#tentative mimi tag

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

Part 25

part 24

part 26

warning: smutty, handjob, Kurapika plays with Readers pussy, Reader gets injured by Kurapika, coma, SH(Kurapika doesn’t let himself eat or sleep after you get hurt), violence, reader kills someone and gets traumatized, vomiting

A/N: EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO BUG FOR HELPING SO MUCH WITH THIS CHAPTER!! A lot of the part where Killua tries to comfort reader was written by Bug!!

taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah @themanicwriter01

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(Name) woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing on her nightstand. She tried to move, but noticed Kurapika sleeping next to her, his arms wrapped around her and face buried in her chest.

The sight made her heart race and she would prefer to stay like this forever… but she couldn’t. “Pika, wake up. I’ve gotta answer my phone.”

He groaned a little, only nuzzling into her chest harder like a needy child, his arms tightening around her waist. “Five more minutes…”

She sighed, glancing at her phone before laying back down and planting a kiss on the top of his head. Sleep took her again, the world around her fading away, the only thing keeping her grounded was the feeling of Kurapika’s touch and warm breath against her cleavage.

An entire hour passed before she felt Kurapika stir next to her, his blonde hair tickling her chin. “Mmph…”

His leg rubbed against hers as he sat up, a soft pink on his cheeks from the warmth of being nestled between her breasts. Kurapika’s morning wood was evident in his pants, and he hadn’t even realized yet. “Good morning…”

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, (Name) scooted closer, wrapping her arms around him. “Thanks for getting me to bed last night, my back would be killing me if you left me on the couch.”

Kurapika nodded, leaning into her touch. He was still sleepy, taking in her gentle affection happily. “No problem, angel…”

His eyes shot open when he felt her hand on his chest, her lips against his cheek. “Pika, look down.”

He did as told, his face flushing red when he noticed the tent in his pajama pants. Kurapika pulled the blanket up to his torso, embarrassment clear on his face. “I-I’m so sorry, it happens when I wake up sometimes-“

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s natural, I understand.”

He blushed when she began to tug the blanket back down, her eyes on the bulge in his pants. “Kurapika?”

His breath hitched in his throat, his voice coming out husky. “Y-yes?”

She placed her hand over his tummy, slowly trailing down. “Can I… touch you?”

He felt like he was going to explode, his cock leaking precum all over his boxers with just the thought of her touching him. “You… touch me?”

“Mhm.”

She rested her hand on his thigh, leaning against him. Fuck, he could cum from her being so close and just insinuating that. “Lemme help you feel good, Pika.”

He could only nod, kicking the blanket off of him so she could have better access to him. (Name) smiled, placing her hand over his bulge. Kurapika let out a gasp, already panting.

“Oh? Does that feel good?”

She played with the waistband of his pajama pants, leaving kisses on his neck. “Tell me what you want, Pika.”

He whined a little, his head feeling fuzzy. (Name) wanted to touch him, and god he was still processing that. “Please… please touch me…”

(Name) cooed softly, slipping her hand down his pants and into his boxers. When her fingers grazed his length, he let out a sharp gasp, bucking his hips in her hand. “Mmph, (Name)!”

She kissed his neck as her fingers wrapped around his length, gently stroking him. “Pika, you’re so hard… my poor baby~”

Kurapika bucked his hips into her hand, his face a deep red, his eyes scarlet. “(N-Name), fuck…”

He felt like his could cum already, but didn’t want to cum all over her hand within a minute of her jerking him off. Kurapika didn’t want her to think he was a pathetic mess!

He tried his best to hold back, gently fucking into her hand as she left love bites on his neck. Kurapika whimpered, moving closer to her, his eyes begging for some comfort and reassurance. She obliged him, using her free hand to grab his chin and kiss him.

He whined into her mouth, his tongue dancing with hers desperately. “Please… please!”

She cooed, moving her hand faster and brushing her thumb against his tip. “Shh, shh, you don’t want anyone to hear you begging like that, do you? Guess I’ll have to keep you quiet.”

She tapped her finger against his lip, and he opened his mouth immediately, sucking on her fingers to keep quiet. “That’s my good boy, you’re doing amazing, Kurapika.”

Her gentle praise was making his cock twitch in her hand. He was so close, and with some gentle sucking on his neck he was cumming. It was the most intense orgasm he’d ever had, his hips bucking out of control and soft moans leaving his lips. (Name) had to cover his mouth, continuing to stroke his cock to let him ride out his orgasm.

(Name) pulled her hand from his pants, looking at him as she began to lick his cum up. “Mm… you taste nice, Pika.”

He took a moment to recover, his head thrown back as he panted, his hips lightly bucking on their own. Whne he looked back at (Name) finally, his eyes were different, they were hungry.

“Pika, would you like a snack or a bath-“

Her attempts to offer aftercare were cut off by him pinning her to the bed, his lips crashing into hers. Kurapika used one hand to keep her wrists pinned above her head, and the other to tug her pants down, leaving them hanging around her thighs. “Fuck…”

She was wearing a pair of white cotton panties, a little wet patch growing in center. He nudged the patch with his finger, causing her to mewl. “Pikaa! P-please!”

He hummed, dipping back down to kiss her again, his tongue prodding against her lip. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue explore her mouth again as his fingers slipped into her panties. (Name) gasped into his mouth when his finger found her clit.

Kurapika had completely turned the tables on her, and she was at his mercy. He cooed down at her, moving to her neck to give her love bites of his own. “So pretty, angel…”

He could tell she was we getting close by the way she was lifting her hips into his hand, letting go of her wrists to grope her breasts through her shirt. “G-gonna cum, ahh!”

Fuck, his cock was growing hard again. He was making her feel good, he had her underneath him, squirming and moaning. This was everything he had imagined and more.

She came, holding onto his arm as she stared into his eyes, moaning out his name. “K-Kurapika! Pika! Pika!!”

He captured her lips again, slotting himself between her legs and grabbing the waistband of her panties. He didn’t care if being with her was bad, if he might leave one day, all he could think about right now was how much he loved her. Kurapika wanted to make love to her, bring her to the brink of pleasure and fill her up with his cum. He wanted to get her pregnant, wanted to hold her hand as he pounded into her dripping-

RING! RING!

Kurapika didn’t look up, continuing to kiss her and tug at her panties. (Name) opened her eyes, trying to turn her attention to her phone, but Kurapika turned her chin back towards him. “Ignore it, just focus on me.”

She whined into the kiss, gently pushing at his chest. “J-just a second, I need to check who’s calling.”

Kurapika scowled, but relented, letting her grab her phone. He sat back, trying to calm his racing heart as she glanced at the contact.

He noticed her face grow pale, and heard her curse under her breath. “Shit, sorry I have to take this.”

Kurapika’s frown only deepened, and he grabbed her wrist. “Is it really that important?”

She sighed, gently pulling away and walking out into the hallway as she tugged her pants back into place.

He watched, feeling his heart thump painfully against his chest, and his cock throb. Kurapika moved the hand he used to touch (Name) into his pants, using her juices to jerk off as she left to talk on the phone.

——————

“Chrollo, I told you not to call me when I’m home.”

She had walked outside, a cardigan hurriedly pulled on to keep her warm from the chilly morning air. The man on the other end laughed, and it only pissed her off.

“Oh, how unkind of you, (Name). And here I was, calling you to inform you that your target was in town.”

Her eyes widened, and she had to stop herself from yelling out. “H-he is?”

“Yeah, you can tell your little boyfriend now.”

(Name) looked down at the ground, remembering when Chrollo first told her the targets name.

FLASHBACK

(Name) placed the last bandage on Feitan, sighing softly. "Okay, you're good to go, Fei.

The dark haired man grunted in response, pushing himself off of the bed and walking out. ".. thanks."

She swiveled her head to see if he'd really thanked her, but he was gone. Instead of Feitan, Chrollo stood in the doorway, his usual suave smirk on his face. "I see you've finished up your duties, (Name)?

Chrollo leaned against the wall, watching her as she packed up. "Duties? What are you, a vampire from the Victorian era? I did my job, and now I'm leaving."

As she began to push past him, Chrollo spoke up.

"Leaving so soon? I thought you'd want to know where to find the next set of scarlet eyes."

She paused, glancing at him. "Just tell me, l'm not here to play games with you."

He laughed, handing her a slip of paper. "Here's the name of your next target."

Before (Name) could excitedly text Kurapika, Chrollo snatched her phone. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, (Name)."

"Hey, give me th-"

He handed her the phone back. "If you tell your little boyfriend the information now, he'll be on the next train to track this man down."

(Name) pouted, placing her phone in her back pocket. "No he wouldn't, we have plans for Halloween."

"Do you think he cares enough about your silly little plans to stick around when he could be completing his goals?"

She sighed. “I really regret venting to you."

Chrollo smiled. "Mhm, but am I wrong? What happened the last time he got a crumb of information?"

She looked away from him, clutching the fabric of her shirt. He took this as her acceptance of the situation and continued talking. "Besides, that man will be coming to your area in early November. It would be a shame for him to fly out to find the man, only to have to fly back to follow him."

Chrollo patted her shoulder. "You sure are patient, (Name). You're doing all of this for him. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly has he done to earn such loyalty from you?"

She didn't respond, walking past him and out of the room.

FLASHBACK END

“He’ll be in your town until this weekend. You should hurry and tell your little boyfriend.”

“He’s not-“

She was about to correct him, but then thought back to just a few minutes ago. Kurapika had been about to slip her panties off, getting ready to…

“Hmm? He’s not what?”

Chrollo seemed amused by your hesitance, but decided to cut you some slack. “Well, I assume you are busy, since it took me calling you several times for you to answer. Goodbye, (Name).”

He hung up without another word, leaving (Name) standing in her driveway, rethinking the events that led her to this.

