massive work that needs to be done, let’s compare the shared spaces in the Agreste mansion to those in the Graham de Vanily penthouse.

The first thing that strikes me is that the palettes are exactly the same: white and black are the dominant hues, with a pop of colour coming from earthy tones. And yet, the two atmospheres could not be more different! In my opinion, this boils down to a few key elements: lighting, shapes, space, and purpose.

1. Lighting

The most obvious one. Just look how miserable the Agrestes’ living (?) room looks in comparison to the Graham de Vanily’s. There’s an interesting subversion here when it comes to lighting sources.

The Agrestes’ mansion relies mostly on natural lighting, which gives it a greyish, depressing look. Windows are everywhere, and they’re big, but they aren’t meant to let the sun filter through; instead, they ressemble a cage keeping Adrien in.

Sunlight represents the outside world, which Gabriel "No one matters except us" hates. In his mind, whatever looms outside of the mansion is dangerous. Hawkmoth’s attacks always start with letting the light in, the same way he welcomes his victims’ negative emotions; while he keeps Emilie safe in the crypt, as far away from the sun as possible (even when we do see it fully illuminated, it has to come from an artificial source).

Emilie’s cosy little basement, Gabriel’s office and Nathalie’s room — the adults’ world — are the only spaces that get the courtesy of significant artificial lightning. In other words, there is not enough light and joy coming in from the outside, and definitely not enough coming from the inside to compensate. Which is super sad if you ask me.

Now onto the Graham de Vanily penthouse. We do not get many shots of it, and most of them are taken at night time, which I (want to) believe is a very conscious choice on the writing team’s part.

While Gabriel refuses to let sunlight, and everything good it symbolises, into his son’s life, Amelie welcomes the night and the potential dangers it carries with it. The windows make up two entire walls, offering a full view of the outside world.

Notice how the moon and stars are nowhere to be seen in this shot, yet the penthouse remains significantly brighter than the mansion on the sunniest day. The abundance of artificial light in the Graham de Vanily home, light that comes from within, is a symbol of the love they share as a family.

So obviously, we need to get Adrien some lamps, urgently.

2. Shapes

The thing about the Agreste mansion is, it has potential.

No really. Hear me out.

The use of straight lines (vertical in the overall architecture, expanding like sun rays in the minimalistic decor) is reminiscent of Art Déco, which is a very fun style. For instance, it gave us the Chrysler building:

But here, it’s just… Not working. In fact, these same lines are what makes the entire building look like a cage — not just the windows I mentioned above, but the entire structure of the place, trapped between vertical lines like behind prison bars.

On the other hand, the Graham de Vanily penthouse is ruled primarily by horizontal lines, which expand the space instead of compressing it. It’s smaller, but it feels bigger and more breathable.

This difference in structure directly contributes to my third point:

3. Space

More precisely, how it is organised to make the mansion look threatening, and the penthouse cosy.

And by that I specifically mean this AWFUL NO GOOD TERRIBLE STAIRCASE.

It’s the first thing we think about when picturing the mansion; how it towers over the characters and crushes them. There’s a reason Marinette’s act of defiance in Pretension was to rush up those despicable horrifying very very bad stairs to find Adrien; they are a symbol of Gabriel’s power over his world, his fans, his son, his victims.

Interestingly enough, the penthouse is also built on several levels — which we can infer by the presence of a very discreet mezzanine. This implies the existence of stairs, right??? Where are they???

It’s very blink-and-you-miss it — the exact opposite of the Agreste staircase. To the Graham de Vanilys, stairs are just stairs: a necessity for their comings-and-goings, a useful infrastructure in their day-to-day life as a family. Not a display of power and control.

Oh? Is that a transition I sense? Absolutely, for it is time to move on to the last part of our analysis:

4. Purpose

Just like the staircase, every single piece of furniture in the Agreste household serves a purpose. Adrien’s room is the best example of this phenomenon.

On top of the essentials (bed + desk & computer combo), we immediately notice:

- A plethora of trophies, reinforcing the message that Adrien has to be the best at everything he does, always;

- An impressive bookshelf, illustrating the top-notch (and somewhat elitist) education Adrien has been receiving at home.

"But Nina!" you might ask, "What about the fun stuff? What about the arcade games and the basketball hoop and the climbing wall?"

I hear you. Those things look pretty cool, don’t they? Until you remember that Adrien has spent his entire life in isolation. These are all appliances that would normally be found outside of the house, giving him an opportunity to socialise. In other words, they are meant to deter him from seeking enjoyment in the “real” world. If, like me, you were obsessed with N Harmonia as a pre-teen, you might notice some striking similarities to his cage room:

Still not convinced? Say hi to our friend the foosball table!

Meanwhile, on the actually loving side of the family, you get an entire piano and AN ACTUAL ABSTRACT PAINTING:

It’s not even figurative — unlike the portraits of the Agreste family members or the statue in the garden, constantly reminding us of Emilie’s absence. It’s art for the sake of art, which makes a massive difference. Things are allowed to be there for no reason other than Amelie and Felix like them.

So now that we’ve established that

How would they redecorate the mansion if given the chance?

1. Lean into the Art Déco aesthetic for a much needed dose of actual (yet elegant) fun. There are so many lines and curves to play with to get rid of this feeling of imprisonment we get from the pillars!

2. BLOW UP THOSE FUCKING STAIRS. No, really. We can find a much cuter, less pretentious alternative to whatever kind of power trip that was.

3. Get rid of the stupid bars on all those windows. Replace them with literally any other option that doesn’t make you want to choke on a pancake.

4. Also, get some lamps. Lamps EVERYWHERE, on the walls, on the ceiling, on the furniture. The resident vampire is GONE, we can have some goddamn light in this goddamn place.

5. Indulge in the pleasure of buying things just because they’re pretty. Trash the paintings and put up some actual art (abstract or not) instead. Exorcise Emilie’s ghost and Gabriel’s tacky tastes out of this place. This process has already begun, given that the statue in the garden is now gone!

6. Let Adrien decorate his own room, and have fun with it. This part may be tricky because our boy doesn’t know what he wants, but you know what, it’s part of the process! Giving him total creative control over his own space is a first step towards his making bigger decisions for himself, like choosing what he wants to be when he grows up. As requested by my ✨ awesome girlfriend ✨ @paracosmicfawn, he can also redecorate the entryway, which carries sooo much trauma for him. Maybe he can put up some cute cat statuettes along the new staircase, or something equally cheesy.

7. Build a pool, apparently

8. Last but not least, block all accesses to the basement and the attic. Hide them behind these new Kandinsky paintings they just bought. Pray to Gimmi Adrien never finds out (he will).

And that, my friend, is how you take a prison and turn it into a home full of secrets!

[where-ismydonkey]

DCA PROMPTOBER - DAY 2

PAPER PALS

"What about this?" Sun asked, for what seemed like the hundreth time, as you went back and forth on what new candle to buy for the Halloween season. He'd nag you about the safety risks later when he noticed, but right now he was too busy holding up a spooky decoration, "Skeletons are fun, right? Spooky scary?"

You glanced over at him absentmindedly, before your mouth fell open. Staring up at the plastic skeleton he was holding, you immediately shook your head, "Not when it's taller than you are! Where would we even fit that thing, huh?"

"Outside?" the robot guessed, as if you could just dangle the giant thing from a window or a fire escape. The rays around his head spun in a quick circle as he watched you, "Is that not obvious?"

"Riddle me this then," you rolled your eyes, impulsively reaching for a random candle. You'd decide if you liked it or not later as you placed it in the shopping cart, "How would we put it outside if we live in an apartment, Sun? I don't even think we can fit it into the cart, either!"

He struggled, trying to come up with an answer, and you wondered just how many google tabs and reddit pages him and Moon—because he was probably getting a kick out of seeing you so bewildered—were consulting. And a little after that, he huffed. Side eyeing you, without even having a face to emote you could tell he wouldn't give the skeleton up without a fight.

And since you couldn't tackle and fight a 7 foot tall animatronic, you had to come up with something else.

"Okay," you smiled, and watched as he perked up. Too bad for your boys, since you continued, "Why don't we just make some of our own Halloween decorations this year? It'd be a little more cost effective and more fun, anyway!"

He gave you a dubious glance, head tilted. And while you racked your brain for the perfect homemade decorations to make, you watched as he glanced from the large, plastic skeleton and back to you. And again.

It wasn't until Sun put a hand on his hip that he tentatively asked, "...What types of crafts?"

"How about baking? My Halloween Pinterest board is ready!"

"That's not a craft. And it's messy."

"Maybe, but you're getting good at it!"

Sun shook his head.

You tried again, "How about flying paper bats and floating paper ghosts?"

"Are you forgetting to account for our height, Starshine? We'd take everything down with us!"

Oh damn them, being so tall!

You crossed your arms, "Okay, well we could definitely carve pumpkins and maybe leave those out on the fire escape! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Messy, more like it," he shook his head, "I've heard pumpkin guts are hard to clean up!"

"Who told you that? Google?" you teased, as he tensed up and began to ramble about the accuracy of most search results.

You disagreed, but effectively stopped listening after a few seconds. Because while the internet was helpful, it made him so annoying sometimes, so you thought of what else you could do. Glancing around, you gazed at the Halloween decor littering the department store from afar, hoping inspiration would strike you.

There were a few inflatable ghouls, witches, and skeletons. All much too big, though, and you couldn't even imagine the price. And some large, dangling cobwebs littering the corner of the section, but how would you even make those at home?

Pursing your lips, you glanced back at Sun. His hands were up, as he was in full tangent over pumpkin guts and how to properly dispose of them. And scratching your head, you tried not to think about how he might get you kicked out of the store, but instead about what crafts he used to do with the children.

The Superstar Daycare was synonymous with artsy, and that bot had the kids constantly channeling their creativity. He had always said it was a good outlet for their energy and anything else they were feeling. So there was always some type of activity involving slime, finger paintings, or paper pals.

Oh shit, paper pals!

Those kinda cute, kinda creepy crafts that he had always insisted on making with the kids! Cheap, easy to make, and it was the perfect idea, especially for him and Moon's first Halloween out of the Pizzaplex—

Or would they hate it?

Ugh, you wanted to kick yourself for even thinking of it. The Pizzaplex had been horrible for everyone there! Whether they were human and working hefty hours there, or robotic and tethered to the sick company for eternity. And there was no doubt Sun and Moon had had it horrible. So you quickly got the thought out of your head, deciding it would be best to not rehash the past.

Too bad the bot had noticed it, too attuned to your behavior now. He cocked his head and swiftly shoved the skeleton into a random shelf. Which was amusing since it was so large, but you'd force him to put it back where it belonged later. You didn't want to imagine the poor retail worker that'd have to lug that thing back to its section, but his static smile was hitting you with the same emotion as a questioning frown.

Sun leaned down to you, awfully close, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, "Uh, I just lost The Game."

"The what?"

"I'll explain it to you later!" you chuckled uneasily, "Should we look at more candles?"

"You know those pose a fire risk in an enclosed space!" Sun shook his head before changing the subject, "What's wrong? Did you have another craft in mind for us?"

If you said no, he'd see right through you. And if you said yes and told him, there was no telling what his and Moon's reaction would be.

"Well..." you hesitated, tapping on the handrail of the shopping cart. The rhythm was the same one animatronic would tap, but you ignored that fact as you tried to muster up your courage instead. All you had to do was ask a simple question. Only problem was you weren't sure it wouldn't recall isolation and programmed obedience.

Sun's voice was soft as you stared up at him, "Use your words, Starshine."

"Okay," you sighed apprehensively and crossed your arms. Slowly, you asked, "...Should we make paperpals?"

You held your breath for a second. As if it could stop the either joyous or disastrous reaction you would receive. And if the latter happened, it was on you for even pushing it. The last thing you wanted was to make both of them uncomfortable, or bring back any awful memories from the past that would hurt them.

You couldn't bear it if that happened.

So as you opened your mouth to backtrack on the whole idea, you jumped. He had let out a shrill gasp, spooking you as he grasped your shoulders and exclaimed, "Should we? You didn't even need to ask!"

—

Good morning!!! Wrote this before class since i love to torture myself by coming in hours early to beat rush hour!!! oh well, gives me more time to write hehe. Also thank you so much for the reception on my last(and first) post, i appreciate it lots!!!

And thanks to @bluerasbunny for creating the prompt for DCATOBER 24! Hope you like it!

[timeagainreviews]

Dance, Magic Dance: The Church on Ruby Road

With the return of Russell T Davies we were given a “new” Doctor Who logo with their revamped take on the classic diamond logo. The diamond logo is everywhere now. Books, web content, episodes, and more are stamped with it. Everything except for the “Doctor Who: The Collection,” blu-rays which continue to display the Jodie Whittaker era logo. The reason for this is simple- spines. Most people display books and physical media with their spines facing outward. If you were to change the font on those spines, they lose their uniformity. For some people, that shit is infuriating. It’s not just Doctor Who fans either. The infamous plastic Homer head box for The Simpsons’ sixth season DVD is still controversial. If Doctor Who fans can get upset about a blu-ray spine, then imagine how they might react if you were to change the Saturday time slot to a Sunday. Or even more brazenly, imagine changing the Christmas episode to a New Year's Eve episode. Should be super easy, barely an inconvenience. Right?

It had been six years since Doctor Who last aired a Christmas special. While I have come to appreciate the importance of a Christmas episode within the fandom, I argued in favour of the change at the time as I am not the biggest fan of Christmas. I have history with the holiday, like many of us do. New Year’s Eve also pertains to time, so it made some sense. And for as cheerful as they tend to be, Doctor Who Christmas specials were becoming a graveyard of regenerating Doctors. I get that Christmas is about renewal, but watching the Doctor die on Christmas isn’t my jam, especially if they’re surrounded by a bunch of tacky Christmas decor. Only one other time do we see a freshly regenerated Doctor at the beginning of a Christmas episode and that was David Tennant in  “The Christmas Invasion.” It also consistently ranks as the best of the RTD Christmas specials. Though I believe “The Church on Ruby Road,” may soon challenge that.

Before I get into it, I want to preface this by saying I was on my third flute of Buck’s Fizz by the time the episode started. I don’t usually drink alcohol when I’m about to watch a film or TV show. I once went to see Terry Gilliam’s “The Brothers Grimm,” while drunk and it was a bad time on two fronts. But this was Christmas, I was feeling a bit jolly. I only mention this because I may be a bit fuzzy on the details. It’s funny then that the details are another reason I’m feeling a bit fuzzy. Last night, when I should have been asleep, I was researching runes, glyphs, and symbols in an attempt to identify the symbols drawn on the Doctor’s fingernails. That’s how intriguing this new era of Doctor Who is- it’s got me doing research into the early hours of the morning.

Where I first noticed the symbols drawn on Ncuti’s fingernails was in the below promotional image. They looked like some fan had put them there, but when I saw that it was official, I felt a stir inside. Part of me mourned for the kids who have parents like my mom who would see those symbols, call them Satanic and forbid them from watching Doctor Who. The other part of me questioned their function. I know Ncuti Gatwa is an avid follower of the zodiac, so I was braced for it to be that simple, but I had hoped it was something more. In my research, I had trouble finding an exact match for the two clearest runes in the picture. The character on his ring finger looks a bit like the number three in Psalter Pahlavi or like something from Linear A. While the crescent shape on his middle finger looked a bit like the alchemical symbol for platinum or the zodiac symbols for the Sun and Moon. When you’re a time and space travelling alien, your zodiac and table of elements must reach beyond our solar system. They could be alchemical symbols for Dalekanium or the zodiac symbol for Gallifrey. Maybe with this new magical Whoniverse, the Doctor now writes talismans on his fingers for protection.

It’s an enchanting prospect that we get to discover this new magic through the eyes of a new Doctor and companion. There’s a sort of levelling of the playing field for us as fans to come into this new chapter of Doctor Who slightly off our bearings. Who better to lead us through the chaos of magic than the Doctor himself? If his fingernails are a sign of this change, then he’s already got a leg-up on us, which is an exciting place to be as an audience. It’s so easy to be a pedantic know-it-all when the answer is always “Aliens,” but what about all those times a wizard did it, or in this case, the Toymaker?

Our introduction to Ruby Sunday was a bit surprising. Leaving her on a church doorstep felt like a page out of the Steven Moffat playbook of fairy tale magic. But also grounded in the character development we got with Rose, Martha, and Donna. Ruby’s backstory is a mystery, but her agency is not. Ruby has friends, a band, and a family. We’ve known her for 55 minutes and I already have a decent grasp on who she is as a person. She has a compassion for Lulubelle which goes beyond being kidnapped by Goblins. You can see she feels a kinship as a fellow foundling. She knows how it feels to feel disconnected from her history. Similarly, the Doctor can look at both Ruby and Lulubelle and see himself on their faces. He too was adopted after being left behind. 

I enjoyed this aspect of the story as my own family is touched by adoption. My mother found out she was adopted after her adoptive parents died. Coincidentally, she had already adopted a little girl from China a year or so prior. I now have three adopted siblings and I love them all. It means a lot to me to see them portraying Ruby’s family as a realistic depiction of an adopted family. Her adoptive mother, Carla, is as good a mother as one could hope for. When she admits she was nervous about Ruby finding her biological mother, it’s understandable. She doesn’t want to ruin the beautiful family that started when Ruby came into her and her mother Cherry’s lives.

The Davina McCall scene may be the weakest part of the episode. Aside from the prologue, it’s basically the first scene, and much like the other opening scenes in the RTD2 era, it’s a bit wonky. The dialogue lends itself to Ruby’s nervousness being interviewed, but “foundled,” is a bit too close to fondled for my tastes. It’s VOR all over again. The main takeaway from the interview is that Ruby was the baby left at the church (no surprises there) and that Davina’s people are going to try to find her birth parents. Sadly, as we come to find out, Ruby’s parents prove to be untraceable. The interview is cut short when the mics begin picking up the sound of Goblins. I feel like the only reason they were Goblins is because pointy-eared mischief makers called Gremlins ruining Christmas was a bit too close to a certain ‘80s movie. Better to go for a story with musical numbers about Goblins who steal babies for the Goblin King. No ‘80s movies infringed there… wait a minute. I kid of course, there’s nothing wrong with paying homage to the classics.

Before we get too far from the interview scene, I want to talk about Denzel. No, I don’t mean America’s sweetheart, Denzel Washington, I mean the sound guy. Was I drunk, or did Ruby mention he asked her out? I’d heard rumours she was going to have a bit of a love triangle with her boyfriend and the Doctor. I wonder if it’s not him. It would be weird to have a sound guy with a unique name who gets mentioned again if it’s not going to come back into play. I think this might enter the territory of the controversial aspects of the season that Millie Gibson alluded to recently. It’s funny then that the part of me that finds any of that controversial is the part of me that hates the idea of the Doctor being romantic with companions. I’ve never enjoyed it. Rose and Ten? Blech. Yaz and Thirteen? Snore. Representation matters, sure, but what about asexual and aromantic representation? I get that people might fancy the Doctor, especially when they look like Ncuti Gatwa, but I hope the Doctor continues to ward off any advances.

Speaking of representation, I would like to take a smidgen of a moment to talk about Trudy. As a trans woman, it was nice to see her living her best life. Simply letting trans characters exist is better representation than what we got in “The Star Beast.” They didn’t even pat themselves on the backs about it in “Doctor Who Unleashed,” as I worried they might. Regardless, some cis people think that any trans representation is shoving it down their throats. They reject the reality that for many people, trans people are a part of their daily lives. If your average person took the time to learn people’s pronouns, they’d see we’re everywhere. We’re not trying to shove anything in your face. Trust me. You’re not our type.

As I said above, it’s nice to see Ruby’s life play out over this montage. You learn a bit about her life and what she gets up to. Though when I heard she had a band, I was hoping for something more punk than Christmas standards. Ncuti dancing on the dancefloor was joyous, a word which I find myself using about him a lot lately. I love the embracing of his Scottish upbringing with his kilt. When I read RTD’s Doctor Who Magazine article talking about the Doctor dancing, I worried a little bit. Sure, the Ninth Doctor proved the Doctor dances, but I worried the scene would make the Doctor feel too sexy or too human. The Eleventh Doctor’s terrible dancing garnered the name “The Giraffe,” because it was so unflattering. But the Fifteenth Doctor pulls it off in a way few others could. However, I do still take issue with one aspect of that scene and that’s Ruby leaving her drink unattended in a busy club. There are worse people than Goblins mucking about with drinks, Russell. Let’s make a good example for the young members of the audience.

The montage of the Doctor watching Ruby from afar was actually a note from Disney. Test audiences wanted to see the Doctor earlier, and I don’t disagree. In the words of Werner Herzog’s Mandalorian character- “I want to see the baby.” It also explains why we recently saw footage of Ncuti punching through a snowman head when principal photography had ended months ago. This, of course, was due to further meddling from the Goblins, who appear to be everywhere now. They’re like bedbugs who pass from person to person. I loved the line “A pram at midnight. Really?” Such a cheeky Doctor already. Gatwa gives vibes of previous Doctors throughout the entire episode, but the snowman head scene gave us one I didn’t expect. The Doctor telling the policeman to ask his girlfriend to marry him reminded me of the Eighth Doctor’s penchant for fortunetelling. Only this time, he’s not weirdly omniscient, but rather making a wild assumption after his sonic pinged a diamond ring, which is a thing it does now, evidently.

The Doctor’s new sonic screwdriver has been a bit controversial, because what isn’t in this fucking fandom lately? I get the argument that it’s just not to your liking, that’s fair. But I’ve seen some monumentally dumb takes on the subject. I saw someone complain that it wasn’t shaped like a screwdriver. I hate to break it to you, but none of them have been shaped like a screwdriver. Show me on the Third Doctor’s where you fit the Phillips head. I’ve also seen people complain that it looked like tech from the early 2000s. So their biggest complaints are that it looks weird and out of time. How inappropriate for an alien time traveller. Regardless, I loved seeing Fifteen using his assorted gadgets. His intelligent gloves feel like a natural fit amongst his classic instruments and I can see them coming in handy further down the line. There’s also something about seeing the Doctor pull out the psychic paper that brings it home for me. It’s like seeing the Doctor square off with their first Dalek. It makes them feel complete. I know RTD said they’re giving the Daleks a rest for a bit, but I hope we do get to see Ncuti officially call one a “detty pig,” before he bows out.

The Goblin ship was a great way to introduce us to the new magical aspect of the Whoniverse. Not just because it’s fantastical, but also because the Doctor wasn’t able to use his shiny new screwdriver on it. Had it been a normal spaceship with metal and wires, he would only need to point and click. But this ship is all wood and rope, rendering the sonic mostly useless. The Goblins force the Doctor to learn the science of luck, but the ship causes him to learn the language of rope. I adored watching Ruby and the Doctor bicker while he was busy learning about the ship. They’ve not been together five minutes and they’re already getting tied up by baddies. They have an instant Doctor/companion relationship and it’s obvious why they were paired together. Furthermore, Ncuti’s detachment from the danger of the situation, coupled with an admiration for the Goblins’ tech was pure Doctory goodness. I could easily see Tom Baker fiddling with rope while Sarah Jane complained that he was goofing off.

Because of the charity release of “The Goblin Song,” many of us had become intimately familiar with it before the episode. What I doubt many of us were expecting was for Ncuti and Millie to join in on the singing. While I’ve not heard anyone complain about this, I’m sure someone has. To me, it worked. For starters, it’s a Christmas episode. Secondly, the Goblins have a band. It makes sense that the Doctor would try to win them over by speaking their language. It seems to work as the Goblins dance along with the Doctor and Ruby. Much of their logic seems dictated by whimsy. They sing and dance. They cause mischief. And they are attracted to coincidence. It’s not just that Lulubelle is a baby, it’s that she’s flavoured by happenstance. Both she and Ruby are foundlings left on Christmas Eve. It’s like the sound of a dinner bell for these little munchers. While the singing and dancing worked for both the scene and the Goblins, I hope RTD continues to use it sparingly. While I expect to see it return with the Beatles episode, I don’t want the concept to wear out its welcome. Doctor Who can afford the odd musical episode, but let’s not go crazy.

With Lulubelle saved, the Doctor and Ruby get her back home before Carla or Cherry ever notice she’s gone. This gives the family a chance to meet the Doctor, starting with Cherry. Cherry’s reaction to the Fifteenth Doctor was an understandably thirsty one. RTD kind of wrote himself into a corner by casting Gatwa. It must be exhausting to begin every scene with “The Doctor enters the room and people are immediately enamoured.”  He exudes charisma in a way that makes you stop looking at David Tennant. Remember the bi-generation scene? Little known fact, but Tennant was also in that scene. Another enjoyable aspect of the Cherry scene was seeing the Doctor flirt back. I know I said I dislike a romantic Doctor, but it was nice to see it with someone more age-appropriate. I kid, but what I did like about the scene was that he spoke to her as if she were a young woman. Because for him, she is. And even further, it didn’t feel like that cutesy old people flirting like “If I were younger,” bullshit. It makes sense that a time traveller would find whoever a person is in the present the most important. You can travel to the past or the future, but it all pivots along you in the present. We stand outside past and future versions of ourselves. To me, this is why the Doctor is compassionate, he sees the pivot people are capable of making. Can you now pivot beyond a dark past into a bright future?

