#motherofthering

[ahhvernin]

Day 3: Spell

@motherofthering

Mother makes the best pies.

[gameoverbakura]

A beautiful and fruit filled pie finds itself on Ryou's window sill, still warm and wrapped in a box. A note placed lovingly on top of it, just tucked under the ribbon used to decorate the box so the note remains sealed, signed, and delivered. If and when he opens the note, a short and sweet note is revealed. 'I know I haven't been around and I'm sorry. You've grown up to be an outstanding young man. I'm proud of you. Please enjoy this pie, Love, Mother'

He might’ve still been on the fence about the whole mother thing, but…

“… O-oh…”

@motherofthering 

[thiefkingyall]

“I may have baked way too much… so…” she gives him a small nervous smile handing him the pan of freshly baked brownies. The glass pan still warm, “Here. I hope you like them,” her nervous smile widens as she taps her nose. “And I expect the pan back.”

//hello hi Momkura is gonna feed your boy.

((OMG I’m gonna cry?!?!?!?! These look so good?!?!?! vbrehalbgvb!!!!))

@motherofthering

He blinked, eyes wide as he was handed the dish. Was this... for him?? No one had ever made him food before just to... make something for him. He felt his chest tighten up in a weird clenching discomfort that he couldn’t exactly put his finger on.

“Mmm~” he mumbles, holding his hands out for it, its warm against his scarred palms and he looks up at her. He frowns for a second before beaming a large smile at her, the most he’s probably ever allowed himself to show her. He steps forward, placing his hand on her head and bumping his forehead against hers before he steps back and wanders off to devour his treat.

[sinistering-blog]

@motherofthering

He couldn’t believe it. His father had been lying to him this whole time. His mom was alive, and so was his sister apparently. Quietly he stepped off the plane of the airport, arriving in his home town, a place he hadn’t been since the accident... Letting out a harsh breath as he tried to calm his nerves he glanced down. What would they think of him? Being an occult loving former host of a psychopath? Who was currently living his own life, and glad to have their shared apartment alone for a few weeks.

Climbing down, his small hand bag slung over his shoulders as he glanced about, noticing the sign with his name and quickly approaching. Nervously grinning. Pastel shoes, white pants, dark long sleeved shirt with a pastel pink sweater over it, and his hair up in a ponytail. He hoped he didn’t look too out of place...

❛ ....Mom?  ❜

[this-solitary-host]

                                              -Four years ago-

     Ryou carried the carnations carefully as he made his way down the familiar path- soft and green, thankfully unlike the cramped grey cemeteries inside the city. It was an hour’s trip each way by train, not that he minded the ride, as it gave him ample time to work on his Monster World campaigns, and he hardly ever bumped into kids from school leaving the city.

   A gentle rain had settled in last night, washing everything clean. The ground was dry now but the worn stone graves seemed glad for the attention, free of the years of dirt that spoke of families that had long forgotten them.

   Despite the calm atmosphere, the reason he was here today left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Still, he hadn’t made up his mind yet- so he could console himself that there wasn’t a reason to be worried.

   He came to the group of graves that belonged to his family, noting that the flowers he had left the prior month had been cleared away, nothing left to rot. He faintly wondered how recently his father had been there as he deposited the flowers into the large stone urn that was part of his mother’s grave, freeing his arms.

   A smile played on his face as he moved to the second grave. “Calm down- I didn’t forget you!” He grabbed the bag slung over his shoulder and produced from it a chain of small yellow and white flowers entwined with tiny leaves, clearly somewhat worse from the journey. “I grew them myself. The new apartment actually has a balcony I can grow things on, and I thought you’d like to see them .” He draped the chain around the statue of the guardian that stood watch over his little sister. “I hope you and mom have been doing well? I know you’re not going to like why I’m here today, but please try to be reasonable about it.”

   He returned to the bag, and to his mother’s grave, placing sticks of sweet-smelling incense upon it, kneeling and bowing his head in a silent prayer.

   He checked for people nearby before speaking, his voice  barely a whisper, “I need to ask you something...” He took a breath before his words came spilling forward, “I’ve been doing some…research and I think I might know a way to bring you home.” a pause “I know- it’s probably nonsense, but what if it’s not?” He was suddenly aware just how empty the area around him had grown. The Ring tucked under his shirt felt too warm against his skin. He leaned forward until his forehead brushed the headstone, closing his eyes. “I think I have what I need now to make it work.”