‘What… what am I to Kurapika?’

———————

(Name) walked back into her room, shrugging off her cardigan and yelping when Kurapika grabbed her wrist and tugged her back into bed. He was on top of her within seconds, trying to pull off her shirt. “W-wait! We can’t, I have some news!”

“It can wait.”

He threw her shirt to the side, moving to unhook her bra next. “It’s about the scarlet eyes!”

Kurapika’s hands stopped, his fingers underneath the band of her bra. His eyes darted to hers, the scarlet slowly fading into the soft brown that she loved. “… you have new information on the eyes?”

She nodded, watching as he sat back up, moving off of her so she could pull her shirt back on. “Yeah, the person I just got off the phone with said a person with two pairs of the eyes is in town.”

The blonde sighed softly, the tent in his pajama pants still evident, but going down. “I see…”

He seemed a little shy now, glancing at her as he scooted to the edge of the bed. “We should… get ready then. Do you have their location?”

“Yes, they’re staying in a hotel uptown. We can sneak into their room and steal the eyes while they’re gone.”

Kurapika stood up, his cheeks a little pink. “Alright. I’ll meet you downstairs in 15 minutes.”

The two parted ways, (Name) going to take a shower, and Kurapika hiding away in his room to calm down his body and heart.

They met in the living room, both now dressed and calmed down. Things were a little awkward, but (Name) smiled and held onto his hand. “Okay, I told Leorio we’d be leaving. He’s a bit hungover but he’ll watch the kids.”

Kurapika squeezed her hand, his mind drifting back to their intimate moment earlier.

The drive uptown was mostly quiet, Kurapika keeping a possessive hand on her thigh. It was a subconscious act, something he wasn’t aware he was doing. “Kurapika…”

The blonde looked up, seeing (Name) glancing at him from the drivers seat. “I… Pika, what are we?”

Kurapika froze, his grip on her thigh tightening slightly. He didn’t answer, his head turning to stare at the window before he retracted his hand. “I don’t know what you mean.”

That was a lie, he knew exactly what she meant by that, but he didn’t have an answer.

She frowned. “I mean what is our relationship. Obviously we’re more than friends, for gods sake Kurapika, your hand was in my panties! I jerked you off!”

His face turned impossibly red. “I… I don’t want to talk about this.”

(Name) blinked in surprise. “Huh? Do you mean at all, or just not right now?”

“I don’t know!”

She flinched when he yelled, the blonde immediately regretting it. “(Name), I…”

“No, it’s alright. I… I understand.”

Kurapika looked back, his eyes widening when he saw the look of defeat on her face. She was gripping the steering will tight, as if trying to keep her tears from falling by sheer force alone. “It’s a okay, we… don’t have to… be anything. I’ll still…”

‘Does she… does she think that I’m trying to use her for sex?’

“(Name)… it’s not like that, I promi-“

“Please, stop. Don’t… let’s just focus on the mission.”

He stayed quiet, cursing himself for being so stupid. Kurapika promised himself that he’d try to clear things up later.

Unfortunately, the mission wouldn’t go smoothly enough for him to do such things.

——————

Kurapika and (Name) arrived at the hotel, posing as a couple renting a room. It was harder for her to play his partner this time, especially after their conversation on the way there.

The blonde seemed to notice this, trying his best to both give her space and play his part. Kurapika walked up to the counter to rent a room, letting (Name) wait in the lobby for him.

It was moments like these that made (Name) crave a relationship. She’d liked Kurapika since the Hunter Exam, and her fair share of fantasies about him. Some of them were sexual, but most were rooted in the desire to be with him.

She imagined holding his hand as they walked with their friends to look at Christmas lights, sharing kisses when no one was looking. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her he loved her too and would never leave her again.

God she didn’t want him to leave.

The thought of him only wanting her for sex made her feel awful, but if it meant he would never abandon her again, she would fulfill that role. These feelings, these thoughts weren’t healthy, but she didn’t know if she could take him leaving her. Not now, not after she’d fallen in love with him again.

‘I… I’m in love with him…’

Before, this thought would will her with butterflies and make her heart soar, but now it only filled her with dread. She cared about him, but Kurapika wasn’t someone that was easy to be in love with. He got himself into danger, he had severe anger issues and trauma that he held onto desperately. She didn’t even know if he wanted to heal, to settle down with her and find peace.

“(Name)? I got the room.”

He paused in front of her when he noticed tears falling down her face as she stared off into space. “Angel…”

He crouched down in front of her, cupping her cheeks and using his thumbs to brush her tears away. “What’s wrong, angel?”

(Name) blinked, seemingly snapping out her thoughts. “Huh? Kurapika?”

Kurapika stayed in front of her, his touch tender and gentle. “You… you were crying, (Name).”

“I was?”

She lifted her hand to touch her cheek, seeing that her finger was damp. “Oh… I guess I was.”

(Name) wiped her face and took a deep breath. “Never mind that, let’s get those eyes back.”

The two stepped into the elevator, (Name) glancing at her phone. “My informant said he’s on the 5th floor, room 301.”

Kurapika nodded and pressed the button for the 5th floor. The blonde attempted to start idle conversation a few times, but (Name) stayed quiet, her eyes focused on the ground.

“… it sure is cold outside, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

It was cold outside, but it was freezing in the elevator. (Name)’s warmth didn’t seem to reach him like it usually did.

The blonde cleared his throat, glancing at her. Even now, his mind was racing with the memories of their intimate moment earlier that day. They’d been so close to actually having sex, and now it seemed like the distance between them had grown so much that he wasn’t sure how to speak to her anymore.

‘I do want to be with her, but… I…’

Admitting that out loud was the hard part. Being with her, allowing himself to love her was an inherently selfish act. Just being in her life put her in danger, loving her, making her someone that was important to him could get her killed.

His thoughts were interrupted by the elevator doors opening, and before he had time to think (Name) was pulling him out by the hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

Kurapika followed her, and although he was still a little nervous, he couldn’t help but find comfort in the warmth of her hand.

——————

(Name) and Kurapika peeked around the corner, glancing at the room that held the scarlet eyes. “Okay, let’s think of a plan. I could sneak in through the-“

She turned to look at him, but he was already walking towards the room. “Kurapika!” she whisper yelled. (Name) was quick to follow after him, grabbing his sleeve when he stopped in front of the door.

He pulled his around away with a bit more force than necessary, breaking the handle off the door as he opened it. “We don’t have time for that, this is our only chance. The owner of the eyes could get back at any moment.”

She should have known he’d act like this, he always did when it came to the scarlet eyes. (Name) didn’t answer, only sighing. “I can’t see, where’s the light switch…”

She felt along the wall, finding the switch and flipping it. Light flooded the area, revealing a man sitting in the center of the room in a leather chair.

“Hello, ladies.”

(Name) screamed, jumping into Kurapika’s arms as the man calmly stood and stretched his leg. “… have you just been sitting here in the dark?”

“That doesn’t matter, why are you here?”

Kurapika held her close for a moment longer, almost as if he was trying to seek and give comfort before setting her on her feet. He kept a protective hold on her as he eyed the man, his gaze sharp and focused. “… we’re here for the scarlet eyes. Are you the owner of them?”

The man before him blinked, tilting his head towards the desk. On it set two pairs of the eyes on a stack of papers. “Oh, you talking about them paperweights? I thought you were here to take something important.”

Kurapika’s jaw clenched, (Name) having to grab his sleeve to prevent him from attacking.

“The boss bought those a while ago. Damn rich people, he thought it would show how well off he is to buy something so expensive just to use them as a paperweight.”

The man picked up a pair of the eyes, turning it around for a moment. “Tell you what, the boss barely even remembers he has these. I’ll give them to you, for a price.”

This is the outcome Kurapika had been hoping for. The blonde opened his satchel and showed the man it’s contents. It was stuffed full of money, enough to leave the man well off. “Is this enough?”

The man rubbed his hands together, laughing. “Oh yeah, that’s plenty. Come on, I’ll hand you the eyes, you hand me the money.”

Kurapika nodded, waiting for the man to pick up all of the eyes before he approached him.

The blonde paused for a second as he made eye contact with one of the pairs. (Name) could sense a shift in his mood, his heart thumping wildly, loud enough for her to hear. She caught him staring into the scarlet eyes. ‘Is that pair… special?’

It made her even more determined to help him tiger the pair, and she gently nudged Kurapika forward. He gave her an appreciative smile for her support before continuing on his way.

“Honestly, I’m glad to be rid of the nasty things. The boss brings them almost everywhere, they’re freaky looking. I bet whoever they belonged to were monsters.”

(Name) winced, knowing what was coming. It all happened so fast. First, Kurapika’s eyes turned a deep scarlet, but it seemed he was unaware of it. They hadn’t planned on seeing anyone, so he’d forgotten to put in his contacts.

The man’s face dropped, his eyes widening in fear as Kurapika moved to attack, the man doing the same. By doing this, he let the eyes fall from his grip.

(Name) rushed forward, barely making it in time to catch the eyes and roll out of the way as their battle began. The man attacked Kurapika with his nen, making the blonde jump back. Kurapika spared a glance in (Name)’s direction to make sure she and the eyes were okay before he summoned his chains.

She set the eyes in a safe position before readying herself to fight. Before she could move forward, Kurapika yelled out. “Don’t come closer, stay back!”

(Name) huffed, standing guard in front of the eyes as the two battled it out.

“How dare you call them monsters! They were murdered in cold blood blood, their eyes ripped from their skulls! They did this to everyone, to children!”

(Name)’s heart ached for him. His voice was cracking, his eyes filling with angry tears.

“Kurapika…”

She tried to move forward to comfort him, but he pushed her back. “I said STAY BACK!”

She went flying, her arm catching on the sharp end of a table. It ripped through her sleeve, leaving a gash on her upper arm. Blood dripped onto the floor, the smell causing Kurapika to freeze.