The meeting between Carla and the Doctor was less flirtatious. Carla seemed open to this eccentric Doctor while keeping a concerned mother’s distance. The ironic thing is that not only is the Doctor like Ruby and Lulubelle, but he’s also a lot like Carla. Both of them know the weight that comes with what the Twelfth Doctor would call “duty of care.” Like the Doctor’s long list of previous companions, the photos on Carla’s fridge tell a story of lives touched. This is why when things go bad and Ruby disappears, the missing photos on the fridge cut us to our core. Michelle Greenidge floored me with her performance here. Seeing her claim her life is great because she has no responsibility was harrowing. We’ve seen her real truth. She’s a centre point of light illuminating the lives of many, not this selfish woman in it for the paycheck. Even Cherry now feels forgotten in the other room, waiting out the clock. This is a reality the Doctor cannot tolerate.

Not only are the Goblins little baby-stealing monsters, but they’re also time-hoppers, whatever the hell that means. How it differs from time travel probably has more to do with a Time Lord’s concept of elegance than anything else. But like the Daleks, I doubt Goblins have much of a concept of elegance. If anything it’s a warped admiration for coincidence. And if a baby Lulubelle isn’t a viable meal option, then the other side of that coincidental coin, baby Ruby, would have to suffice. After all, I’m fairly certain if they don’t feed the Goblin King soon, he’s going to start wooing Jennifer Connelly at a masked ball. The Doctor travels back to that church on Ruby Road. Tears still running down his face, we see the mysterious woman leaving Ruby behind. Is it her mother? Is it a younger version of the mysterious Mrs Flood? Is it Ruby herself? The Doctor doesn’t have the time to go chasing after her. He has Gobbos to stop.

Floating above the church steeple like Bowser’s airship, the Goblins begin hauling Ruby onboard. The Doctor climbs to the church roof where he puts the last spark of power in his intelligent gloves to the test. Instead of climbing up to the ship, the Doctor begins pulling the ship back down to earth by its rope ladder. However, the ladder is more likely to give out before his gloves do. So in a last-ditch effort, the Doctor brings all of his weight down using the gloves’ ability to increase mavity (I know) on the ladder. The ship plunges onto the church steeple which stabs up through the hull and into the belly of the Goblin King. With his influence and magic now dispersed, the ship and all of its Goblins disappear with it, leaving baby Ruby in a freefall. No pressure. The Doctor of course catches her using the gloves to cushion her fall. It was all a pretty lucky gamble considering the steeple could have just as easily hit Ruby, but luck is now a tangible thing, so maybe it was lucky. You could say “The Doctor killed a guy,” but you could also say this was the Goblin King’s second chance, and as you remember- “No second chances.” It would appear that the Doctor is still that sort of man.

With the Goblins gone, neither Ruby nor Davina McCall will be plagued with bad luck. Davina even gets so lucky as to have the Doctor appear just in time to prevent her from being brained by a Christmas tree star. The pictures on the fridge are back, and so is the giant crack the Goblins left when they attempted to kidnap Ruby. It makes you wonder just how Carla and Cherry will fair with squirrels getting in through the roof while Ruby is off exploring all of time and space. Does insurance cover acts of Goblin? Who knows, maybe Kate Stewart will stop by with a restoration team. All the Doctor would need to do is make a call. Mrs Flood returns to commend the Doctor for a better parking job. Is it just me or was that a subtle hint of disability representation? A subtle reminder not to block the pavement for the elderly and disabled.

I liked that the TARDIS appeared to invite Ruby inside by opening her doors to her. You could say the Doctor flipped a switch, but he was busy doing his fourth costume change. I like to think she was giving her seal of approval. I never quite understood why the TARDIS didn’t like Clara. It seemed to come out of nowhere. The TARDIS was like, “I dunno why, but I don’t like this bitch.” I guess you could say the whole Impossible Girl thing made her competition, but now it’s just starting to sound like Moffat writing women. But the TARDIS and Ruby? Just gals being pals. Sisters before misters. Empowered women empower women. Yas queen.

In the end, we’re left with Mrs Flood comforting her neighbour Abdul after he sees the TARDIS dematerialise. She gives the camera a devious smile as she says “Never seen a TARDIS before?” This of course is the classic Davies Easter Egg. He knew the fandom would blow up. And dammit, after almost twenty years of saying it, it had better be the Rani. Some people have said Romana or Susan, but she feels a bit more sinister. Besides, if it’s Susan, I’m going to be disappointed because Carol Anne Ford is still alive. If it was Susan, we’re owed a flashback to her regeneration. The reason she feels slightly sinister is the way she gaslights Abdul about the TARDIS. She yells at the poor man like he parked the thing in front of her house even though she apparently knows what it is. Conversely, she could be nobody we’ve seen before. Perhaps she’s an Eternal or “the Boss.” Either way, I’m intrigued.

Ncuti Gatwa is finally the Doctor. It almost feels unreal to be able to say that. Not only have we waited a long time to say it, but what an exciting Doctor he is already. He brings an invigorated energy to the performance. He's full of charm and I can't picture many Doctors pulling off a curtsy as well as he did. I’m still waiting for him to get a bit scary, but his amazed reaction to seeing Goblins about to eat a baby shows me he’s capable of it. I would like to see them show his age a little, but there’s still loads of time. His conversation with Cherry gave us a glimpse at the ancient being behind his eyes, but I would like to see more. While the Doctor may still have hang-ups about his past, it would appear his time with Donna was a time of emotional healing. The Doctor isn’t afraid of his emotions and it’s been a bit of a revelation just how much I like that. This Doctor wears his hearts on his sleeves and it’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s a far cry from “I'm still quite socially awkward,” and I couldn’t be any happier about that. We have a new Doctor. A new companion. New rules. Is anyone else excited for May?

[grinmaw]

Bellow the cut is what happens on page 14. If you dont wanna be spolied then dont read below cut.

I was qurious to see what a fan- fic version of the story might look like. There is only so much I can put in a single page so this is a more in- depth view of the story.

Later that night…

She did take upon his ‘suggestion’, and was now trying to get as comfy as possible for a good night sleep. As the king’s very special guest, or friend rather, she was of course, offered an equally special room.

Fancy was one word to describe it. It was decked from floor to ceiling in furniture only befitting someone who belonged in royalty. Like a Princess... A grand bed took a sizable portion of the room, covered with fine cotton sheets and fluffy pillows. The rest of the room was decorated with all manner of furniture, all expertly crafted, some of them full of clothes like dresses and such. Others had jewelry and other trinkets tucked away in their drawers. Even the carpets were made of fine material and had intricate patterns sewed into them.

Rozaria didn’t care much for this finery. She hasn’t even used the bed since day one, quite content to sleep on a pile of pillows on the floor. She was busily kneading some of them with her paws, her claws softly scratching the fabric.

If Bowser wanted to treat her like a princess then so be it, she wasnt about to complain. His antics were still very much amusing to her.  

She was back in her dragon form, instead of her usual humanoid one. There were no prying eyes, or quivering voices hidden in dark corners, so she was quite content to be her true self behind closed doors. The Koopas were brave, but it didn’t elude her eyes how sometimes they would look wearily at her, and grip their weapons a little tighter as she passed them. It was to be expected, she supposed. She was like a predator walking amongst potential snacks, and who knew when she would decide that shes done playing pretend and take over the castle. Of course they wouldn’t trust a dragon that easily…unlike Bowser.

He seems to be the only one that was not unnerved by her presence, and would seek it even. The past few days he would drag her around the castle, as if they were chained together, all day long. She didn’t understand why was he being so hospitable to a creature such as her, but she wasn’t about to question him. She was quite content on waiting out whatever game they were playing. If he was pretending to be nice just to get something in return, then he would eventually slip up. They might’ve made a pact of friendship, but Rozaria wasn’t so naïve to think that that wouldn’t be broken at some point. For now, she would just have to be patient..

The castle was eerie quiet without its King present. Bowser did leave for the Mushroom Kingdom that night, just as he said he would.

“Guess he just cant wait to meet his girlfriend. Or perhaps he is the romantic type that likes to propose under the full moon?”, she could just imagine him getting down on one giant knee and taking the princesses’ dainty hand in his big meaty paw, blinking at her dreamily, with the full moon framing them both. A scene straight out of the sappiest of romance novels. She snickered at the thought, covering her mouth with her paw.

And just a few days ago he was ready to throw down with her when she crashed in his castle the first time. To think that a brute like him could be such a hopeless romantic.. He would sweep that princess right off her feet, probably.

Rozaria opened her mouth in a giant yawn, her sharp teeth glinting in the dark room. She spread out her arms, and laid her head on top of them, settling down on the pile of pillows.

“I’m sure he will gloat all about it tomorrow”, she closed her eyes and drifted off.

-----

The sun had replaced the moon some hours ago, its warm rays shining through the window. Rozaria wasn’t exactly asleep but wasnt quite ready to leave her comfy place on top of the pillows. The sun’s rays were rather pleasant on her scales.

A booming noise resonated through the castle. Her feathers stood on end and her eyes flew open. She lifted her head to listen better. It happened again, at some other location In the castle. It was like a bunch of explosions going on.

“Are we under attack?”...

[buckysgrace]

10. Springsteen

Part 10 to Every Little Thing!

CW: Mentions and references to underage sex and abuse! Also blow jobs :)

Then

“Are you okay?” The night seemed to be darker than usual, thick clouds hanging over the high moon to keep the moonlight from shining in. 

It felt odd, different. His mom was gone. No word from her since the day she’d left. Daphne was also gone, a family trip to Florida that he had been wishing he could’ve been allowed to join. Ruby had persisted, only for Roy to shut her down.

He felt like he needed to distance himself from her but was unable to. The more that Roy broke down his innocence, the more he grew irritated with Daphne’s. It wasn’t her fault. She had fiery hair and was decorated in kisses from the sun, but she never came too close to the rays to actually burn. He felt the opposite, like he was sweltering and about to boil over.

Distance never worked. Not even when he said cruel things to her and hung out around girls that were his age. He always came back and she always had a warm smile and kind eyes like she already knew exactly why he did those things.

He felt like his mind was muddled and twisted, fogged over from the confusion of his mom leaving and Nadine stepping up into that role. He didn’t think of her as a mom, Linda was his mom. But he was no longer allowed to talk about Linda. Nor did he understand the things Roy did to Nadine. He was no stranger to Roy hitting Linda, but the different things he did to Linda left his stomach queasy.

“Yeah,” Nadine replied slowly before she glanced towards him, “Just a few bruises. Nothing I can’t handle.” She said cheerily, although the smile didn’t meet her eyes. Gator laid next to her in silence, unsure of how to soothe her worries. He didn’t understand the lessons himself, didn’t understand why things couldn’t have stayed how they were.

“Are you going to leave?” He asked softly, glancing over towards her in a silent prayer that she’d look at him and say no. He had been simmering over this question for a while now, but had been too afraid to ask it. Roy was gone, attending some important conflict that had blazed out of control over night.

“I don’t know.” Nadine kept her eyes trailed towards the ceiling. He joined her, wondering if she was also picking out the different faces that were made from the bubbly ceiling. He did that a lot at night anymore, when his music could no longer die out the screams coming from the next room. 

“My mom left,” He said softly, his throat raw as he spoke. His thoughts stalled before he spoke up again, “She left us.” He clarified a second later, thinking that statement to be true. Linda had treated Nadine like her child. The thought made him a little squeamish, because how could that be true when Roy treated Nadine as an adult? 

“She did.” Nadine confirmed, keeping her eyes peeled towards the ceiling. Despite how dark the night was, he could still see the bruises etched into the side of her face. Her nose was bent a little odd, like it might be broken. 

“Don’t leave me.” He said at last, suddenly fearing what would happen if he was the only one left here. Roy had been harder on him for some unknown reason. Gator wondered if it had to do with Linda leaving, but he thought that was ridiculous. Surely, he hadn’t been the one to drive his mother away. But then again, she hadn’t brought Gator with her. 

“Alright,” Nadine mumbled gently as she turned on her side to face him, “Where would we go?” The corners of her lips twitched softly, just gently enough to give him the hint that she may be smiling. He stared at her, wishing he had some answer to her question. He’d never gone anywhere. He’d been stuck in the same spot his whole life. He’d never been to the beach like Daphne had and he couldn’t even imagine living somewhere that wasn’t nearby. 

“I’ve never thought about it,” He answered honestly, whispering just in case the ghosts in the walls may reveal their secrets, “Just promise you won’t go without me.” He said at last, eventually coming to the conclusion that it wouldn’t matter. He’d find a way to bring Daphne with him. It’d all be alright. 

Nadine watched him for a long moment before she slowly jerked her chin in agreement. She didn’t speak it outloud, but Gator took her word for it regardless.

////////////////////

Daphne came back with her shoulders and cheeks a bright red, her hair a little sun bleached and an excitement to her that Gator couldn’t seem to match. Majority of the time he felt like he was bringing her down, his mind constantly somewhere else as she yammered on about what she had done in Florida.

She’d gifted him a sand dollar, saying that it was supposedly for good luck. The other gift had been a stuffed alligator, barely the size of his forearm. She had flushed and stammered over it, saying that she knew that he was too old for stuffed animals but it had made her think of him. He kept it on the corner of his bed, convinced that it smelt of her. 

They were crowded together in her room, their shoulders touching as the heels of their feet rested up high onto the wall. They’d both sprouted this summer, but his legs were still significantly longer than hers. The fan was blowing on high, trying to keep them cool as they shied away from the hot sun that was blazing across her floor. 

“Have you watched porn before?” He asked before he could stop himself, his own eyes widening to the size of hers as she stared in horror as the rest of her skin burned as brightly as her sunburn. She paused her retelling of telling him how the waves varied at different times of the day, blinking slowly like she hadn’t heard him correctly. 

“What kind of question is that?” She gaped at him, her features turning timid as she quickly glanced away from him. She squirmed under his gaze as he tried to read her posture. 

“A question.” He responded bluntly, his heart hammering a little rougher inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was that inappropriate considering she’d taken to rutting her hips against his leg while they practiced kissing with one another. 

“No,” She spit out, her tongue tangling inside of her mouth, “I have not.” She squeaked out, shaking her head rapidly before she cautiously brought her hands up over her face. She shied away, acting like she wanted to melt away from this conversation. 

“Does your dad have weird things in his room?” He asked at last, still unable to decide if the purpose of it being left out had been for Gator to snoop through it, “Like, not hidden away?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he turned towards her, watching the slow way she dropped her hands.

“What do you mean?” She asked curiously, her blue eyes filled with innocence as she looked forward towards him. He grazed his eyes across her features, his throat suddenly dry as he realized she had no idea about anything he was speaking of. Their fathers may be similar, but it was very evident they lived different lives. She was still in a bubble, unaware of what really happened while she was dreaming. 

Now

“Daphne!” Noelle’s voice rang through the room, her fist banging against the door and rousing Gator from his dreamless sleep, “Did you take my pants?” Gator blinked a few times, his right arm feeling a little numb as he brought his left hand up to his eyes to wipe the sleep away. 

“Shit!” Daphne cursed, frantically jumping up away from his chest. She bounced on the floor, looking around quickly for her pajamas as Noelle continued to slam her fist against the door, “Give me a second!” She yelled loudly, her cheeks burning as she tossed her pajamas on her body backwards, shielding herself away from his eyes.

“She’s always a joy.” He mumbled, his voice raspy as he moved to the side of her bed. He pushed his discarded hair from his forehead, trying to will himself to wake up. He jolted, nearly falling backwards in hopes he could sleep for an extra ten minutes. 

“You have to go,” Daphne muttered as she quickly shoved his clothes at him, “Like now.” She fell to her knees, making him take a sharp intake before he realized she was assisting him in pulling his boxers over his ankles. He was still blinking away the fuzzies in his mind when she slipped his shoes onto his feet. She tugged his boxers up to his knees roughly before she was shoving him off the bed, nearly chafing his legs from how hard she was tugging on his clothing. 

“Let me just-,” He tried to stop her as the knocking continued, the doorknob rattling furiously as he tried to stop to put his pants on. She shook her head, pulling the window open quickly as she tugged his hand towards her. 

“Dress outside!” She squealed shrilly as she pulled him towards the opened window, “I have about another five seconds before she breaks the door down.” She whispered towards him, her blue eyes wide as she pressed her hand against his lower back.

He protested, groaning as she held onto his head and forced him out the window. He shifted awkwardly, holding onto the railing as he looked at her curiously. She popped her head out with him, grinning widely as she pressed her lips sweetly against his.

“See you,” She mumbled softly as she pulled away, looking rather giggly as she chewed on her bottom lip, “Thanks for the dinner.” She added a second later before she disappeared inside of her room. He shook his head, his arms beginning to strain from the awkward way he was holding himself up. 

He shuffled down the side of the house, wincing as he did his best to keep his clothes in his arms without dropping them onto the dirt. He banged his knees against the side of the house, groaning before he roughly jumped the rest of the distance.

Small sparks of pain shot up his feet, through the back of his legs as he quickly tried to straighten himself out. He winced, roughly grabbing his dirty shirt and pants. He felt ridiculous in his boxers, certain that he would never hear the end of this if he was caught.

He paused before he headed around the corner of the house, dipping down low enough to stay hidden from the kitchen windows before he rushed out towards the spare shed. August had taken it over a few years ago, turned it into his own little house. Gator knew better than to think that he would even be up at this hour.

He kicked off his shoes, grumbling underneath his breath as he roughly kicked his feet into his pant legs. He nearly tripped, stalling for a second so he could step off of his pant legs and try again. He shook his head, but still bore a grin on his lips. 

“Mornin’,” Gator jumped, his veins turning cold as he paused his movements. His pants fell back down to his feet as he cursed, quickly trying to pull them up as August snickered, “Beautiful day out.” He commented snarkily, his eyebrows raised in mock confusion. 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Gator stumbled over his own words as he fumbled with his belt nervously, “I was just uh - just stopped over for a suit fitting.” He knitted his eyebrows together, shutting them tightly a second later as he shook his head. August had taken him by surprise, knocking out any good excuse that he may have had. 

“Huh,” August smirked cockily as he pulled his coffee cup up to his lips again, “I didn’t realize you’d be in a suit for the wedding.” He tilted his head a second later, clearly waiting for Gator to dig his hole just a little bit deeper. 

“Right, uh,” Gator pushed his messy strands out of his face, “You know, she just wanted to see how fancy it should be.” He shrugged his shoulders, making a face as if to suggest that it was just a woman thing. He hoped that August would buy the lie. 

“Kinda odd considering you’re not a groomsman,” He responded, clearly getting a kick out of Gator’s misery, “Did she get the right measurement for your dick?” Gator winced, closing his eyes tightly as he finally managed to get his belt looped up. 

“Shit,” Gator groaned, hoping to hide his own embarrassment as he roughly tugged his shirt over his head, “Can you just keep this between us?” He asked, hating how pitiful he sounded as he roughly shoved his shoes back on his feet. 

“It’s none of my business,” August shrugged his shoulders but still bore a shit eating grin, “Oliver will kill you if he finds out.” He responded like it was something to hold over his head. Gator shook his head, not the least bit intimidated by Oliver. 

“He doesn’t scare me,” Gator grumbled underneath his breath. He felt around his pockets for a second, frowning as he realized he must’ve dropped his vape somewhere, “Your dad does.” He admitted, a little worried as to how Bruce would react if he knew about them. 

“I think my dad would thank you,” August said with a shrug of his shoulders, “Fairly certain he’s already planned a few different ways to get rid of Hugh.” He snorted like it was funny, genuinely looking amused as he kicked his legs out and crossed his ankles.

“Yeah,” Gator nodded along, feeling a little nervous as he glanced back to the house, “So uh, this is our little secret then?” He repeated, feeling awkward as he messed with his hair once again. 

“Uh huh,” August smirked up towards him, “I’ll let you know if I need anything.” He replied shortly, holding up his cup of coffee to signal the end of the conversation. Gator paused, not really wanting to get involved in more of his private business before he shook his head. It wasn’t worth getting into. 

He rushed the rest of the way back to his house, feeling like it had taken twice as long as what it had last night. He was hoping he could sneak through the back, quickly pop himself up to his room to change and be out the door for work without anyone noticing. 

“I thought you had the shift this morning?” Gator winced, watching the way Roy stared straight ahead as he leaned against the porch railing. Gator parted his lips slowly, wishing he had a better excuse as he slowly made his way up the steps. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at Roy without the sun blinding him. 

“Overslept,” Gator mumbled truthfully, knowing it wasn’t the first time it had happened, “I’m heading up there now.” He wished he would’ve just gone with his first idea and brought his uniform with him. He could’ve parked far enough away to not be suspicious. He’d been too rushed last night, too worried that she may change her mind to actually prepare for anything. 

“Where were you last night?” Roy looked towards him this time, his hat weighing heavy over his eyes as Gator shifted awkwardly on his feet. He could suddenly recall the first time he’d ever been caught sneaking out. 

“Out,” Gator said slowly, “I had a date.” He replied a second later, knowing that being vague would get him nowhere. Roy seemed to know everything before he even did. 

“You know if you’re not going to stay away from her, you might try a little harder to win her over.” Roy shook his head as he leaned over to spit over the shrubs that Karen had planted. He looked at them curiously for a second, remembering that his mother preferred marigolds. 

“It’s not-,” Gator paused as he rubbed his sweaty palms against his now dirty pants, “We’re just friends. It’s not like that.” He said at last, hoping that he didn’t sound too bitter as he spoke. It was his own fault for allowing Daphne to slip through his grasp. 

“Chasing around a married woman is pathetic.” Roy stated bluntly as he tapped his fingers against the wooden railing before he stood up straight. Gator hesitated, unsure of how he should proceed. He knew it didn’t matter what he said, his father had clearly made up his mind about the subject already. 

“She’s not married, yet,” Gator gulped, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, “We’re just catching up.” He shrugged his shoulders as casually as he could in hopes that Roy would buy it. Gator didn’t even buy his own story. He didn’t view it as catching up, even though he knew that he should. She was getting married. This wouldn’t last long. 

“In her bed?” Roy questioned as he cocked an eyebrow. Gator hated this feeling, hated how Roy just had to give him one look to make him feel like he was beneath him. He didn’t mention that Roy had cheated in the past. 

“We’ve had sleepovers before,” He mumbled underneath his breath, “It’s no big deal.” He felt hot suddenly as the sun dipped against his shoulders, warming his skin through his clothes as Roy scoffed. 

“But whoso committeth adultery with a woman lacketh understanding: he that doeth it destroyeth his own soul,” Roy spoke the lines like they were engraved in the back of his mind, “Does that sound like no big deal?” He asked him seriously, speaking as if Gator was only up to his knee again. Guilt ate at him again but he knew that no matter how many scriptures Roy threw at him, he’d never be able to give Daphne up. Not even if it meant burning in hell for an eternity. 

Roy hadn’t called him a loser in a while, but Gator knew the word was sitting atop of his tongue as his features wrinkled up in a stern manner. Gator’s ego took another blow settling over him as he nodded his head in agreement. 

“No,” Gator answered softly a second later, “It doesn’t.” 

/////////////////////

Work was long and boring. Which left Gator with more time to think about his dilemma with Daphne. He knew it would be easier to just let her go, to forget that anything had ever happened between them than to wait until he finally grew a pair and confessed how he felt. It was eating him alive. 

“Look,” Maude grinned happily as she turned in her seat to face Gator as soon as he walked through the door, “I made all of us.” She replied brightly, holding up a picture with five messy stick figures. He took it softly, bringing the picture up closely so he could get a good look. 

“Oh neat,” He smiled in return as he looked at the picture, “It looks very nice.” He complimented her, enjoying the way her features wrinkled up into pride before she turned away. He glanced around, noticing that Roy wasn’t downstairs yet. He cocked an eyebrow, a little concerned with the amount of food Karen was cooking. 

“Where’s your mommy at?” Jessica looked at him curiously, completely taking him by surprise as he snapped his eyes down towards her. He paused, feeling as if he’d been punched in the gun as he had no idea how to answer her. 

“Girls,” Karen turned towards them, her lips parted in surprise like she couldn’t believe she’d asked that question, “Don’t pester him.” She spoke harshly, glancing over her shoulder like she was afraid Roy was lingering about. It had nothing to do with upsetting Gator, just upsetting Roy. He thought about brushing her off, about telling her it wasn’t that big of a deal. He couldn’t, his bitter memories of his mother suddenly rushing forward.

“I’m gonna wash up.” He said at last, his throat feeling raw and scratchy as he walked out of the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs. Somewhere along the way, his glorious night had turned into a bitter morning. 

He stopped in the bathroom first, roughly twisting the shower knob on as he stripped out of his clothes. He pressed two fingers against his hip, tracing over the D that was etched into his skin. It felt like they had got it done a lifetime ago, even if it had been on a dare. 

He scrubbed at himself hard enough in the shower to erase the bitter taste of his mother’s memories, but not hard enough that he would lose the sensation of Daphne on his skin. He still wanted to feel her, to smell her. 

He sat at the edge of his bed once he was done, feeling a little irritated at how wrong his day had gone. He stared at the floor, wondering if he even had the energy to drag himself down the stairs. 

