#if one of us arrives at the other's house and it's daylight hours (so the drapes are open) we instead stand there and stare creepily

[fingertipsmp3]

Why would my friend message me asking if I want to go for a walk and then when I answer immediately in the affirmative, drop off the face of the earth

[gardenwalrus]

Pattie Boyd on herself, George, John and Cynthia being spiked with LSD-laced coffee by their dentist, John Riley

Our dentist, John Riley, had turned us on to acid. He and his girlfriend invited John, Cynthia, George, and me to dinner at his house in Hyde Park Square one evening sometime in 1965. [...] We had a lovely meal, plenty to drink, and at the end George said, “Let’s go.” We were planning to see some friends playing at the Pickwick Club. John Riley’s girlfriend jumped to her feet. “You can’t,” she said. “You haven’t had any coffee yet. It’s ready, I’ve made it - and it’s delicious.” We sat down again and drank the coffee she was insistent we should have. But then we were really keen to get away and John Lennon said, “We must go now. These friends of ours are going to be on soon. It’s their first night, we’ve got to go and see them.” And John Riley said, “You can’t leave.” “What are you talking about?” said John Lennon. “You’ve just had LSD.” “No, we haven’t.” “Yes, you have,” said our host. “It was in the coffee.” John Lennon was absolutely furious. “How dare you fucking do this to us?” he said.

George and I said, “Do what?” We didn’t know what LSD was. John Lennon was the only one of us who knew because he had read about it in Playboy. He said, “It’s a drug,” and as it began to take effect we felt even more strongly that we didn’t want to be there. I wondered if the dentist, who hadn’t had any coffee, had given it to us hoping the evening might end in an orgy. We were desperate to escape. John Riley said he would drive us and we should leave our car with him. “No,” we said. We piled into my Mini, which seemed to be shrinking, and drove to the club where our friends were playing. All the way the car felt smaller and smaller, and by the time we arrived we were completely out of it. People kept recognising George and coming up to him. They were moving in and out of focus, then looked like animals. We clung to each other, feeling surreal. Soon we moved on to the Ad Lib Club - we knew it and thought we might feel better if we were in familiar surroundings. It wasn’t far from the Pickwick so we walked and on the way I remember trying to break a shop window. The Ad Lib was on the top floor, above the Prince Charles Theatre in Leicester Place, and we thought the lift was on fire because there was a little red light inside. As the doors opened, we crawled out and bumped into Mick Jagger, Marianne Faithfull, and Ringo. John told them we’d been spiked. The effect of the drug was getting stronger and stronger, and we were all in hysterics and crazy. When we sat down, the table elongated. Hours later we decided to go home. We climbed into the car again and this time George drove - at no more than ten miles an hour, concentrating hard, all the way to Esher. But it felt as though he was doing a thousand miles an hour [...] it was daylight by the time we got home. We went into Kinfauns and locked the gate so that the cleaner wouldn’t come in and find us, put the cat into a room on her own, and sat down. The drug took about eight hours to wear off, but it was very frightening and we never spoke to the dentist again.

- From Pattie Boyd's autobiography Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me (2007)

[daycourtofficial]

Loving parents, harmless fun

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 950 | warnings: none

Summary: slice of life gingerfucker where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and is for AU day for @erisweekofficial ❤️

“That’s my cow.”

Atlas’s voice rang through the car, a high pitch of excitement to his words as his finger pointed out the window, Leif’s eyes tracking the movement. Eris paid no attention to either of his sons, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Those are my chickens.”

It was a four hour drive to his in-laws house, to see his wife’s brother and his family. He counted down from ten in his head, trying to remind himself that holidays are supposed to be fun. The car was silent as he leaned his head back, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. The soft sounds of Bon Iver came from the speakers, an album that reminds him of cold, dark drives he took in the winters of his youth. It was a rare occasion - no one was begging for him to play Alvin and the Chipmunks or songs about ducks.

There was enough daylight for them to arrive at their destination before sunset, which gave him hope that maybe Atlas wouldn’t stay up too late tonight. Leif had a strict internal clock - he did most things at the exact same time each day. But his oldest, Atlas, was a mystery, his body having no internal clock for him to follow, leaving Eris clueless as to when he would fall asleep or wake up.

Eris maneuvered their vehicle through the curves of the road, taking in how beautiful the pastures around him were. It was the end of autumn when the vibrance of the leaves are going, occasional glimpses of the red and orange hues that he loved seeing so much. Atlas’s excited yell disrupted the too short peace. “That’s my cow!”

“If I have to hear him decide farm animals are his one more time,” Eris trailed off, his annoyance bubbling, his voice low so only you could hear.

“It was your brother who taught him the game.”

Eris didn’t turn to see the smirk on your face, he could tell by your voice that you were amused by Lucien’s never-ending knowledge of what buttons to push to annoy Eris.

It was a simple game - you see a cow, you claim it. It was cute when they were in the city - Atlas would see cows in billboards and claim them. Out in the country where the cows outnumbered the people - less fun.

“I don’t think he should be allowed near children ever again.”

“Oh yeah? Because he’s like every other uncle the kids have and likes to pay attention to them before teaching them annoying games?”

“My thoughts exactly. He’s also annoying so it means I’d see him less.”

“My cows.”

Atlas broke up your conversation, The quip Eris was sure you had ready dying on the tip of your tongue as his anger flared.

“Where are we - cow country?”

“Yes. You insisted we take back roads so the kids would have more sights. And to delay us getting to Rhysand’s.”

Eris should be surprised you saw through his reasoning for adding forty-five minutes to the drive, but he should know better than to think his wife doesn’t see to the root of all of his actions. The main reason you all were driving instead of flying to Rhysand’s home was simple - he wanted an easy escape. If you were flying, flights are planned and you have to wait for the plane. But if you have your car, you can just leave whenever Eris grows frustrated at his annoying in-laws. Or he can make an excuse for a reason to leave.

“My cows.” Leif’s first cows. You cooed, a soft “good job, Leif” whispered to him. Eris could see the tips of his hair from the rearview mirror, but he knew Leif was glowing in the praise from you.

“Why are we visiting again?”

“Because Feyre had their new baby.”

“Oh, that.” He practically deflated in his seat at how good the reason was for going, hoping that somehow the reason had changed and you could all turn around.

“Eris don’t act like you don’t love Nyx.”

He felt the eyeroll before it happened, slowly coming up on a red light. His wife was right - Nyx was an adorable kid who was very good, despite being half Rhysand and spending a good portion of his time with his uncle Cassian.

“My bird.”

Eris sighed through his nose. The car moved past a cemetery and Eris pointed out the window, “look, all of your cows are dead.”

Gasps were heard from all around him as if he just announced something outlandish. You slapped his arm, causing him to wince. “Eris,” his name was a hiss from your mouth, your eyes focused on him and not looking back at your sons. “They’re sensitive about that.”

Your words were mumbled, the sound having to work past your closed jaw to make it to Eris so the boys wouldn’t hear you.

“They’re fine,” he mouthed back to you, trying his best not to coddle them. It was a tricky line - one he needed frequent help navigating. Having a shitty father isn’t really the best role model for a man. A deep insecurity of his - was he being a regular dad or was he being too harsh? His train of thought was interrupted by Atlas’s hands hitting the car window, desperate for everyone’s attention.

“A hospital! My cows are alive again!”

Eris rolled the car to a stop at the red light, his forehead hitting the steering wheel.

“I thought I had won.”

A hand reached out to rub his back for a moment before he lifted his head, waiting for the light to change to green. The car moved forward, a family undeterred.

“My cow.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

[skythighs]

Goddess of Caladan: Home

Has anyone else been craving an unhinged codependent relationship? No? Just me, got it. Be prepared for Paul to slowly descend into madness all while his twin enables his behavior like there's no tomorrow. I'll be linking all pictures on my masterlist.

Warnings: CW Inc*st, sexual content 18+ please.

Word count: 3.3k

Part 1

My earliest memories are of my brother. I'll never forget the sound of his pitter patter feet running across the solid stone floors of our shared chambers. After our nanny thought we were asleep and tucked in for the night she would leave us for her own bed. Within seconds of the solid door latching closed he would make his way to me. We would lie chest to chest, nose to nose breathing each other's air until we fell asleep. For years when we were discovered in a tangle of limbs in the morning it was harmless and sweet. It was ‘just what twins do’. 

There was no harm in it, until there was. By age ten our mother Lady Jessica calmly spoke to us of the closeness between us. She was understanding of the bond we share but now we must separate for propriety's sake. It was not proper for us to share a bed anymore. We had already been put in separate chambers by now. Paul was male, and I was female. He could no longer cuddle with me, his sister throughout the night without certain whispers being spread by servants. 

We were ten when we agreed to never be caught in each other's bed again. Paul trained himself to rise before the sun, before the servants started their day, before they could spy on us and gossip. Or worse, report back to mother. As long as we weren't seen in each other's bed it meant we were no longer sharing a bed at all. It meant we were no longer ‘too close’.

In all actuality we were too close. Paul's heart beat to the same rhythm as my own. My very thoughts would pass his lips the instant it crossed my mind, despite our best efforts we were one. In our childhood our feelings were as innocent as we were. Pure of heart and intentions. However as our bodies changed so did our interactions. There was an odd tension between us by age fourteen. I experienced the first bitter taste of womanhood and Paul grew two feet overnight. 

He was the one that shook me awake informing me of the bloodied sheets beneath us. He didn't know where I was bleeding from just that I was and it frightened him. I reassured him it was normal, it meant that I was no longer a child. Somehow the odd feelings between us grew after that day and I felt the rhythm in his chest speed up whenever he stared at me for too long. 

“Claudia, you are blossoming beautifully into your features. Gone is the awkward little girl, all elbows and knees. In her place stands a young lady with a lovely figure and a lovelier face.” 

My mother praised me for my transformation while Paul became distant. He himself was no longer a lanky boy, he filled out with a bit of muscle from all the training over the years. Whenever I could spare the time I would watch him spar with Duncan, or Gurney. My mother trained me in the ways of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood extensively. Paul was also being instructed by her but being born male put him at a disadvantage. I tried helping him correct his pitch when he tried to use the voice but nothing I could do ever helped.  

No matter how distant he was during the daylight hours he still slept beside me at night. We were still a tangle of limbs chest to chest, nose to nose. His dreams were my dreams and I saw the girl on the desert planet as clear as he did. Her blue eyes were altered by the spice of Arrakis making her honey brown skin all the more beautiful. 

The news of the Emperor bestowing Arrakis to House Atreides was no shock to Paul or me. The Reverend mother Gaius Helen Mohiam arrived after that. She tested us separately and was pleased to know we weren't animals as she feared. Paul was the Atreides heir after all and him being an animal simply wouldn't do. He was also his mothers son, too much power was within him. Male children didn’t usually get trained in The Way. Me however I had no real role besides being married off to some other great house when the time came. At sixteen some thought I was old enough to be wed but not my father. 

Duke Leto refused to make me a child bride no matter how much the Imperium pushed for it. He defied the order that came to promise me to House Harkonnen. In fact he never spoke of it with anyone, but me. He promised he would never let them have me. His argument for my mother was about my age. He couldn’t tell her to her face that he would not help fulfill the Bene Gesserit order.

“Claudia is only sixteen years old. I will not force her into a marriage so young Jessica, you cannot change my mind.” 

Jessica knew when she had been bested and she knew better than to push him on this. She also knew when she was being deceived. Claudia was his angel for whom he would carve out a piece of the very sky if she asked it of him. He had no intention of marrying her off now or ever. 

It was a bit humid due to the rain, making sleep difficult to come by tonight. Paul was facing away from me shirtless and I found myself stroking his hair absentmindedly, occasionally dipping down his spine languidly. 

“I told Duncan about my dream. About seeing his death on Arrakis. He didn’t take me seriously.”

Hmm, I hum in response. I saw the dream with my own eyes. I felt his want, his guttural need to save Duncan. I felt it so strongly I wept in the morning. I continue stroking him as he turns to face me. He looks down at my cream colored nightgown which was left unbuttoned at the top. I knew what he was going to do before he acted upon it. His soft lips brushed against mine gently. He was waiting to see my reaction. Would I push him away? He couldn’t handle another rejection today after his talk with father about joining Duncan on Arrakis. 

I kiss him back slowly, the way he needs me to. I feel his warm tongue run against my lips hesitantly as I open for him. He deepens the kiss sinking down on top of me. He fit so perfectly against me. We were molded in each other's image afterall. The familiar quick rhythm returned to his chest, but this time my own heart matched its pace. Words weren’t needed between us. They haven’t been for a long time, we understood each other better than anyone else. 

The tension that had been brewing between us had finally reached its peak. We were experiencing a metamorphosis here and now on a dark rainy night. One of the last nights on our home planet before we moved across the galaxy to make Arrakis our new residence. 

“I need you Claud, let me have you. Please let me have you. Always.”

Brown eyes meet green, brown like the supple fertile soil that sustains the living trees that flourish on Caladan’s surface. Brown in a much different way than the rolling dunes of Arrakis. Where Arrakis was barren and life was a struggle. Her brown was a brown entirely familiar to him. Her amber eyes had been his constant companion since life sparked in the womb. They were brown even then in his consciousness; she was meant for him even then. 

‘I’ve always been yours’

I don’t speak it, because I don’t have to. He knows my answer, he’s always known. I spread my legs for him, welcoming him home for the first time, but not the last. He lifts my gown over my head tossing it aside. My chest is on the small side but he doesn’t care. He worships my breasts slowly, not missing an inch of skin. His tongue is slow and exploratory before his teeth become demanding. Nips and bites make me cry out softly unable to swallow them all down. He moves down to the apex between my thighs. 

He sucks me urgently, familiarizing himself with the blooming petals. He finds my slit wet and wanting. I can’t tell where his mouth ends and my body begins as he delves inside. His fingers are involved and I know they are working equally as hard as his mouth. I couldn’t decipher anything past the absolute pleasure and joy bursting within me. A pleasure that was quickly spilling over like sticky wine in a fine goblet. A sweetness that nearly soured on the tongue, an acquired taste that only he would ever enjoy.

 My core snaps harshly, something that had never been, now was. My eyes roll to the back of my head and a limpness passes over me. He laps up my nectar slowly savoring this moment. The first of many moments such as this. I feel Paul watching me as he settles his hips against me again. 

“Claud, are you with me?” He calls so softly, almost as if he’s afraid of waking me.

My eyes snap open and I feel my limp limbs gain strength again.

“I’m here, I’m with you.” I nod looking at him. I pull his forehead to mine and wrap my thighs around him snugly. His bare chest is pressed against mine and I help him push his slacks down. Hands fumbling together, shaking with anticipation as the last barrier between us is gone. 

‘Your home, with me. No matter where life takes us. This is where you belong.’

He enters me slowly, his forehead is still resting against mine. As I exhale he's breathing me in until his lungs burn. I look into his eyes and I see his pupils blown wide, his body responding to mine like a drug. When he bottoms out he drops his head to my neck, pecking at me trying to calm his hummingbird heartbeat before he goes further. My insides are so slick all I felt was a mild discomfort as he broke through my barrier. His breath quivers and I feel his tears run down my neck collecting in the dip of my clavicle. 

“Shh, my love don't weep.” I stroke his hair slowly to soothe away his tears.

