#like the twins actually accomplished something

[maryse127]

Kain: Everyone chooses death too hastily

Me: Yeah wtf is up with people in this game

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What good luck is coming your way?⋆｡.°•✩

‘I’m so lucky

I’m a star

But I cry, cry, cry in my lonely heart, thinkin’

“If there’s nothin’ missin’ in my life

Then why do these tears come at night?”’

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Potential Breakup Song by Aly & AJ

Best Friend’s Brother by Victoria Justice

(There’s Gotta Be) More To Life by Stacie Orrico

Discipline, Courage, Freedom, Communication, Twin Flame, Talking, Family, Plan A Vacation, Two of Air (Equilibrium), Daughter of Air, & Nine of Cups

The good luck that’s coming to your life, pile 1, is balance, confidence, and stability. Some of you could have Libra or Taurus placements. You could have had a rocky upbringing in life but it didn’t stop you from becoming the individual you are today. You could be a very loving person and have a lot to give to others. You may dim yourself down and feel that you are not all that special and often put others on a pedestal, whether that’s a family member, friend, celebrity, or partner. You need to see what’s special inside of you. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, dear. Some of you could have a very close relationship with your parents or grandparents. I’m having a vision of a little kid running to their guardian for comfort and receiving hugs. This is a message for some of you - you guys should visit your old childhood home for abundance or need to call your parents and rekindle the relationship you had with them, they miss you very much. If you have inner child wounds from your family, you need to resolve them in order to make progress. Don’t get stuck in this current phase of your life, you need to embrace change and new beginnings. I’m seeing that there is an intense connection with a romantic interest. Some of you might be in a stagnant relationship that is not benefiting you and it is hindering your growth, I think it would be best if stay single for a while. You are growing up and you are changing, that is a good thing! Some of you have a crush on someone and you are wishing to express your feelings, I see that if you talk to this person, things could actually go very well! Although, you must focus on making yourself happy first before seeking this person. Again, you need to focus on self love first. When is the last time you did something for yourself, pile 1? Make the choice today to be the hero you always needed. Be brave, pile 1. Some of you as a child might of loved the movie Starstruck and Princess Protection Program. You should watch these films to hear the messages in them, they might give you guidance. A father figure in your life may also provide clarity for what you have been feeling. Try to reflect on the relationship you had with your parents and how that results in your relationships with others. A lesson is needed to be learned at that time, once it is completed, you will notice a drastic transformation in your friendships and romantic life. You are going to be secure with who you are as a person and won’t feel the need for others to complete a part of yourself that was feeling empty. Additionally, some of you are wishing to make a bold move. Are you wishing to travel? Take a vacation? A trip to a place you always wanted to go? Now is a good time to do so. Crossroads could be an important film and may resonate with your situation.

Affirmations:

“I can accomplish what I set my mind to”

“I find the inner strength to face fear with confidence”

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Superstar by Jamelia

Love Don’t Cost A Thing by Jennifer Lopez

Whatever You Like by T.I

Loneliness, Love, Money, Courting, Cassette, Love Call, The Star, Ten of Water (Repletion), & Mother of Water

Your good luck charm, pile 2, is the charm of love, fortune, and gifts. There is someone who wishes to come into your life and spoil you. I feel that you are independent and successful in your endeavors. You are good with your finances and you may look high maintenance in appearance (you may own luxury, brand name items, or your style is just very prissy n pretty). You have an admirer that really appreciates how you carry yourself as an individual and has great respect for your accomplishments. I’m reminded of the lyrics from the song She Got Her Own by Ne-Yo ft Jamie Foxx & Fabolous:

“Knowin’ she can do for herself

Makes me wanna give her my wealth”

When this person approaches you, you will look at them like they’re crazy. You might even be offended when they offer you help or try to do chivalrous things. Do not block your blessing, this person can give you access to bigger career opportunities. You have to release your outdated beliefs. I understand you are trying to protect your heart and peace of mind, but how can you make progress in your desired career field without connections? Your spirit guides know you have expensive taste and that you won’t be the only one capable of funding that lifestyle. I’m getting Nara Smith and Lucky Blue Smith vibes. They are both working individuals but Lucky spoils Nara with gifts like designer bags and luxurious items. You give off WAG and video vixen vibes, pile 2. Your beauty is reminiscent of Meagan Good, Christina Milian, Lee Hyori, & Vanessa Bryant in the early 2000s. You could have received a lot of envy from others growing up and was always in the center of gossip. People’s consistent haterade being thrown at you has made you isolate yourself, you were never lonely because you had to be your own best friend. Some of the people who picked this pile were bullied growing up or had a hard time making friends. You are strong and confident but constantly having your guard up out of fear of being hurt is making you miss out on life. Princess and The Frog may be a very significant film that you need to watch. Tiana was hard working and had dreams of opening a restaurant so much that it made her miss out on having fun and spending time with other people, as well as using work as a coping mechanism to cope with her father’s death. It becomes unhealthy when you have the assumption that most people are inherently evil and focusing all your attention on work, allow yourself to make connections with others and have fun every once in a while. It won’t kill ya to take a break, money isn’t the source of all happiness. Changing your mindset would attract more positive interactions within the workplace, college, and in your interpersonal relationships. You know you have great qualities so try to showcase this when having a conversation. Also smile! You have cute facial expressions when you’re not making a RBF lol. You may have a hustler mindset because of being poor as a child but this does not reflect your current reality, pile 2. Some of you may also be pursuing an education, taking courses regarding your culture could provide you with some insight. Turn to your ancestors for strength and wisdom on making the right choices regarding love. You are divinely protected either way so misfortune is not at all in your destiny!

Affirmations:

“I know that I am never alone”

“I commit to the practice of seeing good in all things”

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Stereo Love by Edward Maya ft. Vika Jigulina

Electric Feel by MGMT

Who Said by Miley Cyrus

Judgment, Pride, Past Life, Ice King, Karmic Relationship, The Snake, Five of Air (Conflict), Four of Fire (Perfection), & Mother of Air

Pile 3, with the lucky girl syndrome~ I see that you will be releasing yourself from other people's expectations and instead will pursue your desires. You could have grew up in a strict household and had family members who believed that being successful, wealthy, and having good grades was more important that self expression and being "happy". Financial security was prioritized over emotions and this had left your heart cold. You could be someone who has a hard time expressing their feelings and can be quite feisty when engaging in conversations. I see that you have always wanted to be more of the rebellious one or had to be rebellious in secret. The Bratz movie could be very significant to this pile, you might relate to one of the girls or one of the Bratz is your favorite doll (Jade, Sasha, Yasmin, or Cloe). I also see The Game Plan and Herbie - Fully Loaded for some of you were your comfort movies as a child. Growing up, you might of changed your clothes after your parents dropped you off at school or got dress coded often by your teachers/principal. You could have felt insecure as a child for not being able to dress like the other kids or not being allowed to wear a makeup. You have the power, pile 3. You are no longer this child anymore, this might hurt knowing you never got to experience the same emotional fulfillment other teens/adults did as children, but the good news is you have so much time to make up for it now! Take the initiative today and write down all things you never got to do but always wanted to have and start making a list of methods you could use to make this possible. As long as you put the effort in, anything could happen! I also feel that you compete with those of the same sex. You could come across people that are catty and try to put you down for no reason. You might also have these traits yourself and you need to reflect on how you treat other people, having opinions is normal but being judgemental and making assumptions about others before giving them a chance, is not. You have to acknowledge your flaws and the triggers you have been avoiding. For example, if you know that you easily get pissed off because you grew up in a household where arguing was normalized, realize that behavior isn't healthy. Overall, the good luck that you will be receiving is in regards to your independence and self expression. Additionally, I see you perfecting your craft. Some of you enjoy fashion, science, graphic design, and/or mathematics, you could receive an award or some sort of acknowledgement for your creative ideas!

Affirmations:

"I understand that everyone has their own unique path and challenges"

"I love myself, and I see myself in everyone"

Thanks so much for reading and I wish you the best of luck with whatever makes you happy in life 🍀

[leo-artista]

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

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

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

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

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

Now to Stanley:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Of broken heart and broken bones

Warning ⚠️; jealousy, cursing, old men fighting, old men yaoi, old men crying, Gravity Falls spoilers

Pairing; past Stanford/Male!Reader & present Stanley/Male!Reader

Summary; Stanley somehow got his brother back, but you didn't expect to face your ex ever again. Now Stanford had awkward realization that you are dating his twin who is pretending to be him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frozen in shock, you still couldn’t believe your eyes. It had been thirty years and yet, Ford almost didn't change besides his hair becoming gray. Same glasses and spark in his eyes.

You hadn't missed him.

Fury burned your blood when Ford punched Stanley in the face, his attention all on his twin as he didn't notice neither you nor the kids. Snarling, you rushed toward Ford who finally saw you. The same surprise as yours painted his face before you grabbed him by the collar, raising your knee to hit him in the nuts. A painful gasp left his mouth and you let go of him, watching Ford fall on the ground.

- “Holy molly! Old men fighting!” Mabel gasped and you almost laughed.

You would have if the situation wasn’t so bad.

- “How fucking dare you? Stan passed thirty years trying to bring your sorry ass back and that how thank him? By punching him in the face, you bastard!” you shouted before you pointed your trembling index toward Ford. “No wonder I left you. You've always been such an asshole.”

You heard the kids gasp but ignored them. Instead, you turned around and walked up to Stan, cupping his face in your hands while examining his jaw. A bruise was already forming, dark and you could count Ford’s knuckles. Your ex hadn't been gentle and thank God for Stanley's toughness.

You brushed the bruise with your thumb, frowning. Stanley took your wrists in his hands, his own thumbs making circles on your skin trying to comfort you. You smiled and Stanley did the same.

- “Don’t ya worry for me, darling. It'll take more than a single punch to take that old man down.” Stanley said, voice softer than usual.

- “I know, I know. I just hate seeing you hurt.” You whispered and Stanley kissed your hands.

There was a moment of silence, heavy and uncomfortable, while you still took in the situation. So much has happened in so little time, your emotions were all over the place. Ford wasn't helping.

He slowly got up, his right hand still holding his bruised balls. He looked at you then at his twin, realization filling his eyes before between replaced by anger.

- “You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. My own brother? My twin?” He asked, almost spitting the last word.

You felt Stanley flinch and a new wave of anger hit you. You turned your head, facing Ford. He looked at you as if you had betrayed him when he was the one who had caused the wedge between the two of you. Ford had been distant, keeping you at arm's length and always making you feel stupid. Not a single time during your relationship did you feel like he actually loved you.

Ford never told you he loved you.

- “You are in no place to talk. At least Stan had been making me feel loved and never once made me feel stupid.” You said, Stan squeezing your hands. “He never put anything before me, unlike you ignoring me all the time.”

- “Wait a second, what is going on here?” Dipper asked, approaching and putting himself between you and Ford. “Who are you?”

Ford and Dipper shared a look as Stan introduced Ford as the author of the journals. Those damn things that had become an obsession for Stan, were his best and only way to bring Ford back. God you wished Dipper had never found it. Maybe, just maybe, this situation wouldn't be happening.

But Ford was back, something Stan had tried to archive for thirty years. A lifetime of work and he did it. You were proud of your man, of all he had accomplished during those years. You couldn't be mad at Ford for being back, he hadn't asked for what had happened to him.

You took the kids back upstairs, Stan and Ford following behind you. Thankfully they kept quiet until you and the twins were out of earshot, even if you could still hear their muffled voices. Back in their rooms, Mabel and Dipper sat on their bed, staring at you and you sat too, on a chair.

With a deep sigh, you explained everything to the kids. About your short relationship with Ford, how he had worked and studied the weird events in Gravity Falls, about his obsession with them. They were old enough to understand how you weren't happy with Ford and why you left a loveless relationship.

But you came back. Not because you missed him, but because you had learned of Stanley’s death. To your surprise, he wasn't but was impersonating his brother. That point had been harder to explain, but Dipper had caught on quickly; by facking his death and becoming Ford, it was the only way for Stan to try and bring back his twin.

True.

And you helped. Weeks became months and you slowly fell in love with Stanley and his personality. He was more outgoing, and extrovert and didn't make you feel dumb. Quite the contrary as he praised your brain over his. Of course, the time periods played against you and you parted ways.

Stanley married and divorced while you stayed single, never truly finding love again. It wasn't until years later that Gravity Falls called you once more and this time you stayed for good. Not only in town but by Stan’s side too. The day you came back, Stan came to find you with your favourite food and movies, asking for a night with you.

The ambers of your love had never gone cold and that night only started the fire once more. You never left Gravity Falls or Stan after that. You two never married, not because you didn't want to, but because of Ford. You didn't want to marry Stanley while he impersonated his twin.

You heard commotions coming from downstairs and sighed, knowing Stan and Ford definitely were at each other throats. Well, Ford was and Stan might have been defending himself. You left the kids in their room and went down. You frowned hearing Ford’s calm but cold tone as he spoke to Stanley. You gritted your teeth and took a deep breath before entering the living room.

- “I’m giving you until the end of summer, then I want you out.” Ford said, index pointing at his twin’s chest.

- “You are the one that getting out at the end of summer, Ford.” You replied, voice as cold as his. “The shack isn't yours anymore, I bought it fifteen years ago when things went south.”

You crossed your arms, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe. Both men stared at you, a different expression on their faces. Stanley with relieve and Ford with surprise and a bit of anger.

- “What?” Ford asked and you rolled your eyes. “What do you mean?”

- “Do you think the economy stayed the same when you disappeared? The world kept turning, Ford, and so did the economy. Gravity Falls is a tourist town, without tourists there is no money and that is what happened. Thank God I had some savings or you'll still be wherever you were.” You explained, watching Ford walk up to you.

Stanley tried to approach but a simple look from you kept him in place. You weren't scared of Ford, never were, and knew if he tried anything it would be a 2 versus 1 kind of fight.

Ford pointed his finger at you, opened his mouth and closed it before closing his hand. For a second you thought he would try to punch you, but no. You saw his shoulders drop and he looked away. You didn't move, didn't react and kept staring at him.

- “Really? Kicking me out of my own house?” He asked, voice calmer.