“Well,” Daphne’s voice made his head snap up, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he peered at her, “I personally think you need a few more bikini models. Just to, you know, spruce the room up a bit.” She replied teasingly as she walked inside, her eyes temporarily lingering against the hole in his wall.

She looked great, like she was drifting across sunshine. Her skin was warm, slightly red as her bright blue eyes drifted across his room. She had her hair pulled back with a white scarf, her red bangs dancing across her forehead. Her dress nearly hit her ankles, but had a slit up to her mid thigh to show off some of her skin.

“What are you doing here?” He asked her surprised, not planning on seeing her so soon again. He blinked at her in disbelief, not thinking that it was best for them to be found when he was only dressed in his boxers. 

“You forgot this,” She grinned bashfully as she held up his vape, “I thought I’d be nice and return it.” She responded cheekily, her lips painted a nice red as she gently placed the vape into his palm. 

“Ah,” He chuckled as he took it from her, “Thanks. Did my dad say anything?” He asked a little worriedly. He knew exactly what Roy would think if he saw them together and Daphne looked this dressed up. 

“No, I didn’t see him. It is Sunday dinner, right?” She asked him softly, knitting her eyebrows together as she looked at him curiously. He glanced down to his left, pressing on his phone to confirm that it was indeed that day. 

“Oh shit,” He said in surprise, “I forgot about that.” He breathed out softly, quickly standing so he could find a pair of jeans that weren’t dirty. His whole day felt like it had been thrown off. 

“I don’t think it’s finished yet,” Daphne commented as she looked at his room. She bent over the desk, examining one of his drawings, “How was work?” She asked softly, her voice ringing like soft melodies in his ears. He glanced towards her, enjoying the curve of her back as he wondered if he’d be able to make out the outline of her panties. 

“Nothing exciting.” He replied back slowly, his eyes dragging across her ass as she slowly stood. She tiptoed a little further, delight crossing her features as she glanced down into the cage in front of her. 

You really got a snake?” She looked over in the cage curiously before she turned back to him, “Can I hold him?” She asked excitedly, her lips spreading into a bright grin as he slowly removed one of his shirts from the hanger. He wasn’t too keen on wearing anything but his pajamas, but he knew Roy would have a fit over it. 

“As long as you don’t plan on feeding him to your cat.” He responded gruffly as he slid the shirt over his head. It was nice enough that Roy wouldn’t complain and casual enough that he wouldn’t feel like he was trapped. 

“I’m afraid that snake isn’t on Birdie’s diet,” Daphne teased softly, “Can I?” She asked again, practically bouncing with excitement as she placed her fingers lightly against the warm cage, her eyes brightening as she turned towards him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” He moved closer to her, nearly tripping over his discarded shoes. He cursed underneath his breath, pretending he didn’t hear her soft laugh as he began to remove the top of the cage, “His name is Rex.”

“Rex,” She repeated curiously as he slowly handed her the yellow and orange snake that had quickly tried to wiggle his way around Gator’s fingers, “He has pretty colors.” She observed as she let the snake dance between her fingers.

“Thanks,” He mumbled, feeling his heart beginning to race as he met her eye once again, “He’s pretty cool. The twins are scared of him.” He mused gently, grinning as he recalled how they’d screamed and cried the first time that they had seen him. 

“Oliver doesn’t like snakes either,” Daphne mused as she sat on the edge of his bed, holding Rex up towards her face so she could get a better look, “It’s because of that crick we used to go swimming in, remember?” She questioned him, her eyes filled with memories as she glanced towards him again.

He nodded his head, all too familiar with the incident. August had driven them to a new spot; had promised that it would be better than the one behind their house. It had been partially true, up until the swarm of water snakes had raced passed them and they’d emerged covered in leeches. Gator had them twice as bad as everyone else; his back was covered, his legs, his chest and nestled between his toes. The last one they had removed from his knee had been so thick and plump that it nearly bursted between August’s fingers. 

“Yeah, I remember,” He mumbled, hiding back his own shudder as he thought of how hard he had scrubbed himself down when he returned home. He had his mom check him over as well, more than once, just to be sure, “Does Hugh like snakes?”

“Hm,” She grinned softly as she turned her dazzling eyes up towards him, “Probably not. He couldn’t handle mice, so I doubt it.” She replied gently, grinning as she handed Rex back towards him. He watched for a moment, enjoying how Rex curled up around his thumb and between his fingers before he slid Rex back into his cage. 

By the time he turned around again, she was resting on her knees in front of him. Her lips curled up into a knowing smirk as she moved her hands forward and slowly popped his button open. He was momentarily too stunned, too taken aback as her warm palm slid over the front of his boxers. 

“Missed you,” She mumbled softly, her blue eyes filled with lust as she stared up at him through thick eyelashes, “Sorry about this mornin’.” She replied as she slowly palmed her hand across his hardening cock. He inhaled sharply, his cock throbbing to life underneath her touch.

“S’okay,” He replied as he felt his lips curling into a smirk, “You can make it up to me, like a good little bitch.” His smirk grew at the way she shuddered as he pressed his thumb against her cheek. She leaned in a little, nuzzling herself against his thumb until she puckered her red lips around his skin.

She kissed his digit softly, slowly flicking her tongue across his warm skin as she pulled his boxers down just enough to free his hardening cock. She wrapped one fist around his girth, squeezing softly as she slowly moved her hand up and down the length of him as he pressed his thumb deeper into her mouth.

He groaned softly, enjoying how eager she was as she hollowed her cheeks around his thumb. She sucked softly, bobbing her head in the same motions that she was dragging her hand along the length of his cock. 

He groaned, slowly pulling his thumb away as her spit followed in a messy trail from his rough motions. She looked up at him with darkened eyes, her hand squeezing around his girth as precum began to slide down his pink tip. 

Her pretty red lips wrapped easily around his thick cock, stretching as the length of him disappeared inside of her warm mouth. He groaned at the sensation of her tongue flicking against his warm skin as she slowly pressed him deeper into her mouth.

Her eyebrows knit together, tightening in concentration as she slowly began to build a rhythm around his cock. She pressed her fingertips against his thighs, holding onto him for support as she gagged loudly when his tip hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” He cursed, groaning as he pressed his fingertips through the hair that rested against the back of her scalp. Her eyelashes fluttered up towards him, a bead of drool dripping from the corners of her lips as she began to move her head more rapidly on his cock, “Such a good slut.” He praised her, his cock beginning to throb at the thought of someone walking in on them. He wondered if she would stop, or if she would let him finish on her tongue. 

He fisted the back of her hair tightly, squeezing as he began to push her head roughly on his cock. He heaved softly, enjoying how wet and warm her mouth felt wrapped around his girth. Her fingertips dug into his flesh a little harder, gripping onto him tightly as he forced her mouth further down against his cock.

Drool fell forth from her lips, soaking his cock and dripping onto the floor. Her eyes held a hold of him tightly, glazed over as his tip continually slid against the back of her throat. She gagged again, a soft moan falling free from her stretched lips as he snapped his hips forward in bliss.

She hollowed her cheeks around him, sucking him in deeper as she licked her own saliva away from his girth. She moved one hand away, eagerly cupping the base of his cock and beginning to squeeze as she inhaled more of him. He groaned a little louder, feeling a rush of pleasure race up his spine as his cock fell heavy against her tongue.

Her gags became a little louder, drool soaking his cock as he felt his movements becoming more desperate. He groaned, his eyes falling shut as he thrusted his hips forward harshly. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting as a whine rolled easily off of his tongue. 

He came harshly, shutting his eyes tightly as he filled her mouth with his warm cum. He panted harshly, his stomach tightening in pleasure as she slowly slid his cock from her mouth. She licked at her lips, gathering his spunk and her drool before she swallowed it all. She looked up at him proudly, her blue eyes filled with delight like she was waiting for his reaction. 

“Messy bitch,” He teased her softly, liking the way she shuddered as he rubbed his thumb across her wet cheek, “You should go clean up.” He said softly, hating that he had to let her go once again. 

“Is it that bad?” She questioned him, grinning as she puckered her lips around his thumb. Her smeared lipstick stuck to his skin, leaving a slight mark as he slowly pulled away. His heart thumped roughly in his chest as he pulled his hands away to adjust himself in his pants again.

“Might be bad for your boy,” He teased her softly, hoping that Hugh could taste his cum on her lips later, “I’ll see you down there.” He responded softly, wondering if she tasted as good as she looked.

He waited a few minutes for her to disappear, pretending to work on his hair as he was sure that she was cleaning herself up. He slightly wished that she’d go down as she was; show everyone who she really belonged to. Not that other asshole. 

Hugh stood a little taller than him, his shoulders a little broader but it was clear that he wasn’t a fighter. He seemed to be too soft, too brittle to ever try anything. Despite knowing that Hugh was a shitty boyfriend, it still made Gator jealous.

Gator hated himself sometimes. He knew that he had more than enough chances to make Daphne his, but he just wasn’t able to fully take that leap. For the most part, his father’s preachings made sense to him. It was the way things were supposed to be but he couldn’t imagine ever striking Daphne. She was too sweet, too kind. He didn’t think it would be right to bruise a face as angelic as hers.

Even now he felt like he was in a trance, in some sort of dream as he watched her from across the room. She was crouched down near Maude, her features contorted into fake awe as she listened to the younger girl ramble on about something. He watched the way her red bangs gently brushed against her forehead, the way her plump lips pulled into an even brighter smile.

He felt a pang suddenly, even though he felt like it was wrong to wish for something that wasn’t able to happen. He didn’t blame Daphne at all, but still wondered what it would’ve been like had she been talking to their daughter instead. She would’ve been about three and he imagined her with thick red hair and Daphne’s matching blue eyes. 

She met his eye, looking up at him curiously as he was still unable to turn away from her. He felt the sickening feeling slowly fading away as his stomach twisted and erupted into butterflies. He felt a warmth traveling up his back and down his legs until he was finally able to turn away from her amused expression. 

“So,” Bruce drew out slowly, still pressing onto Gator’s arm as he pulled him aside, “Have you found anything?” He whispered a little softer, his tone holding a bit of excitement to it. Gator watched him for a moment, thinking about how easily he’d hit Daphne before her engagement party.

“He’s pretty squeaky clean.” Gator responded truthfully as he felt his eyes lingering back towards Daphne. She was standing now, no longer talking to the twins as she faced Oliver instead. He was mumbling about something that must’ve been funny, as her lips curled up and her eyes crinkled in amusement. 

“Damn,” Bruce grumbled, “Figures. All he does is sit around in my house and doodle. I’ll have to pull a few strings then.” He mumbled more to himself, looking frustrated as he rubbed the back of his neck. His statement interested Gator, making him more curious than he should be. 

“Yeah,” Gator rolled his tongue along his teeth, “Doing what exactly?” He asked, shaking his head as he didn’t fully understand. There was only so much he could do and he didn’t think he’d be granted access to wherever the fuck Hugh had rolled in from. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce sighed deeply before he tapped on Gator’s shoulder, “Thanks for the help.” He gave Gator’s shoulder a soft squeeze before he excused himself out of the busy, crowded kitchen. 

He didn’t have a second to think about what he meant before Daphne was strolling over. She looked at him curiously, her hair and makeup back in place like nothing had happened. She looked at him inquisitively, her eyes slightly narrowed. 

“What did he want?” She asked as she approached him. She kicked one of her legs out in front of her and rested both palms on her hips as she stared up at him. He felt his lips twitch in enjoyment, thinking her excuse of a conversation was funny. 

“Nothing important,” Gator replied breezily, not wanting to upset her with how badly her father hated Hugh, “What are you doing?” He asked softly, nodding his chin towards her as she peered at him playfully for another moment. He recognized the look well enough. She’d used it on him a hundred times before when she wanted in on whatever secrets she had been convinced he was hiding. 

“Talking,” She grinned as her previous attitude slid away, “Did you try my veggie pizza? It’s good.” She told him sweetly, her eyes flashing in amusement as she held onto his eye contact. He wondered if she knew the effect on him. He felt like he was in high school again as his face burned and his palms grew sweaty. 

“What are we talking about?” August boosted, the shit eating grin still plastered onto his face as he wrapped his arms around their shoulders and pulled them against him, “Gator and I were talking about how lovely the morning was. Don’t you think it was lovely, Daph?” He asked mockingly, making Gator shut his eyes in frustration as he tried to push him off. 

“It was alright,” She replied as she looked at him curiously, “How come?” She asked, trying to hide the alarm in her eyes as she shot a glance towards Gator. He pulled a stiff smile to his lips, knowing that he had no reassurances to give.

“Nothing,” August replied dumbly, pretending like he wasn’t teasing her, “Did you know he jogs around in his boxers? Right outside your window.” He whispered the last part a little quieter, keeping the secret between the three of them before he started to laugh. Gator fully shoved him off this time, irritated with how immature he was acting.

“Oh,” Daphne’s blue eyes grew large as she stared forward at Gator in disbelief, her cheeks painted a dark red as she quickly gulped, “I see.” She stalled, her face falling a bit as August placed a wet kiss against the side of her cheek.

“It’s okay, baby sister,” August teased as he patted her soft cheek, “This can stay between us.” He told her cheekily, winking before he pushed his way between them. He disappeared towards the living room, feigning interest in the basketball game that was playing.

“You got caught?” She squeaked out softly as she moved her hands over her chest, hugging herself tightly as worry filled her eyes. He watched her for a moment, wondering if it would truly be that big of a deal if they were together. He wished he could shake his memories of her away as he was once again reminded that she didn’t care for him in that manner.

“Someone pushed me out the window without my clothes,” He reminded her, wishing he could find the energy to smile, “S’not that big of a deal. I don’t think he’ll say anything.” He told her honestly, truly knowing that he had too much on August for him to have loose lips. 

“Oh,” She nodded her head slowly as she chewed on her painted lips, looking a little distracted for a moment, “Your birthday is coming up.” She said at last, glancing up towards him with a hint of interest in her eyes.

“It is.” He nodded his head this time, moving in agreement as she seemed to be debating on what she wanted to say next.

“I thought maybe we could go out?” She questioned softly, her eyes widening as she quickly realized how it sounded, “Like all of us. Or just us. Or just us and our friends. You know, whatever you want to do.” She spoke out of panic, nodding her head quickly as her blush traveled down her neck. 

“As friends?” He asked her, feeling a little humored at the way she stumbled over herself. He would’ve never questioned what they were before. Before she left. It was silly, really. He thought that he should be used to people leaving. 

“Best friends.” She said gently, her smile a little shyer as she glanced away from him. The house was loud, filled with raging voices and bustling bodies that slowly seemed to disappear as he inhaled the soft expression on her features. 

“Is your boyfriend going?” He asked her as he blinked slowly, fearing that he may forget the image of her one day. He had a strong urge to reach out and touch her, to feel the way her skin felt underneath his own. 

“Not if you don’t want him to,” She responded timidly, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that no one was listening. She played with her hair for a moment before she found the courage to speak again, “I can think of an excuse.” She mumbled at last, shrugging her shoulders like it was no big deal. 

“Alright,” He answered slow, watching the way her features lit up brightly, “it’s a promise.”

[husbandohunter]

What they love about you (part 1) [Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: It was as if the universe had changed when they saw you.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti x female reader

Part 2 here

(A/n): Okay okay I know I have some requests yet I decided to write something super indulgent. I'M SORRY! This past week I've just been writing so much angst *looks at inbox* AND MORE ANGST TO COME I really need that dose of Vitamin F(luff) 😭

===========================

Noctua's Heartbeat (Diluc)

For a man who had the whole world in the palm of his hand

With looks, fame and all the wealth he could demand

But what stole away his breath was something not to be bought

For it was merely the calming presence of your living and beating heart.

Your heart was a dignity born for empathy, so beautiful and magnificent with the kind of charm similar to white Cecilias blooming across Mondstadt's fields. Diluc would watch from afar, admiring their glow. It shines without reservation, blissfully unaware to a fault that he couldn't help but feel afraid knowing how the real world would simply pluck you from your roots and shape you in the way they wanted to. People who were tainted souls with tainted soles roaming from the shadows, constantly trampling on other's beliefs before leaving them to rot.

Ah but of course, Cecilias are wildflowers. No matter how many times they were stepped on, they could still withsand any force nature throws at them. Whether it'd be raging storms or scorching heat from the summer sky, you were the same through it all. Love. You were in love. You were in love with the wind, you were in love with people, you were in love with the world and everything that lives in it.

And so, Diluc wonders if that was the reason why everything suddenly began to shimmer.

He treaded on a path fated for loneliness while longing for the dawn to appear out of the night horizon-- where emotions once frozen until you came in to melt the ice. He blocked his heart but you tore down those walls. Diluc swore to never feel if it meant protecting himself and yet you held onto his shattered pieces tenderly, dearly, blowing the love of life and teaching it how to beat again.

Your heart was like a fountain of all the hopes he abandoned years ago and the dreams that no one had the courage to envision, cleansing everything within it's reach and freshening them anew. You were a being so in tune with your emotions that it sang through all that you did, laughing despite your obstacles and shedding tears when overjoyed, a single drop it was but still held the depth of the entire ocean. Diluc vows to protect you for your heartbeat was also his own. He'll gladly lay down his life because losing you deemed far worse than any death he could imagine.

~xx~

The other eye of Pavo Ocellus (Kaeya)

The knight's shining armour serves only as a disguise

When beauty from the surface is one's own demise

He used it to protect himself, decorating his words with pretty lies

But unmatched when facing against your truthful eyes.

They say the eye was an open window to a person's true colours. If that were the case then the painting inside him must have been an unsightly one.

Every once in a while the people of Mondstadt would speak about their Cavalry Captain's eyepatch, whether he was injured after being sent out on a mission or if he wears it for the sake of image. No one knows, it was rather unsettling, why someone would cover their eye despite not being injured. Secrets? Perhaps. Kaeya was known to be a man shrouded in mystery after all.

Your gaze was his Death After Noon. Sparkling upon the surface yet with the tasteful allure so captivating that it was almost dangerous. Just one glance and he was intoxicated, eventually leading to a slip of the tongue, revealing what was buried deep within his contaminated essence. Kaeya hated that you had the uncanny ability to see through his mask. Your innocence so contrasting, he felt like looking into a mirror, reminding just how much of an ugly person he truly was in comparison.

But mirrors are easy to break, no?

The thought delivers a sinister smile on his face. Pitiful-- is the state where you were. Pitiful-- it's what he is. How could he think of such things when all you offered was kindness? Unlike Kaeya, you were an honest person, always wearing your emotions on your sleeve and unaware of the devil's vicinity. He was tempted by the invite to crush you and run away like the coward he was meant to be. However as he stares deeply into your eyes he realized they weren't made of glass. They were gems. The most precious gems hardened by the pressures of experience.

In the shine of thine eyes resides the stars and the moon as if stolen from the Abyss, leading to the edges of the universe that was blessed within your mind. The look of curiosity filled with rich hues all held by a soulful stare while they pierced through the armour shaped around his heart. It was your ability to recognize beauty amongst the most wretched of things that he fell so hopelessly in love with you because for the first time someone had seen him-- his flaws and his faults, his abyss painted darker than black but loved him despite it all. As he drowns himself in the world of your gaze, Kaeya prays to never be the one who will steal away those stars or moon because they looked the most beautiful on you.

~xx~

The Winged Nemesis who flew towards the Sun (Xiao)

He looks at your face as if he saw spring for the first time

An unsual encounter, wondering how could something be so sublime

The yaksha stands upon the corpses while reaching for the sky

Seeing the sun in your smile that he wishes to fly

Xiao has dealt with the cards of death and won through many of it's games. But his life was a gamble as the karmic binds may one day bring the same fate that was done upon his comrades-- insanity, murder and corruption. So he swears an oath to his god and himself, ensuring the darkness only he could bear does not seep into the light.

A gust of wind sways in when you pass by, he was struck by pensive bewilderment because happiness was a feeling unknown to him. It was the expression you made whenever you greeted him good morning. The complexion you had while charging through life's challenges. And the face you wore even during the times where there was no reason to smile. Xiao has felt the might of the sun for her light will never be exstinguished by his darkness, he could only succumb to it.

But you were not just the sun, you were the flowers that bloomed beneath her heavenly sky and the birds that chirped upon those earth-like trees. You were a whole new world he didn't dare to touch because dreams were delicate and his cursed self would only devour them until nothing was left. Still, the mighty sun shines through it all, stretching out her rays like a welcoming embrace until the universe had been revitalized, giving birth to new life after winter's storm.

If pictures told a thousand words then he had a thousand reasons and more to love you. Xiao witnessed the sweetest joy decorated by pink petal blossoms dancing around him, the one who pulled him out of his spiraling trance of darkness. The breath he takes no longer felt suffocating and instead was replaced by the smell of nature's greatest gifts: you. Stay away, he says, because there were times where you shone so brightly that he had to look elsewhere. Your rays burned him and he thinks it might drill holes into his wings. Painful it may be but if the splendor of spring could only be admired after the harsh cold snow, then maybe pain and love were only two sides of the same coin.

A world without the sun--such unfathomable thoughts--is a death he does not wish to deal with.

~xx~

A song she sings for the God of Wind (Venti)

Man lives by the power of the tongue,

Whatever Man speaks is aligned with Man's choice.

Hearken when she talks for her words are to be sung,

Because not only was she lovely but so was her voice.

-Venti

There were many reasons why Venti loved music. The freedom to express oneself when words weren't enough, allowing one's spirit to flow out of their mouth and be with the wind. It was the feeling he had when he listened to you because your voice was sweeter than any song he sang or played.

When you speak it was as if the world around you danced, bringing them to the mercy of your stage. Like standing upon the soft grass while letting the sparks of dandelions dust against his own skin, Venti would close his eyes as he hears you speak-- it was you, just you and that was all he needed. He swears that no one in the world could sound as living as you did because it was the words you say that stole his heart away.

The vibration in your tone was fleshed with kindness yet so sure and firm to the point it could even bring a god to his knees. If he were a sailor then you were the siren, enchanting him with your bell-like voice and bringing him to a territory where he can never escape from. It was the spell of your divine song, his Carmen Dei, that tricked the trickster. Venti did not mind as long as he was able to feel the blessing amongst his ears.

[randomrosewrites]

Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

..

.

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

..

.

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.

[pen-observing]

request: baker mc with barbatos. + how you came to know and bicker with the man that looks like love.

MASTERLIST

People find joy in doing the things that they love and, right now, your joy is waking up earlier to see the sun’s rays against the counter of the bakery. They’re so beautiful to bask in and so rewarding once you remember all that it took just to be able to come into such a place. It takes real work.

However, the sun’s rays on this particular morning touch something else. They shine upon a sleek black envelope that was placed right in the middle of your counter.

How did it get here? You’ve always locked your door out of responsibility. Surely nobody managed to break in or something similar? Everything looks in order and nothing is stolen. With this, there is simply no reason for you not to open the little ‘gift’ that was there. Right?

Being a famous baker meant that sometimes you did receive letters but never in such a manner or such a style. They were usually in pastel envelopes; written by little kids with lots of doodles, sprayed with some overwhelming floral scent. And, they were charming indeed but this was allure inside of mystery.

You sit down at the table close to the window and open the envelope carefully. Sometimes you think that anyone who works in your business and actually manages to succeed has to have some childlike innocence. When kids are the only ones writing you such letters it makes sense.

You lay the delicate piece of paper and start to read.

Allow this letter not to alarm you in the slightest. I have come to notice some others on your counter a few days ago and deemed this to be the best way to approach you with an inquiry. Please, read it completely before you make your final judgement.   Do you happen to believe in the afterlife? Do you happen to be religious yourself?   Even if the answer to these two questions is a resounding no (which I have no way of knowing, I assure you) - please consider this offer.   You have been chosen as someone who can help create a bigger order amongst the three realms. We, my young Master in particular, believes in the power that can bring about a more harmonious coexistence. We have already had humans come to our domain but expansions have started because of that previous success. I hope this manages to assuage your initial feelings and any possible fear you might have. We are demons, I must say. I believe there is no use in lying or manipulating you because we are approaching you with a noble idea and goal that you can help come to fruition. We are inviting humans that are experts in their fields to teach us even more and you have been chosen as one of them.   If you hold any interest, please proceed to sign your name at the bottom right of this paper. If, however, you are not interested or are afraid – please place it back inside the envelope and it will automatically become ash.   Discard it carefully. I urge you not to get hurt.

Now you wish that this letter was full of doodles with a cupcake in the middle of the sun. Who was pulling such a prank? Was this a lousy attempt of the baker 2 streets down to intimidate you for the upcoming cake contest? You have to give him credit for his imagination at least.  

Who does he think he is to challenge you? Did he assume you would be afraid? Perhaps, you always were a bit too spiteful for your own good. And with that spite growing – you signed your name at the bottom right.

No need for fire and ash. No need to be scared of anything that this foolish letter stated. Right?  

“I would like to extend my outmost thanks for signing the letter.”

What? What was that voice? Fucking hell, how big is the joke the other baker is playing? You will be sure to leave him a 2 star review because only his cookies were decent but all you can do right now is turn around to the direction of the deep voice.  

10 steps behind you, and next to your entrance door, stands a man that reminds you of the moon. He has perfect posture and an overwhelming presence. He holds a hand over his chest and looks at you with eyes that cause reminiscence – you always wanted to get lost in such a magical sea.  