I circle my hips from below him, testing the foreign feeling within me. Pleasure blooms between us and he begins thrusting slowly into me. Savoring this new level of intimacy between us he takes his time. Our lips lock in an unbreakable kiss. Inhale. Exhale. We breathe each other in, with each stroke the cup overflows. Our sounds of pleasure are swallowed into the kiss. Only soft whimpers and sighs could be heard between us. His thrusts increase and we finally pull apart. My head is thrown back in ecstasy as he licks up the puddle of tears he left behind. 

Skin slapping skin is such an odd sound. A very distinct sound that couldn’t be replicated easily, but we are too far gone to care. His movements grow sloppy as I meet him thrust for thrust, always pulling him closer as he pulls away. His peak was nearing now I could feel the ripples under the surface of his skin. I could feel the odd tingling down below. The tightening of his sack. I felt his ecstasy as well as my own. It was a feeling that could easily overwhelm, but we shared it equally.

“I’m going to cum Claud. Tell me where.” His breathless voice rings out in the darkness. 

“Inside Paul, always inside.”

My words push him over the edge of a cliff and where he goes I follow. We tumble one after the other off the highest peak on Caladan. We could be falling to our deaths, or the pits of hell, but we do it together. Always together. Always as one single entity. One single life split in two.

We said goodbye to Caladan by enjoying the beaches closest to the castle for the last time. Paul was in a melancholic mood, matching his black coat and travel garb. The ship had been raised from the sea and everything we owned was boxed in preparation for the journey. The Atreides castle was now bleak and eerily silent. I left Paul to himself while I explored our empty home. The corridors seemed ominous now, so dark and dank and lonely. Arrakis could be a welcomed change. It was always sunny and bright, it never rained there. Rain for weeks on end always dampened my mood, no pun intended. 

Deep down my brother was looking forward to seeing Arrakis. It meant he was one step closer to facing the girl from his dreams. He tried to hide that feeling away, but he couldn’t keep things from me. No matter how hard he tried, I already knew. I appreciated him trying to spare me the pain, but what we shared was beyond petty feelings of jealousy. At least that was true for me. Men were different. 

I was looking forward to meeting her in the flesh whenever that may be. I would accept her if he chooses her, but would she accept me? Would she understand that Paul and I would always be together no matter who else entered our lives? I would always be his Caladan.

“When did you sneak off?”

Paul's voice startles me out of my thoughts. He wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side.

“You seemed preoccupied. I didn’t want to bother you.” I look up at him as I speak tucked beneath his shoulder.

“You could never be a bother to me, Claudia.” 

He leans down and captures my lips in a sweet kiss. His kiss was the one bit of brightness in the dark damp hallway. We hadn’t been together in an intimate way since that night we shared together. Even still things were different. His eyes called out to me from across any room. His lips beckoned me forward across the dinner table as we dined with our parents. He looked at me with such love and devotion it was impossible to miss.

A stranger would think of me, his great love. They would never take me for his sister, but we had always been close. It could be overlooked for now but eventually mother and father would realize, this was no longer the bond of twins. The echo of footsteps reaches us so we break the kiss but he keeps me tucked into his side as our mother rounds the corner.

“There you two are. We’re ready to board.”

She smiles at us briefly before her smile falls quickly. She looks us over slowly, taking stock, attempting to find what it is that’s different.

“Shall we go mother?” Asks Paul. He feels the probing eyes the same as me. 

She nods her head and turns away from us, leading the way for the last time in the halls we chased each other in as children. The halls we took our first steps in. This was the castle where we shared our first kiss. Our first everything, happened here. The castle where we were born together. Where our childhood was laid to rest a week ago in the night, in each other's arms.

We had been traveling for two weeks already on the guild heighliner with two more weeks left ahead of us. On the up side there was plenty of time for rest and relaxation. Being cooped in my designated room for the duration of travel was not fun so I ventured out often. I chatted with servants and soldiers alike, making the time pass as best I could. Paul and I spent uninterrupted hours together. As close as we were before, it grew tenfold. He spent hours inside of me in these weeks. Hours beneath me, on top of me, beside me.

 I was currently stretched out across his bed. His quarters were larger than mine which allowed for a bigger bed. I certainly took advantage of it. He was sitting at a small table reading about Arrakis no doubt and I was in my nightgown braiding my hair away from my face. My thick dark hair piled into a thick rope of a braid with only a few stray pieces around my face caught his attention. 

He abandons his book on the table and makes his way towards the bed slowly. He strokes my braid gently, wrapping it around his hand. A quick rap on the door breaks the spell. 

“Yes?” Says Paul, annoyed at the interruption. 

“Have you seen Claudia? She's not in her room.”

She was using that tone mothers used when they already knew the answer to the question. Paul removes his hand from my hair reluctantly.

“I'm here.” I replied to her. Paul rolls his eyes at me not liking that I gave away my position. 

She cracks the door open slowly, timidly even. As if she's afraid of what she might see from the threshold. 

“It's late, Claud. You should be in your own bed.”

Ah, there it is. The thing that had been brewing for a fortnight now. Her suspicion had taken root now. She could feel that something was strange between us, she was our mother after all.

“Paul doesn't mind my company mother. He's been reading-”

“Claudia, it's late. If you want to escape travel fatigue you should be in bed by now.” She blatantly cuts me off. She was dismissing me from his room. There was little room for argument. 

I stand up and grab my robe, securing it. I see Paul shaking his head at her frustration clear on his face but I don't comment on it. I bid them goodnight and walked past her in the doorway. The walk to my room is short. Once I arrive I discard my robe on a chair and climb into bed. I fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. 

The opening of my door barely registers past the thick cloud of sleep. It's his lips that get my attention. He kisses my shoulder lightly as he climbs in behind me. Sleep claims me again now that he was here with me. Our bodies fall into the perfect rhythm that only happens when we're together. Inhale. Exhale. If I'm the sky he's what clouds are made of. 

In the last weeks of our journey my mother's probing eyes followed me closely. Just me. For she always struggles to find fault in Paul; her loves heir was perfect in her eyes. He was the boy our father asked for. He was Lady Jessica's success story. I was just a daughter. Any daughter would do but Paul was special to her, we all knew it. 

My father compensated for her love of Paul by adoring me twice as much. He was the balancing force at the center of our family. He was seated across from me, a chess board between us as he contemplated his next move. 

“I'm afraid you've finally surpassed me Claud. There's nothing I can do to stop you from winning.”

I look closer at the board. I hadn't even noticed.

“Ah, there. You're right this match goes to me.”

“Shall we play another round?” Asks my father cheerfully.

The door to the office opens and Paul walks in, eyes locking on mine. I had been avoiding him during the day afraid of the ever present mother hen.

“Perhaps Paul should take my place, I'll go have a nap.” 

I stand and kiss my father's cheek. Avoiding Paul's eyes as I leave without another word. When I step over the threshold I hear father ask if we've been arguing. 

“We never fight.” Paul replies easily. 

[sucka4pain]

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐄~♡︎

plug fwb! Rintaro Suna x Fem! reader

tw: smoking, marijuana usage, sexual tension, cowgirl, marking, high sex, cursing, Suna feels nothing for reader, praising, aftercare, mentions of readers family problems & attachment issues, cheating, and slightly dark.

readers skin tone and body type is not mentioned! this is a fic for all the girlies no matter how you look! also i’m using Suna’s timeskip so no sexualizing minors!

a/n: it’s late at night and i wanted to post smth since i haven’t posted in so long. i decided to bring back Haikyuu since i missed it sm, enjoy lovelies!🎀

It was one of the nights again, walking in the chilly weather as Y/n made it to a familiar house and went to a specific window. The curtains of the window were black but you can see purple light shining through from the little crack.

The latter that was in the bushes underneath the window was a good idea to have. She picked up the latter, placing it under the window and climbed up to the window. Her knuckles softly knocked three times to signal that its her.

She pulled away and opened the window was Suna. He was in a tank top with some basketball shorts, the strong aroma of weed hit Y/n’s nostrils making her hum. His red fox eyes looked down at her as the blunt that hung out from his mouth was placed perfectly between his teeth.

His veiny hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room. The purple led lights looked brighter yet dark, his Tv played a random playlist he has dedicated for moments like these. At the moment she arrived, Church by Chase Atlantic started to play.

Y/n took the blunt from Suna’s mouth and placed it in her own, taking a seat on his bed as she took a long drag from it. Suna sat down next to her manspreading, she took this opportunity and blew the smoke into his lips as their eyes locked in on each other.

There was always tension between the two, no matter what it’s like they were addicted to each other. Suna started to pick up on Y/n’s small habits whenever they smoked together. Whenever she had family problems going on or her parents fighting, her hits on the blunt were longer and she would hold it in for a while before exhaling it out in a big puff.

“Let me guess.” Suna spoke up, the rasp of his voice could send chills down anyone’s spine. Y/n glanced over at him as she passed him back his blunt and leaned back against the soft surface of his bed.

“They’re fighting again?” He asked looking down at her as he took a hit from his blunt, she nodded at his question. He grew up with Y/n, so he practically knew about her and her family probably more than Y/n herself. All of the time, she leaves at night to go over Suna’s house because they never seem to care what she does during the dark hours.

The led lights fade from purple to a blue as more songs from the playlist on his Tv began playing. They spent the next few minutes in silence, passing around the blunt to each other as music played that fit the atmosphere perfectly.

“So, how’s it going with you and Rika?” Y/n asked as she exhaled smoke and put out the finished blunt. Their eyes getting redder by the second from the string weed. Suna was basically her plug, always hooking her up with good stuff whenever she wanted.

He scoffed and ran his ringed covered fingers through his hair. “Don’t bring that skank up right now, I already gotta deal with her in the daylight.” The tone in his voice was full of despair.

A small laugh left her lips, her vision getting slightly watery from the weed. “But, don’t you think it’s wrong that me and you fuck even though you are in a relationship?” She asked, she wasn’t dumb she knew it’s wrong but seeing how Suna is with Rika makes her question if he really does love his girlfriend. Maybe it’s just an act to entertain the outside world from how they really are.

“She thinks i’m stupid to not know, and no it’s not wrong because she’s doing the same thing.” He scoffed.

This made Y/n raise a brow. “Seriously?”

Suna nods his head and shifts his body into a laying position with his hands behind his head as his shoulders laid back against the headboard.

“Her dad is paying me to be with her, and also because he wants to know what she does.” He shrugged off.

“Wow, you’re just some secret spy for her dad?” She chuckled.

“Basically, but they’re crazy rich so i’m willing to do anything for some bread.” His eyes locked onto hers as she laid down next to him and her head on his chest.

His hand found it’s way into her hair, being careful to not get any strands caught in his rings. She hums at the feeling of his fingers scratching and massaging her scalp and lifted up her head to look up at him.

Their eyes locked in yet again, they leaned into each other until their lips touched. Tasting the weed from each other and combined with Y/n’s chapstick made it more enjoyable. Suna’s hands sneak down to her waist. making her body move on its own. Seconds later, she was on top of him, legs straddling his hips as their tongues swirled around each other.

Panting and breathless when they pulled away as a string of saliva connected to their tongues.

“Be a good girl and ride me, yea?” He said not even trying to make it sound like he was asking.

Her stomach twists as she felt a wet spot already forming on her panties just by his words. She could already feel how hard he was underneath his shorts. her fingers pulled them down along with his black boxers which had a small white leaking stain of precum.

Once the boxers were off, his cock sprung up slapping against his tank top which he quickly pulled off. Before she could wrap her hand around his hard cock, his hand grabbed her wrist.

“Not fair that im the only one here without clothes on.” He smirked as his other hand swiftly pulled off her hoodie.

His brows slightly rose up. “No bra? You seem to have learned from our previous nights.” A cocky smile on his lips as he tugged at her pants, signaling her to pull them down.

She obeyed, pulling them off along with her panties. Just by looking at her cunt, he knew she was soaked. His hand wrapped around her throat and pulled her down to his level, deeply kissing her before pulling away and harshly sucking at her neck making her whimper.

The way he left dark marks on her and his fangs slightly grazing against her skin gets her excited. His mouth moved down to her collarbone and chest, leaving the same marks before looking up at her and placing his hands on her waist.

“Cmon baby, you know what to do. Don’t make me remind you.” His husky voice grumped out from his throat.

As much as she wanted to taunt him, with all the shit she had to deal with she just wanted to have him inside her. Which is why she can’t wait until night time comes.

Her hand wrapped around his hard cock, giving it a few strokes causing Suna to softly groan. Finally, she placed the leaking tip against her soaked lips, slowking sinking down on him making her whimper from how he was stretching her out. It didn’t matter how many times they have sex, he’ll always manage to make her feel like a virgin being stretched out for the first times.

She felt full as his cock was fully inside her, she didn’t waste time as her hips started to move. The way his cock kissed her cervix making her eyes roll back with moans spilling out of her mouth. Suna threw his head back at the way her walls clenched down on him.

“That’s it baby, jus’ like that. you know how to please me.~” He moaned as his hands slapped her ass and his hips slightly thrusting up, matching her pace.

“F-fuckk, Suna..you’re s’big~..” She moaned rolling her hips down as she felt a knot form in her stomach from how much he was twitching inside of her.

“You love this big dick, yea?” His voice tainted with awe as he wrapped his hand around her neck, choking her slightly making her eyes roll back.

“M’ gonna cum like this, keep going pretty girl.” He groaned as his other hand trailed down, two fingers rubbing her clit.

“C-cumming~! m’ gonna cum, Suna!~” She moaned as his thrusts became more rough. The feeling of his thrusts and fingers rubbing her clit brought her to cumming, her juices coating his dick and fingers.

“Good girl, good fucking girl..” He praised as his cock twitched on last time before filling her up with his warm seed. He leaned back breathing heavily and pulled Y/n down with him as the blanket kept them warm.

Suna broke the silence after a while. “Wanna smoke another blunt?” He asked but got no answer. He looked at her face and saw her peacefully asleep on him. His eyes rolled in annoyance and got up, gently carrying her to clean her up. Once they were both cleaned up, he put her in a fresh pair of clothes and covered her in his blanket.

He sat down on the floor, lighting up another blunt and continued to stare at her face.

‘When will i start falling for her? i don’t wanna fall for her, she’s got bad attachment issues.’

A mental thought popped up as he continued smoking his blunt.

©𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚4𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧-- 𝐃𝗼 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝗺 𝗼𝐫 𝐜𝗼𝐩𝐲 𝗺𝐲 𝐰𝗼𝐫𝐤-- 𝐜𝗼𝗺𝗺𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝗼𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐝!!

[neoameba]

Heya there! We need some good old angst, so can you write an Yan!Aizetsu x reader, but the reader instead likes another clone ((Sekido)) and not him? :D if not that's fine! Take as longbas ya need ^^

I love this idea :P

"But you belong to me."

Yandere! Aizetsu x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst! yandere behaviors, unspecified gender reader, self-degrading behaviors, possessive jealousy, manipulation, implied Sekido x reader, Aizetsu is just a cute kitten 😞

Summary: Aizetsu loves you so much... You treated his main body with kindness and are someone so good at heart, so pure, so fragile... He and his "brothers" have become very attached to you, even though you are a human. That clone treated you so well, and that's why when he found out you liked Sekido, he freaked out. He won't let you be with someone else. Never.

It was always the night the two of you met. And since it wouldn't be, the demon can't just come out in broad daylight. But that made it more special and the moonlight made it even romantic. The oni would climb the walls of your house and suddenly divide itself into four, each clone with its iconic personality.