- “Stanley’s been living here longer and you were kicking him out, even after he just brought your ass back. Why shouldn't I?” You asked back and Ford said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

Silence filled the room, neither of you speaking anymore. The reunion wasn't going the way you thought. You had hoped Ford would have been happy to see Stanley, or at least to be back. But no. He seemed angry, almost bitter and you didn't know what to think about that.

Tilting your head, you shared a new look with Stanley. Your man had wrapped his arms around himself, like a hug, searching comfort. It hurt to see him like that, especially since Ford was the reason. But it was his eyes that spoke the most; pleading. But for what?

Stanley’s eyes moved from Ford to you then back to Ford, leaving you with more questions. You frowned slightly, trying to convert your questions and Stanley just sighed and looked away. And you understood.

The exchange only lasted seconds, but you were use to communicate like that.

You sighed and shook your head, not believing the things you were ready to do for that man.

- “Listen Ford. If you stop treating Stanley like shit you can stay. We kept your lab functioning so you can stay there if you want. Just tell me the food you'd like me to buy.” You rolled your eyes when Ford’s head turned back to you. “Hey, I’m not heartless. I’m just asking you to be kind to Stan, I won't tolerate you disrespecting him in our own house.”

- “I understand.” Ford replied, his gaze softening, almost getting sad. “So you really got with Stanley, didn't you?”

- “What can I say, Ford? It happened by accident, but I am happy. We are both happy.”

To that, Ford was once again out of words. It was unusual for him to be so quiet, but you knew everything might feel like a slap on his face. So much had happened since he fell through that portal and you weren't giving him time to breathe and take it in before throwing another ball at him. But you knew Ford could take it.

Nothing could hurt or break him, it was as if Ford was made of stone.

But you were wrong.

You saw tears in his eyes before he excused himself. Without a word, he went back to his lab. You sighed, hidding your face in one hand before two strong arms wrapped around you. You melted in Stan’s embrace, resting your head under his chin while he patted your back, whispering loving words in your ears.

You felt tears in your own eyes but swallowed them back. It wasn't time for that, not now, not ever again. Why weren't you over it? It had been over thirty years since you and Ford had been over and you had found peace and happiness with Stan. So why now?

Maybe because you never got closure, you realized. You had left, cursing and shouting and Ford had said nothing and you thought he didn't care. But maybe you were wrong.

Maybe he did care, but never showed it.

Drying your eyes, you looked up and Stan smiled at you, he rested his head against yours, taking your chin between his finger and thumb. And you felt safe. You felt safe and you knew everything was going to be fine.

- “Thanks buttercup, I know I can always count on ya to have my back. But ya don’t need to go to war with ma brother, ya know? He’s going to get around it, always do.” Stan said, voice low as his thumb caressed your chin.

You nodded and closed your eyes for a second before you heard giggling and hushing. Opening your eyes, you turned your head to see Mabel and Dipper picking from the corner of the stairs. You smiled at them weakly, resting your hands on Stan’s chest.

- “Everything’s fine kids, don't worry.” You said, your voice wavering a bit.

- “You sure Grunkle Y/N?” Mabel asked, her head tilting. “You look sad.”

- “I am… I am kid, but it's going to be okay. Today is… heavy for me.” You looked at Stan and he nodded, already knowing what you had in mind.

- “Alright kids, leave Y/N alone for now. He needs to have a private discussion with ma brother. Who wants waffle fries?” He asked, putting his hands on his hips.

- “But Grunkle Stan, we don't have waffle fries.” Dipper pointed out before Stan out his hands on his and Mabel’s shoulders, pushing them away.

- “That's why I’m taking y'all out to buy some!”

You watched them leave, arms wrapped around you, seeking some comfort before facing Ford once more. You leaned against the doorframe once more, bracing yourself for what was to come. Would you get closure or a fight? You hopped you wouldn't have to throw hands, or anything, at Ford, but with the genius it was hard to know.

After a few minutes of collecting yourself, and once you were sure Stan had left with the kids, you went down to the Lab. As much as you hated the damn place, it was so much Ford it almost hurt. Maybe it was why you hated it so much.

You found your ex sitting on a chair, his coat discarded on the ground. You didn't hear it, but you knew he was crying. His shoulders shook and his face was hidden in his hands. The sight made you sad, sadder than you already were. You didn't know Ford had it in him to cry.

Grabbing a spare chair, you walked up to him. Ford said nothing as you say next to him. You stayed silent and so did Ford. It was awkward at best, painful at worst and you didn't know how to make it better. Closing your eyes, you sighed and looked away.

- “I’m sorry for hitting you in the balls, Ford… and that you found out about me and Stan like that.” You mumbled, shaking your head. “And I’m sorry. I've been a dick today, you didn't deserve it.”

- “I did.” Ford whispered, followed by a hiccup as he dried his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I did. I was the asshole.”

You didn't reply, because yeah, he had been. But so were you. You turned your head and looked at Ford. Really looked at him. He wasn't the same, you were wrong about that. He was older, wrinkles had found their way into the corner of his eyes and mouth but so did scars. Little ones were almost invisible by his old and pale they were. It was the same with his hands.

Slowly, like with a wounded animal, you took one of his hands in yours, your thumb brushing over the six knuckles. Ford said nothing, allowing you to do as you pleased.

His hand was still rough and callous like before, but they were older like the rest of Ford’s body. Burn spots had appeared because of his age, and maybe whatever sun he had been under.

You sighed, again, and squeezed his hand.

- “I am sorry.” You repeated like a broken disc. “Fuck, I really was an ass back then and even now.”

- “I deserved…” Ford began, but you shook your head.

- “No, you didn't. You might have been the shittier boyfriend I had, but I should just have broken up with you like a normal human being.” You told him, your eyes staring at his hand.

- “And I shouldn't have taken you for granted. I… am sorry I was so cold and distant, I never realized how bad I was toward you.” Ford admitted, squeezing your hand back. “You deserved better, but I never imagined you'd find that in Stanley.”

- “You should give him a chance, really give him a chance. Stan teacher himself all that crap for you.” You said, waving your hand around. “I barely did anything here, it was all him. Because he loves you, because he felt guilty and wanted you back.”

Again, silence followed.

But this time it wasn't heavy or awkward. You didn't need to look at Ford to know he was thinking about it. After three decades, could he really still be mad at his brother after everything Stan did to get him back? Even you softened toward Ford, so why couldn't he toward his own brother?

Ford’s thumb drew a small circle on your hand and from the corner of your eye, you saw him nod. You did the same.

- “I guess I owe him as much apology as I owe you.” He said, voice so low you barely heard him.

- “Yeah…” Was your only reply.

You tensed for a second when Ford rested his chin against your shoulder but relaxed. There was nothing there, but you weren't used to him being tactile. It was strange, but welcome. You rested your chin on his head, his hair tickling your nose and you almost smiled. It felt good. Like finding something you had lost so long ago.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you knew Ford was the same when he buried his face in your shoulder. Your ex squeezed your hand almost painfully as silent sobs shook his shoulders. You closed your eyes, wrapping your free hand around yours.

This… this was closure and it hurt more than you thought.

All the what-ifs filled your mind. What if Ford had been kinder, what if he hadn't been so obsessed with his research? What if you two had been healthier and sat to talk?

So many things would have been different. Maybe Ford would have never fallen through the portal. Maybe you'll still be together or not.

You wrapped your arms around him when Ford wrapped his around your waist, whispering “sorry” over and over, his voice muffled by your shirt. It broke your heart knowing he actually felt remorse for how he threatened you. For still loving you when you had found happiness with his twin.

You kept embracing him even when the tears had stopped falling, nose buried in his hair. A part of you feared he would fall back into the portal if you let go of him, even if the said portal was closed. While you had no feelings for him anymore, you couldn't deny you still cared for him. Maybe not as a lover anymore, but as a friend… as a brother-in-law.

He was family, and would always be now.

You stayed a long moment in each other arms, not seeing or feeling time pass. You even almost fell asleep until Ford moved and you two detached. You didn't feel empty but at peace. Silently, you led Ford up, knowing Stan must be back with the kids.

You found them sitting in front of the TV eating their waffle fries while watching one of Stan’s shows. Stan smiled and moved his plate so you could sit next to him on the armchair. Ford walked and sat on the place the kids had gotten him.

You knew you two were a mess and it was obvious you had cried, but no one said a word. Stan wrapped an arm around you, keeping you against him. You relaxed, nuzzling yourself against him before stealing a few of his waffle fries.

Dipper was the first one to break the silence, offering some of his to Ford. Your ex took them and the heaviness in the room dissipated. After that, the twins soon began asking question after question to Ford. Mabel weirder one while Dipper focused on the weird shit happening in Gravity Falls and things he had seen in the journal.

You smiled seeing Ford relax and answer every single one of them.

You shared a look with Stan who smiled at you. He kissed your forehead whispering how everything was going to be fine and you believed him. For once you knew he was serious and were happy.

After thirty years and with the kids here, your home felt completed. It actually felt like a real home. Maybe it was the kids, maybe it was Ford but in reality, it was a mix of everything and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[fxtalitygod]

X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

Love.

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

[cloudyskydreams]

S/O wearing their clothes! UT,UF,UF,HT

Thought this was a cute idea actually got inspired from the last request but decided to make it its own thing. Small little drabbles and two posts for the day I feel accomplished! As always hope y'all enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans:

The rare occasion his jacket is to get washed and you pull it out of the dirty laundry to wear it. It smells like pine and ketchup and you relax into the smell as you stand in your shared bedroom. A chuckle from behind you has you spinning around and you see and amused Sans staring at you through lidded eyes. "was wondering what the jacket was in here" he puns and you smile as he steps closer pulling you into him. "you look cute starlight, you should wear my clothes more"

Papyrus:

It was a brisk autumn day and the air outside was cold enough to make goosebumps rise in your skin. You had only brought a jacket to the outing with your bonefriend and were regretting not bringing mittens or a hat or something of the like. Papyrus noticing how cold you were took off his scarf and wrapped it around your neck, it's a large comfy scarf too. "HERE YOU ARE SWEET PEA DONT WANT YOU GETTING COLD." He thinks you look just perfect in his signature scarf and plans to make you one similar.

Underfell:

Red:

Red had taken his jacket off while working on your car and you being the grateful partner decided to give him a little show when he got back. Slipping on a pair of booty shorts you know he drools over you in and his jacket you pose on the couch and wait for him to come in. It takes a bit and you end up scrolling on your phone but his reaction is priceless. He drops he tool in his hand and his mouth is open in shock as he takes in sight of you. "fuck sweetheart you don't know what you do to me," he growls as he practically pounces on you.

Edge:

Edge had left his clothes on the bed while he hopped in the shower after a long day and you saw your opportunity to try on his prized cape. You chuckle and slip the thing around your neck before impersonating the loud skeleton. He of course finishes much quicker than you anticipated and can't even pretend to be mad when he sees you parading around pretending to be him in his cape. He knocks on the doorframe and smirks upon seeing you're shocked face. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING PET?" he questions a fire in his eyes as he steps closer to you and pulls you flush against him by his cape. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes as it's sort of a way for him to mark you as his. He also thinks you just look great in his clothes.

Underswap:

Blue:

You had stolen blues bandana and had decided to center your entire outfit around the little piece of cloth as a little surprise for him. You dressed up a little and put on the bandana before getting to work on breakfast. About ten minutes later a sleepy Blue exited the room half dressed and rubbing his eyes. "LOVE HAVE YOU SEEN MY— oh…" He takes in the sight of you before smirking. "ISN'T THIS A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES, DRESSED UP ALL FOR ME?" He waltzs over and kisses you while adjusting the bandana. He really enjoys the look and might ask to twin with you in the future.

Stretch:

Stretch had simply switched out what hoodie he had worn that day and you had snatched his signature orange one when you had the chance. "aww honey don't you look cute," He snaps a picture upon seeing you and chuckles as he sends it to Blue ranting about how cute his s/o is. He definetly leaves clothes out more often for you to find and wear. He might doodle you in his hoodie in his free time the image is stuck in his mind.

HorrorTale:

Axe:

He takes his jacket off occasionally and forgets where he puts it. Was actually coming to ask if you had seen it when he found you wear it, and lemme tell you it dwarfs you. Let's out a little "…oh" and his eyelights dilates to fill his whole socket as he stares at you for a few seconds. Thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and occasionally will simply take his jacket off and dump it on you because he enjoys your smell on it.

Willow:

His scarf is pretty torn and he wears it mostly out of sentimentality when he does. He has a new one but this one just holds so many memories he can't get rid of it even if alot of those memories are bad. You slip it on after finding it one day poking around the house, he finds you wearing it and he doesn't really react. "Hello Dearest I See You've Found My Old Scarf," He ruffles your hair and tells you the story of how he first got the scarf. Gently folds it and puts it up when you're done wearing it. He's happy to let you wear his other clothes too and as he's a giant they're all pretty huge on you and he thinks that's cute.

[anyplaceisparadise]

Alright I've been thinking a lot about Caracalla and this scene in particular, immediately after he slashes Geta's hand. Look at that satisfied little smirk. And it got me thinking, that this was the first time Cara actually really did anything for himself throughout the whole film.

This got away from me so I'm putting it under a cut:

The first time we see the twins is when Acacius returns to Rome. A general that has just conquered land in their name, a man that has actually fought battles and fought men, a man that has held a sword and actually used it to kill someone. And Cara and Geta are cosplaying in their gold armour. They don't actually go out and fight, it's done for them. No military accomplishments.

Later we see them at the party, where they're clearly waited on hand and foot, Cara is drunk, and their entertainment is a fight. Geta doesn't recognize the bit of poetry Lucius recites despite it being by Virgil, a famous Roman poet. Cara comments on being surprised by the poetry, so I think it's safe to say he didn't recognize it at first either. Rather than showing them to be uneducated, I think it's more likely that just neither of them tried very hard education wise. So, no accomplishments there also.

At the coliseum, we see that it's Geta that indicate mercy or no mercy, not Caracalla. We also see how excited the spectacle makes Caracalla, who giggles (cutely, if I may add). It's yet another instance of the enjoyment violence does indeed bring him, but just like at the party, he's only a spectator. He doesn't actually do anything.

He gets close to violent action himself when Acacius and Lucilla are confronted. In fact, Caracalla is in a rage, but he never actually gets to do anything because Geta holds him back. He also doesn't continue after Acacius and Lucilla leave, he calms down.