This small moment was enough for the man to get the upper hand, kicking Kurapika in the chest as the blonde dealt his own punch to the man’s face. They were both sent sprawling to the floor, (Name) rushing over to kneel at Kurapika’s side.

“F-fuck, I heard something crack.”

Kurapika’s breathing was uneven, his hand tenderly running across his chest. “Kurapika, shit, I think he broke a few ribs!”

She activated her nen, holding her hands over his chest to begin healing him. “This is going to take a lot of stamina to heal, we’ll have to get the eyes and-“

“No, no we have to take him down!”

(Name) stared down at the blonde, feeling him try to sit up. “Kurapika, what the hell are you thinking? Let’s just retreat while we still c-“

“HE CALLED MY PEOPLE MONSTERS, (NAME)!”

She flinched, recoiling slightly. Kurapika sat up, coughing up blood. “I’m activating emperors time. Just get the fuck out of my way!”

“No!”

Kurapika paused, whipping his head around to glare at her. “No? What else can we do? He needs to die, I can’t-“

She pushed him back into his back, continuing to heal him. “Just give me a damn second! There… there is one thing I can do, and… and I’ll do it if you stay still and let me heal you, but-“

“Then do it! Do it now!”

The man was approaching them, his cheek and eye swollen. As he reached out to try and attack (Name), she grabbed his wrist, concentrating her nen there.

Kurapika watched as the man writhed in agony, the flesh on his arm turning purple, then black as it rotted away before turning into dust. It spread up to his shoulder before stopping, the man screaming and falling to the floor, tears falling down his face as he writhed.

Kurapika sighed, leaning back to relax. The man wasn’t a threat like that. “Ah, nice job (Name). You really-“

He looked up to see her lip bleeding as she bit into it, her face scrunched up. Kurapika could still feel her nen coursing through his body to mend his broken ribs. As soon as he was healed, she let out a scream, falling to the ground and writhing in pain.

“(NAME)!?”

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she wailed, her back arching. (Name) began to tremble, her body twisting in agony.

“(Name)! Please, what’s wrong? I-“

The sound of multiple sets of footsteps running down the fall made him pause.

“Hey, I think someone broke into the boss’ room!”

“Call back up!”

Kurapika cursed under his breath. “(Name), we have to get out of here! I’ll grab the eyes, and…”

She wasn’t answering, still sobbing as she clawed at the ground, her fingernails breaking and bleeding. When she couldn’t do that, she grasped her arms, her nails puncturing her skin, her chest heaving. “No! No stop!”

He pinned her arms down, using his chains to restrain her. Kurapika felt his chest tighten, his eyes darting to the hallway. (Name) couldn’t move in this state, how would he be able to get her and the eyes?

‘I… I can only take one…’

He glanced between her and the eyes, cursing to himself. Kurapika knew what he would pick, his eyes filling with tears.

He exited through the window, leaving something precious behind.

——————

The underground room’s lighting was dim, the air smelling musty and damp. (Name) was wearing her work uniform, glancing to the doorway before turning her attention to the creature in front of her.

“You’re not getting past me. I have a baby to protect,” she said cooly, letting her nen surge around her. The creatures claws glinted into the low light, it’s form being revealed to her.

It was mantis like, but colorful and pink, almost like… a flower. As it crept closer, (Name) could hear it muttering something. She felt her eyes go wide, terror overtaking her heart.

“No… no it can’t be!”

Sun filtered in through the window, shining down on (Name)’s sleeping face. She grunted in discomfort, her eyes shooting open.

(Name) panted softly, the nightmare still fresh in her mind. Right after the Chimera Ant incident, she had frequent nightmares about what went down in that underground room. Although the nightmares became less with time, they came back when she experienced severe stress.

That’s when the memories of the event came back. She attempted to sit up, but couldn’t. (Name) glanced around the room, calming down slightly when she realized she was in a hospital room. To her left there was a bouquet of flowers on a table, along with a basket of her favorite snacks and toiletries.

She smiled, knowing that Leorio had to have been the one that got it for her. Who else knew that she had a love for (snack)?

When she looked to the right, her eyes widened slightly. Sitting in a chair next to her bed, leaning over to look at her was Kurapika. There were bags under his eyes, and his hair was an absolute mess.

When he saw she was awake, his breath hitched, eyes filling with tears. “Y-you’re awake!”

He squeezed her hand, lifting it to his cheek so he could fully feel her warmth. The past few days, she’d been cold, much too cold. Now, she was warm, her pretty (e/c) eyes looking at him in concern.

“K… Kura…”

Her throat was hoarse, and she was struggling to speak. Kurapika jumped in his seat, s quickly walking over to a small mini fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “Here, you’ve been out for several… several days.”

He lifted her head, letting her sip slowly. The water helped to soothe her parched throat. Kurapika’s hand was a little shaky, so some water dribbled down her chin, making her shiver as it slipped under her shirt.

He pulled the bottle back, capping it before setting her head back onto the pillow. She blinked slowly, still adjusting to the bright light of the room.

“The… the eyes… did…”

Kurapika was silent, his foot tapping against the floor as she spoke. “… you passed out, and I had to carry you so no, I couldn’t get the scarlet eyes.”

There was a hint of resentment lacing his words, and she couldn’t help but feel bad. Although she’d been trying to help him, she still ended up being the reason he couldn’t recover the eyes.

“I left the eyes behind because… of you.”

‘It’s your fault.’

The words went unspoken, but (Name) knew what he meant. Kurapika’s face was pained, and she could remember the look of agony in his eyes when they met with one of the pairs of scarlet eyes. There had been something special about that pair, and she could tell he was upset.

“Now… now we won’t be able to get the eyes. They’ll be on high alert, making infiltration next to impossible.”

Kurapika put his head in his hands, letting out a sigh of frustration. (Name) looked away, gripping the hospital blanket keeping her warm.

“Why… why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me about the condition you placed on your nen?!”

She flinched when he yelled at her, her lip quivering. “I-I tried to tell you when-“

“(Name), you should have told me way before we were in a life threatening mission! Jesus Christ, you could have died!”

(Name) stared at her blanket, sighing. “… and?”

Kurapika blinked, absolutely flabbergasted at her nonchalant attitude. “And..? (Name), you-“

“Why are you mad at me? Why didn’t you get the eyes?”

“Because I would have had to leave you!”

“See, that’s the part I’m not getting. Didn’t you say that if my death benefited your mission, you would let me die? You should have just left me behind…”

Kurapika stared at her, as if thinking her words over. ‘She’s not wrong, I did say that. And… and I meant it… didn’t I?’

When he was choosing between her and the eyes, the thought of leaving her alone to be captured or killed made his heart ache and his body tremble. It only took him a split second to decide. He couldn’t live without her.

And that was bad.

Part of him wanted so badly to console her, to let her now exactly how much she meant to him. But another part told him that letting himself love her, allowing her to help him and be close to him was only hurting her. So instead of giving sweet words and reassuring touches, Kurapika stood up and brushed off his pants.

“… I’m going back to the house. You’re awake now, I’ll alert a nurse on my way out. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few days.”

She watched him walk towards the door, sitting up slightly. “You’re leaving..?”

He paused in the doorway, not looking back. “… yes. Just lie back down and sleep.”

(Name)’s lip trembled and her eyes watered up as the door closed behind Kurapika. She was all alone in a hospital room, her only company the bouquet of flowers someone had left her.

———————

(Name) sat in her hospital room, munching on sugar free pudding. It tasted meh, but she was hungry.

It had been nearly two days since Kurapika left, and besides a few phone calls with Killua, she hadn’t had any company.

“I’m sorry I can’t come to see you, mom.” Killua said into the phone, his voice soft. (Name) laughed, trying to sound unbothered.

“It’s okay baby, I know going into hospitals is hard for you. Especially after…”

They both went silent, (Name) fiddling with the blanket. “… anyways, I’ll talk to you later. I’m going to take a nap before my X-ray.”

“Okay mom, I love you!”

“I love you too, baby.”

She sighed, placing her phone back on the charger. (Name) wondered who brought her charger there for her. Maybe Leorio?

A nurse knocked on the door, opening it shortly after. “Miss (Last Name)?”

(Name) looked up. “Yes?”

“You have a visitor!”

She felt her eyes widen, her heart fill with hope. She’d been so alone for the past two days, maybe Leorio or Kurapika had come to keep her company!

“Hello, (Name).”

Her face fell, a sigh escaping her lips. “… hello, Pariston.”

The man smiled, slipping into the room. He held a small planter filled with poppies, setting it next to the bouquet. (Name) found out that boquet was from Alluka earlier that day during her call with Killua, and she felt a little strange seeing a “gift” from Pariston next to it.

“What do you want?”

Pariston gave a fake pout, sitting in the chair next to her bed. “What do I want? How rude, I came here to make sure you were alright! I even brought your favorite flowers!”

(Name) huffed, bringing her cover up to her chest. “You never come to see me without a reason, and you don’t give people gifts. There’s always a catch.”

Pariston grinned that creepy grin of his, leaning his face against his hand. “Ahh, you’re not easy to fool, are you (Name)? I think you know why I’m here.”

She nodded, glancing down at her arm. It was bandaged, but her wounds were almost completely healed. “Were you the person that sent the Enhancer to speed up my healing? I thought I told you not to tell anyone I can’t heal myself anymore!”

Pariston paused, his smile fading. “Enhancer? No, I didn’t send anyone. That’s…” he thought for a moment, then laughed. “I think I know who did it though.”

“Tell me!”

“Nope~ if they didn’t tell you already, they don’t want you to know.”

The man smiled, his expression becoming more neutral. “Back on topic, you know why I’m here. You used your ability again.”