And it was like that for a long time. Sometimes they arrived smelling of blood, but it didn't bother you. You lived in a place that was kind of far away from everything, so having their company was really nice. You spent hours talking to Urogi and Karaku, but especially Sekido and Aizetsu. They had such distinct personalities, it was funny.

But... You always noticed something strange about Aizetsu. Something that the other clones didn't have. He always leaned on you, physical contact was never enough and he hated it when you paid more attention to other clones. He cried, and sometimes even scratched you, when he wasn't saying bizarre things like "You do not like me? Don't I deserve your affection? Look at me..." He didn't even care if the other clones were judging him, although he didn't like the looks of disgust.

Despite that, you still liked him and he acted normally sometimes. But everything changed in just one night.

.....

The time for the routine visit had arrived, but unlike every other time, the clones were not at his door and neither was Hantengu at his window preparing to enter without permission. It was just... Aizetsu. He was already inside your house, without permission or prior notice. His blue eyes shone in the dark as always, but this time there was something more in that look.

You weren't even scared anymore, his presence was known to you. You just decide to let the boy/demon into your room like he and his clones normally did. He smiles slightly at you and silently sits on your bed, where he looks at you closing the door.

"Aizetsu... Where are the other clones?"

"Don't ask about them when it's just the two of us here. Do you want other people here? It hurts me..."

Again, he acts like anything you say about other people is a big deal. "Sorry, Zetsu."

His eyes light up when you call him by the nickname you gave him. Aizetsu's heart begins to leap with happiness, a very overwhelming feeling for someone who is only the embodiment of sadness. You sit down next to him, and he automatically moves closer to you, holding your hand.

"I just want to talk to you, [Name]..."

He says, looking down. Aizetsu didn't seem to have enough courage to look you in the eyes while he wanted to ask you something. He seems to have waited a long, long time for this.

"... Do You like me...?"

It catches you off guard, but you laugh softly. "Of course I like you, Zetsu. I like all the clones." But instead of being happy, he looks hurt, as if you had said something he didn't want to say. "You don't understand... Do you like me, [Name]?"

You stay silent, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. You were too naive to not realize that he liked you romantically, or was just focused on other things. You didn't want to hurt the oni, but you needed to be honest with him (and he would know if you were lying).

"... I'm very sorry."

He looks at you, as if surprised and scared. At the same time sad and enraged. "If not me, who then?" His grip on your hand tightens, and you could feel that at any moment, with just a little more force, he could break the bones in your hand.

"...Sekido."

"...Sekido...?!" He says, a low growl in his voice you could hear. He looked in shock, and his eyes were wide and starting to water. He remembers all the moments when your laughs were directed towards Sekido, when Sekido wasn't able to get angry with you even though he is the personification of anger, when the two of you seemed too close... A vein pops out of his head, and he pulls your hand towards him, making your torso almost fall into his lap. Your free hand holds onto the bed for support, as you widen your eyes at the situation. Your faces were almost glued together, and now you could see his eyes and expression more clearly.

“But you won't stay with him. You don't understand how much this hurts me, I thought you cared about me..."

His eyes started to fill with tears, and when you tried to say something, he covered your mouth with his hand. "You can't. You won't leave me." He says, pressing your face with the hand that covers your mouth. It was hurting you, his nails were almost penetrating your skin. Tears were streaming down his face and he looked devastated.

If it weren't for love, it would be for pain. You needed to be his, you were someone so good, so perfect for him... It hurt his heart that you didn't love him, so he would make you love him.

.....

And from that, he made a truth. He didn't join Hantengu and his clones again, he stayed in your house the whole time, clinging to you. And when you tried to tell him he couldn't do it, and that you wanted your privacy, he freaked out again. That sparkle in your eyes that you saw that fateful night comes back every time you dare to say something that makes him the slightest bit upset.

What about the other clones? Aizetsu told them that the two of you were dating, and consequently, Sekido didn't want to look you in the face anymore, anger took over him when he discovered that "you don't like him". Too bad, Aizetsu implied you were just being nice...

Karaku and Urogi visited you sometimes, but Aizetsu always kept you away from them, so they only stayed for a short time. You were his alone after all, why would you want other people in your house?

"You belong to Me." That's what he says quietly in your ear every night, wanting it to penetrate the deepest part of your brain. He would hug you gently, but the slightest mistake would create a crying, insane mess called Aizetsu.

Author's note (my notes :P)!

He is just a pookie wookie cutie pie.

I hope you enjoyed it and that it met your expectations!

[pejite]

Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a softer touch than usual. The heavy rains had finally abated, replaced by the more typical, gentle drizzle that seemed to hover persistently in the air. Edwin and Wilhelmina were seated together in the dining room, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun as it filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor.

Wilhelmina had slowly but steadily found her way back to the rhythm of daily life. Although the sadness remained, an unwelcome companion that lingered in the quiet moments, it no longer consumed her as it once had. She had taken small, cautious steps back into her routine, each day reclaiming a little more of the woman she had once been.

Edwin had watched her progress with a mixture of relief and lingering worry, aware that grief was not something that could simply be banished but had to be lived with, managed, day by day.

As for Edwin, his days were filled with the demands of the farm and the ever-present concern over their future. The loss of George weighed heavily on him, but the farm required his attention, and that need had allowed him to push the grief aside, at least during the daylight hours. The evenings, however, were harder. When the work was done, and the house quieted down, his thoughts inevitably returned to the son they had lost, and the ache in his heart would return.

This evening, their conversation turned, as it often did these days, to the state of the farm. Edwin’s brow was furrowed in concern as he spoke “The crops...they’re not going to recover, Wilhelmina. The rain was too much for them. We’re looking at a poor harvest, and that’s if we’re lucky. The newspaper said it’s not just here, there’s talk of pests spreading across the country, ruining what little the rain didn’t destroy.”

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I wish we had a greenhouse” he admitted, his voice carrying a note of wistful longing “It would give us a fighting chance, a way to protect the crops from the worst of the weather. But with how expensive it is to build one, it’s just a dream, really” He sighed again, the weight of their situation pressing down on him.

Wilhelmina watched him, a soft smile tugging at her lips, though it was tinged with sadness. She had grown used to the way his shoulders seemed to carry the burden of the world lately. “We’ve still got your wages from the Abernathys” she offered, trying to inject a note of hope into the conversation. It was a small thing, but it was something.

Edwin shook his head, his expression one of resignation. “Money’s no good if there’s no food to buy” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “We’ve been getting by with what we could salvage from the fields, but it’s not enough. And winter’s coming. What will we do then, Wilhelmina? If the other farms are struggling like we are, there’ll be shortages. Prices will go up, and even with the money, there might not be enough to go around.”

Wilhelmina rested her chin on her hand, her eyes distant as she considered his words. “We’ll do what we must, Edwin” she said quietly, trying to reassure him “If it comes to it, we’ll have to make sacrifices. Maybe we’ll need to let go of some of the livestock, or cut back even more on what we use. We’ve faced hard times before, and we got through them. We’ll find a way, somehow.”

Edwin looked at her, searching her face for the strength he knew was there, the strength he had relied on for so many years. “It’s just… I worry, Wilhelmina. About the children, about you. We’ve lost so much already. I don’t know if I can bear to lose anything more.”

For a while, they sat in silence, the weight of the coming winter hanging over them, but also the quiet resolve that they would face it together. The sunlight outside began to fade, giving way to the cool, dusky blue of early evening. Wilhelmina eventually rose to prepare supper, leaving Edwin alone with his thoughts. As he watched her move about the kitchen, the familiar sounds and smells of their home filling the space, he felt a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to hold onto, at least for now.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 11 | S.R

Not my gif

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - You and Spencer call a truce so you can enjoy your weekend at the cabin. But it’s short lived, and soon discussions of your future arise once again, causing Spencer to make a rash declaration.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - swearing, fingering, handjobs.

WC - 5k

Chapter 11 - No Tomorrow

The cure for the sorrow,

Is to live like there's no tomorrow (no tomorrow),

Blow it up, pull the pin from the inside.

The cure for the sorrow,

Is to live like there's no tomorrow (no tomorrow),

Nothing lasts, no one wins, but it's alright.

Two hours later Rossi’s handyman, Dirk, left the cabin down the front steps after successfully getting power back to the house. 

Before he’d arrived you took the opportunity to explore the cabin in the daylight. 

The living room was cosy and decked out with large antique couches, an old oak coffee table and giant wooden bookshelves. 

There was a table in the front window with two large leather armchairs either side and vintage chessboard on the table between. 

The large stone fireplace had a thick bearskin rug on the floor in front of it and a long since used shotgun mounted on a piece of bark hanging over it. 

Ornate light fittings hung from the wooden rafters and various paintings like the ones in Rossi’s mansions decorated the walls. 

The kitchen off to the side held much fewer appliances than Rossi’s home and had a very homely feel. 

There was a huge old burner stove that took up almost an entire wall, black granite countertops and a cute breakfast nook off to one side surrounded by leather stools. 

There was a study upstairs which held more bookshelves that rivalled Spencer’s collection and more grand leather armchairs next to a window overlooking the driveway. 

The bedroom was at the side of the house and was set with arched wooden ceilings. The bed faced the large floor to ceiling window which overlooked the forest and allowed a peak at Lake Anna in the distance. 

And the decadent bathroom and the jacuzzi tub with a view of the forest was utter perfection. 

The cabin was cosy and had a warmth to it. You were a little sad you’d be going home today before you had a chance to settle in. 

It was picturesque and incredibly romantic and under other circumstances you and Spencer could have been rolling between the sheets and going for long walks instead of barely speaking to each other. 

It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful place but it was best if you left. 

You went for a walk while Spencer stayed with Dirk and were yet to return. 

Spencer located his phone and called you but there was no answer. He tried again, still no answer. 

On the third try he heard a distant sound of a phone ringing. 

He passed up the stairs and saw your purse sitting at the end of the bed, the ringing coming from inside. 

“Fucking brilliant.” He hung up the phone. “She could be anywhere.” 

He tossed on his converse and left the cabin, locking it up behind him as he went in search of you. 

He stopped by his car and surveyed the thick woods around him. He looked left. Looked right. He sighed and rolled his eyes. 

You could have headed in any direction and there was no telling how far you’d gotten in the time you’d been walking. He could be searching for you for hours. 

He glanced back at the cabin over his shoulder and considered just staying put. Chances are you weren’t going to cross paths and you’d end up back at the cabin while Spencer was still out looking for you. 

But what if something had happened? What if you were in trouble and he hadn’t tried to find you? 

He looked at the trees on his left. Then at the trees on his right again. 

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. 

Right it is. 

He pushed forward to the right side of the house and stepped from the gravel driveway to the grassy forest floor. 

Lake Anna was in this direction, a short hike through the trees so with any luck he’d find you there. 

He started trudging his way through the overgrowth, swerving between trees and dipping beneath low branches. 

He kept his sounds to a minimum and listened out for any little noise coming from within the forest that might indicate you were nearby. 

He felt like he was stalking an unsub, a similar kind of nervous adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

The trees became denser the further into the forest he got and it was causing the temperature to rise. He felt sweat gathering at his temples and on his brow. 

“Y/N? Y/N?” He periodically called out your name and stood still while he waited for a response. 

All he was met with was rustling leaves and bird songs. 

The lake was getting closer, he could see the water more clearly glistening in the sunlight through the trees. 

He kept walking. He didn’t know how long to walk for before he turned back and waited for you at the cabin. For all he knew, you were already back there. 

But your phone was at the cabin so if you’d gone back and found it empty, you would have called, right? 

Wrong. He’d locked the door. You wouldn’t be able to get in. Brilliant. 

“Y/N? Come on, where are you?” He huffed, wiping his sweaty brow on his shirt sleeve. 

He should have had the forethought to bring water, his mouth was incredibly dry. 

He walked and he walked and was getting close to giving up. The ground was becoming harder to traverse, trees growing thicker and more and more debris littering his way. 

“Y/N? Goddamnit, Y/N!” 

He huffed, trying to keep his line of sight on the sliver of glowing water through the forest hoping to find you by the lake. If he didn’t, it was time to admit defeat and hope he could find his way back to the cabin. 

He was sweating profusely now, no air able to permeate the thicket of trees and the sun was heavily bearing down on him. 

Somewhat reluctantly he started undoing his shirt buttons as he walked and was soon peeling the damp fabric off of his body. It offered him some relief but he didn’t relish being shirtless in the woods where he could rub up against anything or have some bug easily bite him. 

But it was so hot. 

At the very least, if he made it to the lake he could splash some water on his fried skin, hell maybe he’d even go for a dip. 

He tried to focus on the idea of plunging into the cool water while he forced his aching legs forward. 

It was at least another five minutes of walking, but it felt like five hours, before he finally emerged from the trees onto the lakeside. 

He squinted against the sun which was reflecting off of the large body of water right back into his eyes and wished he’d had the forethought to bring his sunglasses. 

The lake was still and serene. Despite the heat suggesting otherwise it wasn’t quite summer yet and the tourists hadn’t descended upon the water yet. 

It also enabled him to spot you with ease, sitting on the dock a little way ahead of him with your back to him. 

Thank god. 

With what little energy he had left from his walk he dragged himself towards the dock, his shirt hanging limply from his hand. 

When he reached the dock, you heard footsteps on the wooden boards and turned to glance at your company over your shoulder. 

Spencer was panting by the time he reached you, dropping to the ground next to you. His hair clung to his sweaty forehead, more droplets rolled down his sun kissed chest and biceps. His pants were covered in dirt and he looked completely exhausted. 

“What happened to you?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What happened to me?” He scoffed. “I just took a hike through a forest looking for you because you left your cell phone at the cabin.” 

“I know I did.” You shrugged.

“You…you…” he was still trying to catch his breath. “You left it there on purpose?”

“I wanted to be alone.” You turned away from him, looking back at the still water beneath you. “Also there’s a road genius, with a footpath.”

“Footpath?” He groaned. “You’re kidding me?” 

“Hey, you’re supposed to be the smart one.” 

“Goddamnit this weekend has been a fucking disaster.” He swept his hair back from his brow. “Can we just go home, please?” 

“Gladly.” You pushed yourself to your feet and Spencer did the same. 

Only Spencer was much more uncoordinated in his movements. 

It was hard to say what happened as it all transpired so quickly. One minute he was getting to his feet and the next he stumbled, or tripped on something, you weren’t sure.

But the next thing you knew he was falling and then there was a loud splash as he toppled into the lake. His entire body went under, ripples from the impact lapping at the dock. 

You leaned over the edge and watched the frothy water where he’d landed for a second or two before he re-emerged, groaning and spitting lake water out of his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he growled, wiping the water from his eyes and pushing his hair back off of his face. “My cell phone!” 

He quickly scrambled to free the device from his pocket and the sodden fabric, pulling it free and wading towards the dock so he could toss the phone out of the water. 

He glanced up at you and you couldn’t help the smile that desperately tried to twitch at the corner of your mouth. 

“This isn’t funny.” He spat, slinging his soaked shirt which he’d been holding onto next to his phone.

“It’s kinda funny.” You let the smile spread. 

“Do you think you could help me out or are you too busy with your amusement?” He frowned at you, looking frustrated. 

“I’m an excellent multi-tasker.” You smirked, stepping forward to the edge of the dock and bending a little while reaching your hands out towards him. 