He is smiling at you but once he notices the shocked expression, he stops and raises one eyebrow. You’re both quiet. Well, this certainly is not that annoying baker. So, maybe, perhaps, possibly, in some way: the letter was not a joke?

“Please don’t tell me you did the same impulsive thing as the human that is a writer. Did you, by any chance, sign this letter thinking it was a joke?”  

Obviously, you fucking did. I mean come on?? Three realms?? Demons?? Who would believe such a thing? Really, your spite got the best of you.

“You are not answering and I suppose that much is an answer in itself. Before you express a desire to cancel it out, I have to let you know; that is a legally binding contract and if you try to break it the punishment will be severe. When I say legally binding, I mean by the laws of hell itself. But, do not be alarmed. Please.”

The personification of the moon asks if sitting at the table would be okay and begins to explain to you all of the things in detail. He does it with clear words and you can’t help but believe that this idea seems promising. And this man, while cold and collected, does not seem like a threat.

Truthfully, you have achieved such a big success already. Baking is art and as an artist it was always the main goal. Learn more. Consider yourself a student as long as you live. Be sure to take any opportunity because it means growth. After all, you’ve gotten this far using those ideals. Wouldn’t it be a shame to throw them away now?  

“And rest assured. You will be completely safe in the Devildom. I have been personally tasked with assuring your safety.”  

You’ve come to learn that his name was Barbatos – meaning philosopher in some old book you’ve read. It is so odd that someone new seems so dependable. Because of this you ask him the question any sane person would.

“Would you like a cupcake?”  

Yes, that indeed is the question any sane person would ask in your field. You already know there is no way to back out of this; not unless you wish to endanger your life. So, why not start an adventure if you already must?

You give Barbatos a cupcake and turn the sign to closed before going back behind the counter. The sign won’t change in the following year until you are free from the damned contract. You get overwhelmed with the realization that the sun’s rays will seep in but have nobody to actually greet once you leave. You realize how much you are going to miss this place. How are you supposed to leave it behind just like that?  

You touch your pocket and take out your phone. If you must leave and abandon this, then so be it – but you will have some tangible memories of your dedication. You need to have some tangible memories of this glowing morning.  

You start to take photos. Of what?   The bowl of small chocolates that people can grab on the way out and bring to others that they love. The door decorated with flowers. The very counter you stand behind and the rays of light that are on it. The seating arrangement, the wall with your achievements, clippings from magazines, newspapers and reviews.   Yes, you even take a photo of the child’s drawings with a cupcake inside of the sun. How ridiculous. And, oh, how much you’re going to miss this.  

The very last photo you take is of Barbatos. He is sitting at the table, looking outside the window. Maybe you shouldn’t but – he looks like he belongs here for whatever reason. And, deep down, you wish to remember him like this. Inside of a peaceful moment. You press the click and he turns around. He doesn’t say anything – he offers a slight smile. In that moment you freeze and realize that in his peaceful moment the smile reminds you of childlike love.  

Perhaps the following year will not be so bad after all.  

-

“They call you the best in all of the three realms?” “Indeed.” “You put lemon-honey- syrup in your baklava. I refuse to believe you deserve it.”

Just because he reminds you of the moon and the deep waters; just because he gives you peace – it does not mean that professionally you will allow yourself to be inferior to him. Finding comfort with slight bickering became your idea of heaven and light in this place of darkness and hell-fire.

[littlefreya]

The Way to Hell - Part 13

Summary: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escaped Ethan Hunt with his face intact and just won himself the title of being the most dangerous man on earth. Brooding as he is, August is unwilling to back down on his murderous agenda he plots to continue where he was stopped.

Series Completed: Previous Chapter | | Chapters Masterlist | Next Chapter

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild) 🖤

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Mentions of sexual encounters, child neglect, betrayal, hinted physical abuse,  foul language and lots of angst.   

A/N: I thought chapter 13 will be the last one, but I didn’t want to rush the ending or have a chapter too long. So for those of you still waiting, hang in tight! Many thanks to @agniavateira​ who’s my muse and my editor, to @raspberrydreamclouds​ for this amazing cover and to those who’s been asking me about the chapter, means a lot to me. I am going into my usual Way to Hell posting panic attack. So bye for now.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Please comment, review and reblog.  💖

Title: Paradise lost

There cannot be peace before first a great suffering.  There cannot be love without first a great tragedy.

~*~

Opaline droplets of sweat form on his forehead. In his ears, a constant buzzing rings wretchedly as if an angry hornet is caged inside his skull. What was long buried abruptly awakens, stabbing at the back of his head. Red flashes sear through his eyes while images of Ingvild dissolving to ashes play in his mind, her bloodsoaked feathers crumbling to the ground.

“Why did you go?” August mutters under his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He crumples the little yellow note with sheer frustration before throwing it on the bed. 

‘I told her not to go, I commanded her!’

The air in the room grows thick like the pit of a stygian forest. Tentacle-like branches appear behind his eyes creeping closer, clutching his limbs. Even though lost and abandoned in the thicket of his mind, her angelic scent still lingers on his skin, impossible to wash off. Sniffing at his biceps, he inhales the mixture of their union on his flesh;  what begins as euphoric mirth quickly meets the sharp edge of rage and hatred.

She’s gone and it gnaws at the dark matter of his brain. 

He hates it. 

Hates her for being absent.

Frowning deeply, August reaches a rigid hand for his clothes, forcing himself to get dressed. The very first memory of her hinges on his mind: An icy woman with silver-moon eyes who refused his pursuit. 

‘Did you think the two of you are going to ride toward the sunset together? That’s not you.’

Letting out heavy gasps, he shakes his head. “She’ll be fine,” he whispers dismissively, pulling on his trousers and hastily buckling his belt. 

The new world order awaits, so close he can feel the fresh sun sitting on his open palm. It is his vision, his legacy: bigger than whatever it is Ingvild and him have together. 

There was no her in his plan, to begin with. 

The Devil never had a queen. 

‘You know what they’ll do to her…’

Another ray of daytime terror cuts through his thoughts: her wings plucked from her back, threads of flesh tearing from her naked body. Her screams die in silence.  

“She chose to leave, I asked her not to!” August yells into the empty room, frowning at no one but himself as he grabs the used shirt which hangs from the tall mirror. Turning to his reflection, he tenses at the sight of his body. Crimson valleys lead down his back, courtesy of her claws branding deep into soft tissue and toned muscles.

‘Do you know what is the probability of finding someone like her? A woman who wants to see the world burn with you? Who believes in your cause of building a new one?’

August swallows hard and combs his fingers through his hair with haste, attempting to act normal through the intensifying drumming in his ears. Being completely methodical, he pulls his long trench coat over his shoulders and collects his belongings into his black duffle bag on the bed. With a heavy painful breath, he forces his thoughts away, zipping the bag with urgency and reciting in his mind everything necessary for his trip. Time is scarce, the end and the new beginning are nigh; the smart thing to do is to forget her, erase her existence from the chambers of his heart. 

He doesn’t have one anyway. 

His hand secures the gun in its holster and harsh fingers lace around the black straps of his bag as he stretches himself straight, ready to leave this bedroom. That’s when his eyes fall again to the crumpled yellow note. 

‘You’ll never see her in Kashmir, you’ll never see her again.’ 

~*~

‘Amazing,’ the silver-haired wolf muses while scratching his bristly jaw. For 13 years the evil spawn’s eyes remained exactly as they were the day he picked her from the orphanage. Grey crystal orbs so naive, clueless, and oh so hungry for validation. A child desperate to prove herself worthy to someone, anyone. 

It was her single flaw and his greatest advantage.

Even now in the bloom of adulthood, the pale, scrawny thing standing before him is nothing but a lost little girl who wants someone to hold her bony hand. 

‘How can someone be so smart yet at the same time so blind?’

The cheap motel room smells like mildew and rotten wood. Speckles of dust float between the handler and his prodigy, cascading over his glance that seems rather alien and naked as glass. It pierces through her muscles - this sudden sense of peculiarity and estrangement.     

She chews the inside of her cheeks and sways slightly on her spot, arms hanging loose at her side. Ingvild lifts her chin to look at Liam, her eyes round with what can only be guilt. It makes her look like a child who broke an antique vase. 

“Thank you for answering my call,” she begins, wrapping her fist around a disposable phone before throwing it on the tidy bed.

Liam scoffs and shakes his head, ridicule spreading on his face. “You’ve gotten yourself into trouble over a boy, child?” He stares up and down the young woman, noticing the obvious change in her posture.

‘So, she truly is a woman now; how did I not see this one coming with her constant chatter about how handsome he is when I handed her the dossier?’

“Please don’t tell me you need money to get an abortion.” 

Ingvild frowns with disgust and shakes her head right away. “Never. No, it’s not what I’m here for.”

Displeased as always, Liam emits his usual grunt. He slowly shakes his head at his asset while running his fingers through his lanky grey hair. This is not how he imagined this mission to end. Her lack of emotions was a key element; Ingvild could have had a few good years running several missions for him, but what tipped the scale was for her to run into the wrong psychopath.

“Then tell me Ingvild, why should I listen to a failed assassin such as yourself? You’ve been weird about this mission since day one. Acting discreet, irresponsible, and reckless,” the old man’s Adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat as he speaks. Taking a small stride, he moves closer to get a better look of her diamond irises. So sharp and so strange, they’ve always irked him. As a child she downright looked like something out of a horror movie. 

“You’ve had 445 successful missions, not even 30 years old. Yet here you are a failure, and for what? For a boy?”

Shame traps her tongue and her glance drops to the floor. Failure stings like a rod of hot iron piercing her beating heart. Yet her mind races to the night at the pit where August finally claimed her, the memory of his lips sets glowing embers through her veins. On her skin remains the evidence of his embrace. Microscopic cells, tinted by his DNA. 

She doesn’t want this feeling to go away. 

Liam clears his throat, tearing her away from memories that turn from tar to honey the longer she dwells on them.

“You know why your mother gave you away, Ingi?” Liam asks, giving her a ghastly sardonic smile while cocking one eyebrow.

‘Liam never smiles.’ 

A small frown sets creases above her freckled nose. “I asked you many times before and you always said you don’t know.”

The Dane scoffs at her, his smile widening, exposing cigarette-and-coffee-stained teeth. The rot around his gums makes her curl her nose slightly and flinch as he leans closer. 

“You were a rape baby.”

The words send a pang through her muscles, like stepping on glass. She shakes her head with protest and steps back, yet Liam nods knowingly, standing in front of her.

“You’re lying.”

His small hazel eyes burn holes through her skull, his smile sinister and impish. “Your father was a savage, a rapist. He left your poor mother half-dead and impregnated in the forest you love so much. Who knows, maybe that’s why you kept going there as a child, reconnecting with your true nature.” 

Refusing to listen, she shies from his piercing glare. Liam reaches a coarse hand to cup her jaw, forcing her face back to his. “Your mother hated you. Your very existence reminds her of the most terrible thing that ever happened to her.”

For a child with such a limited emotional range, Liam finds that the muscles of her face are capable of stretching thoughtfully with spite. Pent up hatred creases her brow, her silver eyes turning to hot, molten gold. She bites on her tongue, keeping a vow of silence but he can read her face just the way an assassin would. 

“Nothing but a mistake, disowned by your own mother. So why would this man, this... mass murdering psychopath love you?” Liam shifts her head from side to side, inspecting the healing cuts and bruises that decorates her pale skin. “He saw an opportunity and seized it, used you…”

He pauses, moving away from a stare colder than icy lake water, “just like they will.”

Ingvild parts her lips with wonder, glaring at the person she knew all her life with disbelief. In the glossy reflection of Liam’s honey-brown eyes, she sees several black, long rifles pointed at her head.

Liam curls his thin lips with an utter lack of remorse and shrugs indifferently.

“She’s yours.”

*~*~

If colours had sound then the pale blinding white would be a continuous high-frequency hum. The tunes and shades of death. Like angry flies feasting on a corpse. 

‘Is this Valhalla?’

A small groan escapes her mouth, her eyes hurting from the sickly radiance of the narrow fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling. Her wrists feel numb as they’re pulled behind her back in restraints. 

“No,” she opens her mouth to speak, her throat burning, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Definitely not Valhalla...” 

‘You need to be a hero to enter Valhalla, stupid girl.’

Stupid didn’t even begin to describe it. August would never let her hear the end of it.

Loud, angry steps tap on the white marble floor, growing louder as the person approaching enters the room. Ingvild blinks, peering at the silhouette when a smile of comfort paints her drowsy face. Like a god, her lover strides toward her with his usual confidence. His ocean-blue eyes beam at her sight, his palm spread open to embrace his tiny Valkyrie. She chuckles at the mischievous, charming grin on his face as it reminds her the day they first met. 

Oh, she wishes to nibble his stupid chin right now and brush her fingers along his thick moustache.

But as she blinks again, large brown almond-shaped eyes replace the ocean-blue. A panther of a woman stands before her: confident, strong, and impossibly beautiful. Her dark, succulent lips are pressed together and concern shines through as she observes the small woman who has her arms cuffed behind her back and her feet shackled to the metal legs of the chair. 

With her head still heavy, the assassin turns her face from side to side. She quickly observes the armed guards at the entrance, the tall, greying agent standing nonchalantly against the wall awaiting orders, and lastly the sickly-looking, lean man who is positioned at the fore of a metal desk with his fingers laced together. Anticipation is written all over his line-riddled face. 

“Erica Sloane,” Ingvild calls knowingly, the ghost of a wicked smile dancing on her chapped lips as she turns her head to face the CIA director. Dressed in a black power suit and crimson pumps, the director is drenched with big dick energy.

“August told me so much about you, but he didn’t mention how fuckable you are.” Ingvild drawls, fluttering her lashes as she scans her from head to toe. 

Tilting her head, Erica grabs a white plastic chair and places it in front of Ingvild. She then takes a seat, crossing her long smooth legs together. Kindness and motherly concern pours from her dark eyes, expressions Ingvild never received from anyone in her life.

“Poor child, I imagine August Walker filled your head with many stories.”

“No…” Ingvild swallows, trying to dampen her sore throat. Noticing her struggle, Erica snaps her fingers and the greying agent rushes to bring her a plastic cup of water like a loyal dog. Focusing on the translucent beads around the cup, Ingvild flicks her tongue over her lips. “August was too busy filling other parts of me.”

The intrepid woman begins to laugh at her own joke, her voice dragging groggily while Erica rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“I imagine so.” She answers and then carefully tilts the cup to Ingvild’s lips, offering the drink to the girl who sips with desperation as if she walked the desert. “August was my best agent,” she explains, watching the stream of water that rolls down Ingvild’s chin as she gulps with an incredible thirst, “a really proficient assassin, ranked high in every mission I sent him to. My golden boy. Even though that shit-eating attitude of him was something else...”

Withdrawing the cup, she looks into Ingvild’s cold silvery stare. “Those snarky, arrogant remarks and him going through the whole department like a fox in a hen coop I could overlook. But that fucker had us all fooled, Ingvild, as he fooled you.”

Ingvild flutters her dark lashes and tips her chin up. Her defined cheekbones sharpen even more as a snake-like arrogance poisons her face. “August told me what you did,” she utters sincerely, while Erica commands the agent to refill the plastic cup. Loathing melts her beautiful sullen glaciers as she focuses on Erica. 

The CIA director narrows her eyes at her in return, and curls her lips downward as disdain fills her mouth. “I am not the one who made Walker murder Agent Hartmann, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You deceived him,” Ingvild retorts calmly and sucks in her bottom lip, collecting the remaining droplets of water onto her tongue. “That’s what you and your little agencies do to people like us. Set up traps for predators and pretend to act surprised as they eat the bait.”

Holding the cup, Erica stares at the young woman thoughtfully, the burning hatred in her eyes reminding her so much of Agent Walker: An entitled spoiled brat, thinking he can wind the world to the direction only he sought to be right. 

“You can’t blame a predator for following its nature, and you can’t expect him to behave otherwise.” 

“Is that how you see yourself?” Erica asks, moving the cup away, though she can see the thirst on Ingvild’s gaping bottom lip. “August poisoned your mind but I assure you, you are not the monster he is. You never had the choice that he did.”

Erica’s voice suddenly becomes soft, and her big brown eyes become round with care that only a parent can express. But the only form of parent Ingvild ever had was Liam, and he was never much of a father, was he? It took less than a few hours for him to give her away. 

She wonders how long it took for her real mother.

Her gaze drops, peering at Erica’s shiny crimson shoes as they counter the lifelessness of the floor like blood in the snow. Memories whisk her away again, a man in pursuit of a woman deep in an icy forest. She should have died that night and yet here she is, shackled to a chair. The voice of the man who saved her echoes through her head with a fair warning: ‘Liam never gave a flying fuck about you.’

Sharp as a needle, it pricks her heart.

“I know what Icarus did. Moulding you into the perfect assassin, depriving you of the childhood and the life you deserved.” Erica’s voice cuts into her trail of thoughts, making her raise her gaze back to the beautiful woman. “Now, I don’t know what twisted fantasies August may have offered but I can assure you, they are empty just like him. You read his file, you know what he’s capable of. Looking at your scars and bruises I assume he hurts you for his own sick pleasure, taking advantage of a woman who only wants to be loved.”

‘She doesn’t know him like I do, the way he drank my lips and called me his angel, the way his fingertips beat the warm blood in my arteries.’ Ingvild shuts her eyes, soaking in the remnants of his touch as it still ghosts across her body.

Erica’s kind, tepid hand wraps around the young woman’s jaw, lifting her pale face with the cautiousness of a human tending a wild creature. Grey and dark-brown collide at the seams as they share a silent stare.    

“If you’ll give us his location, we can arrange for your freedom and protection.”  

Ingvild breaks away from Erica’s grip, pushing herself back in the chair as much as she can. The screech of metal against marble makes the guards cringe. Slow and cold, a sardonic chuckle begins to burst from Ingvild’s lungs. The laughter echoes off the walls while she shakes her head with disbelief. 

“Do I look like a dumb bitch to you? Even if this was true, do you think I’m willing to be a slave to another government? Kept ignorant and tabbed? I’d rather rot in this cell while my beautiful monster dismantles your old world order.”

Drops of water splash at her face as Erica squashes the plastic cup in front of her, sulking with fury. Her eyebrows knit together and she purses her lips as if this young woman is something sour on her tongue. 

Evidently, Liam was right; the girl is far too gone, living in the little fantasy world August built for her. 

“If you think he ever cared about you for a split second, then you are a dumb bitch. No matter how this plays out, you and August are never going to end up happily ever after.” Erica spits, holding her finger at Ingvild’s childlike frown. “He’s never going to come for you. You were nothing but a toy, a plaything for him to pass the time.”

Ingvild scoffs and rolls her eyes, refusing to let these words cut into the beating muscle in her chest. 

`Stick and stones may break my bones...’

Solid, slender fingers wrap around her jaw, squeezing around her cheeks like a big spider. She is met with Erica’s long lashes, while those deep brown eyes slice into her soul. 

“You might think you know him, but I’ve worked with August long enough to know that he never loved anything other than his precious ego. So I would consider this as your final chance little girl, because if you don’t talk right now - this nice fellow here...” Erica pauses and gestures her head to the scrawny man who begins to hum a blissful tune while cracking his knuckles. Twisted excitement shines through his beady eyes as he glances at the set of sharp surgical tools lying on the desk.

“He’s going to make you sing like the precious bird you are.”

Fear shies from Ingvild’s stoic, icy face. The well-lubricated gears in the labyrinth of her head begin to work, observing the possible escape options and scanning every cavity, crease, and man in Erica’s lovely torture chamber.  

The door suddenly bursts open. A man in his mid thirties with bright red hair and a freckle-covered face rushes in, huffing heavily. His pink skin glistens with sweat, the strands of his fiery hair sticking on his large forehead while his hand holds onto his chest with distress. 

“Sloane, there is something you need to see…” he opens his mouth breathlessly.

“Not now!” Sloane snaps at him, looking at Ingvild with contempt. There is nothing she wishes more than to avoid torturing a young woman, especially someone as misguided as this poor porcelain doll. All she needs is to make her see the truth, that August never cared for her, that she was just another pawn in his grand scheme. 

“Director, I am sorry, but you really need to come and see this.” 

Agitated, Erica snaps in her chair to look at him. “What is it, Agent Louis?”

“It’s John Lark’s manifesto, ma’am…” he sighs, shoulders slumping, “it’s… it’s everywhere.”

A shivering hiss escapes her mouth. The shiver that graces the rail of her spine is like a shower of icy water, making her slowly rise from her chair. August’s harmful “poetry” is released into the air like toxic gas, contaminating every fragile little mind in an already unstable world.  

“Do you like my little surprise?” Ingvild asks, making the baffled woman turn to gaze at her. There’s a malicious little smile dancing across her eyes, her brows lifting with an arrogance that strongly resembles Agent Walker. 

Swallowing hard, the CIA woman takes a step back, tugging her jacket straight and looking at the torturer who lifts a small hammer between his pliable fingers. 

“Break her, until she talks.” 

The harsh tapping of her heels dies down and her silhouette becomes smaller until it disappears behind the shutting door. 

“Pretty girl...” The man’s voice is brittle and thin as he is, every word ending with a slight snake-like hiss. He moves to scrutinise her from head to toe, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip with a prying nature. 

“You know August used to mock me…”

“I can see why,” she spits out, looking back at him with both fearlessness and utter disrespect. She killed men bigger than him, hell, August’s kneaded her to submission and his torture was nothing but sweet. 

She can take him on, she can take all of them on.

The lean man beams at her, holding up the small shiny hammer and running his finger over the rim pervertedly. The dead skin around his nails rouses disgust in her gut, yet she rolls her eyes and fakes a yawn.

He chuckles at her theatrics and kneels in front of her with one unstable hand pressing onto her thigh. His revolting fingers scratch gently at her denim, making her shiver. If August knew another man was laying his finger on her… 

But August is not here.

“Well… shall we begin, little bird?”

***

‘When this world ends and the new one begins, what will be of your little Valkyrie? Merely bones and rotting flesh laid in an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere and mourned by no one. Won’t you be jealous of the insects feasting on her narcotic tissue?’

Cold air seeps through his nose as sharp bullets of hail hit the ground with the fury of angry gods, shattering onto the ruins of an old bridge with a loud, clattering noise. Sheltered from the rage of the heavens, August stands beneath the wreckage, facing the men who came to make the final exchange. 

Blue and green ferns have grown over the decaying surroundings, climbing over rusted metal. Nature reclaiming its place over man’s occupied space. Justice and beauty in decadence and rot. 

‘Memento mori.’

“The plutonium,”  August demands, his thick brows shadowing his eyes in a battle to remain composed. Those same parasitic visions of sheer terror burden him like a daytime nightmare: pale as porcelain, she sinks to the bottom of a lake thick with blood. His hand reaches out for her, fingers trying to grasp whatever he can but she slips away. 

‘How far do you think Erica will go this time?’ 

A rogue droplet of sweat glides languidly down his temple, crossing over a bulging tendon. Unfortunately quite apparent to the three men who scrutinise him with wonder: two well-paid bodyguards and a slimy-looking slug, wearing a dark business suit that does nothing but emphasize his fragile masculinity. 

“The money first!” The businessman whines, attempting to make a tough face.

‘A cock and two balls.’ August jests and does his best to remain indifferent while anxiety threatens to claw its ugly talons in his throat. The seller’s receding hairline is thick with dandruff, his dull green eyes attempt to mimic confidence, as a beta male would do when facing a pure alpha, trying to compensate for lost dignity.  

‘I don’t have time for this,’ August huffs, his chest puffing and the immense shoulders stretching even wider, exhuming his natural overpowering dominance. His patience runs brittle as a dry twig. A restless throb thunders between his ears like a scab, latched inside his brain. 

The slug pries his mouth open to speak, yet his voice becomes dull as if the world just went underwater.

‘Do you think she’ll go as far as to let her men touch her? You know, not just the usual torture they put interrogated suspects through, but the type of touch only you are allowed to.’

‘She doesn’t have the balls, she won’t do that to another woman.’ 

‘Won’t she? It’s personal this time. Erica knows what you are capable of. And your Ingvild, she’s an apostle too now, an enemy of the world…’

Fever burns at his sweaty forehead and his lungs gradually collapse. Visions he can’t even bring himself to imagine attempt force their way into his mind. The yapping of the man who stands in front of him goes on and on; while August can feel himself speak in response, the words spouting from his lips are on autopilot. 

All he can think of is her, stripped naked, torn to shreds by dark shadows.   

‘She holds back a lot, but when she slips, aren’t her screams so beautiful? Her pleasant little voice, stretching so melodically, like skin over bone, thin and light.’

“Shut up!”

All eyes lift to August in silent bewilderment. His fists tighten, nails digging into his coarse palms as the will to rip someone to shreds beats through his blood. These men will be no more than a casualty. 

“Do you know who I am?” He asks in a deep, menacing tone, his hand but a second from reaching his holster. By measured calculation, he already anticipates how quickly he would shoot them one by one without so much of a scratch on his cheek.