So it's this moment, when he finally actually gets to do something for himself that caught my eye. He smiles, he's pleased with himself, he's created something by himself, for himself. We know he's come close both in the film and otherwise when Geta tries to calm him down, but has clearly been thwarted in the past. Cara might enjoy watching violence, he might enjoy ordering violence, but this is the first time he's actually been the perpetrator himself.

But I don't think it's the violence in this moment that is necessarily what he's happy with. It's the act of doing something for himself. The idea of being able to make decisions when his whole life things have been taken care of for him. The act of creating something, even if it's pain, even if it's an injury to his own brother is pleasing and he just realized it.

And as a side note, I think this is also a testament to Fred's acting. He was fantastic and I think really understood the role he was given. Just a joy to watch.

[old-fandom]

HELLO! I HAVE AN ESTABLISHED TEEN STANCEST IDEA!

Idk what I would call this but basically, it's "Ford is part of a DD&MD group with a bunch of other asshole losers who basically use Ford for his basement and Stan is the stupid but hot twin brother that the guys all talk made shit about both sexually and bullying wise. Ford is pissed about it."

Basically, Ford is invited into a group at high school with a bunch of other outcast losers who decide to let Ford join because he has a basement they can use to play. They used the play at another guys house but their mom kicked them out after they broke one of her coffee tables wrestling over a dice roll. Ford, for the first time, finally has a group of guys that he could call his friends. These "friends" are assholes. They're comic book snobs and misogynistic white knights and anti-deodorant wearing teenager boys. Think incel but less "I want to kill women" and more "I am smarter than everyone here due to my impressive and ultra rare card binder and everyone else is a poser if you don't know this trivia fact!" But none the less, Ford is accepted into the fold. He's able to actually play the game, or at least, be DM, which he doesn't mind! In fact, he likes being in charge. He's still a little shy but he's slowly cracking out of his shell, being less cagey and more open with jabbing back at the others taunts and even being able to continue the flow of conversation effortlessly. He's able to be nerdly aggressive where his threats, his taunts, his nerdy accomplishments that aren't academic are recognized and envied over. It kind of works for the group and Ford is happy.

Except for one thing.

They all have a thing for Stanley.

And Ford hates that they have a thing for Stanley.

Stanley is perfectly happy with Ford having a friend group, especially one that lets him nerd out to the max. He usually doesn't bother them when they're over, either because he doesn't want to be around that much nerdiness or because the smell shuns him away. But this doesn't mean he hasn't gone down there before.

The first time he went down there, it was to tell Ford that Ma wanted him to take a look at the telephone before he went to bed. She thinks one of the wires is loose again and he might need to fix it. Ford says he will and Stan leaves. That's when the comments start up.

They start jaunting about his wit, asking Ford what it's like to have a dumb jock for a brother. Ford defends Stan, saying he's more than just a dumb jock. In fact, he's not really a jock at all, he just likes boxing. But it doesn't stop the conversation. They start sharing stories about Stans exploits around school, whether it be one of his infamous fights with the Cramplter gang or him being so atrociously stupid in class that the teacher walked out. It finally breaks off once someone rolls a Nat 20 and the campaign continues.

But it doesn't stop completely.

Every time Stanly comes down for something, either to tell Ford something, bring the group snacks that their Ma made for them (swiping one for himself), grabbing something for his Pa to sell, or really anything, the group always starts talking about Stanley. And it makes Ford blood boil. He'll defend him alright, and he'll make their campaign a fucking nightmare for everything they've said, but he's scared to really do something. This is the first friend group he's ever had and he doesn't wanna lose it, even though something in him tells him that he'd be better off without them talking shit about Stanley every time he comes down.

Then the faithful day happens when Stan comes down after a shower, no shirt on, hair wet, wearing a part of dolphin shorts as it's the middle of summer. He's down there grabbing a drink from Ford's DD&MD group snack tray. They took the last of the Pit Cola and he'd be damned if he didn't get one. So he does and leaves without really saying anything, unaware of the eyes staring at him all the way.

Ford braces himself for the onslaught of his brother but nothing. The group continues the game like nothing happened. And Ford is excited because maybe they've finally gotten it together, seen that Stan really isn't just those things, he is so much more. He's kind hearted and compassionate, he's artistic and business smart, he's hands on and crafty, he's strong and hunky and good looking and so so sexy and - Ford has to shake his head. Now is not the time to get a boner.

Ford's Ma calls him in the middle of the game for something and he has to leave them for a second. When he comes back and over hears the group talking about Stan but it's not about how stupid he looks - it's about how slutty he is. He stops on the stairs and listens in.

He hears them make incredibly inappropriate remarks about his brother, about what he must look like on his knees, wishing that they put the drinks on the ground so he would have to bend all the way over in those shorts to get it, that if it weren't for his body, he'd be a waste of air. They joke about having sex with them, calling him slurs, doing things to him that Ford knows first hand Stan does not like to do. They talk about his chub, how they mock him for being fat, but hey, at least he has nice tits. They go on and on about it, unaware of the simmering Ford up the stairs. After hearing enough, Ford finally comes down, making them all unaware that he had been listening in on them for 10 minutes.

That session becomes the hardest, most brutal session, where Ford successfully kills all of their characters off. The guys get pissed at Ford, saying he did that shit on purpose, and Ford answers back that they're lucky it was only their characters he killed off and not the real people behind them, especially after those comments. They get into a fight, the guys saying that Ford shouldn't be wasting his time defending a stupid whore like Stanley, he'd only leave and hold back Ford. Ford finally snaps when one the guys mentions how easy it would be to get with Stanley, no matter what.

Ford ends up fist fighting the guys, beating the shit out of each other, breaking and ruining their game, destroying their papers and character sheets and models. His Pa ends up coming down stairs after hearing the commotion and kicks the guys out, telling them they aren't welcome back until they can pay for the broken table. They scramble and Ford is given a talking to about picking better people to hangout with and to clean up the mess.

Ford goes down stairs to find Stan already down there, going over the mess, still in his shorts and no shirt. Ford, still high on adrenaline, runs smack dab into Stanley, pushing him up against the wall and making out with him. Stan has no idea what spurred him on though he does have an inkling. He pushes Ford back just enough to ask him about the fight, seeing how Ford does have bruises on his knuckles.

Ford tells him it wasn't important, that they weren't all that much fun anyway, he'd rather spend his time with Stanley anyway. Stanley doesn't protest too much, and they end up having sex in the basement before cleaning up the mess.

Later that night, Ford does properly take Stan to bed, making love to him and showering him in praise and acceptance. Stan lets him.

He knew going down their in those shorts would cause a stir, he just didn't know it would go so far into his favor.

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — bull-rider!MATTHEW TKACHUK x barrel racer!hughes!reader (can be read as an unnamed oc) wc — 1.8k synopsis — wear the hat, ride the cowboy—even if it might get you disowned.

note — there's one line referring to the reader as jack's twin, but no physical description is given. also, this one-shot is a "party favor" from our feb slumber party

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — quinn being a dramatic, misogynistic douche-canoe 3000 for the entirety (ratty matty has his moments, too), no actual smut but it's heavily implied they do the dirty on the reg, a disgustingly intimate situationship — ick, off-color comment(s) relating to first times and the concept of virginity, lots and lots of familial angst (jack is a snake), oh! and more than a few loose ends... but you know the drill by now, i'm incapable of keeping a story contained

“Go on, Palomino Princess. Ride me like one of your ponies.” 

Condescension drips from the lazy taunt. Matthew earns a palm to the chest for it; her ire lands with a faint thud, but he doesn’t mind. He gets off on riling her up, and after two years of backseat meetings and hushed phone calls, he’s damn good at it too. That, and she might be the most reactive person he’s ever met—and that’s saying something. 

Matthew’s been going head-to-head with all three of her brothers for over a decade, and he’s known their family for even longer. Having a short fuse must be genetic.    

“Y’won’t break me if that’s the hold-up. S’gonna take a hell of a lot more than a dry humpin’ buckle bunny to put me outta commission, sweetheart.” 

He knows damn well she ain’t anywhere close to the derogatory term, but he likes what the complete disregard for her accomplishments does to her deceptively cherubic face. 

It may look less harrowing than every other event on the card, but barrel racing ain’t for the faint-hearted. The event is a death wish personified, and it feels about as good as someone taking a metal pipe to both shins. It takes balls—metaphorically, in her case—to charge into an arena on an American Quarter horse with the intention of guiding it through a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels while sprinting at top speed, but it takes dedication and skill to succeed the way she has. The winner is determined by just thousandths of a second. 

The woman perched on his tailgate is unmatched—undefeated.  

Flames of pride lap at his loins, the fire of desire stoked by the wicked roll of her hips. 

“Ohh—shit!” Matthew hisses, his head lolling back as his hips buck into her heat. 

She smirks, apparently vindictive as ever. “How’s that, cowboy? Everything you dreamed?” 

“And more,” he growls as he grabs a fistful of her backside. 

His grip is tighter than it needs to be as he switches positions. Not nearly as rough as she would prefer it; beggars can’t be choosers.  

Matthew steps between her knees, and, despite herself, she shivers with anticipation. Chuckling, amusement twinkles in his baby blues. “Now give me a kiss, sweetheart. My lips are feelin’ a little lonely tonight, and you happen to be wearin’ my hat, Little Miss.” 

He flicks the brim of his hat. She catches it before it hits the ground before plopping it back on the rightful owner, the damage already done.  

“You just love that antiquated rule,” she shakes her head while most definitely laughing at his expense. “Y’wouldn’t see any action without it, now would you?” 

Matthew grins. Trading insults is his favorite form of foreplay. “Neither would you. Isn’t that your signature move, outlaw?”

“I should kick you to the back of the line with that attitude. Hell, I’d probably be better off keeping you at a distance anyway.” 

“Keep mouthin’ off and see how far it gets ya. Definitely nowhere near that McMansion castle you call home, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout me, sugar. I’ve got plenty of options if I need a ride home.” 

“I’ll bet, show pony. Sexiest can chaser east of the Mississippi; who wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to carry Cinderella home to her Daddy?” 

Men have a habit of gawking at her; Matthew has a habit of relieving them of their teeth. 

He leans in to taunt her ear with greedy lips and barbed arrogance. “Best of luck finding one that’ll fuck you better than me.”     

“Do you think about other guys fucking me often?” she fires without missing a beat.

More than he would like, actually.

With a heavy, drawn-out sigh, he runs a hand over his face. His patience is running thin, and his jeans are starting to chafe. Exasperated, he tries coaxing her to reason, “Sweetheart, c’mon. We both know you want this—want me. Stop makin’ this so damn hard.” 

“Why? Because you already are?” 

Matthew makes an exaggerated show of play-biting her scrunched-up nose. 

“Woman, you drive me insane.”

“It’s why you’re so obses—“ 

Her teasing is thwarted by the sound of her own name. Spat out of her older brother’s mouth like a heirloom gone sour, it's no great surprise Quinn looks at her like he can’t recognize her. Like a stranger—like a traitor. 

Guilt, thin and fleeting, pieces the tenderness between her ribs. 

She squirms, attempting to put some distance between them as if that could erase the discovery—and her culpability—from his mind. Matthew and his shit-eating grin keep her from getting too far but don’t be fooled. This is no chivalrous encouragement to stand her ground. It’s got nothing to do with her and everything to do with her brother. 

Quinn rages outside the hauler housing Matthew’s precious 3500 Laramie. Walking by, seeing the main trailer hitched Brady’s F-350 made his stomach churn. It didn’t sit right, and now he knew why. 

“You can’t be serious! Nuh-uh, no—no fucking way. Get out here before I drag you out myself.”  

At his tone, what little remorse she felt dissipates. They were both far too old for his tired, overbearing song-and-dance. 

“Who died and made you king?” 

Quinn, blinded by overripe anger, sweeps over the irritation, twisting her tongue and the disbelief arching her brow. “I thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

“Oh, crystal, Quinny.” Matthew snorts at the juvenile nickname but is swiftly cajoled into silence with a pinch to the side. “Message received.” 

“Then quit screwin’ around and get your ass back to the truck before Dad blows a gasket. He’s been lookin’ all over for you. So, you best be thanking your lucky stars I got here first. That its me catchin’ you red-handed colluding with the enemy.” 

He’s so serious, nearly shaking with rage, it’s difficult not to laugh. She can count on one hand the instances wherein her brother became visibly angry—all of them involving the man standing between her dangling feet. She fares better than him, but that’s to be expected. Unlike her accomplice, for her, there’s real risk involved. 

“Just ‘cause I heard you don’t mean I have to listen.” 

Lips pressed to her temple, Matthew clicks his tongue in approval. ‘Bout damn time she started giving back what Quinn so readily dishes out. 

“Look, y’can spread your legs for anyone with big dreams and a buckle some other night. Parade around the circuit acting like a slut, see if I give a shit. But not tonight. And not with him.” 

The knowing glint in Quinn’s blackened eyes is telling, but it isn’t as menacing as he thinks it is. The Hughes heir apparent couldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner. He doesn’t have a lick of proof. Just suspicion and a personal vendetta the size of Texas. 

A safety net swaying below, Matthew decides to have a little fun. “Whoa, settle down, Trust Fund. Y’can’t talk to a lady like that, ‘specially not your sister.” 

He’s no white knight, but he can pretend. 

And isn’t that what you’re all doing? Pretending to be people you aren’t. Acting out your roles, putting on a show. After all, a performance will always be more entertaining than the truth. 

“—and here I thought etiquette classes were a Rodeo Royalty rite of passage. Glad t’know she ain’t the only roughneck hellion in your family tree, Huggy.” 

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His tongue threatens to put a hole through his cheek. Hands on his hips, the eldest sibling only nods. He ignores Matthew entirely. 

“Real winner y’got there. A class act. You really know how to pick ‘em—cream of the goddamn crop. Say, what’re you gonna do when he inevitably gets bored of you? When he gets his hands on a fresh doe-eyed virgin to tarnish?” 

After she finishes with Matthew, she’s kicking Jack’s sorry ass. 

Those anxieties—and that majorly personal tidbit of information—were shared in confidence. Because unlike her older brother, she trusted her twin. Well, she used to, at least. Luke’ll be over the moon at the chance to be her favorite. 

She bares her teeth like a scorned lapdog. “We’re not kids anymore, Q. You can’t push me around whenever you want or tell me what to do like you’re my father. And you sure as shit can’t bully me into submission, either. Give it up, or get lost.” 