Her grip tightened on her blanket. “I did, and as you can see, the condition still works. If I use my ability against someone and it causes them pain, I experience that pain tenfold.”

Pariston nodded. “Yeah, I see that it works. You still used your ability though, and as you know, that goes against your orders.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “You aren’t the Chairman anymore, so that order is null and void.”

“It is, but Chairwoman Cheadle is going to be contacting you within an hour to reinstate that order.”

“And if I don’t agree to it?”

They stared at each other for a moment, before Pariston glanced at the poppies he brought. “You would do best to follow orders, if you value the friends you have left.”

(Name)’s eyes widened, the area around her buzzing with her nen. “… are you threatening me?”

Pariston, who had stepped out of her range smiled, heading towards the door. “You know I’m not above using threats to get what I want. Just agree to Chairwoman Cheadle’s proposal, and everything will be okay.”

And with that, he was gone. (Name) was left trembling and struggling to control her nen. As he said, Cheadle called her within an hour to make the new order.

And with her friends’ lives on the line, how could she refuse?

——————

On her third day awake at the hospital, (Name) got a phone call from Leorio. “Hey sunshine, make sure you get packed up because Kurapika and Killua will be coming tonight to pick you up.”

She sighed in relief. (Name) was on her last pair of clean panties, and was glad she’d get to go home and see her friends again.

And so she could enact her plan. “Okay, thanks for the heads up Leorio! I’ll make sure I’m all packed up!”

(Name) sighed, hanging up after a short goodbye and glancing at her phone.

‘It’s moving again…’

She sighed softly, thinking back to their failed mission. While Kurapika and the man had been busy fighting, she put a tracker on one set of the eyes, knowing that something could go awry when Kurapika’s anger entered to picture.

(Name) moved about her room, packing up her clothes and carrying her flowers and basket downstairs when she got a text from Killua saying they were on their way.

It was nearly dark as (Name) stepped out into the cold autumn evening. She watched the sunset as she waited, shivering. She wasn’t sure who packed her overnight bag, but not a single thing besides her zip up hoodie was appropriate for the weather.

She sighed in relief when the mom van pulled up to the hospital, but raised her eyebrow when it nearly crashed into a column then parked crookedly. ‘Is Kurapika drunk?’

She carried her things to the van, stopping when the drivers door opened. (Name) nearly dropped her things when Killua stepped out of the drivers side. “K-Killua? Why are you driving the van? Did Kurapika leave?”

“No, he’s at home. He didn’t leave, I left him.”

(Name) blinked, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. It was Kurapika.

She answered her phone. “Hello!”

“Killua isn’t answering his phone, he took off in the van!”

“I’m well aware. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

She hung up before he could continue. Killua was about to laugh, but she gave him a look that shut him up. “Killua, you shouldn’t worry Kurapika like that. It’s not nice.”

The white haired boy shrunk under her gaze, his shoe kicking at a rock. “Sorry, mom… I just… I just didn’t like that… you were here all alone, and wanted to come get you so we could… spend some time together….”

Her expression softened as she reaches out to gently cup his cheeks. His eyes widened, his cheeks turning pink as she leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. I… I have something I have to do before we can spend time together though.”

Killua tilted his head, watching her pull out her phone and turn it towards him. “I placed a tracker on one of the pairs of the scarlet eyes.”

Killua laughed, grinning. “Mom, you’re badass!”

She smiled back, grabbing the keys from him. “Let’s get going, Killua. I’ve got some eyes to steal.”

——————

Kurapika cursed, dropping his phone onto his bed. His foot tapped at the floor in agitation as he thought back over his last interaction with (Name). He’d left her all alone at the hospital, and just the thought of it made his chest ache.

He rubbed at his eyes, a soft sigh leaving his lips. ‘I had to leave, I… I was so tired and angry, I… I didn’t want to snap… at her…’

Unbeknownst to (Name), the blonde had stayed awake for nearly four days watching over her. He was filled with anxiety and dread, guilt eating him alive. Kurapika wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep until he knew she was okay. It was his fault this ever happened to her after all, and if he’d just listened to her explanation maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

It was almost a form of self harm, restricting his food and sleep to make up for hurting her. The gash on her arm made him want to vomit, he promised himself he’d never hurt her again, and here she was. In a hospital bed, all because of him.

But by the time she woke up, he’d overthought the situation into the dirt, his mind exhausted. He wanted to blame her, the mean and nasty side of his coming out. Before he could take out his anger and pain on her, he left. It broke his heart when she asked if he was leaving.

‘Why… why am I so agitated about not getting that specific set of scarlet eyes?’

It’s not like he hadn’t failed missions before. He lost several pairs over the two years they’d been apart, but he would usually be able to recover them. This time he didn’t know if it was possible, so it pissed him off even further.

In his heart he knew she wasn’t at fault, after all without her he wouldn’t have even been able to TRY to get the pair in the first place. He couldn’t help but almost resent her though, for being so important to him. The thought of leaving her behind made him heave, his heart ache and his body freeze.

This was what he feared, falling in love with her and being unable to live without her. That attachment was a hindrance to his mission, and he wanted to hate her for it.

But he just couldn’t.

Thinking of her, her pretty face when she slept so soundly those four days made his heart race. He could go without food, without sleep if it meant he could look at her for forever. Leorio begged him to take a break, to come home so he could rest. Kurapika said no every time, clinging to her hand.

“No, no I’m not leaving her. She’s mine, back off.”

If only he could say those kinds of things here (Name) was awake.

He cursed himself for being a coward, laying back into his bed and looking up at the ceiling. There were little glowing stars stuck up there. He could faintly remember mentioning to (Name) that staring at the stars helped him sleep when he missed home. He had fallen asleep under the starry night sky with Pairo next to him more times than he could count.

It was comforting, really. Not the stars, no, it was the fact that name hung them up there to make him feel more at home that made his heart melt in his chest. She truly was the epitome of kindness and love.

Kurapika knew he didn’t deserve her, she’d probably live a much better life with someone like Leorio or hell, even some of the other hunters like Kite or Knuckle.

But he was selfish. The thought of another man touching her, loving her made his eyes flare with a bright scarlet. He hated this possessive part of himself. In his mind, he knew it was better to let her go and distance himself as much as possible for her safety and happiness.

However, his heart was sitting in the palm of her hand. He wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. Not voluntarily.

———————

(Name) drove around town, following the tracker as Killua yelled out directions. “Turn left!”

Eventually, the tracker was blinking in the same spot, and had been for the past five minutes. (Name) parked the mom van at a random gas station a short distance away before getting out.

When Killua began to follow her, she turned quickly. “Baby, no. I’m going in alone, you can’t come with me.”

Killua frowned, crossing his arms. “Why? Are you babying me, mom? I’m an assassin, I have much more experience in this type of thing than-“

“But you shouldn’t!”

Killua paused, his eyes widening slightly. “Mom…”

Her eyes were a little teary, her lip quivering. “You shouldn’t be used to killing, Killua, and when you’re with me, that will never be your burden to bear.”

She hugged him tight, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll be back within an hour, then we’ll go get burgers. That sound good, bud?”

He nodded slowly, burying his face into her shoulder. “Yeah…”

After giving him another tight squeeze, she left, the smile on her face dropping as soon as she turned around.

(Name) shivered from the cold, glancing down at her phone to follow the tracker. It seemed it was stopped at a restaurant, a Waffle House to be specific. Was the owner of the eyes… eating at Waffle House? Why would be bring the eyes with him?

‘He’s probably all packed up to go home.’

That explanation made sense, and (Name) picked up the pace. When she got there, she followed the tracker to a black Mercedes parked in the back. She could have just used her nen to disintegrate the back of the car and take the eyes, but (Name) wanted to confront the man.

People that contributed to Kurapika’s agony needed to be dealt with. His trauma was so intense he couldn’t trust people, he couldn’t even trust her. If she was being honest, this was a good opportunity to let out all of the frustration and anger she’d been keeping inside of her.

The man walked out of the back door. He was short and stout, carrying a takeout back and talking with someone over the phone. (Name) stood by his car, silent.

The man noticed her, but seemed to not acknowledge her as a threat. He pocketed his phone, setting his takeout bag on the sidewalk. “You homeless? I ain’t got nothing for you, be on your way.”

He shooed at her, but (Name) didn’t budge. She looked up, the good of her jacket covering everything but the bottom half of her face. “You have a pair of the scarlet eyes, yes?”

The man suddenly seemed a lot less smug, reaching for his phone. (Name) rushed forward, covering his mouth and taking his phone. “Don’t. Scream, and I’ll kill you.”

She waited for him to stop struggling before she pulled her hand from his mouth. “Answer.”

“I-I do, but you can have them! Just don’t hurt me!”

(Name) stayed quiet, as the man unlocked his car and offered the eyes to her. She nearly threw up at the state of Kurapika’s family.

The containers were tipped over, the glass covered in filth. She look them into her arms, holding them tight as she gave the man a disgusted look. “You know these are the body parts of people that were once alive, right? How dare you treat them with such disregard!”

Her eyes widened at the sight of a gun in the man’s hand. She had felt it on him when she searched him a minute before, so he must of had it hidden in his car. She was too busy being disgusted over the state he kept Kurapika’s family in to keep track of him.

“Who cares, they’re dead and gone. I heard those filthy Kurtas were involved in witchcraft, that’s how they got those demonic red eyes.”

The man grinned down at her, pressing the gun into the back of her head. “That doesn’t matter, though. You’ll be joining them soon. Hell, I’ll take your eyes too. They’re a nice (e/c) color.”

As he clicked the safety off, (Name) looked into the scarlet eyes. False rumors and discrimination against anything that was different from the norm was the reason Kurapika’s family was dead, that and the human nature to take what they wanted no matter the consequences.