“I’m John, fucking, Lark. My apostles are awaiting orders this very instance,” he reaches for his phone, ignoring the flinch in their posture as he draws it from his pocket and shakes it in his hand on display, “and you want to stand here in this shit weather and measure dicks? Spoiler alert,” he takes a stride in front of the little man, careless of his bodyguards who reach for their weapons, “mine is far bigger.”   

The seller peers at him silently, noticing the icy crust of rage in August’s glare. His pale eyes cut like diamonds while the shadow of his brooding figure falls upon the small man’s face. 

“You will get your money once I get to see the plutonium and confirm it’s authenticity,” August calls out assertively, each word distinguished, each syllable emphasised and sharp as a blade. Death is no longer an enemy to August Walker but an old friend, and those trolls under the bridge are a mere joke to the inferno he’s been basking at his entire life.

‘Limb by limb, feather by feather, while you waste your time...’

‘She wanted me here, she wanted me to secure the plutonium. If I don’t do this, it will all be for nothing.’

‘So now you are doing this for her?’

Not saying another word, the seller nods and snaps his fingers. Agitation is evident on his face yet the violence emanating from August forces him to bite down his pride. One of his henchmen approaches with a suitcase and opens it up to show August the orbs.

Thunder rips through the sky and the hail turns into a symphony of wrath. Icicles break across the construction site above, splashing water everywhere around them. Staring at the platinum spheres, August sees his own reflection dulled by the dirty silver curve. 

A dormant thing. But when set into motion, ever so deadly. 

He presses the beryllium rod to test the authenticity of the material and a sigh of relief pipes itself through his nose at the sound of the radioactive note on his testing device. Celebration blooms in his weary heart but the festivity is deemed achingly empty and dies out right away. 

‘Stop thinking about her, she’s gone. Focus on the cause, you’re almost there, just keep pushing through the doors.’ 

~*~

The blizzard melted into shy rain. The soft little drops dampen his hair, perming his large curls with the assistance of the cool winter breeze. Standing with the suitcase on the side of the rural road, August awaits his ride taking him to the helipad to proceed to Kashmir. It has been so long since he last met his true colleagues, since his departure from Lane in Norway. Avoiding any risks, contact was kept only necessary for the last stages of their tasks.

Doom’s day.

Securing the plutonium should have brought him relief, yet his chest continues to sink into his spine as if it’s being filled with coals. August Walker threaded through life alone, yet this sudden solitude is suddenly harrowing, making him feel like a gutted fish. Looking to his empty side he the ghost of her appears, giving him a bratty smirk. 

“Go away,” he chides, refusing to think of her. Of that stupid mouth talking back, tormenting him with sweet saccharine and cinnamon-like kisses. In his reminiscences, the softness of her lips still hinges. Tenderness meeting the bristle of his neck as she lay gentle wet markings up his coarse jaw. 

His fingers press to his mouth trying to harness the memory. 

A large car drives into the side of the road, speeding up and braking right next to his legs, missing August’s foot by an inch. Frowning at the careless driver, he grunts and brushes his hair before opening the passenger door.

“Took you awhile,” he grunts as he slips into the seat and peers at the driver. A bulky man in his early 40s with dark short cropped curls and thin lips. He shoots August a glance and turns back to the steering wheel.  

“Not my bad, you made a fucking mess, Lark.” The man answers and begins driving right away, careless of the fact that August didn’t put his seatbelt on and that he is holding radioactive material. 

Throwing the seatbelt over himself and fastening it, August growls and carefully secures the case on the side of the driver seat, his index finger remaining on the brim. He gently caresses the hard black leather. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

The driver peers at him oddly before looking down the road, driving fast and passing a large log truck. “Releasing the manifesto. MI6 and the CIA are all over the place,” he says and turns the radio on, letting August hear the news on his own. “I get why you did it now, it’s brilliant to cause another distraction but you’ve made shit a bit harder with those cunts running around. They tracked it back from London and have been surveying the entire area.”

“I didn’t release the... “ 

August stills, his muscles shriveling up as realisation quickly hits him. 

‘Oh angel, what have you done?’

Drawing out his mobile phone, August immediately begins to search the newsite, his eyes an ocean of panic, fluttering back and forth. It’s everywhere, news about an anarchist manifesto, spreading like a virus through every social media outlet, leaked by codename “Jane Lark”. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, reading his own written word as he goes through an article posted on the BBC’s newsite. But she changed the last verse, added a little piece of her own:  

“Valkyries mounted onto beasts,  We will ride eternal to the sun. The blazes will sear us but we will not back down,  United by our cause of just war, Unflinching we will scour the earth, Until humanity comes together in tranquil and harmony.”

‘She loves you, you see? The way she lets you bleed her, use her, spill all your pain inside her. The way she held onto you just a night ago, your name falling from her lips, her body pressing into yours to take all of you. She’s the only one. The only woman who did and ever will. 

And you left her to die.’

________________________________

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible and August Walker

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Été - Pierre-Luc Dubois

Summary: Pierre takes his love to France where they have the time of their lives. 

Words: 1802

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything, and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch.” - tristamateer on Tumblr  

Pierre-Luc Dubois was without a doubt the most romantic and sweetest guy she ever met in her whole life. It was overwhelming at times. The amount of attention he gave her, romantic surprises from dinners to weekend getaways to simply but most importantly being her best friend. He appeared in her life just when she was losing hope there could exist a man who could love her the way she wanted and needed. She knew she could count on him and trust him with everything and no matter how many issues life threw in their way they almost made it out stronger and more in love. What more could she ask for? 

That’s exactly what Pierre wanted to know once the hockey season ended for him and summer was around the corner. He knew how much she had to sacrifice and deal with many things that she didn’t like for the sake of his playing career and he wanted to show her how much he appreciated her patience and support. He asked her countless time if there was anything she wanted to do in summer, anything he could buy her, or make come true but she never said a single thing except for “having you is enough”. It was of course a nice thing to know and to hear but it wasn’t helpful at all. Then thankfully an answer came, quite randomly when they were cooking dinner together and she opened a bottle of her favorite French wine and mumbled the words “oh to be in a winery in France!” And that’s exactly where he was going to take her. 

He planned the whole trip for almost two weeks to make sure everything would go smoothly and that everything would be perfect. He rented a villa on a hilltop surround by land and in a small private winery. The villa was near to historic cities of southwest France, and completely private which was something he craved - privacy. To be alone with his love, away from his teammates and the team’s staff, away from media and fans. Just him and her for once. 

“Are you kidding?” Y/n asked when she opened the little envelope with the details of their vacation in France. “I can’t go to France for 3 weeks Pierre! I have to work.” 

“No, no you don’t,” Pierre laughed and rolled his eyes at her. She could never enjoy a surprise without thinking of a reason why she couldn’t enjoy it. 

“What do you mean? Of course, I do!” 

“You don’t. I talked to your boss already and she doesn’t have a problem with it,” he explained with a soft smile. 

“You’re the best!” She said loudly and jump on him with excitement. “I love you.” 

Southwest France 

When the couple arrived to their rented villa a selection of wines made in the winery they would call home for the next three weeks greeted them in the kitchen and naturally, they opened a bottle or two immediately as a way to start the vacation. 

“Wine tastes better in France,” Y/n announced after she poured herself another glass. “Don’t you think?” 

“I think it would taste even better if we had some food,” Pierre laughed. “Seriously, I’m starving. Let’s go out.” 

“Give me a minute,” Y/n ran to their bedroom, put on a beige silk dress that went below her knees, styled it with a pair of black flats and sunglasses and she was ready to go. 

Pierre waited for her outside in their rented car, a black cabriolet Chevrolet Corvette, the perfect car to discover the city in and for road trips he planned for them. 

A few minutes later they were sitting in possibly the most romantic restaurant they have ever been to. A man was playing the piano somewhere in the garden creating a perfect atmosphere for their first date in France, oil paintings on the walls, flowers decorating all the tables, and the view on a courtyard full of flowers. Could it be more magical? People around them chatted with each other, the beautiful French language almost seemed to be in the rhythm of the piano. And yet as fancy as it was it still felt cozy and homey. Y/n was in complete shock and it took a lot of self-control to stay calm and not to start obsesses over everything and to keep her phone in her bag since she and Pierre agreed not to use their phones and enjoy the privacy but she regretted the promise a little because she really wanted to a take a picture of that place. Pierre liked the setting as well but what made him happier was Y/n’s smile and excitement. Her smile was wider than usual, and her eyes lit up every time she spotted something, she found adorable. 

The sun was slowly setting down while they enjoyed their dinner, the best food they ever had in their whole lives. They’ve been to so many restaurants in so many cities, yet no food tasted as good as the food in France. Needless to mention that the beautiful atmosphere simply made everything better. Pierre although he was a romantic guy, he never truly understood the world’s obsession with Paris and France in general but now that he was there, he finally understood what the world was talking about. Y/n always dreamt of going to France and having a movie-like summer with the love of her life. And as she looked at Pierre sitting in front of her, looking right back at her with so much love she knew with absolute certainty that he was the love of her life, the person she waited for for so long. The only person she could imagine spending the rest of her life with and growing old with him didn’t scare her at all. She knew it was going to be okay. 

The following morning, they both woke up in an exceptionally good mood. Maybe it was the sunshine and warmth, maybe it was the fresh air, the privacy, and maybe the fact that everything was perfect, and nothing could ruin their mood. After a delicious breakfast, they moved to their garden to chill by the pool. 

Pierre was on the sunbed watching Y/n swim in the pool happily. He kept smiling at her although she hardly ever looked at him. She looked happier than ever before and Pierre was proud of himself for planning this and doing this for her because it served its purpose; it made her smile, happy and relaxed. 

When she got out of the water she stood still in the grass, surrounded by the never-ending grapevine, the sun made her skin appear golden and she was glowing, looking like an actual goddess. “What?” She giggled when she noticed Pierre staring at her. 

“Nothing,” he answered. “Just adoring my girl.” 

Y/n then lay down on the sunbed next to Pierre, enjoyed the warmth, and listened to Pierre reading her favorite book for her. The birds sang in the trees, the sun was pleasingly warm and they sipped wine and enjoyed each other’s company. 

All shades of orange and pink created a beautiful sky that made everything look warmer and cozier, the last rays of sunshine sneaked into the villa most specifically to the kitchen where was Y/n currently making dinner while Pierre tries his best to help but not move around too much because his clumsiness in the kitchen was no joke. A warm breeze brushed against their skin and the scent of freshly chopped herbs filled the whole area. Soft jazz was playing in the living room and both Y/n and Pierre moved in the rhythm of the quiet music without realizing it. It was simply a beautiful and romantic evening in France.

“I have no idea what we’re cooking,” Pierre said as he added the chopped herbs and garlic he cut with such care after to the meat that was now covered in red wine and beef stock. “But it already smells delicious.” 

“It’s boeuf bourguignon,” she answered with a French accent making herself and Pierre giggle. “And now we wait for an hour.” She said when she put the meat into the oven.

“This is nice,” Pierre whispered into Y/n’s ear when he wrapped his hands around her body, kissed her cheek softly and they slowly moved together with the music and watched the sunset from their terrace. “It’s nice having you all to myself for a while.” 

“I should be the one who’s saying this,” Y/n said quietly. “I’m the one sharing you with all the fans, and teammates. Even the press people see you more often than I do.” She chuckled. 

“I know,” he answered sadly, realizing once again how hard it must be for her to watch him spend time with everyone but her. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

Y/n turned around with a smile to face him, wrapped her hands around his neck and hid her face in his chest. She knew how much Pierre hated being away from her but she understood everything perfectly and although it was never easy she accepted it. 

Pierre leaned down a little which gave her a signal to lift her head up and his lips gently and slowly pressed to hers. She ran her fingers through his hair while his hands were securely around her waist as if he was worried someone would take her away from him at any moment. “I think I’m gonna make it up to you right now.” He announced and carried her to their bedroom.

And so that’s how the rest of the vacation went; they enjoyed the silence and fresh air, went for walks around the town, cooked food together, and made love whenever they wanted. Most importantly their relationship was even better than it was before, and they realized how much they loved each other. 

“Thank you for this vacation, my love,” Y/n said one evening as they walked around the vineyard. “I can’t describe how grateful I am for this. For you.” 

Pierre stood still for a while unable to find the words to say. He would do anything for her just as she would for him and they both knew it. They had no doubts about their feelings for each other and everything that he could say was already said. And so he just took her into his arms and hugged her tighter than ever before, kissed her and they stayed like that until the sun was replaced by the moon. 

[alolowrites]

Cuddling Through the Seasons

Summary: Fatgum’s cuddles never go out of season

Author’s Note: This is my third story for the @bnhabookclub​’s Hero Camp Bingo event. This was also a request from @bnha-homeroom​ (sorry it took so long!) 

The prompt used was Cuddles and this is my first story for Fatgum. Hopefully I’ll do more stories for this guy because he’s deserves the best. 

Enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6K+

Spring

High in the sky rests the glorious bright sun. It’s golden rays shine through the vibrant pink flowers blooming on every tree, emphasizing their natural beauty. Two birds playfully chase each other in between the branches, their lovely chirps in harmony with the soothing sounds of the gentle stream below—Mother Nature is simply a lady with many hidden talents.

Although the grass maintains a healthy green coat, it too is covered by fresh cherry blossom petals blown off the trees—it adds a beautiful pop to the land. Few people arrive and wander through the peaceful park. Some snap a couple of pictures on their phones, their bodies bent in odd angles to capture that perfect Instagram-worthy shot. Others silently take in the whole scenery with their eyes and save the mental image deep in their memory jar—that’s how you are enjoying today with Taishiro.

Both of you sit under a tree that is different from the others; it’s branches are abundant, and some hang charmingly over the water. A quick wind blows through the park, tugging the delicate petals until one slowly falls to the stream. Everything is serene, almost like an abstract landscape painting on display at an art museum.

Closing your eyes, you sink in deeper into Taishiro’s plump chest. A relaxed sigh escapes his lips as you enjoy your massive pillow. His large arms wrap around you like a snuggly safety belt—they are protective and warm. Your fingers affectionately glide up and down his sweater to the beat of the stream. You hum, “Everything is so beautiful.”

Taishiro leans back on the thick tree trunk and glances at you; he cheekily grins, “That’s ‘cause you’re here, darlin’. The cherry blossoms are a nice touch, though.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re such a cheesy guy, you know that?”

“Yeah, but that’s what you love ‘bout me.”

“That is very true,” you playfully tap his arm, smirking up at him. Another cherry blossom falls and lands on top of your head. Taishiro raises on hand to carefully pluck it off your hair and holds it high against the sunlight. The flower is so soft and just the right shade of pink. He thinks it’s perfect, just like you.

Taishiro shows the sakura petal to you, “Here’s a little present.”

Your heart swells, a tiny blush dusting your cheeks as you reach for the flower. You take a whiff of the sweet aroma and lean back against your living pillow. Squeezing the hero’s hand, you look up to flash him a faint smile, “Thank you.”

You never let go of the cherry blossom petal.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Summer

Far in the distance lies the vast calm sea. Ocean waves creep steadily toward the fine white sand, kissing the land hello before returning outward. Light puffy clouds float along the peaceful cerulean sky, morphing into different images at the hands of your wild imagination. It’s a fun way to pass the time and relax the mind.

You inhale the fresh, natural air—it smells like freedom. The city’s chaotic and bustling streets are an afterthought. The prying eyes of paparazzi and other media hounds are thousands of miles away from your paradise home. The avalanche stress tied with Taishiro’s hero lifestyle vanishes when the two of you step on the warm sand.

“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about, darlin’?” His voice is loud but soothing at the same time. You feel the gigantic teddy bear stand behind you. It wasn’t long until Taishiro traps you into his loving embrace, giving you a quick squeeze. Your toes wiggle into the smooth sand as a sharp wind whistles by; the waves hear it and crash against the shoreline.

“How a place like this,” you nod toward the dancing water, “somehow exists. It’s almost as if I’m dreaming—” You yelp at the slight pinch, and Taishiro roars with laughter. You crane your neck up to glare at him, “What was that for?”

“Well you’re not dreamin’, that’s for sure.” You elbow into his stomach knowing entirely well it did not phase him at all. Taishiro retaliates by hugging you harder, enjoying the delightful squeals ringing into the semi-deserted beach. Other tourists linger around, but the land is so spacious that you barely see them. It’s easy to think you two are alone with all the privacy in the world, an idea that doesn’t exist back at home—a small price to pay while being a pro hero.

In a way, Taishiro is glad this moment is not a dream. It won’t fade away once he wakes up, but will stay in his memory for a long time. Just as you calm down, a mischievous grin crosses the hero’s lips, and his grip tightens around your waist. You had a bad feeling about this and clenched his hands, “Hey…what are you doing—”

“Hold on!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Your words fall on deaf ears as he effortlessly carries you in his arms and charges toward the sea that is waiting to greet you both.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Autumn

Bright yellow lanterns glow above the narrow streets, gently swaying back and forth without a care in the world. Luscious pampas grass decorate the roofs, the creamy-white feathery plumes waving hello to everyone passing through the area. A chubby hand reaches upward; the baby is determined to grab the mesmerizing fluffy grass until something else catches their eye.

An elegant pyramid of tsukimi dango neatly sits on a black plate. There are fifteen white dumplings, each perfectly round and white as the precious moon gleaming tonight. A crowd grows around the delicious display, making it nearly impossible to squeeze through the sardine bodies. Fortunately, the group departs when they see Fatgum approaching with his hearty smile, and you follow closely behind—sometimes being a hero has its perks.

Taishiro greets everyone until a middle-aged man freaks out from his stall, “It’s an honor to meet you, Fatgum! Thank you for keeping our streets safe!”

“It’s no problem really—”

“Please take these dumplings! They’re on the house!”

Taishiro gives you a side-glance, and you shrug. Who were you to deny some free food, especially if they are those moon-like dumplings? You grab the plate from the man’s trembling hands and bow. The hero safely guides you away from the crowd and spots an empty grass field. Plopping down, you dramatically groan, “That was so much walking!”

“Sorry, darlin’! Guess I got a lil carried away,” he chuckles while scratching his forehead. Taishiro takes a seat behind you.  

“I think that’s an understatement, but,” you gleefully raise the plate that barely reached his eyes, “we got free dumplings!”

“They do look good,” Taishiro hums and takes one round treat. You plop the tsukimi dango in your mouth, the rice flavor surprisingly strong, yet pleasing to your tastebuds—it’s a chewy delight. The pyramid crumbles in seconds, and you scoot back to rest your head against the gentle giant; out of instinct, he cradles you in his arms.

A chilly air blows by and makes you shiver despite wearing a cashmere sweater. Taishiro notices and shifts his posture to shield you from the cold—a small act that melts your heart every time. You gaze at the luminous moon until your eyes struggle to stay awake; it doesn’t help that Taishiro feels like all toasty like a fleece blanket.  

It definitely was all that walking, and you yawn before dozing off in his arms.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Winter

Snow showers rain down on your quiet neighborhood. The bare tree branches scoff at the fluffy cotton balls falling from the sky; they barely weighed more than a feather. An hour later, the branches are slouching under the heavyweight and weeping for mercy—but the snow never stops.  

A thin white blanket hides the dull, gray streets and vibrant decorations flourish to their heart’s content. Tiny bells chime once Jack Frost blows a chilly wind down the sidewalks. Thick garlands covered in elegant ribbons stretch for miles on some apartment balconies. And others hung colorful Christmas lights that flicker to a very jolly tune.

In a way, the snow ties everything together to bring out the pleasant holiday mood—it’s simply magical. Two pairs of footsteps, one small like a mouse and the other the size of a giant, imprint themselves on the powdery sidewalk. You waddle toward the apartment with arms bundled around yourself; you’re craving for something warm. Any minute longer outside and your legs will permanently turn into icicles.

“O-open t-the do-or, p-please,” you chatter through your teeth while bouncing nonstop. Taishiro chuckles and you glare at him, making his grin widen more. You barge in once he unlocks the door and dust off the snow on your coat. Hasty footsteps rush to the kitchen so you could warm the teapot as quickly as possible.  

Taishiro shakes his head—you quickly get cold. He relaxes on the couch, not bothering to change out of his Santa costume; if anything, the clothes are comfortable and roomy. You wander into the living room and shiver up a storm. A gloved hand beckons for you, “Come over here, darlin’.”  

Shuffling toward the mellow hero, he pulls you on top of him. Without hesitation, his arm wraps around you to keep you steady. One ear sits above his chest, and you focus on the faint sound of his heartbeat. Not even the Santa costume could mask Taishiro’s alluring honeydew scent, which drives you crazy. You contently sigh, “You made so many kids smile today, hun.”

“I’m glad,” he answers while stroking your hair, “Those kids at the hospital deserve all the happiness in the world, ya’ know?”

“Yeah…” A finger lazily draws out imaginary lines along Taishiro’s red velvet coat. An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. Only your charming touches could make him react like this, and he savors them all. You raise your head and squirm closer to the hero’s face. With loving eyes, you whisper, “You make a fantastic Santa Claus.”

“Fantastic enough to get a kiss from Mrs. Claus?”

“Sure,” you giggle and pull down his fake white beard. As you plant a sweet kiss on his lips, you decide that you no longer needed that nice hot cup of tea.

Third prompt is crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading!

Previous prompt: Betrayal

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

[midnightprelude]

For @14daysdalovers​, @oftachancer​ and I wrote a little Dorian x Anders which will eventually become part of Underneath the Bough. Spoilers for that fic, if you’re reading it. ;) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4699 Read here under the cut or on AO3.

Anders

The light of the full moon and the illuminated bulbs that decorated the grounds of the Pavus estate made his sojourn from the manor house towards the stables easier than Anders had expected given the hour. He rubbed the ever-present exhaustion from his eyes as his boots crunched softly against gravel, dirt, and grass, attempting to stick to the shadows until he was out of sight of the myriad windows looming over him from the walls of Dorian’s home.

The copse of trees near the stables, when the moon is at her apex, Dorian had murmured, his hand brushing over Anders’ shoulder at midday. Tonight.

He’d scarcely been able to think of anything but the curve of Dorian’s smirk underneath his perfectly curled mustache for the rest of the day. 

The trees were broad-branched and leaf-filled, seeming to block all but the barest starlight as he stepped deeper into the copse, following small twisting papers that fluttered on strings from the branches. Snatches of poems. Strange symbols he’d noticed Dorian and Almila both using in their notes and notations. When he reached the clearing, he paused, staring at the edge of a circle of white sand, lit from within by myriad candles. The figure in its center was swathed in a midnight blue robe, cowled and murmuring quietly over a flat silver tray. 

Dorian glanced up, that self-same smirk curling his lips. “Well, come in. Mind you don’t disturb the circle.”

Anders stepped gingerly over the lines, head on a swivel, trying to take in everything, to commit it all to memory- It must have taken ages to put it all together, Dorian radiating moonglow and starlight, shrouded in shadow. “What is this?” he murmured, crossing to touch the hem of the long sleeves Dorian wore. “Some sort of ritual?”

“There’s that quicksilver mind I’m so fond of.” Dorian gleamed. “We are teaching you the basics of your gift, are we not? This is one of the simpler ones.” He turned his hand, brushing his fingers over Anders’ wrist. “Whatever did you think you were coming out here for?”

Anders puffed out his cheeks, exhaling slowly. “Not a lesson, certainly.”

Silver eyes glittered in the candlelight. “I could have sworn you were exhausted. I distinctly recall our last interlude being interrupted by you falling asleep on me.”

“You’re very comfortable,” Anders chuckled, trying to hide his disappointment behind a smile. Dorian had gone to all this trouble for a reason and he was loath to let it go unappreciated. “Alright,” he said quietly. “What is it we’re doing, then?”

Dorian pointed up. “We’re harvesting moonlight.” He eased to his feet, collecting his cane as he moved, and nodded to a stool and a pile of silver velvet. “You’ll want to change.”

“Harvesting-“ Anders stared at him. Dorian said it as though he was recounting what he’d had for breakfast. He nodded, moving slowly towards the cloth, stripping off his jacket and vest as though in a daze. “What am I supposed to-“

The candles flared around them, dozens that had been unlit in interlocking semicircles around them sizzling to life as if of their own accord. “I’ll show you,” Dorian murmured. “It’s almost time. Leave who you’ve been behind and let the robe be the only thing between you and the sky.” 

“So the stories about witches dancing naked in the moonlight are true, then?” Anders smirked, color rising to his cheeks as he did as he was bidden, unbuttoning and unlacing and shucking his clothes, draping the silver robe around his shoulders as he folded his shirt and trousers and the rest into a tidy pile.

“We aren’t witches,” Dorian lifted a brow. “We’re mages. Witches are something altogether different. Powerful in their own right, often devastatingly so, but not the same.” He took Anders' hands, guiding him to the center of the circle. “And we aren’t dancing. We’re working.” He turned his palms to face the sky in the center of the tiny clearing, curving his hands into cups. “Like so.”

Even watching such simple movements were enough to set Anders’ fingers shaking. The elegance in those hands. The surety in his voice. The clever discernment of his eyes. He tried to still them, to assume the same position Dorian had, but there was a shiver in his spine that wasn’t from the cold. Gods, he wanted to kiss that smirking grin, to drag Dorian down to the earth and make love to him under the stars. 

But instead Anders listened and followed, meeting eyes fashioned from glinting silver for approval.