“Whatever,” Quinn barks as he backs away from the trailer. “Your fuckin’ funeral.” 

Listening to the fading sound of her brother’s Ariats pounding through the dirt, she buries her face in the warm, familiar crook of Matthew’s neck; she needs a moment alone. He seems to understand this, his mouth zipped shut as he runs calloused hands up and down her sides. She’s breathing heavily, but he does her the simple mercy of leaving it be. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was growing on you,” Matthew hums, a low-maintenance attempt to lighten the mood. 

They don’t do the touchy-feely BS. It’s one of the things that reeled him in—and kept him coming back. 

“But you do.” She pulls away to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum. He hates that her melancholic eyes are red-rimmed. “—and stop thinking, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“And what does, princess? I’m dyin’ for your insight.” 

“Shut the door and I’ll show you.” 

He blinks, taken aback. Who is this brazen tart, and when did she take your place? Matthew wonders to himself. Maybe he is the bad influence everyone paints him as… He hasn’t really thought about it until now, and it's troubling the way it makes his chest tighten. 

Matthew clears his throat—and, from his mind, the distressing notion that he’s ruined someone good with his carelessness—as he leans over. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He pulls the hauler’s heavy metal door shut with clamorous finality.  

Matthew Tkachuk might be the most self-serving swindler on dirt, but Quinn Hughes is just another name on his list. A box to tick and then forget. He wouldn’t lose sleep, it wasn’t like their friendship meant a damn thing. Not anymore. A friend turned foe, reduced to another obstacle in his way, a hurdle to jump. 

Tonight, his sister’s fealty; tomorrow, his title.

Retribution is at his fingertips, so close he can taste it. Yet, it would seem that Matthew merely traded one hornet’s nest for another. 

At least this one’s easy on the eyes. 

⤑ to my inbox💌

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[moodymisty]

hi! i hope you feel better soon!

i was wondering if you plans for continuing your ‘legions reacting to their primarch’s partner’ series ?

have a good one :) 🐊

Part 1, Part 2

Author's Note: Sure, here's the rest of them :3

Relationships: Implied Leman Russ/Reader, AlphariusOmegon/Reader, Sanguinius/Reader, Lorgar/Reader, Ferrus Manus/Reader, Mortarion/Reader, Jaghatai Khan/Reader, Horus/Reader, Fulgrim/Reader, Corvus Corax/Reader (A NOTE: almost all of these are gender neutral, but a few might have the term mother or another female term in it, so fair warning)

Warnings: None really

➧ Space Wolves:

Pretty average. They're definitely one of the better legions to be around if you're a baseline human, as they're not only pretty chill, but actually somewhat... nice? By Astartes standards.

You enjoy listening to them tell battle stories around the bonfire or whatever you're all camped around, and they like how easy it is to impress you with their feats of strength. Evenings can quickly devolve into one on one duels if you're around, and there's enough Mjød involved. Impressing Wolf Mother with your spur of the moment honor duel is the height of accomplishment, for a hammered Space Wolf.

You would hope Russ would stop these shenanigans, but you’ll find yourself disappointed when he joins in, brawling his own Astartes for your attention that he already has.

They also all find it absolutely hilarious when you use one of their tamed Fenrisian wolves as a mount, as it puts you at eye level with them.

➧ Alpha Legion:

Your relationship with Alpharius & Omegon is as ambiguous as how the Alpha Legion Astartes feel about you.

They don't like the twins having a potential weak spot that can be exploited by enemies, and their myriad of plans and spiderweb of secrets could get easily unraveled; But if the twins brought you into the inner circle, they’ll place trust that they did it for a reason.

It's just a bit, disorienting having so many men- some of which look very similar- coming in and out of your life. The twins know that you can tell them apart from their legion lookalikes (somehow and it pisses them off), but they still find it funny to try and slip things past you.

➧ Blood Angels:

As one of the kinder chapters, you being brought into the fold is of little resistance, largely because they see how happy Sanguinius is when you're around. They may be battle hardened warriors, but they find it difficult to express their worries when their Primarch has never looked happier holding your much tinier hand.

However the Blood Angels already have a protective (border-lining on obsessive) nature with their Primarch, and that is something that now extends in fold to anyone Sanguinius is close to. Being you.

Do not expect to go anywhere with any less than three fully armored Blood Angels. They will glare at anyone who comes close, they will scold anyone who speaks to you without proper prose, and you will have to deal with it. Some may have a developing soft spot for their kind Legion Mother which allows you to order them around, but they are very strict in this regard.

And Sanguinius will not stop it; Because he feels the same way as them, he's just better at hiding it.

➧ Word Bearers:

Largely neutral at first, but over time they begin to warm up to you as Lorgar's loving gazes and borderline worshipping talk wears on them. It also helps that they have some non-violent experience with other humans.

There are some however who don't approve of your closeness to Lorgar; Especially as it becomes more obvious that Lorgar's priorities are changing, and his distractions are getting worse. You becoming the idée fixe of Lorgar's mind is more than a bit concerning for some members of the legion, particularly ones touched by Kor Phaeron.

They hold their tongues, but you know they don't like whenever the two of you are alone. You've heard the word 'temptress' uttered more than once.

➧ Iron Hands:

Extremely blunt, and to the point. like the Imperial Fists, but without the protective streak. Iron Hand brutal efficacy doesn't exactly mix with the slow nurturing of what one could consider romance.

But you show genuine interest in the practices of the legion and don't impede on their chapter traditions, so the Iron Hands suppose it could be worse. They'd much rather their Primarch not be distracted however, and that is a theme that will remain present in any conversation regarding you for a long while. Expect them to basically ignore you for the first portion of your relationship with Ferrus.

Rude...

➧ Death Guard:

The Death Guard are one of the legions that is definitely more conflicted about the whole thing.

On one hand they say that he will end up distracted, eyes pulled away from his crusade to more frivolous things like romance. But on the other hand, if it does away with some of Mortarion's depressive moue, then they can bite their tongues about it. Either way, they definitely aren't fans of it, and you'll more than hear about it.

Legion meetings are, more than a bit stressful. Mortarion often times comes back ragged and angry after being told he should be rid of you.

Things are strained. You hope they'll level out with time.

➧ White Scars:

Probably one of the better legions to be in. Helps that they don't despise baseline humans, and actually know how to smile sometimes.

It's refreshing to be around Astartes who are a little less, stuck up, something you say under your breath not long after being officially introduced to them. They find it absolutely hilarious.

You have a few Astartes you're a bit more familiar with that Jaghatai trusts to be your personal guard, in the rare moments he isn't close. Pretty chill all around.

Unless there's about seven of them all eagerly surrounding you trying to teach you different Chogoran words, then it's significantly less chill.

Also jetbike rides sound rad af

➧ Luna Wolves:

They have their doubts as all legions do, but given Horus' charisma it isn't long before they toss those doubts aside, and quickly welcome you into the fold at Horus' side.

Also similar to the Blood Angels in that they get near feral protecting their genefather's beloved. It's like his obsessive nature somehow has somehow manifested or has been genetically implanted in them. Horus always makes sure you have a guard at your side, no matter where you go.

It was all fine at first, but now you're beginning to feel a bit like a prisoner.

➧ Raven Guard:

The Raven Guard are pretty tame all things considered. While conversations tend to be respectfully brief, you've noticed overtime that it's less so disinterest, and more a so near nervous formality. It's almost like they don't know how to talk to a baseline human woman for more than a few moments. It's, cute.

Nykona doesn't seem to mind you though; Largely because he overheard you mumble that you think his armor is the most impressive out of all of the Raven Guard Astartes during a sparring session between him and Corax.

Overall, they’re happy Corvus is happy, and as long as his main mission isn’t compromised, they’re content to have you here.

While most legions say ‘Legion Mother’ however, the Raven Guard tend to use the title ‘Raven Mother’ instead when being formal. When they started saying that instead of just legion mother, you noticed how it intertwines with how they refer to Corvus.

Once you realized you got a little bit too excited they’d finally started accepting you, and scared the shit out of no less than three guards by abruptly crying.

➧ The Emperor's Children:

They do enjoy being around humans that can appreciate the arts, and they don't hold much ill will towards you as the jewel of their Primarch's eye. If anything, they seem almost pleased their Primarch is able to pursue such things. You're welcomed into the fold with little fanfare, and Legion business continues on with nary a peep about Fulgrim's new wife.

Many of them create things for you, which while incredibly sweet, makes Fulgrim a little miffed if you show too much joy about it. He just gets a bit jealous, but it's harmless. You find it kind of cute.

[eldritchpotato]

First Contact 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

Day 13 was when Inno started filling you. You couldn't be sure but you felt each one slipping deeper inside you every few minutes. The pumping motion was almost fucking, you honestly relished whatever it was doing. Anything that provided you some relief had to be a positive thing.

The computer however was panicking because apparently they were eggs. Inno was filling you with eggs. Which seemed more assuming than anything, considering Inno’s placement they weren’t really going anywhere but also human biology definitely wouldn’t be suitable for incubation. Right?

Another egg was pushed deeper inside you and you groaned, leaning on the counter to support yourself. Inno’s tormenting had only become worse with the egg laying.    

By this point you were starting to feel full, feel them pressing against your insides as more and more were added. Your stomach was bloated, a sign of what was to come perhaps.

Your lactation had only increased too, and your hormones were off the charts according to the computer. You weren’t just biologically pregnant but so pregnant your body was going a little haywire. You had Inno to thank for that.

Maybe it was a favour it was constantly drinking your milk because your tits had only continued to grow. They would have constantly been uncomfortably full without its gentle ministrations. The computer’s estimated milk production left you feeling more like a cow than a top scientist in your field. How fucking humiliating. It was such a saving grace there was no one else here to see you in this sorry state.

No one but you and Inno of course.

Inno’s tendrils had started to cover more and more of you, becoming some kind of living clothing that made your skin tingle and shiver. It all felt so maddeningly good, just not good enough.

You were dogging video calls from your superiors because you were consistently naked and were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure anyway.

Easier to focus on the pleasurable pulsing than all the stress of what was happening anyway. One day you zoned out all afternoon just counting every suck on your clit. By the time you blinked back to reality the twin suns had set.

Was it possible you were getting dumber? You certainly felt dumber. So horny and throbbing all the time that it was hard to focus on other things. The research base was all automated thankfully, so no risk of you being so distracted by tiptoeing along the edge of orgasm that you forgot something silly like maintaining the life support system. Really you didn’t need to worry about much of anything. Sure you weren’t getting work done but you were in a remote part of space. Your bosses couldn’t literally breathe down your neck. 

Though actually that sounded kind of nice. Really anything more than Inno’s slow incessant motions would be a dream cum true. 

Another egg slipped inside you and your knees gave out. Fuck, you would give literally anything to be properly fucked. You felt like an animal in heat. Except your pussy was caged away where bucking your hips in the air accomplished absolutely nothing.

When was the last time you had eaten? You honestly weren’t sure, if it wasn’t for the automated calendar the days would have blurred together by now. Inno’s tendrils had reached your collarbones now, looping around to entangle your throat.

It had started spreading out too, around your torso and limbs. You could swear you could almost feel them yourself as if your nerves were becoming one. Unfortunately, none of those weird nerves let you cum. So it hardly mattered.

You were still sitting on the floor by the time morning came about. You looked around dumbly, wiping drool from your face. How much time had you just lost in those few thoughts? 

You tried to stand on shaky legs. Your stomach was bulging, so full that every step jostled the eggs inside you. Not that that was a bad thing, every step sent a jolt of pleasure through you. Bringing you closer and closer and closer to orgasm but never over the edge. You were getting used to it by this point.

It was starting to feel like one eternal orgasm rather than chasing a single one.

At a point what was the difference? You were constantly being pleasured, endlessly drunk on it. Your brain was sluggish, your cunt was squirting, your tits were leaking, your clit was still pounding. Maybe you had been cumming all along?

You collapsed onto the couch, draping over it in a daze, Inno still stepped between your legs as you had grown used to.

Another egg slipped inside you, the bliss silencing your constant thoughts. You sat there, your brain mercifully empty and drowning in pleasure as Inno filled you more and more with eggs.

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

five

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

110 AC King's Landing

You noticed Rhaenyra sitting on her balcony a book in her lap. You smiled and took a seat next to the silver haired girl.

"Rhaenyra" You smiled and the heir snapped her head from the tome.

"Is there something you need?" She asked

"Can't I visit my favourite niece?" You laughed and Rhaenyra chuckled. "I actually came to propose expanding your own court."

The realm's delight raised her eyebrows a curious expression etched on her Valyrian features.

"In what way?"

"As the heir to the iron throne you should build your own court. Invite the daughters of powerful lords to serve as your ladies in waiting or companions. They will secure loyalties of the great houses." You explained

"And who do you propose? I know you already have a list of candidates, their flaws and strengths memorised." She jested and you laughed, it was true your spies have told you everything you need.

"Lord Maths Tyrell has a sister, Elinor Tyrell. Lynara Stark the cousin of Lord Rickon. Your mother's half sister Elys has two daughters perhaps we could invite the three of them I know that they have been quite close as children." Rhaenyra visibly saddened at the mention of her late mother "Borros Baratheon has five daughters I would invite the oldest Cassandra and the youngest Floris, I know you hold disdain towards the Lannisters but they are rich in gold the crown does not posses. Lord Tymond has only one daughter Jocasta she is only nine years of age nonetheless we have to have a ward for the south. The Tullys do not have daughter but we could invite their vassals like house Blackwood, Mallister and Mooton. Lord Veron Greyjoy has twin daughters Lanna and Margot, I think it would be unfair if we separate them" Rhaenyra nodded approvingly.

"And what of the minor houses?" She asked

"I have already sent word to the minor houses with the invite to kings landing, their daughters will serve you and their sons have been offered squire positions of famous knights." You said, the responses have not yet arrived but you knew all of them would be positive. They could not refuse the crown.

"That is good and you know all of these people?" She mused and you nodded.

"Not personally, but whatever my spiders hear I hear." You said and Rhaenyra chuckled. "I shall write to the houses in your steed you will have to seal the letters... Rhaenyra?"

"Yes?"

"I wish to take Aegon with me to Sunspear to be fostered."

"Do you think that Alicent and Otto will agree?" She asked.