   He didn’t need an answer to know that his mother didn’t want him messing with black magic. “But what choice do I he have?”  he thought.  Besides- with the Millennium Ring in his life, he felt he had very little reason to still fear the darkness. This was what had driven Ryou’s interest in the Millenium Items in the first place. If they could still bring Spirits from death, then maybe there's still a chance they could call Mother back too.”  At least this is what he told himself.

   He checked for people again before producing a knife and a small muslin pouch from his bag. Before setting to work cutting away at a patch of grass until he could dig his fingers into the cool wet earth beneath. “Please, forgive me.” His cupped palms moved handfuls of the grave-dirt into the pouch, before slipping both pouch and knife back into his bag quickly before anyone could notice him. He stood, placing a now filthy open palm on the grave marker bowing his head again, “I just…want to see you again.”

                                                -Later that night.-

Though he had showered and changed into his nightclothes, his bedroom currently offered very little in the way of rest. He’d been so wrapped up in trying to figure out what he actually needed for the ritual to work that the amount of his bed that wasn’t taken up by the ancient looking book of magic was covered in crossed out and underlined notes on translations he had paid someone with actual training in Latin to make for him. It had been like this for more than a week, with the boy simply collapsing beside his work at night. At least his father hadn’t been in town to complain about it. He reviewed the translated list of ritual components again and decided it was time to gather the last element he would need.

   He approached the family shrine in his home, opening the wooden doors carefully. As he smiled at the last photo his family has taken together, guilt for what he was about to do filled his stomach again. He took out a small wooden box he had carved lifting from it a simple silver necklace, which had been given to him by his father as a young child. It housed a small amount of his mother’s ashes, and on one side the words: “Never forget you are loved” were engraved. He had kept it with him for many years before the Spirit had made keeping anything too precious on his person a risk. He closed his fingers around the token and held it close to his heart for a moment before silently steeling his resolve.

   He returned to his room and started arranging everything on his desk, which had been cleaned of all his model making equipment and covered with a clean cloth. Three white candles sat along the back of the desk and in the center sat a stone bowl around which he arranged the ritual components in a semicircle, then encircled once more by a mixture of salt and crushed herbs, filling the room with an almost medicinal scent.

   He was repeating the words to the ritual in his mind as he worked, certain he had the words memorized but only half as certain of their pronunciations.  He focused entirely on the words as he opened his desk drawer, retrieved his hobby knife and slotted in a clean new blade before setting it to the side.

“Yadonushi…”

   The voice in his head broke his mental repetition briefly, but he returned to his task as he started to light the candles, intent on blocking out the intrusion.

He emptied the soil into the bowl, trying to envision the outcome he wanted to achieve. That wasn’t difficult, the image of his mother’s face was still as fresh in his mind as if he had never lost her.

   The Ring was glowing now. Again, he was aware of its heat. Though it was meant as a warning it did nothing to scare him. Instead, he felt emboldened him to push forward, assured that at least the magic of the item was active if only he could control it.

“Stop this.”

   Ryou held the image if his mother steady in his mind, trying to imagine the energy resonating from the Ring enveloping her image as picked up the words, trying to match the cadence he had built up in his mind.

“Corpore de mater inque

Solis aram perferre atque adolere”

   He carefully twisted off the threaded bail of his cremation locket hesitating only for a moment before pouring the contents into the bowl.

“Ex cineribus et in astra“

   The Ring was hot enough to burn his skin now, though his voice did not waver -he could feel his hands were shaking. He knew he needed to move fast before the Spirit took control of his body.

   He reached for the blade beside him, and with as much fluidity as he could manage, placed the blade on his ruined left palm. Having already decided that if something went wrong, he would prefer not to damage his good hand.

   The edges of his vision had started to blur. He drew the blade across his skin sharply, opening a new gash across the long-healed scar. He braced for pain, but it didn’t come.  The knife clattered to the floor and he was now aware he was losing feeling in his limbs. He could still move his hands-sensation or not.  He made a hard fist to encourage the blood to travel into the bowl. Bracing the weight of his failing body against the desktop with his now free right hand.

“Sanguis sanguinis mei”

   His words were slurred now, and there was a sharp pain in his head, about to drag his mind into the darkness. He focused all his remaining resolve on speaking the final words.

“Ex cineribus renascor”

 With that- he allowed the Spirit take over. The last thing he would be able to recall was not the sensation, but the sound of his body falling onto the wooden floor.