You should have seen through his juvenile plan. You were certainly smart enough to know what he was doing. But you fell for it hook, line and sinker. 

Spencer’s wet hands gripped your own but instead of pulling himself out of the water, one sharp tug of your hands caused you to wobble and soon you were being pulled head first into the lake. 

Like Spencer, your whole body was engulfed by water and when you resurfaced you were spluttering. 

“What the fuck?” You spat, rubbing your eyes. 

“Now that’s funny.” Spencer chuckled. 

“Asshole!” You splashed water at him, covering his face and hair once more. 

“Hey!” He grumbled, using the palm of his hand to send some right back at you. 

You retaliated quickly, sending an even larger wave towards him and he held his hands up as if that would somehow stop it from soaking him further. 

“What’s wrong, Doctor? You started this.” You grinned smugly at him while he simply stared at you. 

“Yeah, I did.” He nodded. “And I’m also gonna end it.” 

He was suddenly lunging at you, grabbing you around the waist and managing to drag your shoulders and head under the water. You fought against him, kicking your legs but he was stronger. 

He only plunged you for a second or two but he didn’t let go of you when your head was back above water and you were once again wiping the water from your eyes. 

“I repeat, asshole!” You shook your head. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t quite hear that?” He frowned but before you could reply he managed to dunk you again. 

You spluttered again once you emerged and glared at him, his arm still around your waist. 

“Ok, ok. Truce?” You whined a little.

“You think I’m gonna fall for that?” He chuckled. 

He raised one hand out of the water and swept your hair off of your face. He was smiling in that way that made you dizzy, and you were sure he knew it too. 

He kept his hand on your cheek once he’d moved your hair back and you naturally gravitated closer to him. 

Your wet jeans and blouse clung to your skin and you had the urge to take them off, or maybe let Spencer have the privilege. 

You waded even closer until you were pressed up against his body and it was quickly evident that he’d been having the same thoughts given the hardened bulge sheathed inside his pants. 

You raised your arms out of the water and wrapped them around his neck, fingers curling into his wet hair. He sucked in a breath and his gaze flitted down to your lips. 

“Truce you said?” His voice was hoarse. 

“Truce.” You agreed seconds before he was slamming his lips against yours. 

You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as his tongue quickly plunged into your mouth. 

You were both moaning already as you grinded against him and Spencer’s hand was hurriedly wandering between your bodies. 

He fumbled a little getting your soaked jeans undone, his other hand still in place on your cheek to hold you close. 

Once he’d managed to pop open the button his hand was sliding inside your pants, straight into your panties and soon his index finger was pressed against your clit. 

You whined into his mouth and removed one hand from his neck to return the favour. He started nimbly rubbing your sensitive spot while you fought with the button of his own pants. 

Given the sodden fabric hugging his body it wasn’t easy to free him but finally you wrapped your hand around his shaft and got him out of the confines of the wet material. 

You started to stroke him while his lips trailed to your neck, sucking on the wet flesh. His finger moved from your clit, further between your legs and two digits pushed inside of you. 

You moaned, your sounds rolling out in waves across the empty lake. Your head fell back and it allowed Spencer better access to your neck. He sucked bruising marks into your skin while his fingers moved in and out of you, brushing against your bundle of nerves with each deep thrust. 

Your grip tightened around his shaft as you moved your hand up and down it in firm, quick pumps. He growled against your neck at the sensation.

As your bodies moved it sent the water lapping at the dock, around your bodies, and out across the lake until the waves turned into small ripples and then eventually the ripples smoothed out the further away they got. 

Your legs tightened around his waist as he increased his speed, fingers rampantly fucking you, desperate to bring you to your release. 

In return your strokes of his cock became almost frantic and you could feel it pulsing in your hand. It barely took any time at all before he was mumbling against your neck, “I’m so close.” 

You replied in a moan of agreement as his fingers shifted positions a little and somehow allowed him to thrust deeper. 

He could feel you clenching around his digits as his stomach started to tighten. All at once the two of you reached your peaks, and came almost in perfect unison. 

He kept his fingers inside of you while you rode out your orgasm and your hand remained squeezed around the base of his shaft.

He panted heavily into your neck, placing chaste little kisses against your skin. When he raised his head you looked at each other through hooded eyes and parted lips curled up into smiles. 

He kissed you as he cautiously withdrew his fingers, making you whimper slightly as you reluctantly let go of his length. 

He wrapped his arms around you and you did the same, simply gazing at each other in the sunshine that bore down on you, relishing in this momentary solitude. 

You both knew it would inevitably have to come to an end so you tried to cling to this moment for as long as you could. 

You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder and he held your close, tightening his hold on you. It was hard to say how long you remained like this, time slipping away like the water droplets rolling down Spencer’s neck. 

Eventually you started to grow cold and reluctantly the two of you got out of the lake and headed back to the cabin. 

You agreed to stay, still trying to hold onto some small part of this relationship as long as you could.

You both showered and changed and Spencer drove you to the nearest convenience store for groceries. When you returned he cooked dinner and the two of you ate in relative silence. 

As the sun started to set, he lit a fire and the two of you curled up on the couch with the new bottle of scotch you’d purchased at the store. 

“I can’t keep doing this if we don’t have a future.” You found yourself blurting out but Spencer didn’t seem particularly surprised by your words.

“I didn’t say we don’t have a future, Y/N.” He sighed as he spoke. “We can have one. I want us to have one. But it just might look a little different than you had in mind.” 

You finished your drink and quickly poured out another two fingers into your glass. Spencer did the same.

“I want kids, Spence. I want to get married one day.” You choked out. 

“I can’t imagine having more kids.” He admitted sadly. “Daisy is almost fourteen as it is, Lily will be eight in a few months. If I had another kid now that would be a huge age gap, let alone sometime in the future. I’m not saying I don’t want more kids, but I can’t promise that I will either.” 

“I know we said we’d put a pin in this, but I can’t. If we want different things then-”

“Meet my kids.” He suddenly declared, cutting you off. 

Your eyes went wide and you almost dropped your glass in your lap. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I want you to meet my girls.” He swallowed. 

“Seriously?” You frowned at him.

“Yes, I absolutely adore you Y/N and I want you to be a part of my life in every way. And that includes my children.” He reached for you with his free hand and cupped your cheek. “Please?”

“O-ok.” You nodded although it still didn’t exactly solve the problem at hand. 

Meeting his children was a positive step towards the future but if he didn’t want any more, did you really have a future? 

It probably made you an idiot for dropping it so easily and allowing yourself to once again put your own dreams on the backburner because Spencer didn’t share them. 

If you insisted on doing this eventually you would find yourself in a future that had been dictated by someone else. But you loved Spencer, undoubtedly so, and you weren’t ready for this to be over. 

Maybe he’d change his mind somewhere along the line. Perhaps one day he’d wake up and share in your vision of the future. And if he didn’t, you’d have to deal with that hurt when it came. 

***

You spent the next twenty four hours in a blissful and slightly ignorant bubble in Rossi’s cabin. Most of that time was spent having sex, because if you were having sex you weren’t talking. And if you talked then your relationship would no doubt come crumbling down like a house of cards. 

On Sunday night Spencer drove you home and you barely said two words to each other. He dropped you off before heading to Maeve’s to collect Daisy and Lily. 

He parked out front and texted Maeve he was here like he did every two weeks, never wanting to see her unless it was absolutely mandatory. 

He sat and waited, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, lost in his thoughts. He didn’t notice someone heading towards his car and when there was a gentle knock at his window he jumped a little. 

His eyes shot up and Maeve was standing on the curb, a soft smile on her lips. Spencer exhaled deeply, his frustration evident on his face as he rolled down the window. 

“Hey,” she had her arms folded across her chest. 

“Where are the girls?” He frowned at her. 

“They’re just getting their stuff together, I wanted to talk to you quickly.” 

“About?” He sighed. 

“Well it’s Daisy’s birthday in a few weeks and we haven’t discussed what we were going to do. I know last year we did separate things for her but I thought it might be nice to do something for her together? A party maybe?” She was smiling at him, pleading with him because they both knew that wasn’t something he would be receptive to. 

He grinded his teeth together violently, digging his blunt nails into the fabric of his slacks. 

“That seems like a terrible idea.” He didn’t beat around the bush. “We’ve spent, at most, a half hour together in the same room in the last year. I really don’t relish the idea of us throwing her a party together.” 

“It was her idea.” Maeve shrugged. “I said I’d ask. I didn’t think you’d be willing to put your pettiness aside even for one day.” 

“So I say no and I’m the bad guy? Super.” He scoffed. 

“She’s not asking for the world, Spencer. She just wants one day with both of her parents.” Maeve’s smile faded, replaced with a frown similar to Spencer’s.

Goddamnit, he groaned internally. 

He could so easily say no to Maeve but not his daughters. And if Daisy wanted to spend her birthday with both of them, he couldn’t very well deny her that. 

He exhaled loudly again, raking his fingers through his hair. 

“Fine,” he huffed. “But we do it at my house.” 

“Actually, she’s been dropping hints about having a pool party. Apparently it’s the cool thing. And Rossi did have that pool installed last summer, right?” She smiled but it was a begging smile that Spencer knew all too well. 

It was the same one she’d used when she’d tried to talk him into having more kids.

“I can’t ask Rossi to host a bunch of teenagers.” Spencer shook his head. 

It was then he realised it wasn't a begging smile, it was a guilty one. 

“I kinda already asked him.” 

“You did what?” His eyes widened. 

“I knew you wouldn't, so I called him yesterday. He’s fine with it.” She shrugged.

“Goddamnit.” He groaned. “Rossi is my friend Maeve, not yours.” 

“He’s also grandpa Dave to your kids so he is more than happy to host Daisy’s party. She said that popular girl at school keeps talking about how cool pool parties are.” 

“Goddamnit.” He repeated, shaking his head. “I guess I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” 

“It would mean a lot to your daughter, Spencer.” 

“Fine, whatever.” He grumbled. “I will throw her the damn pool party.” 

“You’re not going to let me help?” She grunted. 

“If you help it will mean I have to talk to you, something I do not enjoy doing in case that wasn’t abundantly clear.” 

“Oh jeez, grow up Spencer.” She spat at him. “She’s our daughter. I want to help.” 

Spencer closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He just wanted this conversation to be over if he was perfectly honest. 

“You still bake, right?” He asked, his tone biting. 

“Yes.” 

“Bake her a cake. Buy some decorations. I’ll sort out the rest.” He saw the door opening behind her and his two girls came rushing outside towards them. 

He’d never been so happy to see them in his whole life. They barrelled towards the car and Maeve stepped aside.

Spencer unbuckled his seat belt and finally exited the vehicle, Daisy and Lily almost immediately falling into his arms. 

“Daddy!” Lily screeched as she nuzzled into his side.

“Hey dad.” Daisy hugged his other. 

“I missed you both so much.” He squeezed them tightly, placing a kiss on both of their heads. “Did you have a good weekend?” 

“Yes daddy!” Lily pulled back and turned back to the house where Bobby was holding out Taco’s leash. 

Lily ran back up the path towards her beloved scruffy dog. 

“What about you, pumpkin?” He asked Daisy who was unusually quiet. 

“It was ok.” She shrugged, heading past him to the back seat of the car. 

She got inside while Lily skipped back with the dog in tow and followed her sister into the car. 

“She’s been like this all weekend.” Maeve sighed. 

“Because she’s still mad at you. She’ll come around.” Spencer shrugged. “I, uh, I’ll see you later then.” 

“Sure. Can I call you about the party?” Maeve whispered so the girls wouldn’t hear through the open window.

I’d really rather if you didn’t, Spencer thought but instead he sighed and nodded.

“I guess.” He stepped backwards towards the car. 

“Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it.” 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s fine.” He opened the door and slid in the driver’s seat. 

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the girls were buckled in and once he was happy they were he started the engine and rolled up the window. 

Lily spent the journey home regaling him with stories of their weekend while Daisy remained silently staring out of the window. 

Maybe if he allowed Maeve to take the reins with this party it would go some way to help repair her and Daisy’s relationship. 

He just needed to put his own anger towards his ex-wife aside in order to do right by his daughter. 

***

The next two weeks went by in a blur of work and planning a birthday party for a fourteen year old. 

The semester was rolling around to an end soon and as such Spencer was swamped with marking papers and aiding his students with last minute prep for their finals. 

He’d had several phone conversations with Maeve while he’d tried to put their issues behind so they could plan Daisy’s party together. As soon as the party was over he would go back to only speaking to her if had to. 

He continued to have coffee with you at least once a day but things were still stifled between you. He sometimes wondered why the two of you were bothering at all when it was clear this was going to end badly. 

But neither of you could find the strength to walk away. 

It was Friday afternoon, almost two weeks since the trip to Rossi’s cabin and you sat together in the courtyard sipping coffee. 

Spencer glanced at you but you weren’t looking at him, you focused your gaze on your drink in your hand. He took a sip of his own, gulping it down louder than necessary just to get your attention.

It did in fact force you to look up at him as he was wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“So uh, it’s Daisy’s birthday tomorrow.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

He told himself he’d meant to invite you sooner, especially after your conversation at the cabin about meeting his kids. But every time he’d gone to broach the subject he talked himself out of it. 

“Oh, isn’t she with her mom this weekend?” 

“She is, apart from tomorrow afternoon when I will be hosting a pool party for an obscenely large group of teenagers at Rossi’s.” He continued gnawing on his lip. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come?”

“To a fourteen year olds birthday party?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“We talked about you meeting my girls.” 

“We did but you didn’t bring it up again so I assumed you changed your mind.”

“I haven’t.” He was quick to insist. “So I thought tomorrow would be a good chance, less pressure I suppose? Rather than it being just the four of us.” 

“Uh, ok. Sure I can come.” You nodded but he noticed the way you nervously sucked in a breath. 

“My old team will be there so it would be great for you to meet the rest of them.” 

“Ok.” You sipped your coffee. 

“The only slightly weird part is that my ex will also be there.” He pulled a face, dreading your reaction. 

As expected your mouth fell open and you stared at him unblinking while he seemingly shrunk in on himself. Your hold on your coffee cup tightened as did your stomach at the thought of meeting Spencer’s ex-wife.

“Oh.” You looked back down at your drink. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I know I painted her to be a bitch, I mean she was to me. But she’s…nice.” It pained him to say even the simplest of kind words about her and it showed. 

“Say that without grimacing and I might believe it.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I mean she wasn’t a good wife, but she is a nice person. And she knows I’m dating, and her boyfriend will be at the party. It’s not weird.” He shook his head, trying to convince himself as much as you.

“It’s weird.” 

“No, not weird. Perfectly normal.” His shaky smile didn’t seem to agree. 

“You really want me to come?” You pouted a little. 

“I really want you to come.” He nodded. 

“Fine, I’ll go to your daughter's birthday party.” You tried to ignore how your stomach tightened at that and instead forced yourself to smile. 

“Great, that’s great.” Spencer returned your false smile. 

Now that you meeting his kids was to become a reality, you both knew it was a bad idea. If the two of you didn’t have a future, why were you doing this? 

But Spencer couldn’t take it back now and you couldn’t change your mind. So no matter how complicated it was going to make things, it seemed tomorrow you would meet your boyfriend's daughters. 