"It does not matter if they agree or not. If Viserys agrees the matter is settled."

Rhaenyra nodded playing with the rings on the fingers.

"While on the subject of family I thought that we could pay a visit to the Velaryon's to mend the rift between our two Valyrian houses."

"Rhaenys hates me..." The realms delight whispered.

"She does not hate you, Rhaenys is... conflicted. The realm refused to crown her as heir but she watched as you accomplished what she could not." You liked the dark haired woman, she was strong yet kind. Despite the loss of her inheritance she remained proud and important at court. "Befriending Rhaenys could also provide support from the Baratheons. They posses Valyrian blood and have been our allies since Aegon the Conqueror." 

"Shall we send word to Driftmark to prepare for our arrival?" Rhaenyra asked, a small smile on her lips, you nodded approvingly.

...

The dragon keepers prepared the bronze fury and the golden lady for travel. The two dragons got on exceptionally well, unusual for their species.

"Dohaeragon Vermithor." One of the elder dragon keepers said, y/n noticing the scene interrupted with anger bubbling in her insides. (Serve)

"Zaldrīzoti gaomagon daor dohaeragon" y/n raised her voice, she ran up to her steed dismissing the dragon keepers. Rhaenyra chuckled and mounted her own dragon, Syrax roared happily. (Dragons do not serve.)

"Ivestragī's sōvegon ñuha raqiros" y/n said atop her steed. Vermithor roared and straightened his wings. The bronze fury took off along the golden lady. (Let's fly my friend.)

...

Driftmark is an island in black water bay, the seat of house Velaryon. Next to Drfitmark was Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. The two Valyrian houses always were close.

Vermithor and Syrax flew alongside each other, the endless teal sea stretching under them. A comforting breeze caressed your cheeks, you could smell the salt in the air and see the mountains of Driftmark in the distance.

Banners of a silver seahorse on sea green background stood proudly at the entrance of castle Driftmark. You and Rhaenyra walked confidently towards the gates, your dragons circling the island flying towards Meleys, Seasmoke and Vhagar.

"Cousin!" You said happily walking towards the black haired woman, she smiled slightly hugging your form. "It is so good to see you."

"Princess Rhaenyra." Rhaenys spoke eyeing the girl. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence."

"Princess Rhaenys." Rhaenyra stared "We have come here to offer a truce."

"A truce?" Rhaenys questioned, hiding her curiosity. She invited the two princesses towards the main hall of castle Driftmark. A servant placed pies, cakes and other dishes along with wine.

"We have never been close..." The heir begun "And I'd like to change that. I know that you feel stripped of your inheritance, but you can't change history. I think that we could help each other."

"With what could you possibly help me?" The older woman asked, she glanced at the servants standing near the walls of the chambers. "Leave us." She ordered

"Cousin you see what happens at court." You said, staring into the violet eyes of the Queen who never was. "Our house grows weaker everyday, the Hightowers claim more and more power. We need to unite the blood of old Valyria." Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, sipping her wine.

"How do you propose we do that?"

"I suggest inviting Laena as Rhaenyra's lady in waiting." You proposed, Rhaenys nodded but pressed the matter further.

"And what of my son?" She questioned.

"Perhaps an alliance could be made." Rhaenyra said, you looked curiously at your niece. She has not mentioned any alliance before. "As you know my father intends for my to marry, thankfully he has given me the right to choose my royal consort."

Your eyes widened at Rhaenyra's words, it would make a great political move but her aversion towards marriage prevented that. Now she was proposing an engagement herself?

"Your son Laenor would become my royal consort our children would become Kings, uniting our two houses." The heir spoke.

"I would have to consult with my husband." Rhaenys said, but deep down you knew that they cannot refuse such a match.

"And where is lord Corlys I would like to pay my respects." You asked but Rhaenys sighed.

"He is deeply injured and the maester's said that he should not take any visitors. But I will pass the message." Rhaenys said and left the hall.

...

You watched as Rhaenyra and Laenor walked on the sandy shore of the sea, engaged in conversation. You glanced from the balcony of your chambers. A knock interrupted your observations, you walked towards the doors opening them to reveal Laena.

"Please come in." The silver haired woman walked inside. Her teal dress flowed elegantly behind her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I came to visit you, cousin. We have not seen each other since I was considered as a possible Queen." Laena said and took a seat.

"In retrospect if you had been given the choice now, would you marry Viserys?" You ask Laena shrugged her shoulders.

"If I was given the choice I do not think so." She responded.

"You wouldn't want to be Queen?" You asked curiously.

"Too much responsibilities, I would not be able to ride Vhagar instead I would have to entertain dull ladies. And the realm would except me to constantly squeeze out heirs." You nodded at her reasoning, you knew that some courtiers proposed you as a possible wife to Viserys but he quickly shut down those ideas.

"Then I am happy to say that Rhaenyra would not strip you of your right to bond with your dragon, perhaps we could fly together some time." You proposed and the Velaryon smiled.

"I hope we become friends." She said and you nodded.

"I would like that."

...

Coming back to King's Landing with Laena and her mount Vhagar certainly surprised the small folk as well as the court. The Velaryon and Targaryen walked together engrossed in conversation, you however departed from the two girls. Viserys was easily impressionable, Otto didn't have to try hard to manipulate him. So you needed to be quicker.

"Princess y/n Targaryen, your grace." The kings guards announced opening the heavy doors to Viserys's chambers.

"Your grace." you said bowing slightly. Viserys laughed and ushered you inside. " I come bearing good news."

"I am eager to hear them then." Viserys smiled, continuing to work on his old Valyria sculpture.

"Rhaenyra has proposed to marry Laenor Velaryon." His grace whipped his head in your direction. Surprise etched on his features.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes, I think it is a good match. The Velaryons are the richest house in the realm, they are the blood of old Valyria and they have three dragons." The king nodded "Rhaenys said she has to consult with Corlys, once the word arrives you should officially bethrode the two."

"I will do so, yes." Viserys muttered

"Were you looking for houses were Aegon and Aemond could be fostered?" You asked changing the topic, Viserys raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I have not no. Why?" He asked.

"I would like to take Aegon with me to be fostered in Dorne." You said

"Marvellous idea sister!" His grace said smiling from ear to ear. "I know how much Aegon loves you. It would do him good."

You wanted to laugh, was Viserys so blind as to not see the rift creating in his household? Alicent and Otto will stew in anger at the news.

Many letters and offering were sent to the great houses, y/n's idea to bring influence over the houses of Westeros. She would do anything in her power to help Rhaenyra. With limited time in the capital she worked tirelessly, writing to many lords and ladies in Rhaenyra's name.

Now over four dozen lord and ladies made their way towards king's landing as members of Rhaenyra's court. The houses were delighted for their daughter to become members at court and their spare sons receiving knighthood's as well as a place in the king's guard.

The Targaryen princess poured the hot bronze wax over the folded parchment and placing her houses sigil and waited for the wax to harden.

The small council meeting was to take place today, the matter of Rhaenyra's engagement and Aegon's fostering would be discussed. You knew that they could not refuse, despite only Viserys knowing that you proposed the idea yourself.

Your maids dressed you in a pink dress made from silk, small gems were embroidered on the shoulders of the gown. The sleeves ended at the elbows and a loose, puffy white fabric covered the rest of the arm.

Ser Lorent Marbrand escorted you to the small council meeting, Rhaenyra was already there as the heir. She sat on the right of her father while Otto sat on the left. You kissed Rhaenyra's cheek and sat next to her, taking your place as the mistress of whisperers. The rest of the council arrived shortly after, Viserys arrived last.

"Your Grace." The people present bowed and sat as the King allowed it.

"I came to the conclusion that my son Aegon is of age to be fostered." Otto and Alicent widened their eyes as this was news to them. "I want him to be fostered in Dorne, my sister will take care of his upbringing as the ruling Princess of Dorne."

"And what of Prince Aemond?" Lord Lyonel asked.

"He is too young to be fostered but once the council deems him suitable I propose to foster Prince Aemond in Rivererun. Lord Grover has sons close to my nephews age." You answered glancing at Otto as fire burned behind his eyes.

"A great idea Princess." Lyman Beesbury smiled. "The crown was always close with the river lords. ."

"Thank you, my Lord." The master of coin bowed his head.

"As you know my daughter, your future Queen has been searching for a possible prince consort." Viserys began glancing lovingly at his daughter. "Princess Rhaenyra has decided to marry ser Laenor Velaryon."

The small council stared in shock at Rhaenyra, she in turn smugly smiled.

"The bethrodal has not yet been officially announced as Lord Corlys is ill, but Princess Rhaenys has agreed." Rhaenyra added.

"A fine match, your highness." Maester Mellos responded, that grey rat you thought. He is the one responsible for killing Aemma.

"As per my aunts advice I have decided to expand my own court." Rhaenyra announced.

"In what way princess?" Alicent questioned.

"I shall invite the daughters of the realm to serve as my ladies in waiting and companions, I also intend to provide the son's with squire positions."

"Can the crown withstand such a strain?" Otto questioned glancing at the master of coin Lord Beesbury.

"It should be no problem, lord hand. The ladies shall receive a pensions of a five hundred golden dragons as is customary. The princess and I have gone over a list of possible candidates and it amounts to thirty ladies and twenty lords."

"The princess is right, with the increased demand for spices the crown has gained much gold." Lord Lyman advocated.

"Then it is settled." Viserys concluded. "y/n if you could write to the the lords and ladies."

"The letters are waiting to be send."

...

The red keep was a marvellous building it's construction lasted for ten years started by Aegon the first and finished by his second son Maegor. The heels of your shoes clicked against the stone floor, see Duncans armour rattled with every movement. You nodded at the two guards stationed outside the nursery, they opened the heavy doors and you walked in.

Two maids and a septa watched the green children. Aegon played with the wooden soldiers you have gifted him for his seventh name day, Haelaena watched her younger brother Aemond chortle in his crib. When the door opened and the children noticed your presence they smiled and ran towards you hugging your skirts.

"y/n!" Aegon said happily you smiled and kissed the crown of his head doing the same to his siblings.

"I thought that we could go to the dragon pit and visit your hatchling." You proposed and the boys eyes lit up he nodded vigorously, you laughed at his excitement.

"Septa Tesha I shall be taking the prince and princess to the dragon pit." The holy woman nodded "Perhaps you could join us?" You proposed, but you knew she would not agree.

"Thank you princess but I shall stay here and wait for your return." She answered, the woman was Alicent's servant and yet she talked without a care to your spiders.

...

"Elder Jaqos could you bring Sunfyre?" You asked the elder dragon keeper he nodded and ventured deeper into the caves of the dragon pit. You held Helaena in your arms as Aegon gripped your skirts. You smiled as you heard the familiar screeches of Sunfyre. The small he dragon possessed gold scales with pink membranes. It is believed that the dragon hatched from one of dreamfyre's eggs and was the sibling of Caraxes and Meleys.

You watched as Aegon took little steps towards his dragon, the creature also watched curiously. The boy petted his mount and Sunfyre purred happily. You walked over with Helaena, you hummed a Valyrian lullaby and kneeled next to the dragon. Its head turned towards your from, you gently grazed his horns. Sunfyre leaned into your touch.

"y/n how come every dragon likes you?" Aegon asked watching the golden dragon smile.

"I do not know sweet boy." You answered "Why do you think they like me?" The boy raised her faint eyebrows.

"I think it is because you like them. They can sense the respect and love you hold for them." He responded after pondering on the question.

"That is a very smart Egg." You mused and caressed the boy's silver locks.

"Aegon would you like to go with me to Dorne?" You asked to boy, his violet eyes shone brightly and he nodded quickly.

"And what of my sister and brother?" He asked letting Helaena grip his finger.

"They will stay here, Rhaenyra will take great care of them."

...

You watched from the balcony as carriages arrived at the courtyard, the sigils of house Stark, Reed, Bolton of the north the Tullys, Blackwoods, Mallisters and Mootons of the riverlands and Arryns, Royce, Waynwood of the vale waved lightly in the wind. The children of house Tyrell, Redwyne, Tarly and Oakheart of the reach have arrived a few days ago. The Lannisters along with their vassals Banefort, Clegane and Payne have arrived first along with the Baratheons, Dondarrions, Buckler, Errol and Selmy of the storm lands. Now the only house you were waiting for were the Martells.

You watched as Rhaenyra along with Laena exchanged pleasantries with the new arrivals, gifts and thanks were given to the realm's delight. You nodded at your servants to tend to the noble houses and show them their new chambers in Aegonfort. They were instructed to pay close attention to the lords and ladies what they say, how they act, the look in their eyes, everything.

Ser Steffon Darklyn stood behind you as he observed the royal courtyard. You turned towards the knight and whispered in his ear.

"I want your most trusted men to observe the new guests." The knight nodded. Ser Steffon became your sworn shield, a strong and seasoned knight second only to the lord commander of the Kingsguard ser Harrold Westerling. You did not worry for the commander as he held great love for you and Rhaenyra. He was your and your nieces guard for almost ten years. His loyalty was certain. Your sworn shield nodded and followed after you as you descended the stairs standing next to Rhaenyra and her sworn shield Ser Criston Cole.

"My servants are tending to the new guests." You said in high Valyrian bowing your head at every lord and lady that kneeled before the two of you.

"Good, I am rather bored greeting all these people. Did you have to invite so many?" Rhaenyra questioned and you let out a laugh.

"If not me then who?" Rhaenyra chuckled and you did the same, your arms entertained as you greeted the guests.

...

Your maid Annora quietly walked into your solar, you put down your book and raised an eyebrow at the red haired girl.

"What is it?" You asked curiously and pointed to the chair next to you she swiftly took her seat.

"A party with Martell banners has been spotted on the King's Road few leagues away from King's Landing." She whispered and you nodded.

"Thank you Annora, you may leave." The maid nodded and left your chambers.

You sighed, things very hectic with the arrival of the courtiers you had to arrange a wider net of spiders. Accommodating the new guests was also tiring, you wrote down every extra expense and consulted with lord Lyman Beesbury the master of coin. It gave you an idea to find new and more successful ways for the crown to make money. In your investigation you found that most of the lands that belonged to House Targaryen in the crowlands have been unused. The lands were scattered with abandoned mines containing materials like iron, copper, gold and even gems. You could not believe that Viserys has forgotten or ignored such viable land. The smallfolk have been offered work in these mines and soon the crown was making more money than ever before.