“A little higher.” He touched Anders’ knuckles lightly, lifting his hands out and to the sides. “You’re holding your breath. You need to exhale. Let your body root to the earth through your heels. Feel the sky like a crown touching the top of your head. You are infinite, capable of the impossible, and you bridge the space between the soil and the clouds.”

Dorian brushed his thumbs across Anders’ palms. “Feel the light touching you. Feel the spools of it unraveling from the rays of the moon and pouring into your hands. Stay with me. Focus on my eyes. Roots in the earth. Crown in the sky. One path for the light. Can you feel it?”

Focus on his eyes. Endless depths of mercury, clever and glimmering under thick, furrowed eyebrows. What a wonder it would be to taste the moonlight on his skin, to feel that deep velvet under his fingertips, and then a very different sort of velvet against his tongue as his knees dug into the ground and the chirps of evening insects were replaced with Dorian’s restrained moans in the quiet thicket, until he dripped with his own sort of starlight down Anders’ tongue-

What was magic, compared to the shift of Dorian’s eyes, the way he melted when Anders admitted he loved him, he wanted him, he enjoyed his company and his mind and his body? Andraste’s tears, his body, sculpted by the Maker himself; He could’ve stopped proudly after he’d created his masterpiece, every line immaculate, every curve sensual, and the slant of that smile was enough to set fields ablaze-

Dorian’s lips curled into a wide, pleased smile. Teeth like pearls, reflecting a bright glow. And in the depths of his gleaming eyes, spears of silver flame licked his expanding pupils, splitting them like cats’ eyes. “I ask for thread and you give me ribbons,” Dorian chuckled, his voice smoked like the scotch he favored, pewter smoke puffing from his lips. “You always insist on doing things in your own particular way, don’t you?”

Anders followed his gaze to his hands; the cups of his palms were luminescent, filled and overflowing with silver-white transparent silk that seemed to weave itself from the air to pool and pour over his hands into a pile between their feet. His toes glowed with internal light where they peeked from beneath the silver robe, splashes of glimmering starlight catching the grass like dew. 

Dorian touched his chin, beaming, kissing him, and his lips felt like the buzz of champagne- ticklish and effervescent and ephemeral. Anders gasped as he tilted his head back and the rain of moonlight poured over him like a warm waterfall of teasing touches over his face and through his hair and down his neck; it slipped past his lips - thick as molasses, light as air, more pure than any water he’d ever tasted, coating his tongue… He gazed at the moon, drinking its light, bathing in it, and felt the ache and exhaustion in his muscles and bones melting away like ice before the sun. More ribbons. More light. 

His robe parted under Dorian’s fingers, falling away, and Anders felt warmer for its absence. Cloaked in the sheen of the full orb above them which seemed to expand and expand until it swallowed the sky. 

“Magnificent,” Dorian murmured; he was sunlight in the middle of the night- burning with raw, golden energy and the sizzle of shadows of midsummer midday. He brushed his thumbs down Anders’ thighs as he sank to his knees in the still pooling ribbons of light, dropping kisses like molten wax to Anders’ skin. “You are magnificent.”

“Dorian,” Anders whispered, staring down the line of his body to meet eyes that had become gilded, “am I- We did this? This? How did-“ Gods, he felt more energized than he had in a decade, as though he could float from the earth itself if he willed it. The thought made him feel cloudy, shimmering like the light that grazed him, and he caught his breath as he felt air touch the bottoms of his feet. “This is real?”

“Yes.” Dorian held his hips, drawing him back to earth. “Heels to the soil, my love. I don’t want you to float away.”

“Float-“ Anders gasped, laughing. Gods, he was floating; it hadn’t just been his imagination. He tried to anchor himself again, but his feet ground six inches into the dirt. “Andraste’s frilly underskirts, I can fly. I could- I could-“ He blinked, running his glowing hands through the silk of Dorian’s hair. “Dorian, I could try to fix your leg. I could do that for you, if you let me, I feel like I could all at once, right now, and still be able to catch the stars like lightning bugs-“

“Exhale,” Dorian smiled up at him. “Exhale and enjoy it. You needn’t do anything. Only be. You, existing here, is all the magic we need.”

“No, but I could,” Anders breathed out some of that light and it dissipated into mist before him. “I should take advantage of it- I should put it to use while I can, before it dissolves-“

Dorian shook his head, dropping kisses across his hip and his belly. “Not this time, Anders. This time, you drink deep and let the moon and I teach you about your wonders.”

Anders wanted to revolt, to beg him to see reason, to channel the power that was surging through his body like a lightning rod- 

But Dorian’s hands on his hips were steady and his own were shivering with energy and he knew he was right. Drunk. It would be like operating while drunk. A whimper escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and felt every hair Dorian touched energize, every inch of skin moving against his as though in slow motion. “Alright, love,” Anders whispered, cupping his cheek. “Teach me.”

“Send your heels into the earth like roots. Send your hair into the sky like branches. Hold onto me.” Dorian kissed the inside of his wrist. “Hold on to me, be, and remember to breathe.” 

There was a moment where the light and the dark seemed to crystallize around them, fragmenting into a million shattering pieces, then all of the edges seamed together again as Anders felt Dorian’s lips close over him. Hot as a baking oven, but painless. The opposite of painless. Heat and light roaring up through him, warming his veins, weighting him back to the earth. The ribbons pooled over his hands and his shoulders, tender slips of dreams that promised infinity and impossibility. And Dorian drank from him as Anders drank from the moon, holding him steady as he summoned the light down through him-

Energy pooled in his belly, sizzling under his skin. He wasn’t certain if his eyes were open or closed; light seemed to move and flow around him like water regardless. He could feel the grass beneath his feet, but that might have been memory as much as fact, or perhaps he was floating and the ground was simply rising to meet him. 

He was awake. He was alive. Perhaps more alive than he’d ever been. Or was he always like this, and only more aware of his own vitality? He received the air like a gift, each breath a decadent sip, and his lover feasted on him - light and limb - as though he were ambrosia until the wash of soft silverwhite turned violet and green and marigold, altering the flames of the dim flickering candles in their midst. 

“Is it-“ Anders struggled to form words, thoughts sifting from his mind like sand through his fingertips. He leaned his head back to drink in more light, to drown in it, feeling his feet lift from the earth only to be brought back down again with a flicker of will. “Always? Is it always like this?”

Dorian nuzzled the inside of his thigh, smiling drunkenly up at him, gleaming moonlight in his eyes and sunlight in his skin. “It can be,” he licked the words across Anders’ skin. “The moon is full of power; it can be harvested in a number of ways.”

“You’re so beautiful I could weep,” Anders exhaled, grinning down at him, the candlelight shifting to amethyst around them, the reflection catching in Dorian’s eyes and turning silver. “You’ve always known about this? How you could- Maker, that I could-“

“I didn’t know what you could or would until I watched you channel it,” Dorian drew him back to the ground again. “We all have our unique gifts.”

“And what are yours, Dorian?” Anders asked breathlessly, “I want to discover what you can do as well.”

“Greedy,” Dorian chuckled, nipping at the inside of his knee. “Come back down here and I’ll show you.”

Anders hummed, sparkling stars on his breath, pouring over him like a wave, beaming as he kissed along the line of his neck, curling up against him like a cat. “Close enough?”

“Never.” Dorian splayed his hand on Anders’ belly, tangling with him in the grass. “Nothing is close enough.” He pressed gentle, slow, raindrop kisses down the side of Anders’ face, slipping his fingers between his legs. “But we can try to rectify that.”

“Hnn-“ Anders closed his eyes, but could still see the outlines of everything in gilded starlight, shining through his eyelids like a summer sun. Could see Dorian’s smirk, felt the edges of his lips with his fingertips just to be certain- “Rectify,” he murmured, his hips rolling almost of their own accord. “Yes. Please, Dorian, if you can-“

Sunbursts and clear-sky showers pet and pressed as slow-melt kisses rained across his fingers and down his neck. The sky was unending resplendent, dripping over him, lapping at his lips and his skin and his entrance with the buzz of dragonfly wings. “Breathe,” Dorian reminded him gently, delving, drawing the moon into him with the flex of his fingers until Anders thought that he might burst from being overfilled. Light and power and life and love and warmth blended in his belly, softening his muscles and melting him against Dorian’s body. “Is this what you want?” the smoke curled, cardamom and coriander spiced, across his lips. 

“You,” Anders exhaled in a shower of sparks. “You, yes, I want you. I have wanted you. I can think of little else-“ He reached to kiss him, desperate to let loose some of that swirling energy. “It’s so beautiful, Dorian-“

“You are,” Dorian kissed the corner of his mouth, lapping spilling moonlight from his lips as he pressed his melting sunrise fingers deeper. “You are magnificent. You are life, itself.”

“Is your secret power flattery, my lord?” Anders batted his eyelashes, prisms in his periphery, champagne bubbles popping as he laughed. “That seems rather mundane; I must say I’m disappointed.”

“Your eyes shine like amber,” Dorian nipped at his chin. “Your skin is velvet cream. I could drink from you for years and never would my thirst be slaked.” His voice shuffled syrupy, intoxicating mists across Anders’ tongue. “I adore you. I adore your laugh and the spin of your mind and the blossoming expanse of your heart. And when I’m inside you, I’m ecstatic, and also grieve that I will at some point have to leave you.”

“Mm, seems it’s flattery, then,” Anders grinned, catching his lips and sending sparks along Dorian’s skin where they touched. “Oh-“ His back arched and he drove himself against Dorian’s fingers, electricity charging his skin, the static sending shockwaves through him, making every hair raise on their ends. “You don’t need to leave for long, you know. You could-“ Another set of sparks spilled from his fingertips, shivers running through the length of his body. “Oh, Dorian- Is it supposed to feel like this?”

“The flattery?” Dorian smirked against his cheek. “I hope so. Are you enjoying it?”

“Am I-“ Anders breathed, closing his eyes to trace that slanted smile with the tip of his tongue. “I didn’t know I could do this. I didn’t know-“ Grass cool against his back, every blade stark against his skin, bare under the sky. “I adore you, too. You know that, yes?”

“Mmhmm,” Dorian kissed his cheek. “You express it very fluently.” His fingers were curls of power and light, summoning the tart of fresh orange peels and shredded spices to his tongue. Heat buzzed up his spine and out through his fingertips, showering sparks. “You are capable of so much more than you know.”

“And you do?” Anders whispered, gaze focusing on him, able to distinguish every feathered line in his eyes, every eyelash, every faint pore on his cheeks. “You can see what I cannot?”

“Only insofar as I have studied this craft since I was in swaddling clothes.” Dorian met his gaze, unflinching and steady. His pupils were blown with admiration and power and pleasure, the barest argent slivers around the rims. “You’ll learn.”

“I’d prefer it,” Anders chuckled, tugging Dorian’s forehead to his, “if all of our lessons ended like this. Do you think that could be arranged?”

“Like this?” Dorian kissed him, sizzling. “Or like this?” He flexed his fingers. “Or like this?” he glanced at the lights surrounding them. 

“I would take two of three,” Anders hummed, tasting himself and the crackle of energy on Dorian’s tongue. “And leave the specifics entirely up to you.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He leaned up on one elbow, a living sunrise, daybreak thrumming from his fingertips to fill Anders with melting warmth. “Do try the threads,” Dorian murmured, kissing down his neck to his chest. “If only to play, hm?”

“Alright. I’ll try,” Anders murmured, but he was finding it difficult to stem the tide, to focus on shaping the power into something so fine that it could be plucked when it wanted to flood from him, brimming from his skin like a waterfall. It fought him, the surging energy, stretching and tugging against the bounds he tried to set and Dorian’s lips and fingertips made him want to lose himself to the magic even further, to dissolve into sensation and melt into the ground below. 

“That’s more of a sheet, my love,” Dorian murmured, licking a path down his belly. “Thinner, not wider.”

“I’m trying,” Anders protested, closing his eyes and attempting to wrap the light back on itself. “You’re very distracting, you realize?”

He could feel the smirking shift of Dorian’s lips and mustache against his skin as he trailed lower, exhaling lazy summer breezes. “Mmhmm.”

“That’s the point?” Anders leaned up on his elbows to peer at him. “Being distracting?”

“That’s the fun part for me,” Dorian dipped his tongue, grinning indecently. “Are you complaining?”

“No, I’m not-“ Anders sniffed, blowing a plume of silver smoke from his nose on the exhale. “Don’t stop. I’ll keep-“ A tiny flicker tickled his cheek but by the time Anders turned his head to glance at it, the slender thread had expanded into a fat, silky ribbon again. “Blast.”

“You have to use your entire will,” Dorian whispered, hot breath and petal lips and summer morning tongue doing terrible, wonderful things. “Create a sieve and let the light flow through it.”

“Sieve,” Anders repeated, shivering under his touch, trying to imagine it, but unable to conceptualize anything other than the wet warmth of Dorian’s mouth, the twitching of his fingers. “Maker’s beard, Dorian-” Will. Will? How was he supposed to exhibit any semblance of will when- Anders gritted his teeth together, trying not to cry out. Sieve. He tried to catch the light and weave it into some sort of mesh, a quiet whimper escaping his lips as Dorian tasted him.

“If you like.” Dorian nudged his thighs farther apart, “A scraggly beard, long and stringy.”

“Ugh, no-” Anders twitched, trying to hold the strands together and allow the light of the moon to flow through like raindrops on his tongue. “You’re beautiful as you are and I’d not have you change.”

“The strands, love,” Dorian chuckled. The laughter was like perlage rising through him, giddy and gleaming. “Thinner.” He pressed his palm to Anders’ belly, licking up the line of his shaft. “Threads. Droplets. Lace.”

“Call me ‘love’ again,” Anders begged, peering down at him with a grin. “I love how that word sounds on your lips.”

Silver shone. Lips beneath that curled mustache spread in a melting smile. “I love how it feels rolling off my tongue,” Dorian kissed his hip, watching him. “I love how it feels to love you, my love.”

His words were a balm that nearly soothed the sting of his inability to weave the magic as Dorian wished. Anders tightened his jaw, eyes crossing as he tried to tighten ropes into lace- He sighed, grimacing, as the entire construction fell to pieces. “I don’t know how to control it, Dorian,” Anders whispered, touching his cheek with a frown. “I don’t know how to make it listen. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry.” Dorian climbed up to kiss his chin. “Don’t be sorry, love. Be. You don’t need to understand it yet. I was only curious if you could, since you took to the transmutation so naturally. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“Dorian,” Anders nuzzled against his cheek, kissing him gently. “It’s alright. Maybe- After. I want you now. I love you and I want you.”

“You do.” He grinned, stroking his hands up Anders’ sides. “You’re moonlight and you want me.” He rolled to his back, drawing Anders over him. “Have me. I’m yours.”

“No, Dorian, you are yours.” Anders smiled, relieved at the permission to focus his attention on one matter, instead of dividing it in twain. His hand climbed up the ladder of Dorian’s ribs to cup his cheek, kneeling on top of him, straddled in the grass under a sea of stars. “You are Dorian Pavus, Earl of Drakonis-on-Sea, heir to Qarinus and Landsbridge and all that other drivel.” He ran his fingers through Dorian’s moonlit hair, kissing everything he could touch. “You are the husband to the most lovely woman in all of England, who dotes on you like you deserve. You are the father of a brilliant, beautiful boy who will grow up to be better than any of us, because of your love and that of his mother’s. You are a master of the arcane wonders, an engineer and scholar without equal. You are an unparalleled wit and an indecently delightful lover. You live and breathe in this world, spectacularly I might add, and because of that fact alone you are worthy of adoration and love, respect and dignity. I would take your wounded heart and fill it over until you’ve love cascading from your earlobes, until you come to the realization that you deserve to discover what it means to be happy and carve out a life where you can be just that.”

Dorian stared up at him. “Where… did that come from?”

“Huh?” Anders blushed, scrubbing a hand across his stubble. “Oh. Sometimes- I get a bit carried away.” He shuffled off of Dorian, laying in the grass, arm over his face. “Gods, I’m sorry.”

“What? Why are you sorry? Stop being sorry.” Dorian followed him, leaning over him. “You really love me.”

“What kind of person would lie about something like that?” Anders slid his arm down slightly so that he could meet Dorian’s eyes, his skin burning. “I don’t see the appeal.”

“Not lie- I didn’t think you were- I only-” Dorian peered down at him, wonderstruck and quizzical. “Embellish. I thought perhaps you might be embellishing.” His lips trembled with a strangely hesitant smile. “You gave me a speech.”

“Ah. I- Yes.” Anders smiled sheepishly, wrinkling his nose. “I mean what I say, though. I wouldn’t make such a fuss otherwise.” “You make a fuss?” Dorian rested his forehead to Anders’, beaming. “Over me? What sort of fuss do you make? Where is it? Can I see?”

“What are you talking about?” Anders pressed his lips together, his cheeks almost certainly crimson. “I’ve completely destroyed the ambiance, haven’t I?”

“Tell me again about making love cascade out of my earlobes.” Dorian nipped at his cheek, giddy. “Hold me and make a fuss. I’ll spin you in moonlight threads like a spool.”

“I thought you knew how I felt,” Anders whispered, touching his nose and following the line down cto his lips. “Didn’t you?” 

“I knew you cared for me. I had no doubt that you wanted me; I am decadently handsome, after all. And I knew you adored Almila. I-” He grinned, glowing, “-suppose I didn’t want to question it further. My earlobes. You glorious man.”

“Like you filled me with moonlight,” Anders murmured against his skin, resting his cheek against Dorian’s chest to watch him, effervescent. “I’ll fill an ocean for you that you can soak in until my love for you permeates your pores, until you’ve started to wrinkle from affection and overindulgence. And I’d love you still, even when your perfect skin sprouts lines at the corners of your eyes and lips from laughter, and your hair turns gray from long years, and your fingers aren’t so wonderfully dextrous as they are today. There is something unquestionably good in you; I know it, I’ve sensed it, I’ve seen it in Almila and Julius’ eyes, Justice can feel it- How could I not love you, even not having unraveled all of the parts of yourself you keep hidden?”

“Ah,” Dorian tilted his head to the side. “So it’s my goodness you’re fond of.”

“Among other things,” Anders frowned, glancing around the circle, the candles still flickering gently in the breeze. “Now you’re making fun.”

“Not at all. I’m delighted. I’ve hummingbirds all aflutter in my veins.” He kissed Anders’ cheek. “I’m not enthused that you think about me growing wrinkles, Maker forbid, but I am positively thrumming that you’ve an inclination to tarry long enough to spot them.”

“I’m already old,” Anders chuckled helplessly, relieved and breathless. “I’ve become preoccupied with my own wrinkles these past few years and I like to inflict my agony upon others to ease my own suffering with company.”

“You aren’t old,” Dorian rolled his eyes. “You’re exquisite.”

“And I’m getting wrinkles and my hair is starting to lose its color.”

“Your hair is gilded sunlight on a winter day when the clouds have just parted.” Dorian nipped at his lower lip. “And I have yet to spot any of the w-word. Should I look more thoroughly?”

“You needn’t,” Anders groaned, closing his eyes. “I already know where they are.”

“Anders.” Dorian chuckled, pressing kisses to his chin and across his jaw, “Tell me your very wonderful words again and make love to me before I get some of my own.”

“I love you,” Anders nudged him with his nose, still blushing. “It’s beautiful here.” He slipped between Dorian’s legs, kissing the side of his knee. “I feel like I mean something in your home, that I matter.” 

“You do,” Dorian touched the side of his face gently. “You do. Both of those things. And not only to us. You’re- you. You’re wondrous. You don’t need us. We need you.”

“I like being needed,” Anders whispered, gazing up at Dorian, at the shadows dancing in his eyes. “I love being loved. It makes all manner of things seem possible.”

“You only just made ribbons from the moon. All manner of things are possible, love.” He threaded his fingers through Anders’ hair. “We’ll teach you. With the rewards for your lessons as you’ve specified.”

[yukimoji]

My World: Part 3 ( Tanjiro Kamado x Reader )

( a/n: hello! welcome to part 3 and the final part of the “my world” series! this became longer than i had initially expected, i apologize deeply for that. also, i'm sorry if it seemed like i shitted on kanao too much, im so sorry bby i still love u. take note there will be grammar errors and typos, bec im blind and i always seem to miss those errors rip. thank you all for following “my world”, and i hope you all enjoy! )

(also, how do u even write angst?? i tried my best and i hope ya’ll dont get too disappointed with my poor excuse of angst lololol)

Part 1 I 2 I 3

Total words: 6600+ words

Genre: Angst and Fluff

!!MAJOR, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Warnings: Mentions of blood

--

With each passing day, it felt like you were getting closer towards the edge of the line.

In a dark tunnel, you stood there, wandering aimlessly towards the light that could not be even seen for miles and miles. An endless loop of nothingness, as the feeling of dread, terror, and fear consumes you from the hidden depths of your mind.

You hoped and wished that one day you could see even a tiny glimpse of what lies ahead of you. Wondering if there's more to it than the endless bloodshed and horrors you've seen hundreds of times now.

But then, suddenly, a warm entity started to walk alongside you. A feeling as warm as the bright rays of the morning sun, and an inexplicable feeling of something accompanying you on your endless journey.

Even when immersed in darkness, the underlying warmth seemed to radiate from that figure. There was a tinge of happiness in your harsh world that made the road to the unseen light seem less lonely than before.

However, with every step, the distant light gets dimmer and darker.

And the warm feeling beside you blazes into a raging, roaring, sea of fire.

The morning after you received the heartfelt letter from Tanjiro, word broke out that Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu had defeated Lower Moon One.

You were rejoiced to hear that your comrades had defeated another member of the Twelve Demon Moons. When you heard the news for the first time, you promptly darted to find the nearest pen and paper to congratulate the trio. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when your Kasugai Crow screeched out the status of the Hashira that the trio had accompanied.

Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, has died after an encounter with Upper Moon Three.

Your eyes were as big as saucers, as you stood there in shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Upper Moon 3? Hashira? Dead?

You've never really had a proper conversation with the Flame Hashira, but you've had high respects for him. The way he would hold his sword with pride and his never-ending sense of justice would always bring hope to you and your fellow slayers. You could still remember the words of encouragement he would say every time he would have encountered the lower ranks like you.

"Always set your heart ablaze!"

Hearing about the death of such an important figure in the Demon Slayer Corps made you tighten your jaw. Your hand clenches at the thought of someone so kind and strong had died of such a painful death. You inhaled tiny and long breaths as you try to calm yourself down from the frustration rising in your veins.

He would've wanted his death to inspire the Demon Slayers to fight harder, and you will. His fate will not be in vain as long as the Demon Slayer Corps will continue fighting on.

If you feel angry, you could only imagine as to how Tanjiro felt. Knowing the boy, he would've befriended and had grown attached to the fallen Hashira. Your face contorted into one of sadness. He would be distraught, seeing the Flame Hashira die in front of his very eyes.

You glanced at the paper and the pen at the corner of your vision, and decided to write to the Hanafuda-clad slayer. You went to grab the items and sat down to start writing your letter.

You couldn't be there to physically comfort him, you were too far away. You prayed that this letter would suffice, as you could not do anything more to console the Burgundy-haired boy.

--

Tanjiro made his way back towards the Butterfly Estate, after visiting the Rengoku Estate to deliver Kyojuro-san's final wishes. He gazed at the katana guard that was given to him by Senjoru, Kyojuro-san's little brother. He sighs sadly at the thought of the Flame Hashira, his words echoing in his mind.

"Live on and set your heart ablaze!"

Breathing out softly, his Crimson-hues looks upwards to the sky, staring at the moving clouds high above.

"CAW! A MESSAGE! A MESSAGE FOR KAMADO TANJIRO!"

"Yaah!" Tanjiro yells out in surprise at his crow's loud screeching, but his expression brightened at the sight of a letter attached to it's legs. He then puts his arm out to let the crow land on it.

"Thank you!" He affectionately pats the head of the crow, and proceeds to take the letter placed delicately on it's legs. The crow screeches once more, and takes off.

Tanjiro looks at the crow flying away, and returns his gaze towards the letter in his hands. He reads the message written in it, and can't help a smile forming from his lips.

"What can be done, is for us to not let it define our days to come. We can choose to heal, whilst bearing the scars, whether alone or with someone precious.

For as long as you want me to, I will be here for you."

I read that somewhere, but I couldn't remember where, hehe.

I'm sorry for what happened. I can't imagine what you're feeling, but I will always be here for you. Rengoku-san will not be forgotten, and he will always live in our hearts and memories.

Be kind to yourself, Tanjiro. You mean the whole world to me.

- [ L / N ] [ Y / N ]

Tanjiro chuckles softly at the letter, and holds it close to his chest. He sniffles as he flutters his eyes close, the corners of his mouth turning up into a thankful grin.

"Thank you, [ Y / N.]"

--

Months pass, another mission comes by after the completion of another mission. As the weeks gone by, you could find yourself growing stronger each passing day.

During your time apart, you and Tanjiro would often exchange letters. Usually, it was him describing his missions in full detail and how Zenitsu and Inosuke were doing as they worked alongside with each other. Every now and then, little scratches and odd pen marks will decorate the surface of the paper, which you could only assume is Nezuko's doing.

You, on the other hand, would also write about your missions. Occasionally, you would tell him about random stuff, little things on your mind as you go about your day.