Both of you had sinking feelings in your gut that this wasn’t going to end well. And you would soon come to find those gut feelings were right. 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @foxy-eva @kbakery @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose

[minniebbang]

Dad will always be here | B.Chan

pairing: chan x fem!reader (in which chan is your dad) summary: "I'll always be there for you, sweetheart. No matter how hard it gets, I'm by your side. We'll go through it together" He keeps reminding you of it but will it stay forever? word counts: 1.8k words genre: angst, small fluff, zombie apocalypse au warning: mention of death(nothing too detail), reader often get called by sweetheart lil note: okay, not the perfect timing, I know so enjoy :) Listen to daylight and Atlantis while reading this, I highly recommend it.

Your breath caught in your throat, making you choke as you tried in vain to calm yourself. Your legs trembled beneath you as your hands clasped over your mouth to stifle the scream of horror that escaped you. He stood in front of you, his back to you, and you could see fresh blood dripping from his quivering hand and the bat he had used to kill your mom a moment earlier… he had killed his wife. Her body lay lifeless, and a scarlet liquid spread from her head to the floor, forming a pool of blood where he stood, still in denial of what he had done. His feet seemed to be chained to the ground.

“Dad..." You called after him, your voice sounding fearful. Chan turned round, his cheeks splattered with blood, and he hastily wiped it away with his sleeve before walking towards you and gently grabbing your hand.

“I’m sorry that you had to see that.” The light you had seen in his eyes had disappeared. All you saw now were tears at the edge of his eyes, as if he were reflecting your expression, but he was still trying to gather his remaining strength to move on from the guilt. He squeezed your hand to reassure you that everything would be alright and flashed a smile you knew all too well was forced.

“We need to go now before they find us, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you just like your mother would want me to.” He unfolded your sleeves and buttoned them up, then moved to your shirt collar and did the same. A brief kiss on your forehead was the cherry on top, even though the world had gone cold, his love remained warm.

He pulled you by the hand and you followed him as he took one last look at his late wife and kissed her forehead one last time. You watched as he mouthed something into her ear before leaving the place you once called your safe place. It was hard to leave your memories and… your mom.

How long has it been since you exited the house? It was nothing the same as you last saw them – cars were abandoned on the street, cracked cars’ and houses’ windows and bodies–  It was everywhere, scattered like trash. The weight of reality was burdening you, it felt…unreal. You clenched Chan’s hand when your mind momentarily turned hazy and he instantaneously halted on his steps, his face painted with worry as he held your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded meekly “It’s funny how I see this every time I watch a movie and never I thought I’ll live in one”

“I hope this is a nightmare, sweetheart. Come on” He took a step further and accidentally stepped onto something. Retreating his leg, he bent to grab it, his other hand still attached to yours as if you would run away when his fingers were lifted. His eyes lit up in an unreadable expression after he realised it was a loaded gun.

Maybe he was glad he found something to protect him and you.

Both of you continued making your way out of the neighbourhood. His grip tightened at every sound he heard and pulled you closer to him. His gestures spoke a high volume of unspoken fear. The sun was beginning to hide behind the horizon when you arrived at the quiet main town.

Quiet? Usually, the town was chaotic at this hour – With people shouting to promote their things before closing the shop for the day and Minho was the one who brought all of them, insisting he would pay more than the given prices. Later, he would ask you to accompany him to a nearby foster house with a grin, arms filled with paper bags.

A sharp gasp bubbled out from your mouth after seeing Minho’s body leaning against the wall with his neck crooked to the side, a trail of deep shade of red was behind him. His neck was harshly bitten by the dead, his bone was in sight. Your cheeks felt damp and you let out a few suffocating sobs.  Your feet were chained to the ground as reality had finally sunk in – who was next? Whose death would you witness next?

The sounds of branches creaking behind caused Chan to snap his head toward the direction and in a swift motion, you were hauled from the back and landed on the rough path while hearing a familiar groaning above you. Slowly glancing up, you noticed the flesh eater biting into his bat as it struggled to get hold of the man. His knuckles turned white while he attempted to push it away.

“Y/N, go now! Find a safe place, I’ll meet you there”

“But Dad!”

“Sweetheart, it’s not the time to argue” His voice was calm but laced with desperation, almost sounded like he was begging toward you. How dare he? He still has the guts to say that after your mom died? Clenching your fist, you stood up and snatched the gun from his pocket, aiming straight at the creature’s head before releasing the trigger. Its loud bang echoed in the otherwise eerie town, making the animals’ heads resting nearby perk their head and run away at the sound.

Your hand shook violently when you looked over the body that had dropped. You stepped on its arm and twisted your leg, a low sound of bone breaking entered your ear as you registered the hole on its forehead oozing an eerie-looking green liquid. This was insufficient to pay for what they had done to Mom. To Minho. To everyone.

You want them to feel your suffering. Chan’s suffering.

Your lips started drawing blood due to how long you bit your lips, a scream pleading to be let out from your chest from the moment you witnessed Chan had to kill your mother. Nails dug into the palm of your skin, exasperation was raging in your mind, encouraging you to continue shooting the body to release your hatred for the zombies.

“Why…?” You whispered under your breath. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you up to his shoulder before rushing out of the town, thousands of footsteps tailing him from behind as it was after him — true, the creatures were running toward you, their green eyes bulging out from their socket as they saw their next victim.

Fuck…the gun

You shut your eyes, and a chain of muttering ‘I’m sorry Dad’ left your mouth.

“It’s fine, sweetheart” 

Soon, he stopped on his track and gently placed you back on the ground, his popping veins from his neck didn't go unnoticed by you. He must be exhausted carrying you all the way here. He should be, you’re not a little girl anymore.

He slumped down to nearby racks, and a sense of relief washed over him as he looked over to you who was locking the supermarket’s door. He chuckled, removing his bag and the necklace he received for his birthday from his late wife, and placing it close on his side. When you turned around, he saw his wife figment in you — no doubt, your mother's eyes had been passed down on you. The shelves around him began to melt down and swam toward him, the substance felt hot under his delicate fingertips and he hissed in pain as he retreated his finger from the floor.

Even your figure was distorted in his vision, your lips twitched into a huge terrifying smile that itched from cheek to cheek. A series of incoherent voices bounced in the room, whispering to him to give up. He quickly covered his ears and closed his eyes, praying it wasn’t what he thought it was. He cautiously peeled his eyes open and everything had returned to normal. 

You observe his behaviour from afar, your stomach twisted in discomfort as you realise something. 

“Dad, are you okay?”

He nodded meekly and patted the dirty floor, gesturing you to rest beside him.

“Dad, I’m sorry for acting so recklessly…” your voice filled with utter shame but he simply dismissed the topic with a head shake as you settled down. You scooted closer, hugging his arm and placing your head on his shoulder.

“Don't be, you saved me” he beamed a smile. A warm smile. A smile that was different from the previous one. He caressed your head, leaving a chaster kiss on it.

A comfortable silence hung in the air as both of you engulfed yourself in the safety of each other comfort. You tried to ignore the growing green dots on his arm as you hugged his body tighter.

No, it was probably an allergic reaction.

“Y/N, I need you to do something for me. Think of it as my last wish” You glanced at him, attempting to appear nonchalant but the thought of it happening lingered in the back of your head was something you couldn't deny.

“What are you talking about? We’ll survive Dad!” 

“I’m sorry…” he folded his sleeve and you quickly grasped his hand from doing it although you already saw the flowing liquid from a fresh wound. 

Did he get bit at home?

“No…no, you’re not! You are going to be fine, trust me” You clenched his sleeve, watching his smile drop while tears poured down. It had been a long time since you saw him so fragile, so hopeless.

“Please Dad…” 

“I’m really sorry, I try, sweetheart but I fail. I couldn't promise what your mother wanted” Intertwining your hand together, he loosened your grip and put it down, drawing a circular motion on the back of your hand.

“You’ll be fine as long as you get out of here. Leave” 

“Leave you? I wouldn't!”

“It's my last wish, Bang Y/N” He reached for the gun in your hand and pressed a kiss on your forehead – it was a goodbye kiss. It was a kiss he always gave you before leaving the house, it made you feel safe and loved all day long.

But now, it left you with a hollow chest and devastation. 

“Take care of yourself for me and your mother” 

“Dad, please…” you pleaded…and pleaded. 

“Go now, I don't want you to see me turn into them”

At the time, the green dots had arrived on his cheeks, and the brown colour of his orbs slowly disappeared. With a heavy heart, you grabbed the bag and headed for the door.

You should have ignored the early symptoms of the infection.

You should have ignored how his veins were visible on his neck

You should have stayed dumb

If that was the cost for him to stay by your side

“I love you, sweetheart”

Your shoulder jolted at the sound of the gun behind you. Gripping into the bag’s strip, the tears finally poured endlessly under you. You exited the place without looking back. You were forced to face your mother’s death and you couldn’t have the bravery to see his death. The echo from the gun reminded you of his smile and last word before your field of view turned blurry due to the tears.

“Dad will always be here”

[ruiniel]

Remember

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Kokushibō x fem!Reader

Count: 1.7K

Rating: 🔞

Chapter Tags & Warnings: POV Second Person, POV Tsugikuni Michikatsu, Blood

On AO3

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part IX

VIII.

You’d paced back and forth for the remainder of the night, preferring the outside to the mess your home had become. The persistent reek of spilled entrails was enough to keep you out for a lifetime, but at some point you’d have to do something about it. 

Let the daylight in.

You tried gathering your resolve a few times, but never made it past the threshold to your own house.

All because of him! This had become the mantra you kept chanting to yourself, while unable to avoid the sense his own words made: why would he send something like that here, if he’d intended to come himself? What use would you have been to him dead, considering what he wanted?

As a frigid gust blows through the trees, you shiver, hugging your arms around your middle. You’d not noticed before, but now you do: your yukata is stained with blood at the front, down your chest to your abdomen. It must’ve happened when he was holding you as you gave him blood, which means you’re covered in his own. 

As you stare, the dark red becomes lighter, and looking up you see the same happening to the skies. The blush of dawn is meek, but morning is sure to arrive. You turn around, a heavy sigh leaving your chest, still trapped in the turmoil of the previous night, with thought after thought shimmying to the forefront like night moths. The matter is, he did help preserve your life… again. And then you paid him back—you’re even. You feel you owe him nothing else, and he did agree to keep away from now on.

A peculiar sensation stirs your nerves when you remember the careful way his lips pressed against your wrist, the slow movement of his jaw and tongue as he took what he needed. For such a gruesome act, this time you felt no rush of forcefulness from him and it was nothing like the previous time. Your cheeks feel hot despite the cool predawn air, and your heartbeat thrums harder through your body. It must be the lack of sleep and weakness in the aftermath. Your shadow blackens against the paper and wooden lattice work frame of the shoji panel. Moving forward, you remember his words, and slide it open. 

It’s a clear day, and fresh sunlight bursts inside the space where the creatures lay—one having fallen unconscious, the other in pieces. Your gaze lingers on the less grisly sight of the two. The man lying on the floor is just as you left him hours ago. He looks awful with his hair disheveled, his throat and chest smeared in brownish red. 

Just as you cautiously close in, a strange sound distracts you, and your gaze follows the source.

The body of the demon he’d slain is… breaking apart?

In the day’s light, limbs and all shrivel in an instant and dissipate into black smoke like a nefarious offering. Stunned, you watch the bloodstains on the floor evaporating, and in the end, apart from the toppled pieces of furniture, it’s as though nothing had ever happened. 

So this… is what he meant?

The thought comes just as a low moan reaches your ears and, sure enough, you look to the source. The light mostly doesn’t reach where he’s sprawled on the floor, but half of his face is turned towards it, cut by the sun. The sound of scorching flesh accompanies the wounds like fire burns spreading on his forehead and cheek, but his eyes stay closed even as his fingers cramp uselessly at his sides. 

In the next heartbeat, you run over, taking a hold of both his wrists and dragging him completely into a shaded corner of the room. He’s heavier than you thought, but you make do. You rise, watching the searing burns slowly recede as new skin is formed.

Even after all you’ve seen in just one night, the sight feels surreal. Your gaze trails to his throat. The area is smeared with blood, and there’s not much you can tell from here. No answers will come from his own mouth either, since he still lies there, ghastly pale, appearing as one dead.

What to do? What do I do?

Some time passes before you take a decision, your feet padding towards the bedroom.

Light forms shapes before him, taking space in his vision. He tries to focus, but can’t, falling into oblivion again. When it happens again, the shapes are more defined. A face, hands upon him. Both are so recognizable, the movements so known to him, and a deeply buried regret writhes within. The shapes fade once more.

He hates it, hates being in this state. 

When he again feels his own body tense and his consciousness returns, on reflex, his hand snatches the wrist of another reaching for him.

He blinks, and reality finally settles. He pulls on the wrist without thought, and strands of hair brush against his chest. A hiss reaches him, and a voice. “It hurts! Let… go…”

He stares at the owner of the voice, finding your wary face, eyebrows knit in discomfort. You’d been kneeling by his side, it seems… what are you doing here? 

Oh, yes. 

It burns when he breathes. The first change he notices is his vitality—it has returned. There is no more constant pain, no reminder of a humiliation four centuries old. When he reaches for his throat, there is no open gash. 

It worked. 

He recalls the previous night, detail after detail joined like the pieces of a broken mirror. And once the image is complete, he sees the most important fragment. He tells himself it cannot be, and yet, when he gazes at you now, he… he… 

He looks at himself, finding his upper body is bare.

“Where… are my…”

“Please let go, you’re bruising my arm!” 

He releases you as if burnt. 

“Your clothing was drenched in blood,” you say, rubbing at your wrist and looking anywhere but at him. “I… I thought it best to remove it lest it stain other things.”

Sure enough, a quilted blanket covers him—when he tosses it aside, his hakama are undone but still in place, but he’s never been this disheveled in all his days. If it were anyone else, their head would be rolling outside in the garden by now. But you… you…

The audacity coupled with your sense of practicality mellows his displeasure, and besides… this feels awfully, hauntingly familiar. 

He slowly turns to the side and tries to rise, propped on one elbow. You’re still not looking at him as you continue, pointing at a bundle by his head. He looks, finding a spread black kimono and a folded white undershirt on the floor. “You can… try these if you wish. They belonged to my… my father.”

“... gratitude.”

He asks no more, though it appears his neck and hands have been scrubbed clean of blood as well. Haltingly, he rises even as you turn away. 

Once dressed, he stares at your figure, now standing before the open panels of your old house, gazing outside. 

Why? Why now, after so many years? The question has no answer. You’re standing in the light, where he cannot reach.

“You may wait here until evening falls, if you need to,” you say.  

He doesn’t need to. One thought and he’d be back at the fortress. And yet... “You’ve been exceedingly gracious. I see the remains have dispersed,” he says. 

You nod. “I saw how it happens. I understand what you meant now.”

“Hm, yes.”

You slide the panel shut, then turn to him, speaking with forced calm. “I’ll make tea.”

“Wait.” 

You look at him. “...?”

“... your blade. The one you were holding last night. May I see it?”

Hesitation crosses your features. “I…” 

You trail off, however, turning and walking towards him, stepping past him, to where said weapon is set on its stand. You return and present it to him.

He doesn’t take it. He merely stares at the designs on the scabbard, their shape, at you.

He balls the hands at his sides into fists to control a loathsome tremor rushing through his body like lightning. 

You run a finger over the scabbard. “It is… a family heirloom. It was carried through generations so far back not even my parents could say for certain to whom it belonged originally.”