The hours passed by quickly and soon came the word that the Martells have arrived in King's Landing. The whole royal family came to greet the prince of Dorne. You were curious of Qoren, the last time you saw him was nine long years ago. Four great black stallions pulled the carriage of the Dornish prince. Their sigil a red sun pierced by a golden spear decorated their orange banners.

Qoren Martell grew to be tall, slender and golden skinned. His face is slender with thin eyebrows, deep brown eyes and a sharp nose. His hair is lustrous and black. A thick and short beard covered his chin. He was the epitome of Dornish beauty. He bowed before the Targaryen's and smiled showing off his white teeth. As soon as he left his carriage his brown eyes met yours. A blush spread on your cheeks, as a small fond smile formed on your lips. Your little interaction was interrupted by Alicent.

"Prince Qoren we thank you for coming such a long way." Alicent spoke breaking the silence.

"The pleasure is all mine your grace." He responded, a small smile appeared on your lips. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked with disdain at the Dornish man.

Pleasantries were exchanged and servants led him to his chambers. One of your maids have instructed him to come to your chambers for supper. Despite being betrothed you wanted to avoid scandal, two of your trusted maids would be present during the ordeal.

You waited for the prince to arrive, dressed in a black and purple dress you sat in the comfortable armchair. Soon a knock interrupted your inner monologue.

"Your royal highness." He approached and bowed his head, you stood up and nodded.

"My prince, please sit down." You offered the seat across from your own. "I hope you will not mind that we are joined by my chaperones." You said cutting the food on your plate.

"Not at all your highness." He answered "I am glad to see you again." Qoren said and a rosy blush decorated his slender features.

"As am I, Qoren... I am very sad for your loss." You added. "From what I've heard your mother was a great person and ruler."

"Thank you, princess. But it was years ago." Qoren added.

"I didn't have the chance to say my condolences in person, I can only imagine how hard it is to loose a mother."

"It was hard, but I suppose time heals all wounds." The prince hummed. "After all you have lost your mother too."

"Oh, I do not remember my mother." A sad smile ghosted over your lips. "Perhaps that made it easier, as I never got to know her. Losing her didn't hurt."

"I'm sorry... no child should grow up without parents." Your betrothed offered his condolences.

"You have changed." You tried to change the moody subject.

"As have you, I never thought you could be even more beautiful and yet you have." He coyly said and a blush reddened your cheeks.

"Such flattery my prince."

"I cannot help it, my betrothed."

"I remember how you used to stumble over your words, now it seems the gods have blessed you with a silver tongue."

"You remember that?" Qoren smiled sheepishly, even though he was a man grown you could still see the boy you once knew shine thorough him. "I had hoped you would have forgotten." He placed his large warm hand on yours, the large sigil ring caused goosebumps on your skin.

"How could I forget, my prince? I remember the time we spent together fondly, as children life was much easier was it not?"

"Yes." Qoren agreed. "I am glad you remember me fondly."

"I do, after all you were the first friend I ever made."

...

You saw Rhaenyra surrounded by her ladies, they chatted, laughed and ate cake. When the time comes you will help your niece find suitable matches for the young ladies.

"Sister" Daemon said sneaking up on you, you gasped surprised.

"Seven hells" You whispered "What is it Daemon?"

"I have come to ask if you were serious?" He accused and you raised an eyebrow.

"Serious about what?" You countered

"That Dornish cunt." You sighed deeply, the last thing on your mind was Daemon's jealousy.

"What about him?" You questioned, Daemons eyes narrowed.

"Why are you marrying him?" He asked anger evident in his tone.

"Why shouldn't I? He's handsome, kind and the prince of a kingdom." You shot back not understanding this sudden outburst.

"You can't marry him." He ordered, a laugh escaped your throat at his child like behaviour.

"Daemon my sweet brother what do you expect I do? I have agreed to the bethrodal in fact I proposed it. Why would should I listen to a desperate plea from a man who inherits nothing, has no real position at court and his only allies are his family." You answered anger boiling in you insides.

"Careful little girl." He said menacingly.

"Or what Daemon? You'll kill me? Be serious, you had opportunities laid at your feet and you snubbed or ruined them." You had enough of him on his high horse.

"We should have wed in the traditions of old Valyria." Daemon said angrily, his silver brows furrowed.

"Maybe in another life we could have... But we don't get what we want simply by wanting." You answered and left Daemon alone.

...

Your insides were boiling, thoughts swarming your mind. You rode to the dragon pit eager to visit your friend. You stomped through the hidden passageway moving with knowing expertise among the many caves and crevices. Vermithor rested comfortably in his den, the burned stone and animal carcasses decorated the stoney cage.

"Vermithor?" You asked walking to the creature's snout, he lazily opened his yellow eye. The dragon screeched and straightened his wing so you could climb upon his back. The bronze fury gilded gracefully through the dragon pit the roars and screeches of other dragons resting in their dens brought you a sense of comfort, the heat from their flames only increased this feeling.

Without saying a word your mount soared to the sky, his mighty wings lifted you leagues into the sky. You smiled the cumbersome thoughts fleeing from your mind as if they were petals blown by the wind.

...

It is said that over one hundred crows have been sent on the eve of the first day of spring. And soon enough over four dozens members of the nobility travelled to king's landing. Many believe that the whole ordeal was singlehandedly arranged by Princess y/n Targaryen. In doing so she gained many wards of the great and minor houses of the seven kingdoms. Some gave her a new alias the good Tyanna of the Tower.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Heeeeeyyy so I've been reading some of the s/o HCs you've done. And I adore the domestic ones for Savanaclaw,especially Jack. Getting right to the point,and I hope this isn't weird in any way,I've been thinking about Jack and s/o (many years after their NRC days of course) having twin boys but one is a little bit small? I wouldn't want to use the word runty but simply,smaller than other wolf beastmen usually are. Just something sweet,something nice,even with that difference that is his kid and he knows he can accomplish just as much as any other kid

Jack Howl:

Jack had learned this lesson from Vil long ago, and likely in other parts of his life. Just because someone had a pretty exterior didn’t mean they lacked in toughness, and he felt the same about the size of his son. He had never treated them differently from the day his twins were born, playing rough with both of them, getting them involved in family activities (with proper safety precautions), never letting his son feel like he wasn’t part of the pack.

He can’t say he doesn’t worry about how others will think of him, but he hoped he could instill the lesson that others’ opinions don’t matter. He had never been one to go with the crowd and he remained as honest as he could, hoping to instill these lessons in his children but especially his son who might not visually meet the standards of other wolf beastmen.

If his son were to bring this to his attention, perhaps lamenting his size and wishing he was an actual mirror of his twin, Jack would be at a loss. Despite being slightly more in touch with his emotions he still struggled to think of a way to show his son that he was fine the way he was, that he was achieving the same things as others and that a size difference had never been holding him back. He did try to point out the things he had achieved on his own, the wins he’d gotten, adamant that he had never ‘let’ either of his sons have an easy win over him.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Mabel and Dipper make a huge deal about how what Ford and Stan are doing isn’t therapy and that Ford does not have the proper license to have started this all in the first place. Stan sides with the twins because “ha! Ford’s not qualified for something! That means I’m winning!”

Ford huffs but (very reluctantly) relents. Then he disappears for four days. When he returns, he proudly presents a therapist license to Mabel and Dipper. An actual, legit license from a credited university.

The kids: how did you get that?

Ford: I contacted the university and asked to write their licensing exam. They didn’t want to let me, since I didn’t take the course, but I proved to them I already had all the knowledge and am well studied in the subject. They allowed it. I passed the exam effortlessly, of course. Now I have a valid license. Happy?

Mabel: …Does it work like that?

Dipper: Definitely not.

(Ford chooses not to mention that when he says he asked the university to allow him to write the exam, what he meant was he bullied the university into it. He waved around all his degrees and leveraged the reputation of the institute to get his way. This is unimportant information to him however. He got the license and that’s what he needed.)

Dipper: I find it hard to believe the university just let you do that.

Ford: I already have a phd in psychology. It wasn’t hard.

Stan: You WHAT? Since when?!

Ford: Years ago? When I told you I did that crash course before our first session? I did much studying and wrote a dissertation before we’d even begun. It just took a while for me to get the university to accept it. But they did. Guess who has thirteen phds now?

Ford’s acquisition of a therapist license changes nothing. He and Stan still do the same brother brawl therapy, but now the kids can’t rag on him for being unqualified.

Every word of this is golden. Of course Ford would work to make what he's doing official, instead of trying to change a single aspect of it.

Stan retaliates, of course, by working to get his own, very legal and not at all forged (no don't look any closer at this document or any of the names. Stay exactly that distance) license.

This also changes nothing, just evens the playing field between them. Now Ford can't brag about it, since Stan now has his own (very legal).

Somehow it works? Stan's definitely improved his self worth issues and Ford doesn't place all his self worth on his accomplishments, but no one knows how. They can't make out what either of them are screaming half the time.

10/10 therapist agree never do what these two are doing. In fact, if your therapist does this sue them. Never schedule an appointment with Dr. Pines.

Although now I'm thinking one of the kids comes to Ford to talk about a deep issue and has to preface it with 'please don't tackle me'.

[nowimjustastranger]

Okay extremely hurt/ansyty stanleys???

Illl take that as a challenge btww ifmy spelling is a bit off it’s because im sick rn and depending on autocorrect 👍

Okay au where Stanleyjdhe and Ford were seprersted as kids because Caryn gets an opportunity to leave Filbrick and take the kids with her. However unfortunately Filbrick got to still keep Stanley.

Stanley as kid, doesn’t really have many friends because he “too much personality”. He kinda feels like one half of a whole, and life with an angry Filbrick isn’t much better. Because he did not take the divorce well.

Stabley is forced to sit outside the shop with the “$5 for a Stan” sign. When a strange man who smells of rot takes Stanley off of Filbricks hands.

The man is apparently the leader of a cult called thr Cipherologists. This is where Stanley meets Ford who looks identically like him. Apparently Ford and Shermie were abducted from their mother.

There’s a prophecy with the Stan twins.

“One will release the beast, and the other will kill it”

The cipherologists obviously want to kill the kid who will kill their overlord and master Bill Cipher.

But don’t know which kid to kill. Especially because once the Stan twins learned of the propecfuclly they decided to do what they call the “Twin routine” where they act inddistuigshable from eachother to prevent the Cipherologists from killing one of them.

Whixh teaches the kids at a young age, they can’t act as two different people because individuality is dangerous. However that doesn’t stop the kids for wanting to be themselves and not act as one person.

There is one person who can tell the difference between the two of them and that’s Shermie.

Stanley is takes up lying and acting on the fly naturally, while Ford makes a whole chart on how they should and shouldn’t act.

The twons end up escaping but not without casualties, Shermie gets left behind. But with this traumatic incident, they aren’t able to get over it .

Ford longs to be himself, to not have play damage control for whenever Stanley does something on the fly with their identity’s. But the two feel safe pretending to be one person. Even if it slowly sparking resentment in the background.

And something like the perptursl motion icident happens but something much worse.

If the timeline is in a downward spiral, Ford would step in before Stan's life was ever actually in jeopardy. So, with that said, in this situation Ford would straight up get to Stan before the man who smelled of rot ever could, buying him from Filbrick and whisking him away to one of his bases in a different dimension.

The fact that a cult worshipping Bill was involved would make Ford twitchy and paranoid, but he wouldn't just leave the twins to their grim fate. Honestly, he'd probably freak Stan out with how spastic he was due to sleep deprivation and fear that he would encounter Bill.

The next hurdle would be getting Ford from the cult, which Ford 419"3 would accomplish by barging in in order to get them all in one place. He'd snatch Ford and sedate him for his own safety before using the modified memory gun to kill the cult members by making them forget literally everything, from their name to how to breathe.

The final step would be reuniting the brothers, letting them get accustomed to each other's presence under his watchful eye before he relocates them to their dimension and having them raised under the McGucket's care (idk where Caryn is at this point, but if the cult had Ford than she's probably dead right?). Ford would alter all their memories to make it seem like the twins had been adopted by them as toddlers.

Ford would also leave a sizable chuck of money for Fiddleford, Ford, and Stan, putting it into separate accounts that they would be able to freely access once they turn eighteen. Ford would also set up a monthly deposit to help the McGucket's feed and clothe the two extra kids they now had due to Ford.

Basically, Ford would act as a sponsor for Stanford, Stan, and Fiddleford until the twins were adults (since Fiddleford is older then them and would get access to his account first), which is when the McGucket's would get one final deposit to help them live out the rest of their lives in comfort.

[hyvyinjie]

JUST LIKE A DREAM.

TW! manga spoilers.

bittersweet! wistful.

t. muichiro x gn. reader.

HE FOUND HIMSELF ENSNARED IN THE RAPTUROUS EMBRACE OF A PLAIN, UNADORNED NOTEBOOK. its pristine pages beckoning him to whisper tantalizing secrets.

seating himself in the seiza style-his limbs folded gracefully—he wielded a quill like a maestro's baton, while his other hand languidly cradled his cheek-a solitary pillar of repose in the vast expanse of contemplation.

with a sigh of resignation, he embarked upon the wondrous dance between ink and parchment.