Before she met Kurapika, (Name) had heard the rumors of the Kurta Clan being demonic and evil, getting their red eyes from eating human flesh or killing innocents. The story was different every time she heard it, so she stopped believing in it. She remembered how people treated her differently because of how she looked and parts of her body and identity she couldn’t change. It was the reason she felt no fear when Kurapika’s eyes first turned scarlet.

She knew how kind Kurapika was, and heard the stories of his people and family. They were good, kind people, and they didn’t bother anyone. Despite hiding away from the outside world, they were still targeted and massacred. They couldn’t even live freely alone, they had to be taken out. She wasn’t sure if it was because of greed or if people were scared of them. Both reasons were stupid to (Name).

Within a flash, the gun was knocked out of the man’s hand and (Name) was on top of him, slamming her fists into his face. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”

Tears fell down her face, not of sadness, but of absolute anger. “You didn’t know them, they were people, people who loved their families and wanted to be safe and happy, just like everyone else!”

She wasn’t going to use her nen. It wasn’t even because of the order given to her by Cheadle and Pariston. No, she wanted to draw this out. This man was one of the reasons for Kurapika’s pain, he treated the bodies of the dead as if they were items to collect, items to show off to other people as if they were a prize.

Whenever Kurapika showed up at her apartment in York New, it’s when she became determined to gather the scarlet eyes to help him find peace. The way he cried and sobbed into her shirt like a child until he passed out from exhaustion chilled her to the bone.

She had seen the result of Kurapika’s nightmares, heard the gut wrenching screams of despair. She couldn’t let a person who disregarded that pain live.

She stood up, bringing her foot down onto his crotch. “You don’t deserve to live, you use your money to get what you want, you kill and order others to kill for you without any guilt!”

The man screamed in agony, but he was soon silenced when her sneaker came down on his face. Something came over her, she stomped on his face over and over, blood spraying on the sidewalk and splashing onto her face and clothes.

She kept going, even after there was nothing left of his head but mush. (Name) probably would have never stopped, but someone gently pulled her back, far enough away so that she couldn’t continue her actions.

“Mom… he’s dead.”

Killua had his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back more. She didn’t answer Killua, didn’t say a single word.

Many didn’t know this, but when he was nervous, Killua would prattle on and on. “Hey, that guy sucked. It’s good your first kill was someone that deserved ut, I wasn’t as lucky!”

He doesn’t seem to notice the way she stared at the corpse, eyes blank. “You know, for an amateur, that wasn’t half bad. You got a little sloppy at the end though. If you want it end then fast, there’s a soft spot on the skull. Going for the neck just paralyzes them. Unless you wanted to drag it out in which case, not bad.”

Once he noticed she was speaking, just staring blankly at the man she just killed, Killua went quiet for a moment. He grabbed her sleeve, pulling her away. “It’s… it’s not good to think too much about it.”

She finally looks up when crouches next to the body, using two fingers to lift the man’s sleeve. “What should we do with the body? Want me to toss his body in the lake so we can be accountable together?”

It was his attempt at a joke, trying to get his mom to laugh instead of stare blankly at the corpse below her.

“Don’t bother. Scum like him deserves to rot out in the open. Let the birds pick him clean.”

With that, he realized that killing that man has actually fucked her up. Something that completely altered her brain chemistry is just a normal Tuesday night for him.

It made his chest ache a little, but he sighed before looking down at the body, shrugging and standing up. “Alright, it’s your kill. Your rules.”

The two walked towards the van, each carrying a set of the eyes. “They’re… heavier than you’d think.” Killua said, trying to lighten the mood again.

Maybe it was the actual weight of them, or the knowledge that these eyes belonged to someone Kurapika knew and loved. Even Killua could understand the importance of these eyes, he had seen the exact same shade in Kurapika’s eyes.

After finally reaching the van, (Name) spoke for the first time since taking the man’s life.

“Sorry you had to witness that…”

Killua perked up immediately, feeling a strange since of relief that she was finally speaking.

“You got a little messy at the end if I’m being honest. But that first move was pretty smooth, and I’ve seen more red splatters in my Uber Eats bag after ordering tomato soup. If that was you, I’d give you at least 4 stars and a 20% tip.”

She froze, setting the pair of eyes in the van before throwing up onto the pavement. Killua jumped, setting eyes in the car before rushing over to hold her hair back. “Shit!”

He had been trying to help, but Killua feared he may have just ruined tomato soup for her for the foreseeable future. After she finally stopped, she coughed, shivering in the cold and looking up at him weakly.

“I’m sorry hun, I-“

“Stop apologizing already. You’ve looked after me for years, let me look after you for once. You said yourself it’s okay to need help sometimes.”

Killua left for a second, returning with some crumpled napkins she kept in the car. He wiped her mouth, then tossed the dirty napkin onto the ground. (Name) was too exhausted to scold him for littering, allowing him to help her to her feet.

She stumbled her way to the backseat, shrugging off her jacket and using it to gently wipe away any blood or filth from the cases holding the scarlet eyes.

She sighed softly. “Killua… baby…”

He looks up, seeing her taking the keys from her pocket. “Do you know the way home?”

He’s allowed to drive? Sure, he practiced before without her knowledge (or at least he thought- plus there was that time Leorio let him do donuts in the mall parking lot at night last month) but she was allowing him to drive the mom van? Even if he was going to be legally old enough for a drivers license next year anyway, it still didn’t feel real.

He just wished it was under better circumstances. Killua took the keys, nodding slowly. “Yeah, yeah I know the way.”

Killua couldn’t even be excited about getting to drive the car, because (Name)’s hand were trembling and she looked like she was going to throw up again. “I’m trusting you, Killua…”

Her trust was supposed to feel good, but right now it almost felt like a burden. Heavy. Killua took a deep breath, deciding to think of something else. He had a job to do, he needed to get his mom home. (Name) trusted him to do it.

He glanced at her, his eyebrow raising slightly at the sight of her using her jacket to cover the eyes.

“You aren’t gonna keep your jacket on? It’s 40°.”

He heard her mutter something something respect for the dead before wrapping the eyes in her blood stained jacket and holding them close to her. Once upon a time, these eyes were alive. It wouldn’t feel right to treat them as anything less than human.

(Name) curled up in the passenger seat, holding the eyes in a protective grip as her eyes stared out the window. It had began to rain, and Killua’s hand was shaking as he started the engine.

“You’re going to be freezing.”

“Turn the heat on.”

“But-“

“Killua, dead or alive this was still a person. They deserve to be able to rest comfortably.” This was the most she had spoken the whole ride home. Killua sighs.

“…okay. I’ll have to wait until a red light though, I don’t feel comfortable searching the dashboard while I’m in motion,” she hummed in acknowledgment, shivering as she held the eyes closer to her.

“We should get you a cupcake to celebrate your first kill, it was gnarly! His whole head was like a watermelon and you were all bam! POW! POP! you know?”

“…”

“Oh shit, I mean, wanna get burgers? It’s two dollar Tuesday.”

After a few minutes of silence, Killua spoke up again.

“… want me to kill the next one so we can be even?”

“No, no that’s okay. Let’s go get burgers now.”

———————

When he pulled in for burgers, it was like trying to re-establish some sense of normalcy. Like gathering the energy to brush your teeth when your best friend just died. Trying to find comfort in the mundane.

He ordered them food, even something for Kurapika, and a hint of a smile appeared on her face. “You remembered my order…”

“Of course I did, you always get the same thing! A little boring but oh well.”

Killua tapped away at the steering wheel nervously. He kept saying things randomly, blurting out things that made her nauseous or upset. He hated that he felt the need to fill the silence left between the two. It was instinctual, because when he was a child, silence either meant you were in trouble or you were about to be scolded.

And his family’s version of scolding was violent.

He knew she wasn’t in any state to cook, so grabbing burgers was their best bet. Though, Killua wasn’t sure she’d even be able to eat.

Killua sighed, and hopped out of the van. He came back a few minutes later with Kurapika running at his heels, scrambling to open the door. (Name) almost fell forward from the sheer velocity he tore it open, holding onto the eyes for dear life in case she she tumbling out. Thankfully, Killua had enough sense to push her back a little, noticing how cold she was to the touch.

Kurapika noticed her hands were covered in blood. She didn’t want to get blood on his clan’s eyes, and he knew despite never having met you, if his relatives were still around to see the gesture today, they’d be touched. Always putting everyone else’s comfort ahead of her own.

“These… they’re the… they’re the eyes I left behind.”

He pushed the hood out of the to the side just bough to read the inscription on the top for a confirmation. It’s the same number as the one the two missed last week. As sickening as it was that they numbered each of them like a rare commodity, it soothed him a little knowing he wouldn’t be stuck wondering what happened to that specific pair, especially considering how connected he felt to the pair on the left.

Without another word, he took the eyes and walked inside. Killua watched, figuring he would thank her once he put the eyes somewhere safe.

The white haired boy helped (Name) inside, sitting her on the couch. She stared at the floor, still shivering from the cold. At least, Killua hoped it was from the cold.

He waited 10 minutes for Kurapika to come out and say something, anything to (Name). She just killed someone, put herself through trauma for him.

Eventually, Killua stormed towards Kurapika’s room, throwing the door open to see the blonde sitting on the bed and staring at one of the pairs, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Killua couldn’t care less about Kurapika right now, his mother, the woman that took him in and kept him safe when no one else would was in a state of agony, trying to process the knowledge that she just ended a human’s life.

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you realize what (Name) just did to get those eyes for you?”

Kurapika looked up, wiping at his face. “She… what did she do? She’s not hurt, is she?”

Killua scoffed. “You didn’t even bother to check if she was hurt? Jesus Christ Kurapika get your priorities straight! Those eyes aren’t alive anymore, they can wait 5 god damn minutes so you can make sure the woman you supposedly “love” is okay!”