One thing remains constant, though. The two of you would always end a letter with a heartfelt sentence that became your little way of saying "I love you" for each other.  

"You mean the whole world to me."

Today, me, Inosuke, and Zenitsu went to Yoshiwara with Uzui-san. He basically forced us to come with him, because he wouldn't stop harassing the poor girls back at the Butterfly Estate if we didn't go. He said he was looking for his three wives, as they stopped contacting him after going undercover to find a demon in the district. Can you believe it? Three wives?!

When we arrived, Uzui-san immediately dressed us up as girls and we were sent off to brothels where we could hopefully find the demon causing havoc in the area. Honestly, I'm kind of glad that you weren't here to see me. Not because I don't want you to be with me, no no no! I actually miss you so much and I just want see you again and I just-

It's because I looked absolutely ridiculous! Seriously, it was a miracle that I was able to pass up as a girl!

Anyway, it's my first night here, and so far, there's no sign of a demon. There's been rumors going around about young women suddenly committing suicide without explanation. There's something fishy going on around here, that's for sure.

I'm going to end my letter here. Tomorrow's another day, and we will do our best to make this mission a success.

Stay safe, [ Y / N ].

You mean the whole world to me.

- Kamado Tanjiro

Of course, there were moments where you were worried sick for the boy. When news broke out that the Sound Pillar and the trio defeated Upper Moon 6 in the Red Light District, you were absolutely ecstatic. Another Upper Moon had been slain, and you couldn't be more proud  for the trio.

That is, until Tanjiro abruptly stopped sending letters.

During those moments, you could only send letters to the Butterfly Estate, asking about Tanjiro's health and condition. You tried not to get your emotions get the best you, but you couldn't help it. Not when Tanjiro was laying in a bed, unconscious, and out of your reach.

You found comfort of the letters that replied to you. Kanao, the Butterfly Pillar's Tsuguko, started writing back to you, and kept you up-to-date of Tanjiro's well-being that would soothe your anxious nerves. You were thankful for her, as she would always write back to you every night without fail.  

Gradually, you began to get to know her, and eventually thought of her as a friend. Since she was a little shy, you gladly told her about your days and endless missions, and maybe a little bit of jokes and puns to lighten up her day.

It wasn't long too until she started talking about the things she liked, like how she enjoys blowing soap bubbles and considers it a hobby. She would also talk about how she likes sweets and accessories, squishing cat paws and helping with the cooking at the Butterfly Estate.

Who knew, that the girl who wrecked you mercilessly during your Rehabilitation training was actually such a lovely and adorable girl who enjoyed the little things in life?

When Tanjiro finally recovered, you never stopped sending letters to Kanao. She was a fun pen pal and a friend to have, because she would listen to each time you would either rant about your day or just say some dumb puns when you're too bored to function.

One day, Tanjiro told you that he was going to the Swordsmith Village to ask for a replacement for his sword. That night, he spoke of how the Love Pillar and the Mist Pillar were present in the village, and how he had the chance of speaking to Genya Shinazugawa, the Wind Pillar's younger brother.

For days on end, the Crimson-eyed slayer would tell you about a training doll that mimicked the strongest Demon Slayer who ever lived. He would rant endlessly, telling you about a swordsmith who trained him to the bone without food and water. He told you, one day, he accidentally smashed the doll into pieces, revealing a worn and old sword hidden inside of it.

You snickered, and you could already hear Tanjiro's voice, which was loaded with panic and anxiety, just by reading the contents of his letters.

You were pleasantly shocked the next day, when your Crow announced the news of the deaths of Upper Moon Five and Upper Moon Four.

Tanjiro was like a magnet for the Upper Moons, and you can't help but feel a heavy sensation in the depths of your stomach.

It felt like the calm before the storm, as after Tanjiro's experience in the Swordsmith Village, there was a rapid decline in Demon activity all across the country.

--

However, it seemed like the crow didn't exactly tell you everything regarding the Village's aftermath.

After what seemed like forever, you made your way back to the Butterfly Estate. Since demons have not been running all over the place, there weren't as much many missions as there was before. Your crow yelled at you to go back to the estate, but hey, you weren't complaining about that.

You couldn't contain the excitement, a giddy expression ever present on your face. Each step brought you closer to your destination, and as the Estate finally presented itself to your vision, you practically skipped your way in order to reach the area faster.

You heard shouting in the distance. There were cries of panic, seemingly asking someone to come back. You didn't stop your hurried pace, but your eyes widened in both joy and shock when you saw the familiar raven locks of your demon friend, who was now running towards you at full speed.

In broad daylight.

"[ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]!" Nezuko cries out in joy, jumping at you with all of her strength. You couldn't react on time as she lands on you, and the both of you tumbled to the ground. She was hugging you, a hand affixed on top of your head, patting it relentlessly.

"Oof! Hi, Nezuko!" You laughed at her antics, and hugged her back without hesitation.

You were confused, that's for sure. Even though you were absolutely overjoyed to see your friend, your mind was screaming confused thoughts on how on earth she was able to hug you underneath the blazing sun. Not only that, she was not wearing her usual bamboo muzzle and she spoke your name! She actually spoke! Her voice was absolutely adorable!

"Welcome back!" She cheered happily, and you already feel yourself melt into a puddle at how cute she was acting. She continued to nuzzle onto you, and you felt a sense of pride knowing that an incredibly cute and sweet girl was aggressively showering you with love and affection.

"EH?! [ Y / N ]'S BACK! SHE'S BACK!" You snapped your head to the source, and beamed at the sight of Zenitsu calling out to the residents of the estate, signalling your arrival.

"It's nice to see you again, Zenitsu!" You called out and waved at him, a bright smile present on your face. You couldn't really move, not when Nezuko wasn't done hugging you and spoiling you rotten with her affection.

Zenitsu's eyes widened for a second, until he began jumping around and screaming out a series of chants like the madman he is.

"REALLY? IT'S REALLY NICE TO SEE ME AGAIN?! AW! DON'T FLATTER ME, [ Y / N ]! YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME BEFORE THAT YOU HELD ME IN SUCH A HIGH REGARD! YOU KNOW, IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO ASK FOR MY HAND IN MARRIAGE!"

Your smile began to fade, and you could look at him with utter dismay as he proceeded to yell out nonsense.

But then, a familiar voice calls out. The voice that you've yearned to hear for months, as it makes your heart skip a beat as it gets louder and closer.

Tanjiro comes out from the estate, looking around frantically, a desperate expression evident in his gentle features. He looks at your direction and he goes stiff as a statue the moment he locks eyes with you. His eyes began to water, his lower lip quivering from the sight of you.

He races up to you, rivaling with the pace Nezuko had when she assaulted you. Instantaneously, he engulfs you in his loving embrace, and you couldn't hold back your giggles and laughter as he proceeded to wreak havoc on your face with little kisses.

Nezuko lets out a sound of pleasure and releases her hold on you. She watched her brother as he coddled you with so much attention, and she clapped happily at the sight.

After what seemed like ages, Tanjiro stopped attacking your face with kisses and raised a hand to softly caress your cheek. His crimson-hues looked at you with so much passion and adoration, and you gazed at him lovingly in reciprocation.

Slowly he leans in to you, his forehead brushing yours. The corners of his mouth are pulled up, a ridiculously goofy expression adoring his features. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because of the close proximity to his face, but still, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster up.

He chuckles and closes his eyes, nuzzling on you as he holds you in his arms protectively.

"I missed you. So, so much." He breathes out, and you giggle as his warm breath fans your flushed face.

"I missed you too, you big baby." You fluttered your [ E / C ] close, holding him tight and not wanting to let go.

After months of hardship, stress, and pain, you find yourself once again welcomed by your home and your world.

You spent the next few days roaming around the estate, with Tanjiro beside you, holding your hand at every moment. Not just that, you've got to spend time in the garden with Nezuko again! Only this time, you were accompanied by the presence of Zenitsu, Inosuke, and even Kanao!

Each day was filled with laughter and joy. Even when the Hashiras decided to train every slayer in harsh training routines, your happiness never faded. Given the sweat and soreness of your muscles as you shift from one Hashira to another, you would always be rewarded with the sight of the bright stars shining brightly over all of you.

But one day, that happiness seemed to fade away. The devastation and cruelty that you had faced before came back from the ashes of the past, as each second escalated into the catastrophic hell that you were now forced to face.

One night, every Hashira unexpectedly went on a high alert. You couldn't understand what was going on, and you were even more perplexed when Tanjiro suddenly asked you to stay alert and left in a haste. You stood beside the campfire, confused, and you couldn't control the familiar feeling of dread swallowing you up again.

Your instinct was telling you that something terrible and unprecedented was about to happen. Your heart was thumping uncontrollably on your chest, as you started to sweat and tremble from the overwhelming feeling of uncertainty that made shivers run up to your spine.

Unfortunately, your fears were confirmed when a loud explosion was heard in the distance.

You gasped, as you felt the ground suddenly disappear. You couldn't respond quickly, your mind spinning out of control as you fell down to a fortress filled with demons that seemed to stretch out forever.

You breath hitched as you came back to your senses. You looked around, trying to find something or somewhere that could end your endless free fall. You felt a sense of hope as an area where you could land safely came into view. Your eyebrows were knit together, mouth clenching as you performed a breathing technique and landed swiftly at the edge of the structure.

The moment you landed, demons started to flock towards you. Your blood began to boil, rage rapidly overcoming you. You unsheathed out your sword, tightened your grip on the handle, and immediately slashed your way through the hordes of demons. It was then you realized, that it was the beginning of the end, and that it was going to be a long night.

In a blink of an eye, smiles turned into anger, laughter turned into screams, as what was once happiness was now destroyed and replaced by rage and anguish.

And whenever happiness is destroyed,

There's always the smell of blood.

--

Hours of endless bloodshed. Thousands upon thousands of casualties had rained upon the ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps. You had seen the brutal fighting with your very own eyes, and the rage only intensified with each life taken by the hands of those ruthless demons.

The Twelve Demon Moons had perished. But at the cost of their heads, were the lives of your mentors, comrades, and friends.

However, it finally seemed like their sacrifices were not in vain.

The sun had risen, and Muzan Kibutsuji howled out in pain as the sun's fiery rays started to burn him. He had taken the form of a large, hideous baby, as he desperately tries to hide away from the sun's burning gaze.

Almost everybody was severely injured; there were severed limbs, large gashes, and heavily bleeding wounds.  

Despite the overwhelming pain, the remaining slayers continued to fight on, too high on adrenaline and determination in order to bring Muzan to his demise. Everybody held on, performing everything they could do to make the Demon King roast under the sunlight and suffer for his crimes.

Right now, you were driving a bus, speeding towards the crawling abomination. You slammed on the pedals, accelerating at full speed as you rammed into the enormous, yet horrific excuse of a baby.

"Stay down, you bastard!" You yelled out, a dangerous glint twinkling in your eyes as you couldn't help the sides lips tugging up into smug smirk.

You jumped out of the vehicle right before a big hand smashed the front portion, as a voice commands you and nearby Kakushi to push the back portion to block Muzan from moving further. You all gathered together and pushed with all your remaining strength, yells of determination echoing out to stop Muzan from going further.

Your eyes widen as a large hand rises, but before he could smash you all into pieces, the Wind Pillar successfully cut off it's hand on time. You all continued to push, but Muzan was starting to overpower you all and was slowly going over the vehicle.

Then, you heard the loud clank of chains, and saw the monster stumble back as a large chain had wrapped itself on the demon's neck, forcing him to stay in place. You all moved out, and went to the Stone Pillar, aiding him by holding him in place as he uses all his power to grip unto the chains in order to pin the beast down. Muzan hollered out, as he continued to burn under the sun.

Determined to find shade and escape death, the huge monstrosity resorted to dig himself into the earth. The Hashiras then took turns attacking the abomination, attempting to wear off its stamina. All hope seemed lost, as the chains, and all of your energy rapidly depleted as Muzan continued his struggle.

Then, against all odds, the demon throws his head back in a final, ear piercing scream. Gigantic tears fell down from it's hideous face, and after what seemed like eternity, it's body finally crumbled into nothingness.

There was a pause. You all held your breath, the heavy tension in the air suffocating you all. Disbelief was evident on your faces, as you could not properly process what had just gone down.

Then, you all erupted into loud yells of victory.

Muzan is dead. The Demon Slayers had won.

You all cried out in happiness. Centuries of battle, bloodshed, and death finally bearing its fruit. Everyone embraced each other, beaming smiles present in every slayer's face as the shouts of triumph echoed across the battlefield.

"It's not over yet!" A Kakushi yells out, "Stand up! Treat the wounded! Don't cry, you fools, stay focused! We can save them!" You all looked around, and saw the bodies of several Hashira and Demon Slayers slumped up all around. The celebration ceased as everybody started to scatter; newly found strength flooding them as they sought out to save the heavily injured.

In your peripheral vision, you saw Kanao hunched up and unconscious, and she was being tended by several Kakushi. You ran up to her, and your jaw clenched as you observed the injuries and blows she had taken. You kneeled down, and asked for one of them for bandages so you could help patch up your friend.

As you started to wrap up some of Kanao's injuries, lilac hues started to flutter open. She takes a moment to look at her surroundings, and when she sees you and a few Kakushi patching her up, her lips formed a small yet grateful smile.

"...Thank you."

Your eyes darted to look up to the voice, you gasped in relief and your expression brightened as Kanao weakly gives you a wry smile.  

You stared at her, the corners of your mouth tugging up and your eyes flickering with gratitude. After wrapping her wounds, you gently took her hand and encased it with your own.

"We won, Kanao." You whispered. Shutting your eyes close, you recalled the memories of how hard she fought against Muzan, along with Zenitsu, Inosuke, and the Hashiras. The ravenette just paused, and her mouth falling open as she was reflecting on what you had just told to her. Then, she breathes out in delight, and slowly raised her other hand to caress your own. Kanao's whole face lit up, and she beams at you, nodding her head in appreciation.

But then, suddenly, in the corner of her vision, something captures Kanao's attention. She stiffened, and her hand started to tremble under your gentle hold. Her forehead furrowed and she struggled to find her voice.

" [ Y - Y / N ]-chan..!"

You opened your [ E / C ] eyes, and glanced at your friend's facial features. You grew concerned, trying to make sense as to why she was shaking and sweating so much. Then, loud shouts began to echo and you felt a heavy sensation start to enclose your chest. You started to tremble, the loud yells becoming more frantic by each second. The feeling of dread returned, seemingly to taunt you as goosebumps rapidly washed over you. The girl returned her attention to your bewildered expression, her lilac orbs filled with worry and regret.

You hesitantly turned around and looked to where Kanao had her gaze on to figure out the source of her behavior. Instantaneously, your eyebrows elevated, a hand immediately clasping your mouth. Your eyes welled up in tears and the cries of distress escaped away as you stomached in the scene before you.

You stared ahead to meet the figure of your beloved Tanjiro.

But he didn't look like your Tanjiro.

A beast roared out, screaming and assaulting any being that was attempting to get close to him. You saw a glimpse of Zenitsu and Inosuke trying to hold back your transformed lover, the Water Pillar frantically yelling orders not get close to the boy, but to no avail.

It felt like the whole world had shattered right before your very eyes. You struggled to swallow back the bile rising to your throat, your breathes becoming more erratic as the hot tears endlessly fall from your eyes. You become absolutely racked with sobs, the heavy feeling on your chest intensifying to the point of suffocating you.

"Stop crying!"  You mentally scold yourself. "Now is not the time to cry! You have to help! You have to save him!"

But you couldn't move. You couldn't speak. You couldn't do anything but wail out in absolute heartbreak as Tanjiro further succumbed into hysteria.

No matter how hard you tried, your feet were glued to the ground. Your mind hurled insults, screaming at you to step forward, to run, and try to save your beloved. You could only look up to the heavens, reciting a silent prayer pleading to every Deity who was listening to stop this madness.

In the midst of your emotional turmoil, you have flashes of what once was. You recall how Tanjiro would hold you in moments of peace, how his eyes would fill up with tenderness and love whenever you locked eyes with him, and how his beaming smile seemed to brighten up even your darkest days.

Your heart continues to pound painfully in your chest as you gasp out endless incoherent breathes. You could hear his loving voice resonate in your head, your cries becoming more erratic at the thought that you could never hear his warmth-filled sound again.

"You mean the whole world to me, [ Y / N ]."

You could only look helplessly as the now human Nezuko began to cry out to her corrupted brother, holding him in place so that he could no longer hurt more people. Tanjiro continued to screech and thrash in the sister's grasp, his screams releasing powerful waves of energy that would blowed away anyone who had even dared to come near him.

Zenitsu and Inosuke were swept away by the strong shockwaves, but Nezuko never weakened her grasp, as she continues to hold on to her brother desperately. Tanjiro dropped down, the sound of the tearing cloth ringing around as massive and sharp tentacles exploded out of his back. Zenitsu cries out, terror overtaking his face as he desperately reaches out to save Nezuko.

But something still puzzles you. Your stomach still twisted at the sight of Nezuko bleeding, but what was perplexing was that Tanjiro declined to bite his sister. Even though he had a taste of his sister's blood, he resisted and refused to attack her.

Maybe, just maybe, your Tanjiro was still there, fighting to break free from his eternal prison.

"[ Y / N ]-chan." Kanao calls out. You snap out of you emotional daze and faced the girl. She looked at you with a hopeful expression, and she takes out a small box from her belt.

"We can still save him..." She starts, opening the box to reveal an injection. "My master gave this to me, and she said that this is medicine made out of Wisteria flowers that could turn demons back into humans."

Kanao coughs up blood, her face scrunching up as she groans out in discomfort. She stumbles forward because of the pain, and you instantly hold her to prevent her from falling to the ground. She looks up to you, and gives you a sad smile.

"Tanjiro turned into a demon just now. Even if I could evade his attacks with one eye, my injuries could get the best of me." She coughs again, placing a hand to her re-opened wound on her waist. She takes your hand and places the injection on it.

"There's still time, [ Y / N ]. Tanjiro loves you too much to even raise a hand at you."  

You looked down at the injection, your eyes filled with renewed determination. You nodded in agreement, then took long breaths to calm yourself down. You knew what you needed to do, and now, you could save him.

You wiped the trails of dried tears on your face, eyebrows drewn together as your expression hardened. Tightening your grip on the object, you stood up and turned around to confront Tanjiro.

"Thank you." You breathed out, forever grateful to Kanao for giving you this oppurtunity.

You inhaled deeply, oxygen rapidly flooding your veins. You could feel your muscles become stronger each second, as adrenaline fills you once more. Bursts of energy traveled all across your body, giving you the courage and power you needed to pull this off. You focused your strength on your legs, and in a flash, you dashed towards your lover.

"Tanjiro.."

The demon takes notice of a presence rapidly approaching him. He growls and turns his attention towards you. Scowling, he screeches loudly, tentacles aggressively whipping around at all angles to attack you.

"When this is all over, let's make our own world,"

You looked up to meet his eyes, and you were with scarlet ones, which were filled with hatred and rage. Your breathe hitches momentarily as a shiver ran up to your spine.

"A world where no one could tears us apart."

Tanjiro had never looked at you with such hostility before. However, you didn't let that faze you as you continuously dodged his never ending assaults against you.

"Enough is enough, Tanjiro."

You jumped and evaded the whips his tentacles threw at you. Then, an opening presents itself, your eyes dilating and you bolted even closer until you came face to face with the demon.

"You musn't make Nezuko cry."

Tanjiro howls out loudly, and he raises a hand with the intent to smash you. You quickly caught the glimpse of his clenched fist, and you leapt, avoiding his arm as it plunged downwards with such speed and strength.

"Come back to us, and you won't be ever lost again,"

You swore everything looked like it was in slow motion. In that moment, a bright light engulfed your surroundings. Your body flew above the demon, and when his back came into full view, you immediately pushed the cure into him. Tears shone in your [ E / C ] orbs, as a love-filled smile appeared on your features.

You didn't even feel the pain when a rouge tentacle managed to successfully pierce itself into you. Your tender gaze never left the boy, and you finally breathed out in relief. You fluttered your eyes close, and you tumbled helplessly against the surface.

"You are the whole world to me."

"[ Y / N]!" Nezuko calls out to you, her face contorted into one of pure horror as she watches your body make harsh contact with the ground.

Suddenly, Tanjiro stops moving. His tentacles ceased it's assaults, and slowly, but surely, it retreats back into his body. The boy to started to shake uncontrollably, exhaling out heavy breathes as his eyes trembled wildly as he stares at the sight of your injured body.

With all the remaining strength you could muster up, you looked up to the demon. Instead of the hatred and rage you had saw moments ago, Tanjiro's Scarlet-hues were filled with regret. Tears ran down his cheeks, sadness clouding over his demonic features.

You inhaled softly, and with each passing moment, you saw his eyes slowly turn back into the Crimson colored orbs that you loved so much. As seconds pass by, your vision began to darken. Exhaling out in exhaustion, you felt thankful that you get to see a glimpse of your Tanjiro once more. You heard loud shouts resound through the field, feeling something tending to your wounds before your sight was further consumed by darkness as you fell into unconsciousness.

--

" -Ma..?"

" -Ma!"

"Mama!"

You jolt up in surprise, trying to catch your breath as cold sweat falls down from the side of your face.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, and you could find yourself sitting in a bench that was located at an open lake. Sakura trees were abundant, and their beauty was obviously not overlooked as pink blossoms flew around with the cool spring breeze. Flora was flourishing all over, and the sounds of the little animals living in the lake was prominent.

A nightmare? You thought. Sighing deeply, you let yourself fall back in the bench where you were sitting on. A small hand shakes on your own frantically, as you turned your head and smiled softly as a gigantic pair of eyes, clearly filled with worry, gazed into your own.

"I'm sorry, Takeo. Did Mama scare you?" You chuckled, as the child in front of you pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Stop dozing off like that! I was really worried when you started to cry in your sleep again!" Takeo exclaims out, puffing out his cheeks as he stomped on his foot in annoyance.

You laughed at his antics, your melodic voice echoing across the peaceful lake. You leaned forward and raised a hand to gently pat your son's head. The boy looked almost the same as you, seeing as he inherited your complexion, your facial features, and even your [H / C] hair.

There was one thing, though, that distinguished him from looking like a complete carbon copy of you.

He had Crimson colored eyes that he inherited from his father.

Takeo continues to huff out in annoyance, but he couldn't fight the flush rising up to his face from your act of affection towards him. Whether he was going to deny it or not, it was an irrefutable fact that he loved getting his head pats. As you observed Takeo's features, you felt warmth and tenderness embracing your chest. You pulled your hand away from his head and just chuckled at his failed attempts of trying to look angry at you.

"Papa asked me to fetch you, ya know.." Takeo mumbles, his Crimson-orbs looking away from you in embarrassment. "He says that Aunt Nezuko and Uncle Zenitsu are coming over today, along with Uncle Inosuke and Aunt Kanao. He figured that you would be glad to see them again."

"I see." You whispered. Your mouth slowly into a grin, and you nodded gratefully. You felt excitement and joy bubble up in you, as you beamed brightly to your son. "Thank you, Takeo. I'm absolutely delighted to hear that they're coming to visit today."

Slowly, you stood up from the bench, one hand holding on your son's arm for support and the other caressing your swollen belly. You looked up to the heavens, eyes sparkling with gratitude as a thankful sigh escaped from your lips. You shifted your attention away from the blue sky, and softly held your son's hand as you began your way back home.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

Once upon a dream, you never thought the possibility of true love coming to you all your life.

Growing up in a demon infested world, life seemed to be fond of throwing you into hardships and struggle. Despite the horrors of the world, you always persevered. For every challenge that has been hurled towards you, the tribulations have only made you grow stronger and better.

Your life may had started out roughly, but that doesn't mean that it did not change for the better. The endless bloodshed had become relics of the past, moments of time that helped shape the world as it is now.

Recalling those moments of uncertainty, the rays of sunlight peeking through what was once the dark and gloomy clouds had now completely engulfed your life with warmth and tenderness. What you once wanted to experience all those years ago, has now become your reality. The little bits of happiness that you yearned for, now held onto you, never wanting to leave any time soon.

As you get closer to your home, you could hear the voices of children laughing and playing. Soon, you saw a glimpse of your humble abode, and little kids that looked similarly to you and your husband came into view. Takeo releases his hold on you, and he excitedly makes his way towards his siblings. Your expression brightened, a permanent smile present on your face as you took in the sight of your children frolicking around with happiness evident in their faces.

Then, a warm hand snakes over your waist, pulling you towards a broad chest that belonged to your lover. You couldn't contain your giggles as your face was immediately assaulted by small pecks and kisses. His hanafuda earrings seemed to ring each time he moved his head, his long ponytail swaying alongside with the cool breeze. His crimson-eyes gleamed in adoration as he gazes into your own, an adorable grin affixed in his lips as he continued to lock you in his protective embrace.

Sakura petals flew all around, encasing your surroundings with a sense of peace and serenity. After years of struggle, you can finally wake up in the morning without the likelihood of a horrible and painful death looming over you, as your cruel and dark world was now behind you.

Those dark days were long over. Now that you had finally avenged your family and the numerous deaths Muzan Kibutsuji has inflicted upon humanity, you could finally spend the rest of your life in peace.