...hey.

he paused, his countenance adorned with a mask of impassivity, concealing a tempest of thoughts within.

why, he mused, did he feel compelled to extend his greetings to a humble sheet of paper?

yet, a flicker of ephemeral memory flickered through the corridors of his mind—a faint echo that whispered of customs and courtesies, of beginnings and origins.

though he found himself adrift in the enigma of it all, he yielded to the notion that a simple "hello" would serve as the key to unlock the labyrinth of his newfound routine.

anyways..

that butterfly lady gave me this.

i don't know why, she just did.

he blinked, his brows ascending with a subtle grace, as a revelation had alighted upon his consciousness like a silken butterfly.

i don't know why, she just did.

actually, i do.

she gave me this because she said that journaling..

it'd help me with my memories somehow.

if i recall correctly..she told me to write down anything i figured is worth noting, saying it'll help me 'treasure' it or something.

as he neared the culmination of his literary pilgrimage, he sighed yet again, his breath a gentle zephyr that whispered secrets to the dull room.

whatever. it doesn't matter.

the final words dripped like honey from his quill, an offering to the vast expanse of time and oblivion. yet, even as he penned the denouement of his day, a knowing knowledge clung to his intellect—one he had unfortunately grown accustomed to.

i'll forget about this, anyways.

on the contrary—to his own astonishment—he found himself ensnared within the confines of familiarity, as if destiny had conspired to recreate the tableau of days past.

an unexpected sense of accomplishment fluttered within his being, though he nonchalantly brushed it aside, for its allure held no sway over his seemingly impassive demeanor.

wow.

this again.

never thought i'd actually come back to this.

i guess that person was just so weird that i instantly went here subconsciously.

and yet—a query lingered, teasing the fringes of his consciousness.

how did he manage to recall the precise location where this artifact had been bestowed? his gaze faltered, searching the surroundings with an air of detachment, even as his countenance remained stoic and unyielding.

alas, pondering the intricacies of remembrance proved an exercise in futility.

the answer—it seemed—resided in the glorious mist of poorly scrapped away details.

in reality, for—in a moment of abandon-he had actually just left this vessel exposed upon the very table that bore witness to its initial unveiling.

with that profound comprehension nestled in the recesses of his clouded mind, he simply blinked before returning to the task of diligently jotting down the words he had momentarily paused, delicately inscribing the words that had eluded him mere seconds ago—fully aware that they would soon inevitably slip from his memory.

a pensive cloud descended upon his countenance, casting a shadow upon the dainty tapestry of his thoughts.

his brows, like twin sentinels of vexation, furrowed once more, mirroring the tumultuous musings that swirled within the depths of his mind.

speaking of which, what's their deal anyways?

he simultaneously pondered, his memory a fragmented mosaic that teased the edges of his recollection. who exactly was this vexing interloper that had managed to impede upon his path? the tendrils of remembrance danced just beyond his grasp, tantalizingly close yet frustratingly distant.

bothersome brat getting in the way like that.

the realization dawned, an ember of understanding amidst the haze. it seemed that this individual, by the mere virtue of their skills, bore the mark of a fellow demon slayer. though their intentions remained obscured, he acknowledged that their presence, even as an ally, posed an inconvenience.

yet, he couldn't help but acknowledge that the situation would have been far more dire had they been an unsuspecting civilian thrust into the fray.

"had I not intervened, you would've gotten hit instead."

the echo of their words reverberated within his mind like a daunting scene, conjuring a vivid portrait of their visage. a flicker of irritation danced in his eye, an involuntary twitch that betrayed his lingering frustration.

at least that weirdo refrained from whining and coercing me into helping them seek the aid of that butterfly lady.

even still—a veil of perplexity settled upon his thoughts, shrouding his mind in a haze of bewilderment. the actions of that imbecile confounded him, defying all logic and reason. how dare they insinuate that he lacked the agility to evade the blow? and even if he hadn't, was it not just another day, with the ebb and flow of danger an ever-present companion?

furthermore, the question lingered like a specter; why did they possess such fervent concern, enough to willingly absorb the impact intended for him? a cynical frown danced upon his lips, for he harbored a deep-seated suspicion that their motivations were rooted in a desire to don the mantle of heroism.

ordinarily, such trifling matters would have been dismissed with a mere shrug, relegated to the realm of inconsequential distractions.

and yet, that singular event, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, sent ripples coursing through the depths of his being. it stirred a dormant fire within him, kindling a smoldering embers of annoyance that refused to be extinguished.

the enigma of their actions gnawed at his consciousness, an incessant itch that demanded his attention. why did their interference provoke such a visceral reaction? what lay beneath the surface of his irritation? the answers eluded him, concealed in the murk of his own introspection.

eventually, a flicker of relief danced upon his countenance, as if a gentle breeze had brushed away the creases of consternation etched upon his features. for, in this fortuitous moment, salvation arrived in the form of ginko, his loyal companion, his assigned kasugai crow.

entering the room through the open window with a graceful flutter of ebony wings, the avian harbinger announced his imminent departure towards yet another mission, a clarion call that whisked away the tendrils of disquietude that had begun to take hold.

had he been pondering for that long?

he blinked, extending a hand adorned with purposeful gentleness, he bestowed upon ginko a few aimless caresses to the sleek feathers that adorned the crow's head. a momentary respite amidst the chaos, a fleeting connection between two souls bonded by the trials of their shared endeavors.

and then, with a seamless transition, his expression reverted back to its stoic neutrality, a mask of detachment that shielded the depths of his thoughts.

his gaze, once adrift and almost forgotten, refocused upon the near-forgotten notebook that lay before him—its pages, blank with very few words but brimming with the promise of untold tales, unlike before—it now beckoned him with an irresistible allure. who’s to say that this encounter, this outpouring of his thoughts upon its parchment, would be his last? the question lingered, suspended in the air, as if the notebook itself whispered of secrets yet untold.

however—a hint of exasperation tinged his thoughts once more, a testament to the minutes squandered upon this wearisome endeavor. the weight of time wasted settled upon his shoulders like an oppressive burden, threatening to drown him in a sea of regret. had that butterfly lady bestowed this upon him merely as a means to pass the hours in such a pitiful manner?

what’s with everyone pissing him off lately? a disapproving click of his tongue resounded, accompanied by an inward huff of frustration, as if to dismiss such thoughts as inconsequential.

yet, even as he brushed aside the notion, a lingering seed of doubt remained. the origins of this diversion, this seemingly trivial pastime, stirred a restlessness within him. but he swiftly quelled the rising tide of contemplation, for there were matters of greater import to attend to.

with a languid motion, his hand lazily fell back to his side, a symbol of resignation to the inevitability of his next mission.

ginko—ever attentive—observed his movements with unwavering focus through her beady eyes.

as he rose to his feet and walked away without a word, she hastened to follow, a silent guardian ensuring he treaded the correct path this time.

perchance, had he paid greater heed—he would have discerned the inadvertent significance he ascribed to that encounter.

possibly, if he could decipher his emotions amidst the shroud of negativity, he would come to comprehend the profound influence this ostensibly unavailing—or so he perceives it to be—undertaking continues to hold within the recesses of his hazy recollections.

a sense of weariness pervaded his being, his form slouched over the table in an exhausted posture. his arm, draped atop the surface, cradled his lower face in a gesture of weary surrender.

heavy-lidded eyes, devoid of their usual sharpness, stared blankly at the notebook before him, its pages a repository of familiarity and untapped potential.

his restless fingers found solace in the quill, an instrument of creation and expression. yet, instead of purposeful strokes, they engaged in aimless fiddling, a subconscious act of seeking comfort in the familiar. the quill danced between his fingertips, its weight and texture grounding him in the present moment.

as time trickled by, his hand slowly maneuvered with deliberate relaxation.

the quill hovered mere inches above the pristine expanse of the paper, its poised tip a conduit for the thoughts that swirled within his mind. the ink droplets within the quill began to fall, each one a testament to the passage of time and the stillness that enveloped him.

then, with a leisurely descent—the quill found its mark upon the page, leaving behind a trail of ink as he transcribed the words that lingered in his thoughts. beginning another silent conversation between the depths of his mind and the blankness of the paper.

if i had known that i’d be assigned with that idiot on the mission, i wouldn’t have even waited for their arrival.

eh. i guess they were somewhat useful..for baiting the demon.

the words upon the page bore the unmistakable mark of apathy, as if they had been woven with little to no effort. lines connected words haphazardly, yet he remained unperturbed by their disarray.

a mere blink was his response to the warm embrace of the rising sun's rays streaming through the window, causing him to momentarily shield his eyes. his lids fluttered, adjusting to the light.

shifting slightly, he raised his head, casting a glance towards the window. the sight of the morning's arrival beckoned his attention, a gentle reminder of the passing hours that had slipped away unnoticed.

would you look at that... it's morning already, and i haven't even managed a wink of sleep yet.

a yawn escaped his lips, an involuntary reflex brought forth by the weariness that engulfed him.

craning his head to the right, he raised a hand, fingers reaching out to massage the tense muscles at the back of his neck. the physical sensation provided a fleeting respite from the mental strain that weighed upon him.

tearing his gaze away from the luminous frame of light, his attention returned to the page before him.

the letters—now seemingly slid onto the page without care—formed words that appeared smudged or messy. yet, his response was one of detached observation, his eyes trailing along the inked lines as if merely skimming their surface. his mind adrift in a sea of fatigue and contemplation.

a wistful breath escaped his lips, carrying with it a tinge of reflection. to think that in the end, he found himself aiding them, joining forces with those he once regarded with a mix of skepticism and reservation. vague memories of their coordination and shared battles flickered in his mind, a testament to their surprising competence.

irony hung in the air, as he ever-so begrudgingly acknowledged the decency of their skill, granting them the credit they deserved.

but to say that he still harbored a grudge would be an overstatement. time had a way of blurring the sharp edges of resentment, softening the sting of past grievances.

he had moved on—or at least strived to do so—simply because he no longer wished to expend mental energy on such affairs.

of course, the reasoning behind their initial encounter still eluded him. the circumstances that had brought them together remained shrouded in mystery, a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into the larger picture.

yet, despite this lack of understanding, he had chosen to extend his assistance.

it was a matter of reciprocity, an unspoken agreement that demanded the return of the favor. they had aided him, and so he, in turn, had done the same.

but let it be known that his actions were certainly not born out of deliberate intention. it wasn't a calculated decision to seek their gratitude or favor. no, he had been driven solely by his sense of duty, a commitment to vanquish the demon that had threatened their lives. their expressions of gratitude that followed were—in his perception—unwarranted and unnecessary.

don’t get him wrong, it wasn't a matter of rejecting their appreciation out of disdain or arrogance. it was simply a matter of perspective. he saw his actions as obligations fulfilled, his purpose aligned with the task at hand. the gratitude they offered was an unexpected byproduct, an outcome that held little significance in the grand scheme of his mission.

unbeknownst to him—his head gradually dipped lower, a subtle surrender to the weight of exhaustion. his eyes, utterly heavy with weariness, would occasionally flutter open, a futile effort to rouse himself from the encroaching grasp of sleep.

but little did he know, there existed a vast realm of his true intentions beneath the surface of his consciousness, waiting to be explored, waiting to unveil its secrets—a landscape of an undiscovered reality and hidden depths lay dormant, longing to be discovered.

yet, in his current state, he remained oblivious to the elusive wonders that lay within.

oblivious to the possibilities that awaited him, he continued to battle the encroaching embrace of sleep, unaware of the treasures that could be unearthed once he relinquished his conscious hold.

but perhaps, in due time, the mist would lift, and he would come to realize the vastness that lay hidden within, embracing the unknown with open arms and truly delving into the depths, and alas reaching a benevolent understanding of his own subconscious.

soon enough, he found himself absentmindedly twirling a petal between his fingers as he entered the room. his focus remained fixated on the delicate blossom even as his hand closed the door behind him, and even as he made his way towards the mirror.

gradually, he lifted his gaze, his eyes settling on the flower crown adorning his head. the sakura petals, masterfully intertwined, caught his attention, their beauty captivating his senses.

with an almost contemplative look, he then raised the petal he held to eye-level, keenly studying its intricate details.

of all people, who would have thought he'd be adorning something as whimsical as this? it seemed that over time, through some inexplicable force, he had found himself repeatedly crossing paths with an individual he had once deemed a nuisance.

bizzarely, he discovered that he often engaged in small conversations with them—or rather—they spoke while he found himself lost in his own thoughts as usual, staring at the wispy clouds.

however, that habit of his had not lasted long with them.

he recalled a time when he unexpectedly began sparing a not-so discreet glance for the person who stood beside him, whilst internally pursuing his own musings while they carried on with their activities.

perhaps it was because he secretly wished for their presence to vanish? he had made his feelings abundantly clear, even voicing his desire to be rid of them. yet, they stubbornly persisted, undeterred by his dismissive attitude.

and so, he had resigned himself to their constant presence, reluctantly accepting the fact that they would be a part of his daily life.

today, it was he who stumbled upon them—a reversal of their usual encounters.

he couldn't help but note the uncharacteristic silence that enveloped them, a departure from their usual chatter.

enveloped in a realm of heightened intrigue, his inquisitive spirit awakened. his gaze, like a wandering star, was drawn to the focal point that held their rapt fascination.

with an arched ascent, his eyebrows mirrored his amazement. majestically poised, a resplendent tapestry unfolded before him—a bountiful cherry blossom tree, its branches bedecked in resplendent blooms. the sakura petals—akin to balletic maestros—pirouetted gracefully through the air, composing a symphony of ethereal enchantment.

in that instant, he comprehended the rationale behind their entranced stare. the vision of the grand cherry blossom tree, its delicate petals dancing with elegance, possessed an irresistible charm that surpassed his customary indifference. it stood as a tableau of organic marvel, another spectacle capable of evoking a latent response within him, even if he had not fully embraced it until now.

blinking in a manner reminiscent of an owl, he returned to the present moment.

ultilizing both hands, he delicately removed the flower crown from his head. unusually, he handled it with an exceptional tenderness, treating it as though it were a fragile treasure he was determined to preserve with utmost care.

however, inexplicably, he decided to place it adjacent to his notebook. then, his attention shifted back to the petal he had held throughout the entire process, and a subtle downturn of his lips coupled with a slight furrowing of his brows betrayed his disappointment.

the petal appeared slightly crumpled... perhaps he should have focused on it first before removing the crown?

his head instinctively tilted as he contemplated the past. unbeknownst to him, the fact that he was investing such reflection into a... gift—as they had claimed it to be—went entirely unnoticed.

an idea flickered to life within the recesses of his mind, though it may not have been grand in scale.

with a sense of purpose, he resolved to safeguard this newfound notion within the pages of his trusty notebook instead of just noting them down much like the previous, yet now said to be countless of times he did so. it wasn't that he had no intention of exploring the idea further; rather, he held a silly belief that by preserving the delicate petal within its confines, he would be able to summon fragments of today's events whenever he cast his gaze upon it.

it was, undoubtedly, a risky endeavor.

the transience of memory and the fragility of moments made such attempts at preservation inherently uncertain. yet, undeterred by the potential pitfalls, he was determined to give it a try.

there was a spark of hope that momentarily alighted within his ever-so dull eyes as he carefully placed the petal between the pages, allowing it to find its place amidst the inked words and scribbled thoughts.

in his mind, the notebook was like a vessel of recollection, the doorway through which he could access the essence of that particular day.

with each passing glance, he believed he would be transported back to the sights, sounds, and emotions that had colored his experience. it was a belief steeped in a touch of magic, a genuine desire to capture the essence of fleeting moments and keep them alive in some tangible form.

of course, he understood the inherent risk of such an endeavor. memories could be fickle, subject to the passage of time and the distortions of perception—that he knew all too well, yet, he couldn't resist the allure of the notion, the tantalizing prospect of preserving a piece of today's events within the pages of his notebook.

thus, he closed the notebook—sealing the petal within its protective embrace. only time would reveal whether his whimsical idea would bear fruit. but for now, he carried a glimmer of anticipation, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, he had found a way to capture the essence of the present and carry it with him into the future.

one day, on the verge of departing for the swordsmith village, he found himself casting a final glance around his room.

as his eyes scanned the space, they landed upon a particular object resting undisturbed on the table, alongside a vibrant, circular rosy crown. yet, his gaze lingered upon the sight of the flowers, a momentary pause in his preparations.

was there something he was forgetting?

he brushed off the thought, convincing himself that it was nothing of importance.

or was it?

perhaps a faint inkling nagged at the back of his mind, suggesting that there was more to it than he initially believed.

without realizing it—he was drawn across the room, his steps guided by an unseen force.

he found himself crouching down near the designated area, his hand reaching out to flip through the pages of his notebook. however, his action was halted as his eyes caught sight of a roseate petal nestled within the notebook's pages.

curiosity sparked within him, and he raised an eyebrow as he gingerly plucked the petal from its sanctuary. absentmindedly, he twirled it between his fingers, a gesture that felt oddly familiar, inducing a sense of déjà vu.

but where had he witnessed such a scene before?

as he pondered, a realization dawned upon him. It wasn't a memory of witnessing someone else engage in this action; rather, it was he himself who had performed it.

a surge of recollection washed over him, memories resurfacing from the depths of his mind. the twirling of the petal, the sensation between his fingertips—these were gestures he had made before, though their significance had slipped from his conscious grasp.