Kurapika’s eyes flashed red, his fist clenching. “Don’t act like you understand me, Killua. These eyes-“

“Shut up! Shut up and go do something to comfort her! Can’t you understand she did this all for you, that she killed for you!?”

Kurapika’s heart nearly stopped, his eyes going wide as they faded back to their soft brown color. “… kill?”

Killua nodded, his hands clenched into fists. “Yeah, and it really fucked her up! She… she stared at the corpse, and threw up on the way home…”

Kurapika moved past Killua, running down the stairs. The throw blanket that Killua had covered (Name) with lied in the middle of the floor, and he could hear the sink running.

“(Name)..?”

She was in the kitchen, bent over the sink washing a glass cup and staring into it listlessly. It was clean, and he watched her for a moment before walking closer.

He took the cup from her gently, his eyes widening when he saw the state of her hands.

Her knuckles were split and bruised and her hands were trembling. She was in pain, but it didn’t show on her face.

Kurapika almost wanted her to be angry that he didn’t immediately check on her. Anything was better than seeing the vibrant woman he fell in love with look so… empty.

He watched as she continued the washing motions, even though the cup was gone.

“(Name)…”

Tears fell down his cheeks as he gently held her hands in his, pulling him to her chest as he held her close to him. “Please… you… you didn’t have to do that for me. Why… why do you keep putting yourself in danger to help me when you get nothing in return? I… I don’t understand…”

(Name) was quiet for a moment, her eyes still fixated on the same spot in the sink. “… I love you, Kurapika. That’s… why…”

(Name) had told Kurapika she loved him several times, but this time it felt different. Her love weighed heavy on his chest, a testament of how far she would go to try and lift his burdens off his shoulders.

Leorio had been right, she was in love with him.

“No… no! No don’t love me! You… you can’t love me!”

He shook her, full on sobbing now. “Please… can’t you see loving me is only hurting you? I’m on a path that no one should follow me on, especially you! You’re…”

‘You’re too important.’

She finally looked up to meet his eyes. “I know. I’m useless, I’m too weak and I’ll never be enough for you… that’s what you wanted to say in the car on our way to get the eyes last week, isn’t it? You wanted to say you didn’t… feel the same way I did…”

He wanted to deny what she was saying, to ease the absolute agony in her eyes, but he couldn’t speak. Kurapika was choking up, his hands gripping her shoulders so tightly he knew that there would be bruises there later. Neither seemed to care.

“Kurapika…”

She pushed his hands away, walking towards the stairs. “My… my heart… this entire weak, it felt like it was breaking. I love you so much, I really… I really thought there might be a day where we could be together…”

(Name) thought about every instance where he abandoned her, berated her, left her to chase after the Phantom Troupe or scarlet eyes. Him not even checking up on her after she walked in, covered in blood and barely hanging on had been the breaking point.

“I’ve always known I could never be the most important thing in your life…”

She looked back at him, tears finally falling from her blank eyes. “But I at least thought that I was something to you. Guess not.”

Kurapika watched as she walked upstairs, his eyes wide with terror. Before he could chase after her, Killua grabbed his arm, shaking his head. “No, leave her be. She needs some time to be alone.”

The blonde’s face was still a mess, tears rolling down his cheeks. Killua wasn’t the best at comforting others, especially when he didn’t like them all that much.

But (Name) loved Kurapika, so Killua walked over to the takeout bag and handed the blonde a burger. “Here, we picked up dinner on the way home,” he said softly, looking away.

Kurapika stared down at it, feeling his heart thump painfully against his chest. Even when she was at her worst, (Name) made sure that they would all be fed.

‘I’m so fucking selfish.’

—————————

(Name) fell into a restless sleep once she fell into her bed. She was emotionally and physically exhausted, and hadn’t even bothered to take off her bloody clothing.

She tossed and turned, finally able to sleep somewhat decently a little past midnight.

(Name) hadn’t been expecting to have anything but nightmares that night, but instead of the images of the man she murdered flashing in her mind, she felt… peaceful.

A field of poppies stretched around her as far as she could see. When she looked around, she noticed she was sitting at a bench, an empty teacup in her hands.

“You’ll catch a cold, dear.”

A jacket was draped over her shoulders. (Name) hadn’t noticed before, but the air was chilly, and she was shivering. “Th-thank you…”

Warmth spread through her body, and she could feel someone sitting beside her, their leg touching hers. “You’ve had a long week, haven’t you?”

The voice was soft and feminine, a hint of concern lacing her words. A hand was placed on her leg, the person’s touch gentle, yet firm. She noticed she couldn’t turn her head to look at the person next to her, but that didn’t scare or concern her. (Name) felt strangely comforted by the woman’s presence, finally able to relax. “Yes… it was… not easy.”

“Not easy is an understatement. You’ve been under a lot of stress, forced to bear all of this pain alone.”

Tears began to fall from (Name)’s eyes. It had been difficult to contain her turbulent emotions for the past week, no, for the past two years. She felt like she just had her heart broken all over again.

“I… I love him so much… I want him to be happy, I want to give-“

The woman gently held her hands that gripped the teacup. “You can’t give when your cup is empty, dear. Let yourself be filled back up, before you try and give more.”

The teacup filled up with with a steaming, amber liquid. “Go ahead, drink. Tea is good for the soul.”

(Name) raised the cup to her lips, taking a sip. It was perfectly sweet, with a peachy aftertaste. It helped calm her nerves, and clear her mind.

The warmth of the woman’s hands caressed her cheek, wiping away (Name)’s tears. “Thank you… I-“

(Name) was finally able to turn her head to look at the woman, but all she caught was a glimpse of blonde hair and a pleasant smile.

She woke up, noticing the chill in the air. However, she wasn’t cold. (Name) was tucked under her blanket, wearing a pair of clean pajamas and fuzzy socks on her feet.

‘I wonder… who got me changed…’

(Name) began to get up, ready to make breakfast for everyone when she remembered the woman’s words.

“You can’t give when your cup is empty, dear. Let yourself be filled back up, before you try and give more.”

Instead of getting up, (Name) curled up under her blanket, texting Killua that he could either make himself a bowl of cereal or order some takeout for breakfast.

She spent the early morning sleeping in, allowing herself some much needed rest.

[reachfolk]

❥ title: my house (in which i dwell no more)

✿ tags: hurt/comfort, homesickness, themes of diaspora and displacement, lots and lots of infodumping about markarth, reachfolk & forsworn characters

❥ word count: 4.4k

✿ summary: two displaced natives of the reach—a city boy forced to flee markarth and a wilder girl who’s never laid eyes on it—find comfort in each other.

❥ author's note: title is based off this poem. i’ve taken a lot of liberties with markarth’s layout and history because i do what i want, and because i miss souq al-hamidiyah. this is kinda set in the middle of a bunch of bigger plot stuff lol, but the gist is understandable.

✿ this is a story written by an anti-zionist syrian about the emotional turmoil of living under colonialism. palestine and syria are in every word i write.

In an entirely expected turn of events, Robin couldn’t sleep.

He hated feeling bothered by something that was a near nightly occurrence. There was no sense in it. Worst of all, his efforts to latch onto something to complain about were in vain. He could blame the cold, but the tent had been covered in layers of fur and hide that could keep a snowstorm at bay. He could blame the hard ground, but he’d spent his entire life sleeping on hard stone beds, and he’d grown to prefer it over soft mattresses. He could blame the tight space in the tent he shared with Marceline, but it was all too common for them to share a bed even when they had individual rooms available.

The more he realized how comfortable the arrangement was, the more irritated he became. Because he knew all too well why he couldn’t sleep. And he really, really would rather not think about it. If he were destined to spend the night tossing and turning, then he should at least be given an itchy wool blanket. His complaints would be much more manageable then.

But the blankets were soft, and he knew that all he could point to for his sleeplessness was the state of the world. The state of his home. The state of his family.

His thoughts were blissfully interrupted by the sound of a foot stomping thrice on the stone outside the tent. With the walls made of soft furs, knocking wasn’t much of an option, and he quickly learned that this was a common alternative in Karthspire.

Grateful as he was for the interruption, he couldn’t find it in him to hide the displeasure from his face. He stood slowly, careful to not disturb Marceline as she slept beside him. A cold burst of air smacked him in the face as he stepped outside, and it only deepened his scowl.

“What is it?” He asked, his tone flat and his back slumped.

Much to his surprise, he was met with the sight of Esmeralda before him.

“Oh, uh—” He found himself impulsively straightening his posture and righting his tone. “Esme. Hello.”

She carried with her a pair of thick blankets and a nervous expression. Foregoing any greetings, she simply said, “I wanted to check on you. These furs were—uh, are Alex’s. I figured, since she isn’t back yet, her family should be the ones to keep them.”

He barely needed to consider the offer for a moment before declining. “Have you asked our parents? We’re all good here, and mother might need them more than us.”

Something about that seemed to please her as a smile made its way to her lips. “That’s what Isobel said about you,” she said. “Though she was more insistent. I don’t think she’d be very pleased if I give these to anyone else. So…” She held up the blankets again, swaying them as though that made them more tantalizing.

This time, Robin took them graciously. He knew better than to fight his mother on gestures like this, and he certainly had no intention of dragging Esme into it. “Thank you. Mimi didn’t seem bothered, but she has a tendency to run cold.”

He pulled back the entrance of the tent and gently tossed the folded blankets onto his own empty bedroll, figuring he’d cover up Marceline with one of them once he made his way back to sleep.

When he turned back around, Esmeralda was still there, watching him. Her eyes bore into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected, though he couldn’t for the life of him identify the emotion underlying it.

One could blame the cold, but he knew that the way his skin prickled had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with her.

“So…” His eyes darted from place to place, looking for something to talk about without making it all too obvious that he was avoiding her gaze. “Chilly night, huh?”