[For @motherofthering .]

[cannibalmariku]

For being so nice and cute, copy this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful! 💖 💕 💖

( Thank you! Like i said I don’t really do these kinds of things anymore but I still appreciate it! ;w; ) 

[swingbakuraryou]

For being so nice and cute, copy this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful! 💖 💕 💖

((Thank you mother!)

[demonicringspirit]

"What's in your mouth? What do you have in your mouth!?"

eyes locked onto hers as he let the burnt steak fall from his mouth. “Steak what did you think it was?!”

[impassionedhearts]

@motherofthering.   continued !

“Shhh.“ She pets her daughters hair and in a stage whisper. “Don’t fight my love.“ Noting the squirming but the clear as day grin Amane’s trying to hide. She goes in for another attack of kisses, on her nose, on her cheek, on her forehead. Amane is now pelted with kisses of a mother, and totally is covered in her mom’s pale lipstick.

she  has  a  split  second  before  her  mother  smothers  the  teen  in  kisses,   captured  in  a  firm  grasp  and  amane  squeals  and  curls  in  on  herself,   trying  to  escape  the  kisses  to  no  avail.      ❝   no  fair  --  go  and  kiss  one  of  the  boys  instead !   don’t  be  lame !   ❞      they’d  probably  all  ran  out  of  the  house  --  traitors.     she  was  putting  lizards  in  their  beds  later  on.      finally  scrabbling  free  of  her  mother’s  embrace,   amane  wipes  off  some  of  the  pale  lipstick  with  the  sleeve  of  her  school  blazer.

[weddinggift4you-blog]

Excited to share the latest addition to my #etsy shop: SET Personalized EMBROIDERED wedding handkerchief, mother gifts,mother of the bride gift, Grandmother, wedding handkerchief, gift for her #weddings #weddinghandkerchief #handkerchief #handkerchiefwedding #bridehandkerchief #bridegift #motherofthe #motherinlow #embroideredhankie https://etsy.me/3byI5KJ https://www.instagram.com/p/B8igjR8hBIu/?igshid=1956lojb22zc3

[canyonembroidey]

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[gameoverbakura]

Ryou? Are you alright dear?

“Y-yeah. I’m... I’m fine.”

[thiefkingyall]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🍒🍒

// AHHHHHHHHHH it’s been so long since I’ve seen you around! I’m so glad you’re back! ❤❤❤ pshhhttt, I’m not intimidating, you know meeee 😘

[sinistering-blog]

@motherofthering

❛ Girl tried to hit on me that had a boyfriend... a big one. Jock for something. ❜

Bakura spoke up angrily leaning forward and pushing Ryou back. ❛ He punched Ryou, so I beat his face in. Or at least tried, if those tossers hadn’t held me back. Self defense all the way! ❜

❛ It would of been self defense if I had taken care of it! You could get pressed! ❜ ❛ That big idiot won’t even think of it. Someone two times smaller than him beating him black and blue? He’d tell his parents it was a bunch of thugs! ❜

[this-solitary-host]

After a moment they reach the reading nook that overlooks the city, the chairs that were full of patrons now being left as the rain slowly stops. She guides Ryou into one of the chairs and kneels in front of him.

“Honey? Are you okay?” Her voice drops to a ghost whisper and her expression worries. Mentally she hits herself, ‘looks like you’ve seen a ghost!’ Yeah no dip. You’ve been dead to him for more than ten years.

   Ryou allowed himself to be guided along, his mind to far away to protest. The woman’s arm around him felt so warm and real that he curses himself that his memory could still reconstruct her voice just as she sounded when he was a child.  

   By the time he dropped into the seat, he was trembling, and mindlessly his hand came forward to touch her face, searching for anything to remind himself she wasn’t real before she was torn away, or apart, in whatever sick game his mind was playing on him.

  She was too young, apparently, his mind could only create her as he recalled her.  But, her eyes were different, more tired or wiser, he couldn’t tell.

 His thumb traced her cheek briefly, his voice was a hardly a whisper, as if he could speak to her softly enough for the creature controlling this dream not to hear him.  “Mom, I know, there’s-no way it’s really you.. but I wish....it was.”

[swingbakuraryou]

@motherofthering

I saw this book at Wal-Mart and thought of you. There’s even a point where Bunny runs off, gets lost and both are calling for each other.

It’s cute stuff.