In that singular moment, the forgotten fragments of his own past intertwined with the present, weaving together a tapestry of connections that transcended time.

recognition dawned upon him with a sudden clarity. it was from that day—the day where a sensation so tender and poignant stirred within him, almost like a bittersweet ache, evoking a warmth that eluded his understanding, leaving him unable to grasp its true essence.

the memory resurfaced, vivid and potent, as he held the petal in his hand. it was a symbol—a relic that carried the weight of a significant moment, a moment that had shaped him in ways he had yet to fully comprehend.

as his gaze shifted between the delicate petal and the floral circlet, he couldn't help but acknowledge their significance. they were gifts, given to him by that same person whose presence had once been a source of annoyance, but had since become intertwined with his life in ways he never anticipated.

a subtle flicker of a smile danced across his features, fleeting yet unmistakable.

it was a ghost of a smile, evoking a sense of warmth and nostalgia. just like that very same day, beneath the sakura tree.

after a few more contemplative moments, he gently placed the petal back within the pages of his notebook. it was an act imbued with a renewed sense of curiosity and introspection.

as he carefully tucked it away, he recognized that this petal held more than just a fragment of his present—it also served as a tether to his past.

standing up, he straightened his attire, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed during his moment of reflection.

leaving the room behind, he stepped forward, his footsteps carrying him away from the familiar and towards the villa—yet, as he ventured forth, he carried with him the knowledge that within the depths of his own experiences, there were secrets waiting to be unveiled. these hidden truths, veiled within the recesses of his own identity, held the potential to guide him closer to understanding who he truly was.

muichiro’s brows knit together, his eyes narrowing slightly as he winced, perusing the passages he had penned not long ago—but in that period, he found himself at the nadir of his existence, akin to a vessel housing an empty soul, where the flicker of life seemed to wane within him.

immersed in the depths of his own written words, a wave of self-critique washed over him. the realization of his perceived deficiencies bore down heavily upon his psyche.

was my prose truly so lackluster?

his countenance contorted into a visage of melancholic discontent. he couldn't help but introspect on his conduct and acknowledge the impoliteness he had exhibited. it pained him to recognize the echoes of his late twin brother within himself, bearing the burden of both his loss, and their shared flaws.

a tinge of remorse lingered as he ran a hand through his hair, grappling with the repercussions of his actions.

yet, amidst the remorse, his spirits gradually ascended as he reminisced on a separate recollection—the instant when he emerged from his coma, their unwavering presence by his side.

that memory bestowed a glimmer of solace, softening his somber expression. they had been dumbfounded, incapable of containing their emotions upon witnessing his awakening.

in that fleeting moment, they had clung to him fervently, as if he were their vital lifeline. though their embrace—much to his dismay—had swiftly slackened upon realizing his frailty, the impact of their initial response eternally etched in his consciousness.

reflecting upon that juncture, a smile graced his lips. he held no remorse for his instinctive reaction to embrace them, despite his own corporeal anguish.

a gentle flush tinged his cheeks as he sensed that familiar flutter in his heart, impelling him to tilt his head inquisitively.

“that feeling again...” he mused—this time, aloud—as he rose a hand to the region where his heartbeat, almost amplifying with its errancies—resided. his gaze descended, fixated upon that enigmatic yet captivating feeling. curiously pirouetted in his eyes, a pure and guileless yearning for comprehension.

he contemplated the prospect of unraveling the enigma at the butterfly mansion, where he might unearth the veracity behind this inexplicable sensation.

maybe, it was naught but a lingering malady, an unseen affliction that had eluded his awareness. he mulled over the displeasing notion, recognizing the imperative to illuminate the puzzle that lay dormant within him.

little did he fathom the profundity of what lay ahead, the intricate tapestry of emotions and connections that awaited him.

if only he comprehended the significance of that flutter in his heart, the profound impact it would wield upon his odyssey.

several weeks had elapsed, and once more he found himself clutching his notebook, as if it were an extension of his being.

resting against the wall, he clasped the item firmly in his grasp, his gaze wandering towards the window as he settled into a seated position. with his knees drawn up to his chest, they formed an improvised tabletop, providing a stable surface for him to write on.

the room was bathed in the spill of moonlight, bestowing upon it a tranquil luminescence that infused the scene with ethereal allure. positioned at the precipice of the empty page, his quill poised like a delicate dancer, he sensed a surge of anticipation welling within him.

it had been a while since he had last visited the notebook, let alone written in it.

initially, this realization held a tinge of sadness. however, he began to view it as a form of success—a testament to his growth and progress—he no longer needed the notebook as a vessel for his memories, as he had learned to hold them within himself without the fear of them dispersing from his mind.

although he had been reluctant to let go of the notebook in the beginning, fearing that he would regress to his former self, he gradually grew accustomed to relying less on its pages. this change was thanks to a certain someone who had provided him with remarkable encouragement and support along the way.

speaking of that someone..

a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reminisced about the unfolding events.

at long last, he had mustered the courage to convey his heartfelt gratitude to them for rescuing him on that fateful day of their initial encounter. in retrospect, he finally recognized how his own negativity had obscured the fact that his concern and guilt had driven his actions, leading to harm befalling their well-being.

with the weight of unexpressed appreciation lifted from his shoulders, a profound sense of contentment and relief settled within him.

it felt really good.

and relieving too. i’m glad to finally be able to appreciate them properly now.

the words resonated within him, echoing the profound impact this newfound expression of gratitude had on his relationship with them as he lowered his quill onto the waiting page, he began to write, capturing the essence of his gratitude in ink. the words flowed freely, a testament to his newfound ability to express his appreciation and to cherish the moments that had led him to this point.

in that quiet room, with the moon as his witness, he continued to write, allowing his emotions to spill onto the pages, creating a tangible record of his gratitude and the growth he had achieved.

naturally, he expressed his gratitude to shinobu as well, for she was the catalyst that set the entire endeavor in motion.

however, he couldn't deny that his experience with that particular individual had left a deeper impact on him, resonating within his being in a way that he couldn't easily dismiss.

we made origami today.

was if their first time? i wouldn’t believe it at all if they said yes, they did amazing.

the corners of his mouth lifted even further, a radiant smile spreading across his face. pride swelled within his chest as he reminisced about the moment when he, much like they had done beneath the sakura tree during the day—left his creations with them as a souvenir—a heartfelt gift.

his eyes fluttered, lids half-lowered, as his smile softened. the memory of their laughter resonated in his ears, a joyful sound that echoed through his mind. it was a honeyed melody, harmonious and timeless, etched into his memories like a cherished tune he would never grow tired of.

in that moment, he felt a deep sense of connection and shared happiness. the blossoming of their laughter and their appreciation had filled him with a profound sense of fulfillment.

i made them laugh, their smile truly is adorable.

i want them to stay happy.

an undeniably childish wish.

..i wanna be the reason they do.

a selfish, yet reasonable desire.

i could just say it outright, but...

his thoughts trailed off, contemplating the words he longed to express.

his heart swelled with a mixture of emotions, and yet, there was a hesitancy that held him back. the idea of openly conveying his yearning to be their source of joy brought forth an inexplicable feeling, a blend of anticipation and seldom vulnerability.

with a heavy sigh, he leaned his head back, seeking a moment of respite.

however, to his dismay—he misjudged the distance and inadvertently hit the wall with more force than intended. the impact elicited a wince and a deadpan expression as a wave of discomfort washed over him.

“ouch..”

rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, he closed one eye, gritting his teeth in response to the pain. regret filled his thoughts as he berated himself for not considering the consequences of his actions.

"just why didn't I take that into consideration?" he muttered, a tinge of frustration evident in his mellow voice.

it was a momentary lapse, a reminder of the fallibility that resided within him. the physical discomfort mirrored the emotional unease he felt, a reminder that expressing his feelings came with its own set of risks and uncertainties.

no, he had abandoned his initial notion of visiting the butterfly mansion to have his ‘condition’ assessed. as due to being one of the hashiras, it was now his duty to train the lower-ranked individuals, aiming to help them awaken their own marks while enhancing their abilities.

in essence, he found himself devoid of the time needed to pursue his plan. although it was indeed a missed opportunity, he chose not to dwell on it excessively.

besides, none of his attributes seemed to have weakened, so he simply disregarded the occasional peculiar sensation blooming in his chest whenever thoughts of them arose, dismissing it as a mere figment of his imagination—a hallucination.

he let out a resigned breath, a sense of acceptance washing over him. his hand fell back to his side, but as he blinked, his gaze followed a petal as it slipped out of his notebook's grasp, gracefully descending onto the floor beside him.

his mouth formed a small "o" of surprise, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. he blinked thrice, processing the unexpected turn of events. however, his features soon softened, morphing into a tender expression as he retrieved the fallen petal.

solicitously cradling the delicate leaf between his fingers, he twirled it once more, marveling at its beauty. the petal really did hold a certain allure, captivating his attention and stirring memories within him.

"it’s as beautiful as i remember..” he whispered softly, a touch of nostalgia coloring his voice. in that simple petal, he found a reflection of past beauty, a reminder of moments that had touched his soul.

as he held the petal, he couldn't help but reflect on the transient nature of beauty and the fleeting nature of time. just like the petal, moments of beauty come and go, leaving only memories behind. yet, in that fleeting beauty, there is a sense of profound appreciation and wonder.

while the world could be cruel, he yearned to bask in the fragments of ephemeral glory and find joy in the fleeting moments. he’s now understood that life was a continuous stream of passing experiences, and he made a conscious effort to cherish each and every memory that crossed his path.

in the midst of this realization, an idea sparked in his mind—a realization that he had never written about the day beneath the sakura tree.

how had he overlooked such a profound and cherished memory?

a surge of exhilaration and eager anticipation flowed through him as he envisioned immortalizing that extraordinary day within the sacred confines of his notebook. the memory, a veritable trove of exquisite beauty, served as a poignant emblem of life's fleeting nature and the timeless significance of shared experiences.

with a determined resolve, he opened the notebook to a fresh page, his quill poised to bring the memory to life through ink. the sakura tree, with its delicate blossoms fluttering in the breeze, held a significant place in his heart. it was a sanctuary of beauty, a haven where he had experienced a profound connection with another soul—with them.

….

as the final words pirouetted gracefully upon the page, he tenderly closed his eyes, his velvety lashes caressing his cheek in a delicate dance. in this ephemeral interlude, he granted himself a stolen breath, a cherished opportunity to savor the essence of the memory once more. the day spent beneath the resplendent sakura tree had been etched with profound artistry upon the sanctums of his heart, and now, like a cherished relic, it had found its eternal dwelling within the cradle of his notebook's pages.

a contented smile graced his visage as he delicately sealed the notebook shut, its once blank canvases now adorned with fragments of his existence—a treasury of treasured recollections.

on that day, they looked exactly like a dream—all i’ve wanted, all i’ve ever needed.

the parchment succumbed to the deluge of your cascading tears, becoming drenched and sodden, as if thirstily drinking in the sorrow that overflowed from your heart. with a poignant gaze, you traversed the final passage, each word a painful reminder of the bittersweet victory that had come at the cost of his absence.

weariness weighed heavily upon your eyes, threatening to seal them shut, yearning for respite from the harsh grip of reality. your trembling lips contorted, caught in a delicate dance between joy and sorrow, forming a wistful smile that held the essence of longing. in the sanctuary of your other hand, cradled with tender reverence, lay the very petal you had once bestowed upon him. under the caress of the sun's gentle rays, it gleamed like an iridescent gem, casting a luminous glow that illuminated your tears, turning them into shimmering crystals of anguish.

geto, one of the many sentinel who had witnessed the entwined trial of your beloved and tanjiro, could offer naught but a humble bow, his head lowered in utmost deference. he understood the futility of his desire to provide solace through an embrace, recognizing the unfathomable depths of the pain that gripped your soul. as you clung tightly to the notebook he had dutifully delivered, he stood as a silent witness to your inconsolable sorrow.

in the realm of young love, tragedy often unfolds with a poetic grace.

like a tapestry woven from wisps of a dream, your intertwined forms swayed in the breeze, as if caught in the ethereal embrace of destiny. and as the wind whispered its gentle secrets through the tendrils of your existence, the memory, forever enshrined, would reside as an indelible impression within the chambers of your collective memories, transcending the boundaries of time and spanning an unfathomable infinity.