“Of course. It’s winter,” she replied dismissively. Thankfully, before Robin could chide himself for his inability to hold a conversation, she changed the subject without missing a beat. “You’re not going to sleep yet?”

“Uhm, I’d like to,” he answered, “but that’s easier said than done.”

“Walk with me.”

The suddenness and directness of the invitation—or was it more of a demand?—left him speechless. All he could do was nod in response.

When she began walking off to the side, it took a long moment for his mind to process it enough to chase after her. She was making her way over to the northwestern edge of the camp. The spot was away from the main road where any attack would likely come from, so there was less of a need for a strong patrol there. In other words, they had plenty of space to themselves.

Once he caught up, he slowed down to match her pace. “Are you having trouble sleeping as well?”

“No,” she answered, “but I like to help with the evening patrols. Nighttime is about as quiet as a big settlement like Karthspire ever gets.”

From his short time here, he could understand. Throughout the day, the whole place was as busy as the Markarth marketplace, if not more so. Of course, the city was much bigger, but it provided enough privacy to hide away from the noise. Meanwhile, in Karthspire, privacy seemed to be on no one’s mind. Sure, the tents were separate enough from prying eyes, but it was a space too small to do much else besides rest. All the other affairs of a society were done out in the open—trading, cooking, crafting, drinking, dancing, teaching, and storytelling. It was no wonder the Reachfolk were known for their loud, boisterous voices. The Wilders, at least, simply had no need for an inside voice.

“It’s the best time to go for a stroll,” he agreed as the two wandered back and forth on her designated route. “Much as I enjoy the hustle and bustle, I loved nights in Markarth. You get to hear the sounds that are drowned out by daily life.”

“What were they like? The nights in the city?” The question tumbled out of her mouth with more urgency than a casual stroll required, but she seemed not to notice the confusion on his face.

“They were… uh… pretty. As far as nights go. The view of the aurora is always nice.”

He fumbled with his words trying to find what answer she was fishing for, but she kept looking at him expectantly.

“And uh… dark?” He felt a strong urge to smack himself, but settled instead for rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I don’t know—”

“What did it sound like?”

That much, he could answer. “Humming,” he said. “The machines hum constantly. It’s quiet, and you can’t hear it when people are running around all day. Most of the time, cities sound like the people living in them. But at night, all you hear is the city itself breathing.”

“Breathing?”

She was looking at him like that again. It left a heavy lump in his throat, and he found himself suddenly very unsure what to do with his hands. But he didn’t want her to stop, and so he went on.

“Yeah, it was—at least, I think it was the lights.” As he fumbled with his words, he began to regret every moment he didn’t spend studying the Dwarven tech around the city. He tried to recall whatever he could from the bits of knowledge he’d acquired in passing. “The old lights powering the city are still running. Well, a lot of them, especially in Dryside. Not much of the old tech survived without the automatons maintaining it, but I think Calcelmo and whoever came before him were able to figure out how to keep the lights up, and we’ve been using them as long as I can remember. I think because they can all be activated with a lever. Better than having lantern lighters work each night.”

“And they don’t go out in the rain,” she added.

“They don’t,” he nodded. “It was breathtaking when it rained at night. The droplets would catch the light, and they’d shimmer in the air, all over the city.”

By then, they had stopped walking altogether, their pace slowing to a halt as Esmeralda hung onto every word he spoke. She was no longer watching the path ahead, all her attention focused solely on him.

He couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes for long before his nervousness got the best of him. Instead, he looked over to the path leading out into the night, watching in her stead.

“I used to tinker with those bulbs whenever I could sneak off to some ruin or the other as a child,” she recalled fondly. “I learned how to operate them eventually. I still leave one on when I sleep. Something about the sound of it, the glow of it. They’ve always been soothing.”

The image of a young Esmeralda tinkering with Dwemertech both delighted and impressed him. “If you like the sound of the Dwemer machines, you’d find the whole city soothing,” he said. “It’s even clearer and louder the deeper you go, but then you’d have other things to worry about.”

“Deeper..?” She mulled over the word, seeming to turn over in her mind everything she knew about the city. “Alex said the underground was forbidden and all the entrances blocked.”

“All the entrances Alex knew about are blocked.” He couldn’t help smirking as he said that. “Good to know she never caught onto me.”

“So, then… wait, wait.” She brought a hand up to her temple as she processed his words further. “Are you saying you’ve been to Nchuand-Zel?”

Much as he wanted the answer to be a resounding yes, he chose to be truthful. “Not exactly. I’ve never been to the heart of it under the Keep, but I’ve been deeper underground than the authorities would like for civilians to go.”

If that dampened her excitement at all, it was minimal. “How’d you pull that off?”

He couldn’t help but puff up with pride as she leaned in closer, drawn in by intrigue. He’d always treated this as his own precious secret, keeping it even from his own sisters. Never before had he felt the desire to brag until she looked at him like that.

“The Warrens, usually,” he answered, hoping she would not be as deterred by that fact as the average Markarth resident would. She didn’t seem the type. “There’s lots of entrances to Nchuand-Zel, like the palace or the prison, but they’re all guarded. Except, unsurprisingly, the Warrens. The entrance there is boarded up shoddily with some wooden planks, and no one ever goes near it.”

“So you took down the boards?”

“No, not at all!” He rushed to correct her. “I wouldn’t want to put anyone at risk should anything follow me back into town. But it was easy to climb the pipes around it and sneak through the vents to the other side. No one ever noticed.”

“Ever?” She repeated the word with a tilt of her head. “So you’re saying you went there often?”

“Only when I was sick of being around everyone,” he said, truthfully. Quieter, he clarified, “So, about every other day…”

She huffed a laugh at that, and the sound went straight to his heart. “You’re exactly like your sister described you, you know.”

Squashing down his nerves, he tilted his head to the side to look at her directly. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”

For a long moment, she only eyed him, exploring his features so intently that he could almost feel her on his skin. Her gaze burned a trail from his cheeks, to his jaw, to his lips. The confidence he had just barely managed to wrangle together was beginning to falter in the silence. Until, that is, her lips curled into a coquettish smile, and she finally said, “A compliment.”

With that response, he’d expected the tightness in his chest to let up, but it only seemed to burst into a heat that spread across his whole body.

“So…” She took a step closer, leaning into him. It did nothing to help his giddiness. “Is it true what they say? The automatons are still functional beneath the city?”

Thankfully, he was able to compose himself by latching onto the question. Clearing his throat, he answered, “There’s something down there. I never saw automatons, even though there were ports for them everywhere. They must be disabled throughout the city. But I heard all sorts of scuttling and moving around through some of the walls. I’d always assumed it to be skeevers, but why take the chance?”

She hummed in acknowledgement. “Yes, especially coming from the Warrens. Sounds like the vents were large enough for skeevers and all manner of creatures to get through.” She giggled to herself, and quietly added, “Even a Robin.”

He cringed at that and brought a hand to hide his flushed face. “Ugh, when you put it like that, I suppose it wasn’t as roguish and daring as it felt.”

His embarrassment only seemed to entertain her as her laugh grew louder, but she rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to pry his hands away from covering his face. “Oh, come now, I’m only kidding,” she insisted, even as she giggled through her words. “Tell me more. Please? What was down there?”

Lucky for her, the feel of her hands on him quickly made him forget his embarrassment. He cleared the lump in his throat and went on, “The place wasn’t in good condition, obviously. But I think it used to be a shopping district back in the day, as far as I could tell from how it was built. There was a long hallway with alcoves that looked more like storefronts than homes.” As he spoke, his eyes flicked back and forth between the path ahead and Esmeralda’s face, intentionally avoiding where her hands rested in his palm and on his shoulder.

As acutely aware of her touch as he was, she seemed to have completely forgotten and made no effort to pull back. “That makes perfect sense. The Warrens give the most direct route between the two levels of the city. It must have been the perfect hub for trade between the Reachfolk aboveground and the Dwemer belowground!”

As she spoke and stared off at an undefined point in the distance, Robin could practically see her adding to map of the city that existed in her mind. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “It’s a shame we blocked off that part of the city. It would be far better than the mess that is the Dryside marketplace.”

She hummed as she took in his words. “That’s true,” she mused, a mild surprise in her tone. “Why would they relegate the tradespeople to wooden stalls crowded together in the cold when there’s a perfectly good marketplace built into the city itself?”

“And invest in Riverside?” The idea was laughable. “The Jarl would never do that. Much more convenient to leave the smeltery and slave labor neatly tucked away where travellers carrying gold don’t ever have to go.”

Her shoulders slumped, and as they did, her hand fell away from his. “Typical of those damn Nords,” she spat. “They control a city built to house two peoples, and all they can think to do with it is to segregate us into their slums. Do they even have a clue what their feet trample on?”

“Doubtful,” Robin said, his own expression falling into a scowl not unlike hers. “They’d sooner forget it all and just take the privileges handed down to them without question. Most of them don’t even realize our people lived there alongside the Dwemer. Even I only learned that recently.”

“Alex said the same thing!” she exclaimed, her rage stepping aside to give way to disbelief. “I’m still confused by that. It’s the only Dwemer city with any aboveground living spaces. What, do they think the Markarth Dwarves just liked sunshine better than all the others?”

“Ah, see that’s where you’re mistaken,” Robin pointed. “They don’t think.”

She snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Clearly. And they have the gall to call us uneducated.” With a swoop of her hand, she gestured to the entire mountain range around them. “I’ll bet I know more about the entirety of the Reach than they know about the one city they claim.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a moment.” He tried to smile with her, but an unshakeable twinge of sadness dampened it.