“Beautiful craftsmanship,” is all he says.

Seeing that he’ll make no other remarks nor reach out for it, you return the blade to its place, then head over to make that tea.

As you kneel, occupied with your task, he soundlessly follows. 

“You mentioned hundreds of years.”

“Pardon?” he asks, distracted. His hands still shake, heedless of his attempts at control. 

“Last time… you said you… you’ve been like this for hundreds of years.”

“That is true.”

His own blade has appeared in his hand as a reminder shoots through his bones.

Whatever it is that keeps you from your duties... Get rid of it. 

“Which means, you were once human,” you continue, your back still turned.

“Correct.”

He raises his sword with both hands. One slash, a single, clean slash. A swift end, and he’d be free. If he does not do this now, the weakness you represent might cause unexpected havoc. It would interfere with his goal. It already does. 

You sense nothing—his movements are as sleek and silent as stream water. 

“You must’ve had a name, then.”

The blade is set in his hands, ready to strike. “I did. But… it does not matter anymore. I am no longer that person.”

“Still…” You tell him your own name. “What about yours?”

His eyes burn. Images flood their way in. A weeping willow, its branches swaying in the wind. Gentle hands. A face, now smiling, now caught in the throes of pain or longing, now weeping.

One slash. His breath is stuck in his throat. “... Tsugikuni Michikatsu,” he says through gritted teeth. “That was my name.”

You’re silent for a moment, then your lips part on the word. “... Michikatsu.”

Like a holy seal to his powers, that forgotten name spoken in your voice turns his knees weak, and his arms won’t move. His gaze roams to your bandaged wrist. 

“A good name,” you murmur. 

With a suppressed growl, he whirls around, fluidly sheathing his sword at the same time. You turn the next moment, having sensed a shift in the air. Tea in hand, you stare at his back in bewilderment as he stalks away.

Part IX

[picafreesita]

🌈4🌈

When my head touched the pillow in an instant, the morning light arrived…

Exactly, it was already daylight.

I quickly got up, looked around, next to me I had Sally and Julie peacefully asleep, the occasional snore coming out of their mouths. It was as if they had actually slept more hours than I felt. What was happening? Sunlight flooded the house just like yesterday's birdsong.

From outside you could hear a good morning. I went out and went to the first window I could find, opened it and watched as the neighborhood filled with life again with the neighbors.

Wait…what was that smell?

It was strange, it was as if it were something dead, a nauseating smell that was mixed with hints of sweet smell; I had never smelled anything like that. I took several inhalations to look for its origin, this only made me begin to lean forward, allowing a part of my body to come out of the window.

I turned to look down.

Its colors were vibrant, it was as if a rainbow rested on each petal except for some that were a deep blue color that took away the symmetry of its beauty; Although this sounded like the most incredible thing about their figure is not compared to those black and white spots that stole the spotlight from the rest, I would swear that they seemed to be… eyes

I frowned as I felt a new wave of his foul scent.

"Good morning, Jolly" Poppy greeted me from the street, I could see her standing.

"Oh hello"

She walked towards me and told me

"Do you really like flowers? They are wonderful, don't you think?"

"The aroma calls me… a strange aroma, I had never smelled anything like it"

"Where do you come from the pansies don´t exist? These grow everywhere, you could even find them in soup. Sometimes I like to use them for that, they give it a good touch with other ingredients"

"I guess it tastes better than it smells, its smell is horrible" I let out a small laugh.

"That can't be"

Poppy bent down to cut one of those flowers and then smell it.

"To me, it seems like a sweet and splendid smell, even Eddie and Julie make wreaths with them"

She handed it to me and I smelled it again, in a quick reaction I frowned and moved it away from me.

"Maybe the problem is my nose, it may be broken"

"Oh no! Let me see" With her big wings she took my face to see it closer to her, she held me so tightly that the only thing on the other side of the window was my feet hanging on its frame.

"It seems that everything is in order," she said with a sigh of relief, returning me inside.

"Oh, good morning Poppy," Sally greeted behind me. The two girls slowly walked out of the pillow fort.

"Hello girls" She kindly waved one of her wings as a greeting.

"Yes, I'm hungry. What do you want for breakfast?" Julie asked.

"Waffles! "Let's make waffles!" she said, Sally.

"I'll see you in a while, enjoy your breakfast," Poppy said saying goodbye and walking away from the window.

Both girls shouted:

-We will do it!-

During breakfast, Sally and Julie began to play with their food, they decorated it with colored sprinkles and syrups of all the flavors you can imagine to form funny faces on them, I don't know if it was just me but my waffle looked like…

"David" I whispered in a sad tone.

"Did you say something? Is there something wrong with your Mr. waffle?" Sally asked.

"No, nothing. Only Mr. Waffle is very delicious" I responded with a smile.

Looking at the clock in the living room I noticed that it was 10 in the morning.

"I think I better get ready to leave" I interrupted and then got up on the table.

"Wait!"

Julie also got up and told me:

"I have been thinking and we should wash and even mend your clothes"

"It's true, you should leave completely renewed. This way you will have much more strength to find your friends,” Sally replied.

"I really don't want to abuse your kindness" I responded.

"I insist, now we are friends. And friends always support each other"

I guess they had a good point, what I was wearing were nothing more than scraps that I found along my way, things that I could even consider as proof of my survival.

"So what am I going to use? I don't think I can´t spend most of the day in my pajamas"

"Let's see what's in my closet, you may be a little taller than me, but I Julie "fashion icon" know that I have something perfect for you, trust my magical design skills," She said moving his fingers while He began to walk backward until he entered the room.

"Come on!" Sally said pushing me inside. After they finished getting ready it was my turn.

I scrolled through thousands of outfits, some that were tight and some that were too baggy, many more was like something Sally said "didn't suit my vibe," from plain colored clothes to those that had the most eye-catching patterns I've ever seen. Dresses, pants, scarves, shirts, and more flew through the air creating thousands of possible combinations.

"Wait a minute, I think I found the perfect outfit!" Julie said, confident of herself.

In a last round, they dressed me in a three-piece outfit along with some white high-waisted boots. It was a long, puffy, colorful shirt that was accompanied by a black vest with hearts sewn on as pockets and along with an orange skirt.

"I think…I think I like it" I said

"It's perfect!" They shouted at the same time.

"But there's still something to fix, and that's your hairstyle," Sally said.

"That´s a cinch!" I was dragged again, only now towards the bathroom where they began to brush.

"Gosh, I didn't realize that many parts of your hair are shorter than others everywhere"

"I cut it myself" I confessed embarrassed.

"I'll have to match it. Sally, scissors"

A hairdressing gown had covered me up to my shoulders.

"Let's get to work!" Julie exclaimed.

After a certain time, I began to see many strands sliding smoothly on the hairdressing gown.

"Now we have to style it"

With a few more brushes and several passes of hairspray, Julie was finally done.

"Vuala! My masterpiece!"

When I looked in the mirror I couldn't believe that it was me that was in front of me, I got up and took off the hairdressing gown revealing the complete look.

"Wow"

Sally laughed and said:

"Yes, you are pretty"

I couldn't stop looking at me from head to toe. Am I really pretty?

"Very well, since we are all ready, it is time to go" Julie indicated.

She took my clothes and put them in a yellow bag.

We left the house heading to Poppy's house which was sitting knitting near one of her windows. Julie kindly asked her to fix my clothes and she accepted the task without any problem and even told me that I looked very pretty.

"Thank you," I said shyly.

When we said goodbye we walked to Wally's house to find out what he had in store for us that day.

🌈3<<<;<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>>5🌈

[reneesbooks]

febuwhump day 1 -- in another life

starting off immediately with one of the alternative prompts because i couldn't think of anything for vocal chords :) canon status: alternate universe pov character: maura words: 2.4k

the raedoran cycle

Maura stretches her arms out over her head, squinting at the horizon.

“I’m bored,” Birdie complains, flopping down onto the dusty road next to her. “How much longer do we have to wait?”

“They’ll be back soon,” Maura insists, twisting the ends of her hair around her fingers a little nervously. She’d calculated the journey so precisely, looking through Levi’s books and maps by candlelight and scratching out the math in the margins. Unless something happened to them on the road, they should be arriving any minute. Technically, they should have arrived an hour ago, but she’s willing to believe that she messed up one calculation.

A cloud of dust appears on the horizon and Maura perks up, trying to discern the shape that’s slowly approaching the town.

“Finally,” Birdie says, pulling herself up off the ground. “I’m going home.”

She flounces off and Maura sticks her tongue out after her. She’s gotten so sassy for a four-year-old, something Maura fully blames Levi and his bad jokes for. She turns back to the road and the distant dust cloud. As it draws closer, she recognizes the plodding old mare and the creaky wooden cart that she’s pulling. She presses her hands to her lips, bouncing on her toes as the cart finally draws close enough for her to see the people sitting in the front seat.

“You’re always here to greet us,” Padraigh laughs, swinging down from the cart as it pulls to a stop. Maura smiles as he pulls her into a hug, smelling of wine and oak barrels. “I think I’ll know when the world has ended—when we come down this road and you are not standing at the end of it.”

“Dad,” Keys complains, throwing the reins over the mare’s head so he can lead her away from the cart. “You’re making fun of her.”

“You’re the one who made her wait so long today,” Padraigh says, releasing Maura to take the horse. “He made a wrong turn and we had to backtrack. That’s what I get for letting him drive.”

“Dad!” Keys protests, his cheeks reddening, but his father is already walking away with the horse. Keys turns to Maura with a sigh, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s true, though. That’s why we’re late.”

“I didn’t notice,�� Maura says, and his lips twist into a smirk. “Did you bring anything interesting back from Inverga?”

He grins and turns back to the cart, rummaging around in the back before he returns, holding something behind his back. “What’s the magic word?” She punches him in the gut and he lets out a laughing wheeze, his hands coming around to the front. “Alright, alright! Here.”

He’s holding a map, the edges worn and curled with age. Maura takes it from him, skimming over the words written across it. “It’s a map of Guildi,” she says, delighted.

“Good,” Keys says, sounding pleased. “That means I bought the right one.”

She laughs, looking up at him, and feels her chest squeeze at the soft look in his bright green eyes. “You weren’t sure?”

His hand touches the back of his neck again. “I’m still not the best reader,” he says sheepishly. “Levi’s a good teacher but I’m not a very good student.”

Maura lets the comment go, grabbing his hand. “Come on. I want to take a look at this somewhere I won’t get wine on it.”

He rolls his eyes at her but lets her drag him back towards the village. Leyne is starting to wind down in preparation for the evening, villagers drifting between houses and the market stalls that are still open. A few greet Maura and Keys as they pass and Maura checks for Birdie’s silver head, spotting it rolling around in the mud with one of the other children. She smiles at the sight and pulls Keys to a stop at the fountain in the center of town, laying out the map on the stone bench next to it. The quickly-fading daylight sparkles through the water of the fountain, casting shimmering reflections across the surface of the parchment.

“My father was a soldier from Guildi,” Maura says, tracing her finger over the ridges of the Shattered Mountains down the center of the map. “My mother used to live here—” she presses her finger to Trea, right along the Raedoran border “—and she met my father when his platoon spent some time in the city.” She traces her finger along the map up to the mountains along the western coast. “He’d been stationed here, and wanted to take my mother with him when he returned. She went at first, but after a few years she realized she didn’t love him and left, returning to Raedora.”

“And your father?” Keys murmurs, leaning in close. Maura resists the urge to press herself against him, aware of the eyes of the village on them.

“He was from the other side of the Shattered Mountains originally.” Maura trails her finger across the map, to where Titrodoreos sits on the eastern coast. “He traveled a long way from home before he met my mother, and she said that when she left, he traveled the long way back.”

Keys reaches out to touch the map, running callused fingers over the faded ink. “That seems like a lonely journey.”

Maura shrugs. “His family was waiting for him. He wasn’t lonely forever.”

She rolls up the map and twists it in her hands, suddenly unable to meet Keys’s gaze. “Do you want to have dinner with us tonight?” she asks his boots, feeling her heart fluttering with nerves.

“I...okay,” Keys says, sounding nearly as flustered as she feels. “I’ll just...go tell my parents.”

Maura nods and he walks off briskly, his step bouncing just a little. She bites her lip and runs for her house.

Her mother is in the kitchen, cooking something for dinner, and Levi is just leaving when she arrives. He quickly swings his staff out of the way before Maura can run right into it, chuckling a little. “Maura, dear, you’re home. I take that to mean Keelan and his father have returned from Inverga?”

“Can he come by for dinner tonight?” Maura blurts, still catching her breath. Her mother laughs, turning to kiss Maura’s forehead.

“Of course, you know he’s always welcome,” she says, returning to her cooking. “Levi, dear, please be sure Birdie doesn’t bring in anything magical again. The stains in my good carpet are getting harder to get out.”

“I know, Rose,” Levi says, kissing her cheek on his way out. “I’ll be sure to check her before she comes inside.”

Maura paces the kitchen while her mother works, feeling golden wisps of magic curl around her fingers with her nerves. She shouldn’t be nervous; they’ve had Keys over for dinner a hundred times before. And yet ever since they got older, she’s noticed more and more how his gaze lingers on her, and she’s found her gaze lingering on him, her heart pumping and stuttering when their eyes meet.

A knock sounds at the door and Maura walks briskly to it, flinging it open to grin at Keys standing on the other side. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says with a smile. “My parents send their best.”

“How lovely,” Maura’s mother says. “Come on in, Keelan, and make yourself at home.”

Levi returns with Birdie, who is covered in mud and giggling while he lectures her sternly about biting. He takes her to the back garden to clean her off and Keys helps her mother set the table. Birdie bounces around the kitchen barefoot once Levi releases her back into the house, singing a nonsense song of her own creation and levitating the plates off the table. Keys manages to convince her to stop by letting her sit in his lap for dinner, and she bounces there happily while he says the dinner prayer. Maura loves how gentle he is with Birdie, always letting her tug him into whatever game she’s invented or babble to him for hours about the animals she saw in the woods. He meets Maura’s eyes over the table and she has to look away, blushing.

The sky is darkening, the silver and blue moons starting to rise, when Keys leaves. Maura sees him off, making him promise to walk in the woods with her tomorrow. He does, with a smile that makes her heart stutter. She floats around the house, oblivious to the looks her mother and Levi exchange. She goes to bed still floating, hardly noticing Birdie muttering in her sleep.

She’s woken by Birdie’s little hands shaking her. She opens her eyes to see Birdie standing next to her bed, the tears on her cheeks glowing silver.

“Something bad is happening,” she whispers, and Maura’s whole body goes cold. She throws herself out of bed and runs to the door, cracking it open. She can hear footsteps in the house, the faint sound of men talking outside. She peers through the crack and sees a pale arm laying on the floor, a dark pool surrounding it.

She presses her hand to her mouth to stifle her scream and slams her eyes shut. Birdie is trembling, pressed against her, and she grips her hand.

“It’s going to be okay, duckling,” she whispers. They have to run, but where? She closes the door and scans the room. “Come on, we’re going to go out the window.”

“I’m scared,” Birdie says, more tears pouring down her cheeks.

“I know,” Maura says, pulling her towards the window. “I know, it’s going to be okay.”

There is a cold, empty feeling stealing through her chest as she works to get the window open. She hears a man’s voice shout from the other room of the house and shoves the window harder, panic and fear pumping through her veins.