Now, you had finally found a place to call your home. With him, you had created a whole new world. A world that was overflowing with love and happiness. Now that he would always stay by your side, you won't have to be lost anymore.

Tanjiro lifts up a hand to softly caress your cheek, gazing at you with so much love and adoration. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he fluttered his eyes close and slowly leaned forward. Your expression softened, and you chuckled softly as you put your arms around his shoulders. Your eyelids close shut as you felt your chest swell up with so much emotion, as his lips finally captured yours into a love-filled kiss.

"You are the whole world to me, [ Y / N]."

( a/n: thank you, thank you, thank you so much for following “my world”! it means so much to me that some of you had taken a liking on this series :’D im sorry if there were mistakes and ooc-ness along the way;;;

thank you for reading, and stay safe! you all mean the whole world to me <3)

[astertataricvs]

Hello! I got this idea from ch 136 where Giyuu thinks if he brings Sanemi his favorite food they'll become friends and it's just so pure and cute, I want to cry ;~; So could you do a scenario/imagine where Giyuu has a crush on the reader and as we know, our precious bean isn't good at socializing and so he wants to do something nice for them and like, buys a cute hairpin he got on one of his missions for them, or something

Sorry for the wait anon! I hope you like this one! Enjoy! 💖

Word count: 3.4k+

Giyuu didn’t expect this, he didn’t expect that there will be a time that this is going to occur in his life, especially since he’s too devoted from being a demon hunter and obliterate all the demons that were breathing and existing in this wonderful world. Moreover, he’s still not hung up at Sabito’s death and the same as his sister. That is why he didn’t give it a thought before and to be more specific, he’s not the type of man who would want to get involved in such an inconsequential situation, he’s already a mess so why would he involve other people in his life? However, fate had lured him into the little pits of happiness.

And that was falling for you.

At first, Giyuu didn’t search deeper about the unknown emotions he was feeling whenever he sees your smiling face and would just gawk how you’d look at him with fondness apparent in your eyes. He doesn’t know why his heart would thump for an untold reason, but he would admit to himself, he liked the feeling; the warm and fuzzy feeling within his heart and the way how he could feel the tingling sensation fabricating in his stomach.

As the days go on, the feelings he had gradually heightened every time he would take a glimpse at your face giving such a lighthearted smile and looking at him with tenderness evident in that (colour) sumptuous orbs.

Giyuu’s heart would flutter every time your eyes would dart on his figure and then flash him the smile that you’d also show everyone. He doesn’t know why he’s so mesmerized from staring at your lovely face, but one thing for sure, he likes how his ocean blue orbs would land on your figure. He likes how he would witness you being compassionate towards everyone and it seemed like the world was being bright and colourful in his vision. The feeling is like every little corner of the area where you at, it felt like the whole place would gleam with your bright and cheerful character.

It was indeed shocking for him, he tried avoiding you but whenever you’re going to talk to him with that soft and melodious voice of yours, it was already game over for him. His feet would stick on the ground as his ears would attentively listen to any words that would come out from your mouth. He was captivated at your face giving him such a pure kind expression and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

You look like an angel in the heavens that God had created, just by looking at you, it would immediately calm his nerves and forget the burdens that he has for a moment. Just a single graze of your fingers on his skin would eventually soothe him and he doesn’t want to admit it but… he really likes the feeling of your delicate touches as if he was the rarest gem that everyone hasn’t seen before.

He thought he was sick or something due to how he would feel the strange emotions he’d sense whenever he’s with you. But thanks to the couples he would across when he’s on his mission, he finally discerned that he indeed fell for such an angel like you that he doesn’t deserve.

You are a grotesque beauty that he doesn’t want to stain. That’s the reason why he’s eluding you with all his might, however, it’s hard; it’s difficult to evade you because in just by hearing your sweet voice and seeing your lovely visage would render him starstruck. It would automatically lure him out and he couldn’t restrain himself from eluding you and just run away.

Why are you doing this to him? What did you do to him? It felt like he’s one of your captives that you can control immediately.

Giyuu’s mission had finally ended and it’s his time to return to his home. He chose the route where a small town was teeming with lots of villagers walking through the streets. There are also stalls at the corner where everyone was trying to purchase for their necessities or wants.

While he was in his walk, a stall swiftly caught his attention; it was a stall where several hairpins and women’s accessories are being displayed. The accessories have intricate designs and he couldn’t help but suddenly envision you in his mind and he doesn’t know the reason as well. He thought that those accessories will definitely suit you the best if you would wear one of them.

Suddenly, an idea protruded in his mind as he thought of buying you something from that store. But his mind was in deep thoughts; thinking of any possible reasons that he will give when you ask him why he’s giving you such a present.

Fortunately, a good reason came across his mind. A present of appreciation, since you’re being kind to him all this time despite that he’s giving you a hint that he’s avoiding you. But is he really avoiding you? He couldn’t even command himself to elude you because you’re too irresistible for his own good.

But truthfully speaking, there’s also another meaning behind why he wants to give you a present. Because it will be his… symbol of love.

Giyuu absentmindedly scooted towards the said stall and deliberately searched for any accessory that would perfectly suit you.

“Young man, I can guess that you’re going to buy something for your girlfriend, is it?” The old lady interrupted him from his search, and this caught Giyuu’s attention, looking at her with a bit surprised countenance.

The Water pillar didn’t respond and just eyed the old lady, slyly smiling at him.

Girlfriend? You? His girlfriend? You are definitely not, and he will never be your significant other since you deserve much more - better than him who’s incompetent and a mess. He is not worthy to be with you, you’re too much for him. You are too beautiful to be tarnished with the likes of him.

“Young man, you don’t have to be shy! I know your girlfriend is the sweetest and beautiful! If you want to give her a present, I have lots of accessories here that will suit your girl. Just look at what you like!”

The old lady cheered and showed him all the accessories that her stall has. Giyuu didn’t reply and merely looked at the numerous and decorative accessories that the old lady is selling. As he was strolling his eyes on the displayed accessories, his eyes abruptly caught a hairpin with a crescent moon design. It’s simplistic yet elegant, the crescent moon is glittering because of the sun rays striking its little diamonds.

The old lady followed Giyuu’s vision and saw what he was looking at. She let out a light chuckle and takes the hairpin from its place.

“You had a good eye, young man. This is indeed beautiful and it will definitely suit her,” she says and places the hairpin in a small paper bag. “It’s 250 yen and for you, I’ll give it a discount, only 200.”

Giyuu blinks a few times before nodding. He handed the old lady the money and took the paper bag from her.

“Thank you…” he uttered which makes the old lady smile.

“Thank you as well.”

Giyuu was on his way home with the present in his pocket. He decided that he’s going to give you the hairpin tomorrow since the sun is finally falling and the night will arrive soon. As he was walking back to his abode, he suddenly spotted a figure trudging towards his direction. He adjusted his eyesight to take a good look at the woman, and subsequently, his body instantly went rigid once he clearly saw your face.

It was you, holding a bunch of red carnation flowers as you also match his shocked expression when your eyes met at each other.

Giyuu doesn’t know what he would say since he didn’t anticipate that he will see you this soon. Moreover, what made him speechless is the mere fact that the ocherous hues of the sunset were perfectly striking your attractive features, seemingly defining your entire existence as if you were glowing under the dazzling rays of the sunset. And it was inevitable for him not to stare at you, especially since you’re not wearing the standard uniform that he’d always see every time you two would meet. You were wearing a (colour) (pattern) kimono and your hair was tied into an updo.

The water pillar was mesmerized, he was utterly captivated by your appearance. He isn’t used to seeing you wearing a kimono and this is the very first time he saw you in that outfit.

And once again, you enthralled him.

“Tomioka-san?” Your sweet voice echoed in his ears which causes Giyuu to blink and stare into your eyes. “You just came back from your mission?”

The ravenette merely nodded in response. You give him a smile as the soft calming wind of the late afternoon passes across your bodies. The leaves of the trees swayed along with the wind, composing a rustling sound while birds are flapping its wings to go back to their homes.

The silent atmosphere didn’t proffer you gaucherie, but instead, it gave a soothing and peaceful tension between both of you.

While you both were gazing into each other’s eyes, Giyuu’s mind was debating whether he should give you the present he bought or just give it to you tomorrow. However, his timidness was hindering him to give it to you because he’s not good at socialising with others specifically that this will be the first time he will give a present to someone.

What if you don’t like the gift? What if you refuse taking it? Then he won’t know what he will do afterwards. It will be extremely cumbersome for both of you and his last vanity will dwindle. He might not even take a glimpse at you nor be close with you if you don’t like it.

“Are you okay, Tomioka-san? You’re sweating a lot,” you worriedly asked and looked at him with concern.

Said man snapped out from his thoughts and lifted his vision to gaze at you for a moment. Giyuu suddenly felt cold sweats running on his forehead and neck, he’s overthinking too much because he doesn’t want it to become awkward between you two when he gives you his present.

He can feel his heart hammering excessively in his chest and hands sweating due to his vehemence. Giyuu was about to excuse himself and run away but he was frozen in his spot when he felt someone damping a handkerchief on his forehead to wipe the sweat, he’s discharging.

Giyuu’s eyes widened upon seeing your face in front of him within proximity. The smile on your face didn’t fade as you kept on wiping off his sweat. You had no idea how Giyuu wants to melt at your abrupt action and his heart is gonna explode soon. His legs were becoming jelly and he can feel his blood rushing up to his face.

Why are doing this to him? Why are you making him feel this way? His heart is vigorously thumping. Why is he falling for you even harder?

“There! You’re perfectly fine now!” You enthused before stepping back to give Giyuu his space. “You should rest now, Tomioka-san, I know how tired you are from your mission so you can go now. Thank you for your hard work.”

The heart-melting smile you just gave him makes his stomach flutter and he is certain that he was again wrapped by your fingers. He couldn’t help himself but gawk at your beauty and he just wanted to engulf you with a hug if he only has the tenacity to do it.

You’re always giving him the feeling of summer, the heat of the season that would undeniably match how his face would instantly erupt in flames because of your sudden actions that will catch him off guard.

His feelings for you were growing every day that would pass, these sentiments he has for you, he couldn’t suppress it anymore because of how overwhelming it was. Now Giyuu had finally decided, it’s the perfect time where he must give you the hairpin and he doesn’t want to slip this chance away, especially since you were alone underneath the sunset of the day. He won’t back away now.

“(Last name).”

You turned your head to gaze at Giyuu who’s looking at you full of gravity. His eyes were ablaze like they were penetrating right into your soul, his ocean-like eyes were very deep that you couldn’t avert your gaze away because of how mesmerizing it was. To put it simply, Giyuu immediately caught your attention and he’s too gorgeous in your eyes to even not look at.

“Yes?” You bewilderedly asked while tilting your head.

The Water pillar moistened his lips before fondling in his pockets. You were confused about what he was doing but after Giyuu finally took the present he has for you, it didn’t take him seconds to hand the stuff that he brought for you.

You were astounded, stunned and all synonymous to shock can define the expression you’re making at this moment. You only scrutinize the small paper bag in his hand while Giyuu was looking at his side without glancing at you. Your mouth was agape as you only stared at him with disbelief.

Despite that Giyuu didn’t even say anything because you knew how quiet the Water pillar is, you can instantly distinguish what he was betokening with his mere gestures. His words will express through subtle actions and it was easy for you to discern it.

At this current moment, you already know that Giyuu wants to give you the small paper bag in his hand. Since you were curious, it took you a minute to get the small paper bag since you were reluctant as well. Your face was sprinkled with red hues due to how flustered you were. Furthermore, your heart was tremendously pounding to which you prayed to the Gods that Giyuu won’t hear the fast beating of your heart.

“W-What is this, Tomioka-san?” You questioned and Giyuu took a glimpse at you.

“A gift from me…”

His answer only fueled your blushing face and the beat of your heart. It seems like, you can’t breathe because of how your poor little organ vigorously pounding inside your chest.

You suck some air and bit your lower lip. “Can I open it?”

“Hmm…”

Gulping, you opened the small paper bag and once you peeked what was inside; your eyes suddenly went wide and hastily lifted your chin to gaze at Giyuu. Your lips were a bit separated as you took the cute little hairpin inside the bag.

It was indeed beautiful, the crescent moon that has little diamonds on it and it was glittering because of the rays of the sunset that was hitting the little hairpin. You didn’t know what to say, you were indeed stupefied at how beautiful it was, it’s simple yet stunning. You couldn’t express how pleased you were especially that Giyuu, your long-time crush had given you this. You were going to treasure this until you die.

“Thank you, Tomioka-san… it’s really beautiful,” you said in awe and thus, you flash him a toothy grin that causes Giyuu’s eyes to shot open and feel his heart beating once again for you.

Giyuu was feeling relieved and delighted as well, he was satisfied that you like the present he gave you and you gladly accepted it. His anxiousness was immediately washed away because of you. Even if you didn’t do anything to him, by just seeing your face, hearing your voice and witnessing your smile, his problems would melt away in an instant and he liked that feeling. He likes the feeling you’re giving him, even if you’re not aware of it.

“Here, I’ll give this to you.”

Giyuu was bewildered, you handed him the three red carnations that you’re holding. He didn’t know what to do and to say but he took the flowers you’re giving him. The sweet aroma of the red carnation hits his nose and that makes Giyuu addicted to the smell. It’s just like you, sweet and beautiful and he’s addicted for you.

“Can I wear this right now?” You excitingly asked. You didn’t wait for the Water pillar’s answer and just rapidly used the hairpin in your hair.

Giyuu won’t lie and he will willingly admit it, you look dashing and the hairpin really suits you. He’s internally happy that you’re wearing it right now and he can witness how you will look good at it. He’s glad that he bought it for you and he didn’t regret a single thing. His heart is leaping in joy.

“Thank you for this, Tomioka-san! But I wanna know why you want to give me a present all of a sudden?”

Giyuu’s body flinched upon hearing your question. But he remembered the reason why he wanted to give you a present.

“I just want to say my gratitude for all the great things you’ve done to me…”

Giyuu’s voice was barely audible, his cheeks were beginning to redden and he avoids eye contact with you. Despite the volume of his voice is low, you quite caught what he just stated. Your grin didn’t leave your face but instead, it only grew.

“Then please consider the three carnations as my gift to you as well.”

Giyuu’s lips slightly parted as he blinked a few times before landing his eyes on the flowers he’s holding. A few seconds later, he returned his gaze at you whose warmly smiling at him and gave him a nod.

He was indeed ecstatic, he suddenly felt the emotion that he was lacking for years. It’s been a long time since he’s been this happy, he was delighted that falling for you was the best choice that he had ever made. He thought that these feelings would be a hindrance to him but fortunately, it gives him hope. Falling in love with you is the best feeling and if he didn’t meet you, he guaranteed that he won’t feel this happiness he was feeling at this current moment.

You’re like the moon, a moon who would guide him from his most cryptic days and give him light where he couldn’t see anything anymore but pure darkness. You are the light that gives him hope in his worst days and when darkness was starting to haunt him. He was glad that he met you, he was happy that you exist in his life. You are his moon, his beautiful moon that is beyond reachable. Your pureness and sincerity can make him weak and he just wanted to stare at you forever.

“Thank you…” Giyuu mumbled and for the first time, a genuine smile spreads across his face as he stares at the carnations you gave.

You only smiled and feel the fuzzy feeling within your heart. Seeing him smiling for the first time, you feel like as if the world is shaking and you never have seen such beauty in your entire life. For you, Giyuu is indeed a gorgeous man and he is incredibly an enigma to you, he is indescribable that makes him more beguiling to your eyes.

The red carnation symbolizes love, pride and admiration. Just like Giyuu, he is beautiful, inside or outside, you admired him with all your heart although he’s isolating himself from the pillars and most of all to everyone. His aloofness isn’t a hindrance to your feelings, you still love him either way and you love him with all of his flaws ー even if he’s not good at communicating, you will still love him with passion. Giyuu is your pride, every time you see him, you’d feel confident all of a sudden, he is like a takane no hana that is unreachable for you.

But this time, it feels like you finally reached him. Your arms that were always reaching for him had finally touched his back.

You two don’t know that you have the same feelings you had for each other. A requited love but remain hidden, a love that couldn’t express into words but instead, showing it through discreet actions.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the gift you gave each other has a meaning behind it.

It’s actually… your symbol of love.

[blog20041994punam]

How to use gemstone according to birth date (Numbers and gemstone)

The Gemstone has been playing an imperative role in the field of astrology and numerology. There are 9 gems that has been assigned to the 9 planets. These gems are Ruby, pearl, Red Coral, Emerald, Yellow Sapphire, Diamond, Blue Sapphire, Hessonite and Cat’s eye. Unlike astrology, the gemstone and numerology has its own significance in the realm of numbers. The different astrologers recommend different gemstones based on their own experience and research. Most people have no knowledge about the gemstone they are wearing. Even they are quite in the dark if the gemstone they are wearing is real or fake. There are people who don’t know if the stone is lucky for them or not for them how to use gemstone according to birth date.

Why there are difference of opinion about the selection of the correct gemstone.

There are many reasons as to why the people don’t use correct stone. There are different predictive science such as Vedic astrology, palmistry and numerology etc.

These 3 branches of prognosis has its own rule of remedial measures. The Vedic astrology prescribes gemstone based on ascendant, while palmistry has its own set of rule.

The numerologist does recommend the gemstone based on the date of birth. It has no correlation with astrology and palmistry.

It is very difficult to prescribe lucky stone by the help of palmistry. However, it is not that much difficult to prescribe gems by the help of natal chart and numerology.

Since, these predictive science of astrology, palmistry and numerology has different rules of prescribing, it is quite natural that the gemstone will differ.

Why selection of the gems according to astrology is complicated

The Indian science of Vedic astrology is an oceanic subject. It is not as natural as arithmetic where you expect 4 plus 4 is equal to 8. In astrology, sometimes it might be 8, sometimes 7 and 9. The astrologer needs to work with such environment.

There are many factors taken into account while predicting human fate and recommending gemstone. Hence, there are difference of opinion.

Most of the people do prescribe lucky stone with the help astrology and gemmology.

Indian astrology has multiple methods of recommending gemstone. The first and foremost one is based on ascendant. The 2nd one is based on moon sign or Rashi. The third one is based on Mahadasha. The 4th one is based on Antardasha.

In fact, most of the scriptures do recommend lucky stone based on ascendant. While, some prescribe based on moon sign or Rashi. Some also do recommend gems as per the Mahadasha that the native is experiencing.

There is a reason as to why the nine gems are recommended as per the moon sign. Most of the people are aware of their moon sign. Either their parents have told them or they may have access to the internet where ample of articles and blog are available on the internet.

A layman can easily understand the gemstone as per the moon sign while reading the new papers, magazines and internet.

However, the genuine astrologer do study the chart thoroughly and prescribe the gemstone according to Indian astrology.

Hence, the selection of the gemstone according to ascendant is most acceptable.

How to use numerology to wear your lucky stone

The science of the numerology is by far the easiest tool that can tell you lucky stone effortlessly. Even a layman can have idea about his lucky gems according birth date.

Selection of gems as per numerology is as easy as ABC. You have to simply remember the numbers and the gems assigned to it. I have given the list of gems that is assigned to each number.

Numbers and Gemstones

Number 1 – Ruby

Number 2 – Pearl

Number 3 – Yellow Sapphire

Number 4 – Gomed or Hessonite

Number 5 – Emerald

Number 6 – Diamond

Number 7 – Cat’s eye

Number 8 – Blue Sapphire

Number 9 – Red coral

Ruby gemstone  according to date of birth (person born on 1st, 10th, 19th and 28th of any month of the year)

If you have taken birth on 1st, 10th, 19th and 28th of any month of the year, then your lucky stone is Ruby. Ruby is a very powerful and highly effective precious gemstone that is being used by the people from different walks of life.

As the Ruby belongs to planet Sun, it is especially beneficial for the political leader, administrator, corporate heads, business tycoons, managers and organizers.

You should wear ruby at least 4 to 5 carats in weight. The ring should be set with gold. You can use the ruby stone either in ring finger or as a pendant.

Pearl gemstone according to birth date (person born on 2nd, 11th, 20th and 29th of any month of the year)

If you are born on 2nd, 11th, 20th and 29th of any month of the year, then wearing white pearl can be highly beneficial to you. The pearl is a highly effective precious stone for the person who is involved with creative, imaginative and innovative activities.

The precious pearl is especially recommend to the people who are into the field of artistic activities, oil industry, dairy industry and shipping etc.

The use of pearl can be highly beneficial for those who have been suffering from depression, memory loss, insomnia and fearfulness. The pearl is a gemstone that can certainly reduce your anger to a great extent.

Yellow Sapphire gemstone according to birth date (Person born on 3rd, 12th, 21st and 30th of any month of the year)

If you are born with number 3 and have taken birth on 3rd, 12th, 21st and 30th of any month of the year, then you should wear Yellow Sapphire with gold in the index finger on Thursday of bright fortnight.

The Yellow Sapphire is a precious gemstone that belongs to the planet Jupiter. The Yellow Sapphire is a highly effective gemstone for the people who are into educational, financial, banking, revenue and spiritual segment.

The weight of the Yellow Sapphire should be at least 5 carats. You can either wear in the index finger or in the neck as a pendant.

Gomed or Hessonite gemstone according to birth date (person born on 4th, 13th, 22nd and 31st of any month of the year)

If you belong to number 4 and you have taken birth on 4th, 13th, 22nd and 31stof any month of the year, then Gomed or Hessonite is the most suitable gemstone for you.

You should wear Gomed either in the middle finger or little finger on Wednesday. If you are not comfortable to wear Gomed or Hessonite in the finger, then you can wear it in the neck as pendant.

Wearing Gomed can be highly beneficial to you in your career, profession and finance. You can expect robust health and patience by wearing the Hessonite. It will help you to develop will power, self-confidence and complete your task in time and hence success.

Emerald gemstone according to birth date (person born on 5th, 14th and 23rd of any month of the year)

If you are a person belong to number 5 or born on one of these dates i.e. 5th, 14th, 23rdof any month of the year, then wearing emerald can be highly beneficial to you. The Emerald can enhance your intelligence and knowledge to a great extent.

The Emerald is highly effective for the people who are in to international business, commerce, research and science.

You should wear Emerald either in the little finger or as a pendant on Wednesday. The weight of the Emerald should be at least 5 carats. You can wear the Emerald set with either gold or silver.

Diamond according to birth date (person born on 6th, 15th and 24th of any month of the year)

The gemstone diamond is one the most expensive gemstone of the world. You can wear diamond if you have taken birth on 6th, 15th and 24th of any month of the year.

The Diamond is highly effective for the person who is into the field of fashion, jewellery, acting, designing and decoration etc. It is highly effective for the native who is into creative field.

The weight of the diamond should be around 1 Carat. You can wear it either in the gold or white gold in the middle finger on Friday of bright fortnight. Wearing diamond can enhance the love between the husband and wife.

Cat’s eye gemstone according to birth date (person born on 7th, 16th and 25th of any month of the year)

The number 7 is one the most important numbers in the numerology as there are 7 colours in the sun rays, 7 days in week, 7 wonders of the world, 7 stars in the northern sky, 7 continent, 7 voices and 7 holes in our head i.e. eyes, nostrils, ears and mouth.

Hence, the number 7 is a mystic number in the science of numbers. It is a spiritual number that belongs to Jesus, Oscar Wild and Atal Bihari Vajpayee etc.

If you are born on 7th, 16th and 25th of any month of the year, then your lucky gemstone is Cat’s eye. Wearing Cat’s eye can bring prodigious achievement in life. It is especially beneficial to the people who are into spirituality, public speaking, writing and research. The weight of the Cat’s eye should be at least 3 carats. You can wear it on Thursday in little finger. The suitable metal is either silver or Ashta Dhatu (A combination of 8 metals)

Blue Sapphire gemstone according to birth date (person born on 8th, 17th and 26th of any month of the year)

If you are born on 8th, 17th and 26th of any month of the year, then you belong to number 8. Your lucky gemstone is Blue Sapphire or Neelam.

The Blue Sapphire is a very powerful gem that can take you to the next level of success. Wearing Sapphire can help you to get rid of chronic diseases such as rheumatism, paralysis, insanity and loss of energy etc.

The Blue Sapphire is especially effective for the people who are into mining, railways, transports, sales and purchase and oil field etc.

You should wear Blue Sapphire on Saturday in the middle finger. The weight of the Blue Sapphire should be at least 3 carats. It should be set with silver or Ashta Dhatu.

Red Coral for the person born on 9th, 18th and27th of any month of the year

The Red Coral is the most beneficial stone for you if you have taken birth on 9th, 18th and 27th of any month of the year. The number 9 belongs to Mars. Hence, the gemstone Red Coral has been assigned to the planet Mars.

Wearing Red Coral can be highly beneficial if you are into the field of defence, military and police department.

The Red Coral should be at least 7 carats in weight. It will bring more beneficial result if the Red Coral is set with gold. You should wear this gem in ringer finger on Tuesday.

You should wear the gems according to the birth chart prepared by the help of Vedic astrology. In case you don’t have time of birth or the birth time is not correct, then wearing gemstone according to birth date or numerology can be helpful.

Learn more about it and get your personalized numerology report for free.