The bedroom door slams open and Birdie screams. Maura whirls around to see a man standing there, blood dripping off a cruel knife the length of his forearm. His gaze moves from Birdie to Maura, his expression twisting into a snarl. “The treasure of Leyne,” he spits. He points the knife at Birdie. “Silver.” The tip of the knife moves to point at Maura. “And gold.”

“Momma?” Birdie says, staring behind the man at where Maura can see the pale arm again, belonging to her mother, laying in a pool of her own blood. Levi is collapsed against the wall next to her, his staff laying on the floor just out of his reach. Blood stains the front of his nightclothes and drips from his mouth, a knife still hilt-deep in his chest. “Papa?”

“What did you find back there?” another man’s voice calls, and Maura feels magic burning under her skin, the blood dripping off the man’s knife all she can see anymore. Birdie screams again, silver magic blasting the man back, and Maura hears a sickening crunch as he hits the far wall. Maura turns and throws magic at the window, shattering the glass and collapsing half the wall along with it. She uses another blast of magic to clear a hole for herself and Birdie, who is still standing in the same place, screaming with sobs as silver light pours from her. Maura snatches her up off the floor as another man rounds the corner, holding a sword, and throws herself through the gap in the wall. They run through the moonlit fields to the edge of the woods

“We have to hide, Birdie, you have to be quiet,” she says, as more screams start to echo from the village. Birdie slowly quiets, pressing her hands over her mouth. The silver light rolling off her dims and Maura pulls her into a tight hug, curling up at the base of a tree. She can hear more screams and buries her face in Birdie’s silver hair, sobbing as quietly as she can.

“Momma and Papa,” Birdie wails softly, and Maura tries to push away the image of her parents, empty eyes staring at each other. Her mother’s hand reaching for their bedroom. What did those men want? Why did they kill them?

She holds Birdie as tightly as she can and waits for the sunrise.

----

Keelan steps into the rubble of Maura’s house, shaking fingers gripping the blood-slick pommel of his sword with all the strength left in him.

“Maura?” he calls out, his voice thin and cracked. The fire has gone out, the walls half-collapsed. In the main room lie Rosaleen and Levi, blood pooled around their bodies. There’s a dead raider on the floor next to Levi, blood staining his mouth. Keelan looks away from the unseeing eyes, numb to it by now. “Maura? Please, Maura, say something!”

The ruins don’t answer him, nor do the bodies on the floor. He pushes past the collapsed walls to Maura and Birdie’s room, his stomach dropping as he still finds nothing. There is a hole in the collapsed wall that could be big enough for them to fit through. He climbs through it and finds himself standing at the edge of the fields, staring out towards the forest.

“Maura!” he screams. “Maura, please, Maura!”

This is why he left their house for last, why every body made him put this off longer. He’s already going to have to bury his parents and everyone else in the town, but burying Maura is what will break him.

“Maura,” he sobs, sinking to his knees in the field.

“Keys!” he faintly hears, and his head jerks up. He sees a blonde blur running towards him and sobs again with relief, finally dropping his sword. He stumbles to his feet and catches Maura when she hits him, wrapping her in his arms as tightly as he can. She sobs his name again and again, her fingers digging into his back.

“Keys,” Birdie’s little voice says, hollow. She’s suddenly standing at his side, her hand clutched in the hem of his shirt. She stares blankly at the town behind him. “We’re all that’s left,” she says, with a certainty that makes Keelan’s blood curdle.

Maura sobs against Keelan’s shoulder and he pulls Birdie close. “It’s going to be okay,” he says, even as it feels like a lie.

He and Maura sit together on the edge of the fountain in the center of town, Birdie curled into a tight ball at their feet. There are no bodies out here, at least, the raiders having dragged everyone back into their houses to burn. Maura leans against Keelan, haunted eyes staring blankly at the burned-out chapel.

“Maybe in another life,” she says in a small voice, “this didn’t happen.”

Keelan closes his eyes, pulling her close. “Maybe.”

taglist (ask to be added <3): @oh-no-another-idea @k--havok @space-writes @lyssa-ink

[songsofbloodandwater]

Hey, how’re you? 13 and 12 for the asks

Hello! All good here, deeply enjoying the beginning of autumn and the much lower temperatures, how have you been?

12) what do you think your practice would taste like? If one could taste a magico-religious practice

Honestly, blood. Whatever blood can taste like. I've had moments where it's just metallic and asphyxiating, and others when it's pungent but peppery, almost floral.

I really wanted to say something normal, like bread, or milk, or some herbal tea. Or a passed down family recipe. I also thought of water and all that it represents to us. But realistically, it's just blood. I'm sorry if that answer is kind of predictable coming from me!

13) How does your craft feel in the spring vs in the darker months?

In my experience, the most tangible difference comes from the differences between Day Spirits, and Night Spirits. Traditionally, in my family, there's specific workings that we cannot do at night, the lack of sunlight means the Spirits that would be called are not the kind of spirits you'd want to call at all. This type of belief extends to seasons. Seasons stem from the natural changes in daylight hours available on Earth, and we see it as not just the plant life adapting to the colder months, but the spirits associated with the Land also adapting, hibernating, migrating (within this Realm or to other realms), or being in whatever way less available to us. Some, entirely unreachable.

In my opinion it's not that the Day and Night courts are "rotating" and one season or the other belongs entirely to one or the other court. It's simply that in the darker months the tangible presence of the Night Court becomes most prevalent, dominant, due to the absence of most of the Day Court, and viceversa. But they're always coexisting to varying degrees.

In my family that means we begin the warm months in August-September, awakening and feeding the earth and then slowly welcoming back the different allies and relatives of my spirit family throughout the next spring and summer months, as they come and as we get to spend time with them. It reaches a peak in December, with Solar festivities. Then starts to decline again throughout the next months, until we reach the "Lunar" peak, and the weakest moment of the Sun and Day court, in June with the Longest Night of the year. My seasonal calendar isn't just depending on daylight hours, but also on the apparent cycles of certain sacred constellations across the sky, so throughout the year I'm paying attention to Them and working with each as they come and go aswell, for example, the Southern Cross's rotation marks some special dates for me in regards to the fertility of the Land and to the Beloved Dead, or the Pleiades appearing and disappearing, carrying messages and omens, bringing with them certain Spirits and their influence, and taking them away as they go.

It feels like a family reunion that lasts months instead of hours. When people just start arriving, when there's feast and stories and sharing and warmth, and then everyone starts saying their goodbyes again, until next year. Summer is the height of the party. Winter is the only time of the year that reflects what you'd normally imagine from everyday family life, when it's just me and the Spirits that walk with me, that "live with me in that house", so to speak. In practicality, that means more outwards work during the warmer months (in relation to the Land and Spirits that are tied to different kinds of cyclical natures), more inwards work and "housekeeping" of my own courts during the cold dark months. There's still some work to do with perennial spirits during the winter (for example, La Dolorosa and The Wild King, and their respective courts, are mostly unaffected by the seasons) but it's still a smaller workload in general when in comparison to the warm months.

Hope that makes sense! thanks for asking these were fun!

[silver-inked-quill]

The Last Hours of a Herondale

Ch. 4 Just like a pic nic

Pairing: Matthew Fairchild x Herondale reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: use of drugs and alchohol, mentions of blood and seizures, violence, sexual content and harassment (these do not apply on every chapter they go for the whole story)

I was standing at the Cornwall Gardens next to our dad while James stood on our mom’s side while Lucie was standing between them. I could feel her joy hyperventilating in enthusiasm. I on the other hand wasn’t in the best mood. I was prepared for breakfast at home and suddenly I have to change. I am aware that this is not such big deal, however, I like to dress more modestly when I am outside covering as much skin as possible. So instead of my sweet boat necked dress that came into an a line skirt I wore a long sleeved high necked dress in a mermaid ending that deleted the shape of my silhouette. My simple braided ended up being curled and twisted around my neck. To upbeat my mood my mama carefully placed her clockwork angel around my neck before we set off. I was wearing a light pink cloak that matched my mulberry colored dress.

The carriage stopped right in front of us and Sona was the first one to disembark followed by her two children. I could see Daisey scanning the lot of us, I didn’t pay much attention until Sona touched my elbow, as in a warm gesture and that snapped me and thankfully only out of my thoughts. “You must remember the age of sixteen Tessa, all dances and dresses.” I heard Sona say.

“No but I do recall attending a vampire dance and some other party where Benedict Lightwood turned into a worm due to demon pox” My mother replied and I breathed in satisfaction for no reason, it is not as if I dislike Sona.

“Mother” Lucie exclaimed scandalized.

“Well he did turn into a worm”  James added with a light grind.

“It was more of a vicious serpent…”  our father corrected them putting one his serious not face.

“It was a very important part of demon pox, scientifically speaking.” I added to lighten the atmosphere.

“Now that you mention it thank Cecily for me, for the domestic assistance.” Sona spoke as the luggage was being transferred to the house. “Cordelia this will be a mess. Why don’t you take Lucie and Y/N for a walk” she suggested.

“And James could escort you. Perhaps the Kensington Gardens.” My mother suggested. I was in no mood to follow and they knew but I would do it for Lucie. My dad rubbed my shoulders looking at me.

“Patience” He whispered in my ear before I followed the girls and my father. I had an awful mood, I disliked the change of plans and daylight for that matter. Unlike my sister who was thrilled for such activities. I am more of an night owl.

We strolled down the streets to arrive at the gardens. I had my armed tangled to my brother’s as he was escorting me as a gentleman. Truth is I heard mom and dad speaking of marriage concerning me and I honestly couldn’t be more happy that both of them agreed to not push me on the matter. Besides I had things concerned my personal life I kept secrets no one knew of them.

“I thought this would never happen, you coming here” Lucie spoke cuddling Cordelia’s side.

“Why not? Law says if you are to be parabatai you should train together.” James spoke to assure our little sister.

“Perhaps she could stay at the institute. Papa adores her” Lucie spoke, I  was so happy to see her enthusiasm unfold.

“I think your father adores any Carstairs.” Cordelia spoke and I smiled brightly at that. It was true. “Even my brother”

“I happen to actually like Alastair.”  I spoke and I saw the glare of betrayal on James’ gaze. “At least I feel like we bond over our constant whining and permanent coldness to everyone that isn’t ours.” I explained briefly and squeezed my brother’s arm discreetly. “You really have to love people like us to tolerate that.” I joked lightly.

“You are not constantly moody. I happen to find you amusing.” Cordelia spoke and smiled.

“Yes because I consider you from the people I can trust Daisy… Your people shall be my people…  that’s what the vow says. And with Matthew it is no different.” I unriddled my  thoughts to her and smiled.

“Means a lot to get that from the eldest Herondale sibling” Daisy smiled and made me laugh.

“it was fifteen minutes you know…” James groaned annoyed.

“Ohh shush little brother” I smiled at him and placed my head on his arm hugging him a bit. James turned at me but didn’t comment further only squeezing my hand.

“So how about I spent the day with my best friend…” Lucie spoke and looked at me and then at James.

“Alright, I will be ten steps behind like a train bearer. But I have to keep you within sight otherwise mother will kill me and then I will miss tomorrow’s ball and then Matthew would kill me and I would be twice as dead.” James spoke and I remained next to him. Once Luce and Daisy were far enough I looked up at him.

“I told uncle Jem about the vision. Did you talk with him?” I asked my brother.

“No but I requested a hearing.” He replied and looked down at me. “Thank you for sleeping at Lucie’s room. I know how you feel when you are not at your place with your things… Did you had any other flashnack other than the Devil’s Tavern? I mean at Lucie’s room or with the furniture and all…” He asked me as we kept our gaze to the girls that were speaking in front of us.

“No I did not. I am good. Honestly it is only my fear to not see something I cannot stand. I mean from the very first things I saw was Jessamine dying in our father’s arms, when I touched her doll house. Or aunt Ella dead when dad hugged me after that.” I explained briefly and James didn’t speak.

“You have never told me what you saw first.” He noticed and looked at me.

“Well… you know. Clockwork creatures attack at the institute, uncle Jem slowly dying, mom taken away, auntie Charlotte pregnant to Charlie trying to defend Henry and there is Jessamine and dad… He was already injured, and she took a hit for him.” I spoke up and took a breath. “I can feel the pain of the person I am seeing you know… this is why I have never touched Jem’s violin or the mom or dad.” I added and looked away for several moments.

“That is why you do not touch any of us. Right?” He asked, his voice was too quiet too heavy.

“No, I deny that because I am scared that I amy see the future and not the past. It has happened three times before…” I added before he could actually ask me. “Can we change the subject?” I asked him and looked at him. He looked at me and pulled me into a where where only the fabric of our clothes actually touched and I had to admit it was relieving.

“I haven’t asked you yet how is it going with that Bridgestock guy that has been around your tail?” James asked me and looked at me.

“Well he has been running around like Oscar and I ignore him with the absolute success although he doesn’t seem to accept ignorance for an answer. The worse that could happen is him asking my hand and me saying no.” I explained briefly. “This is why I practically danced even with Charlie at the last ball. Even he doesn’t like his fiancee’s brother.” I joked lightly. He didn’t comment further he only held my hand and squeezed it.

~

It was the night of the ball and I was getting ready as Anna and Barbara Lightwood were in my room, we all called each other cousins even though we were blood related only to Anna. Anna was setting Barbara’s hair steady. I came out of the folding screen wearing a gown, its decolette was queen anne styled and had the color of mahogany just like there was a layer of illusions on the skirt on the same color, the ball gown dress was maroon as the it was touching the ground. Barbara insisted that I let my hair down and she started fixing the curls and add some accessories, I was unsure which ones.

“Let’s make you shine more, shall we?”  Anna commented and opened the drawer of my makeup. I rarely used because I was too bored of that process.

“Do we really have to?” I asked her and raised my eye brows and looked at her through the mirror.

“You are too moody and glitter always fixes the mood” Barbara agreed and borrowed my brush to fix her hair. She looked prettier than anyone I ever saw. “Do you think Ollie will like the dress?” She asked us.

“Oliver would like you even if you wore the uniform of the Queens guard.” I commented as Anna told me to keep my eyelids closed. I could feel her applying something on the cup of my eye and then she was adding mascara to my eye lashes. She then returned to my eyes.

“She is not wrong Barb” Anna commented as she then added some blush on my cheeks.

“Owo, Y/N! You look breathtaking.” Barbara spoke adoringly and massaged my shoulders lightly. She was wearing gloves and I felt a shudder of relief as she did. They both knew of my issue and they were used to be attentive around my room.

I opened my eyes and I couldn’t help but smile. Glitter was indeed making everything look better and me included. “Anna, this is amazing. Thank you so much, both of you.” I smiled and got up making a turn.

“Awe your welcome kiddo” Anna spoke and tugged some hair behind my ear with storge. I looked at her. “And if anyone dares to comment anything. Oh just let me know.” She said as we started making our way to the ballroom when we heard noises from the game room.

“What if they call me ‘bohemian’? Excuse them it is not an insult.” I smiled and turned to see Matthew and James fighting over my father’s bouse.

“Bohemian?” James asked lowly. 

“What?” Math asked James “Oh Anna Have you been sent to fetch us? He then asked aagain sagging against my brother’s shoulder.

“If by fetch you mean drag you back to the ball room since I cannot really take care of all those girls?” Anna asked holding the doo, while I was on the corridor. Barbara waved at us and left to meet her fiancée and I took a step forward.

“And I am certain all those ladies are waiting for you three…”  I smiled as I leaned charmingly to the door frame. “Perhaps I could join?” I asked. I was only mocking them. I never knew a bit of glitter and some blush could cheer me up like that. Anna knows what she is doing.

“Owo… The bohemian…” Math spoke and his gaze was fixed on me, he was drunk again and I could tell.

“All prepared for the Ari’s brother I see.” My brother commented and I raised my eyebrow.

Anna looked at me and took my hand “Oh I didn’t make art on our Y/N to give her straight to him!” she exclaimed and looked at me. “I will dance with her. No one will be as pretty as my cousin” She smiled and I hugged her causing shocked expressions to the pair of parabatai.

“Speaking of art, you still have my coat.” Math commented as he carefully took my hand and we all made our way to the ball room

“I thought it was disposable.” I commented looking at him, his eyes were fixed on the glitter around my eyes.

“So you don’t have it? Shame, things touched by me are too precious.” He sighed as he was walking pretty straight for a drunk person. His fingers tangled around mine, he was only touching my glove, the only fabric less part of my body where my neck and collarbone, so I felt rather safe.

“Oh I have it. Therefore since your declaration of perish concerning the clothing I adopted it. Namely it is no longer yours Mr. Fairchild. I am incredibly sorry.”  I spoke, my tone was formal and I looked at him. My smirk was playful as I looked at him.

Math giggled lightly. “Very well miss Herondale, I am afraid you owe me the first dance of your night. It is the least you can do after kidnapping my precious coat.” He added and as soon as we got at the ball room I felt his hand on my waist pulling me against his body. His one hand gently held mine gently. I wasn’t left with many choices. I placed my arm around his neck. Despite my heels, I was still much shorter. I hadn’t realized how much taller than me he actually is. I felt a weird feeling in my stomach as I was noticing details on Matthew that I never had the years before. It was triggering an arrythmia that was oddly euphoric.

“All of a sudden you lost your voice Lina? Looks like there are more things that unnerve you. You just can’t get enough of my face” Math remarked as his voice was laced with a bizarre ounce of satisfaction. It was the moment I admitted to myself how much I like his voice spelling my name. It was true that I was never quiet around Math. I was seizing every chance that was given to him to be ironic or mock him just like I did with James.

“Don’t be flattered Matthew. I look up to you only because I am short.” I cameback with a smart reply. I had better moments than this one, I must admit.

“Oh, that’s the best answer you can come up with?” He asked me and suddenly pushed me into a small turn before pulling me back to him, once again slightly crushing to his body. I gasped.

“A little heads up the next time would be much appreciated.” I smiled at him and looked around.

“Who are you looking for?” Math asked me, he was curious and I could tell.

“They are looking at us.” I informed him, my hand twitched in his grip. I didn’t enjoy being the center of attention, even though I loved to dance. I could see freaking Rosamund commenting something to Catherine, it made my stomach twist.

“They are only looking at you.” He corrected me and I turned at him, my eyes wide in anxiety as I tried to maintain the rest of my facial expression as it was, casual. “Hey, they are looking at you because you look wonderful. And remember it is just us. You teaching me how to dance on the first ball we were allowed to attend.” He added calmly. It worked as I only had my complete attention to his lips and what he was telling me. I smiled. “There it is.” He smiled back.

We kept dancing smoothly to the music, it was indeed just me and him until I saw her… Grace Blackthorn. Soon in my optical space, I spotted my brother and tracking back to the beeline he left there was Cordelia left alone.

“Math…” I paused abruptly. “Go to her…” I spoke and gulped at the shock she felt. She was my age, I think, and she had never had the chance to attend such ball, hence she doesn’t know that this idiocy of my brother leaving her like that could turn to something scandalous.

“I can’t… I mean you-.” Math spoke and frowned.

“I wont be hearing the honey dripping from the crones for the first time, and I can handle it. You know it. It would be a shame for Cordelia…” I sighed looking at her. I was angry at James. I was to walk there as well when Aiden Bridgestock appeared in front of me.

Awesome!

[catofadifferentcolor]

Random Old Guard Thoughts (1/?): Movie Timeline

As I've often stated, loudly and repeatedly, I tend to hyperfixate on details very few other people would consider important. Case in point: What is the timeline of The Old Guard (2020)?

I don't mean the pre-canon timeline - what these characters were doing at any given point in the last thousand years, though that too is something I've given far too much thought to - but the actual timeline of the events of the movie.

Now, we can pretty safely say the events take place in early 2019, as:

In the scene outside the mine in Val d'Argent, Nile's phone gives the date as Sunday, April 21.

The Frank Ocean song "Godspeed" Nile listens to at Camp Leatherneck was released in 2016.

The years in which April 21 falls on Sunday after this song was released are: 2019, 2024, 2030, and 2047.

Presuming that the movie is set during the War in Afghanistan, which ended August 20, 2021, this leaves 2019 as the only possible year the movie could take place. (Or, since the war went on for nearly two decades and the Doha Accords were not signed until February 29, 2020, it could have been intended to be set in a possible near-future at filming, but that seems against the general historicity of the movie/comics.) This is also the year the movie was shot during, so it seems most likely.

Sunday, April 21, 2019 is coincidentally Easter, which seems like a good date to set events involving resurrection and immortality, as well as to sneak your unwilling human test subjects into your usually bustling pharmaceutical company headquarters. (Though why you'd carry out your morally dubious research in your HQ is another matter.)

Seems simple enough. However, the incident in South Sudan takes place during a full moon - there's a nice lingering shot of it early in the movie, so it's not just some stage light shining through a window - and the last full moon before Easter 2019 is Friday, April 19. (Good Friday, coincidentally.)

We do have a bit of wiggle room. The moon rising at 6:19 pm in Juba on the night of Thursday, April 18 probably looked close enough to full to count. The one rising at 5:25 pm on Wednesday, April 17 might've too. But the question remains: even if we push the rescue operation back to the night of April 17-18, is it even possible for someone moving covertly to get from a contested war zone in Central Africa to another in Central Asia in time to make it to Northern France the next night?

Because the way I see it:

Sunday, April 21 is the hard date. Andy, Nile, and Booker leave Val d'Argent around sunrise on this day (6:31 am) and drive to Copely's house in Surrey. Google tells me this is a 774 km drive, which should take 8:45 hours. There must have been some sort of border check regardless of whatever passports were used as the UK never was part of the Schengen Area - and possibly a stop for weapons after. (Even if we shave off a few hours speeding on empty holiday roads, London sunset was 8:06 pm that day and there's nothing to imply Nile and Copley waited overnight to stage their rescue. Andy and Booker can't have been in the labs longer than four hours.)

Andy, Booker, and Nile leave Goussainville at night. If they took the most direct route to Val d'Argent (and I don't see why they would), that is a 465 km drive, which should take 5 hours. They arrive at the cave in daylight - between 7 am and 9 pm that time of year - and Andy leaves again for the town at dark. This tells me their arrival in Val d'Argent is sometime Saturday, April 20.

It is night when the guard are attacked in Goussainville. This is likely the morning of Saturday, April 20, but can be any time between sunset (8:50 pm) the day before and sunrise (6:54 am) that morning.

Andy and Nile are shown arriving at Goussainville in daylight. This could, theoretically, be any number of days before the attack, but given the clothes it's probably Friday, April 19. Also, unless we dream each other isn't an every night thing, Nile would probably have gotten Quỳnh's story earlier if it wasn't.

It is daylight on a train in Central Africa when Andy, Booker, Joe, and Nicky first dream of Nile. This could, theoretically, be any number of days after the mission in South Sudan, but I get the feeling it's meant to be the morning after - which, accounting for the moon, would be Thursday, April 18.

Is it physically possible to travel from South Sudan to Afghanistan to France in, at maximum, 39 hours? Probably. If you managed direct flights it would be something like 15 hours total plus a couple hours driving. But can it actually be done? Can you jump off a train in the middle of nowhere, find a single woman on a military base in another country with nothing but a picture and half a name, and get yourself and your companion to another continent in what's realistically more like 30 hours? All while keeping out of sight of an ex-CIA operative and, presumably, the US military?

I don't know. It sounds like the start of a Top Gear special - and initially I was going to argue that it couldn't be done. I was going to argue that the South Sudan mission had to occur during the March 20 full moon for the timing to work... but maybe not. Maybe it can be done. I'd love to know.

Which, I suppose, is a long way to travel to determine the date of Nile's first death: some time between sunrise in Central Africa and sunset in Central Asia on Thursday, April 18, 2019.

[healeroflightanddark]

Bonds of the Soul, Chapter 2: Separated

Yuya awoke in his bed, and immediately felt off. The daylight in his room looked as though it were in the evening, and he felt a bit empty. As though a part of him were missing. A big part.

A sense of dread and unease filled him, and he immediately tried to call out to his counterparts in his mind. But he didn’t hear a reply back. This wasn’t good. While Yuri and Yugo may occasionally be too busy arguing to reply, Yuto always responded immediately when Yuya called out to him. Which could only mean one thing.

“They’re gone!” Yuya whispered in horror, tears filling his eyes. He jumped out of bed and ran out of his room. “MOM! DAD! THEY’RE GONE!” he wailed as he jumped onto the firepole and slid down. “I CAN’T FIND THEM! THEY’RE GONE!”

“What’s gone?” Yoko asked from the kitchen.

“My counterparts! They’re gone!” Yuya wailed.

“They’re in the living room,” Yusho reassured him.

Yuya blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Then he turned to face the living room and saw Yuto, Yuri, and Yugo standing there. Yuya gasped and ran to them, tackling Yuto in a bear hug as he started sobbing in relief. “I woke up… and you guys were gone!”

“It’s ok, Yuya!” Yuto murmured, hugging him back. “We’re right here!”

“Can I get a hug, Yuya?~” Yuri purred. Yusho frowned at him from the kitchen doorway and crossed his arms.

Yuya ignored Yuri and hugged Yuto tighter. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, you hear me?”

“Ok,” Yuto said gently. He rubbed Yuya’s back and carefully guided him over to the sofa. Yuto sat down in the middle of the sofa and pulled Yuya into his lap. “It’s alright, we’re still with you.”

“Yeah, Yuri said this is only temporary,” Yugo said, plopping down next to Yuto and Yuya. Yuri elegantly lounged on the other side of them and smirked, “Yes, we can only be separated from you for a maximum of seventy-two hours at a time before we have to become one again to regain our energy.”

“So wait, then does that mean we can separate again afterwards?” Yuya asked curiously.

“Yes, that’s exactly what that means~” Yuri said, reaching out and pinching Yuya’s cheek. Yuya made a sound of discontent and batted his hand away. “You’re smarter than Yugo, I had to explain it twelve times before that moron understood!~”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you and Yuto inherited all of Zarc’s braincells!” Yugo yelled, balling his hands into fists. Yuya winced and covered his ears with his hands. Fortunately, the blunana noticed and lowered his voice. “Sorry, Yuya…”

“It’s fine, Yugo,” Yuya reassured him.

Yusho was still watching from the doorway. He didn’t like Yuya’s Fusion counterpart after everything he did. The XYZ counterpart seemed to be very protective of Yuya, and Yuya seemed to be very fond of him too, so as long as Yuto didn’t do anything to hurt him, Yusho felt he could approve of the edgy, eggplant-haired boy. The jury was still out on the Synchro counterpart though.

Yoko, of course, was already quite attached to all of Yuya’s counterparts. She was very excited to have a whole heap of adorable Yuyas in her house. After they had explained things to her and Yusho when they’d arrived on their doorstep with the unconscious tomato, Yoko had insisted on taking the three boys in. After all, they had nowhere else to go! And they were still technically part of Yuya! Yusho had agreed to take them in, but he was still keeping an eye on Yugo and Yuri. Especially Yuri.

“Well at least my headache’s gone,” Yuya said, resting his head on Yuto’s shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry about that, that was our fault,” Yuto apologized. “We were building up energy to defuse with you, and it was hurting you. Yuri says that it shouldn’t hurt you again though.”

“Yes, as amusing as your pain was, that was a one-time thing,” Yuri said, leaning back against the sofa lazily. “You won’t get a headache from us defusing again.”

“Good, cuz that wasn’t fun,” Yuya sighed.

“Dinner’s ready!” Yoko called out from the kitchen. Yuya’s face lit up happily, and he scrambled out of Yuto’s lap and raced into the dining room. Yuto, Yuri, and Yugo followed to find what appeared to be a full on feast on the dining table.

“Eat up, boys!” Yoko said, smiling at Yuya’s counterparts as they sat down. Yuya was already devouring his food. He loved to eat. And as someone who was very active physically, he needed a lot of food. Yuya took gymnastics classes, and burned more calories than most adults ate in a day, so his mother usually cooked a lot of food for him to stay healthy. Yusho sometimes joked that if it weren’t for the money that his duel school made, Yuya would have eaten them out of house and home years ago.

Yuto, Yuri, and Yugo on the other hand weren’t used to eating as much as Yuya ate. They ate as much as they could, but they couldn’t finish all the food Yoko served them. Fortunately Yuya was more than capable of eating everything they couldn’t. Yoko took notice of the counterparts’ smaller appetites, and made a mental note not to make so much for them. It would not do for them to get tummy aches from eating too much, nor for Yuya to overeat trying to make sure their food didn’t go to waste.

As the boys finished their food, Yuri felt something bump against his leg. He looked down, then gasped. “Puppy?”

A tiny shiba inu puppy was sniffing Yuri’s leg. Yuya looked down at it and blinked. “Well this is a new one! When did you adopt her, Mom?”

“While you were at school!” Yoko said brightly. “Isn’t she just adorable?”

“Does she have a name?” Yuri asked. Yoko shook her head. “Not yet.”

Yuri got up and picked the puppy up. “I will name you Yuugou!” he said, cuddling the puppy. Yugo rolled his eyes, but the puppy seemed to like the name and licked Yuri’s face. Yuri laughed a little and carried Yuugou to the living room to play.

Yuya helped his mother with the dinner dishes, and Yuto and Yugo did too, hoping to leave a good impression on Yoko and Yusho. It did seem to work, as the parents were both smiling.

After the dishes were done, Yuya, Yuto, and Yugo went back to the living room. Yuri was still playing with Yuugou, and seemed to be genuinely happy for once.

“Who’s a good girl?” he cooed at the puppy. The puppy yipped and licked his face. As bad and cruel as Yuri had been in the past, Yuya couldn’t help being happy that he was happy. He actually looked rather sweet playing with Yuugou. Yuya watched his Fusion counterpart from Yuto’s lap on the couch for a while, before he was suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion. All four of the counterparts yawned in unison, feeling sleepy all at once. Yuya closed his eyes for just a moment…

*   *   *

Yoko walked into the living room thirty minutes later, to find the most adorable sight. Waving her husband over quietly, she pointed. There on the couch were Yuya, Yuto, Yugo, and Yuri, all sleeping. Yuto was cuddling Yuya, who was still in his lap snuggling against his chest. Yuri was to the right of them, his head on Yuto’s shoulder. Yugo was to the left, sitting a bit sideways with his back against Yuto’s side. All four of them were snoring softly.

“Let’s let them sleep,” Yusho said softly. Yoko nodded, managing to resist the urge to coo over the adorable boys.