She caught onto it all too easily. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he said, instinctively. “I just… I suppose, in a way, I envy you. As self-centered as that sounds. It’s stu—”

“Hush with that,” she quickly interrupted before his self-deprecation could go on. “You’ll find no judgement here. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Acceptance was not what he expected, nor what he was accustomed to. After taking a moment to shake off his surprise, he went on, “It’s the way you speak of the Reach. You know it in ways I never have. You know yourself in ways I never have. While you lived among our people, I was stuck in classrooms being told about how oh-so-great Emperor What’s-His-Name The Twenty-Eighth was for killing and enslaving us. Not the education I’d have chosen for myself, if I had been given a choice at all.”

She nodded along to his words, grimacing at the thought of it all. “How could I ever fault you for hating it? I’ve had nightmares more bearable than that.” With a sympathetic smile, she lightly bumped his arm. “You’re not the first city Reachman to make your way out here. Your sister did it. She struggled in all the same ways, but despite it all, she learned and thrived with us. You will too.”

His brow furrowed as he considered her words. Yes, he supposed Alex must have felt this way as well—she was the only one of the three siblings to join the Wilders of her own volition. In the chaos of everything, he hadn’t been given a chance to speak with her about why she ran off. He realized, then, that he never needed to.

“We never spoke of it growing up.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Esmeralda said. “That was always part of the problem, wasn’t it?”

As her words slowly sank in his mind, he couldn’t help but chuckle. When she tilted her head in question, he explained, “It’s funny. I’d spent years trying to make sense of it all. Who I am, and why I’m here. I’d started to believe there was no sense to be had at all, and that I was simply broken or mad. Years of confusion, and you seem to understand it within moments. Was there ever a point to the madness?”

“It’s not madness,” she said. “It’s what happens when you’re away from home for too long.”

“Markarth is home.” Even as the words left his mouth, he hated the certainty with which he said them. Markarth did nothing to deserve such a title.

“She is. But without her people, she’s hollow. She was the body, and we were the soul that gave her life. You can envy me for knowing our people, and I can envy you for knowing our city. But in the end, you’re a body without a soul, and I’m a soul without a body. Neither one of us is more alive than the other. Just a different kind of dead.”

Her words seared into his heart, burning through a wall of pain he’d long thought was impenetrable. For a moment, it felt healing. He’d never had words for it until she spoke them.

And yet all at once, behind the wall he’d never been able to see through, there was more pain. A grief—deeper, and darker, and bigger than he’d known before.

He thought that by now he had perfected the art of appearing stoic, even in his worst moments. But Esmeralda saw through it, and wordlessly interlaced her fingers with his, pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, and lifted it to her forehead.

The gesture had never been so soothing. All he could do was pull her closer with his free hand and hug her.

He did not know how long they stayed there, holding each other. It was only when he felt another hand on his shoulder that his attention snapped back to the world around them.

“Would you like me to take over your patrol, feather?” Beatrice asked, directing the question to Esmeralda.

“Ah—yes, if you would be so kind,” Esmeralda said, pulling away from the hug but keeping their hands intertwined.

Robin felt his face flush and kept his gaze on the ground. “My apologies, I shouldn’t have distracted her from her duties.”

“Nonsense.” Beatrice waved off the apology. “With everything you’ve gone through, I’m glad our Esme could bring you comfort.” Her hand came up to his chin and, with a gentle touch, lifted his head. “Don’t despair. One day, you’ll see your home again, and it shall be in better hands. We are nothing if not resilient.”

It felt odd, being so seen. Robin had always been one to stick to the shadows—literally and metaphorically. He’d come to associate being perceived with being judged and misunderstood. He had never stopped to consider what it would mean to be seen and, without ever needing to defend or explain himself, simply be met with compassion.

“Thank you,” he said, hoping he did not appear as dumbfounded on the outside as he felt on the inside.

They parted, with Beatrice watching over the camp in place, and Robin and Esmeralda making their way to—well, he wasn’t quite sure. He was simply allowing her to lead, and he was too lost in thought to notice that they’d passed the tent he shared with Marceline.

It was only when she pulled him into an unfamiliar tent that he realized where she was taking him. This one was much more decorated, if haphazardly, with silver and Dwarven metal crafted into elaborate geometric shapes. A messy workbench sat in the corner, littered with Dwemer tools and half-finished projects. Below it was a chest so full of all manner of belongings that the lid could not close all the way.

Rather than an oil lamp or candle, the space was lit with the bluish hue of a Dwarven light bulb hanging upside down from the wooden scaffolds.

“I tend to collect things.” Esmeralda vaguely waved her hand at the entire place. “Don’t let it bother you. I swear, there is order in the chaos.”

That pulled a chuckle from him. “It’s no bother. I’m much the same,” he confessed, smiling as he examined it all.

After kicking off her boots, Esmeralda sat cross-legged on the bed, her back against the headboard, and patted the spot in front of her. “Join me. I’m not done interrogating you about the city, you know. I want to hear all I can before I start pestering Isobel next,” she said with a chuckle.

“What, am I being held hostage?” He joked, even as he followed suit and sat at the foot of the bed, leaving a respectable distance between them. “I take it I’m not your first victim.”

“Oh, not at all,” she said as she spread her legs out and rested her feet on his lap, any respectable distance quickly tossed aside. He did not mind in the slightest. “I’ve been grilling Alex for stories about Markarth since she joined. And Duach. And just about anyone who’s so much as stepped foot there.”

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say you’re not a Wilder by choice.”

She feigned a gasp. “What gave it away?”

“My powers of perception are like none other.”

She laughed, and Robin couldn’t help the little rush of pride from knowing he caused it.

“If you must know,” she explained, “my parents were among the rebels who retook Markarth with Madanach. They had wanted to raise a family in the city of our ancestors.” She gestured around her. “Clearly, it did not work out as planned. Now, I’m stuck begging for stories so I can imagine what my life could have been.” She gave him a light kick on the arm. “I hope it isn’t a pain, because I have no intention of stopping.”

“It isn’t,” he said, truthfully. “On the contrary, I enjoy it. I only know Markarth as she is. Conquered and soulless. I much prefer seeing her through your eyes.”

And so, the pair stayed up late into the night, exchanging stories of the city and the wilds. He told her of the acoustics in the music halls, and she told him of traditional firedances. She told him tales of swimming in the Karth river, and he told her tales of climbing the Temple of Dibella.

He did not remember when, exactly, he fell asleep. All he could recall as he was carried off to sleep was the pale blue light on Esmeralda’s face, and a feeling of home.

[spewpurr]

Some interesting excerpts from “The Two Faces of Man” by Dr. Meerloo

(Kinda reeling at the implication that SPM might’ve been inspired by some psychology book from the fifties, but, like. That would explain why SPM is Like That.)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - Chapter Seven.

Surprise update time! Oh yeah, we’re doing it, besties! I kind of felt like the previous chapter wasn’t as well received as the previous ones, so I’m feeling a little insecure and hoping this one will be. Looking forward to your thoughts, as ever :) 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,186

Warnings - Bit of smut in this one! Minors DNI!

He knew it was causing a rift with Talia, he knew it well, but that Saturday night, Alfie did as had begun to become the usual; he took both Amira and Mimi to bed with him after they’d arrived back home.  

The prospect of two of his girls at once was never something he was strong enough to turn down, lying on his back, his cock in Amira’s mouth, Mimi astride his face, his mouth hungry at her folds, sucking as she shook against him, his tongue seeking her clit with keen licks, his hands grasping at her tits. They were the only part of her he wished he could change, the fact that she’d had breast implants. They looked great, but didn’t feel it. He’d rather play with real, small boobs than big, plastic ones. He kept that to himself, though, loving her too much to ever voice that to her.

Moving his hands, he slid them down her amazing curves, grasping her bum as he drove his tongue inside her, Mimi crying out loudly. “Yeah, you like that, darlin’? Like it when I tongue fuck your pretty little hole?”

“Oh my god, fuck yes!” she panted, her nails raking down his arms as she leaned back, riding his tongue, his beard tickling at her, hand spanking her bum hard a few times in quick succession. He then returning his licks to her clit with a grunt as he felt Amira move to envelop his cock within her heat, her arms snaking around Mimi, playing with her nipples as she kissed the side of her neck.  

It was a blazing tempest of pleasure for the three of them, but perhaps none more so than Mimi, Amira’s hand slipping down to grasp at the butt plug rooted deep inside her, beginning to work it back and forth, Mimi’s cries reaching crescendo. “Come on, baby girl. Cum for us.” Amira encouraged, Alfie wrapping her clit in his full lips and sucking until she broke apart, her body shaking against her lovers, breathless in the wake of such a beautiful surge.  

“Oh, bloody hell, I’m ruined!”

Alfie grunted with laugher, turning his head to bite her inner thigh. “Not yet you ain’t, love.”

None of them were, having their usual wild time in a variety of different trysts, Alfie fucking Mimi from behind while she licked at Amira’s clit, working a dildo in and out of her, the women trading places, both of them sucking on his cock at the same time, and to finish, Mimi bound in rope as she sat astride Amira, bouncing on the strap on she wore, Alfie behind her, his finger plunging in and out of her arsehole, wishing she was brave enough to take him anally. None of his girlfriends were, though, and for that, he couldn’t fault them. He knew how massive his cock was.  

They fell asleep at somewhere close to 2am, Alfie wrapped around Amira, her own arms cuddling Mimi close to her. He woke up 7:45am, heading to the gym for a workout before hitting the shower, throwing on a pair of clean sweats and venturing up to the kitchen, where he found Beth sitting at her laptop, typing away while eating toast.

“Alright, flower. How’d you sleep?”

“Very well with the assistance of earplugs, thanks. You were right, they worked.” Chewing on the crispy crust of her toast, she smiled over the top of her screen at him, Alfie chuckling deeply as he went about preparing a smoothie for his breakfast. Spinach, ginger, apples, garlic, turmeric and oat milk. Amira referred to it as the death smoothie, because after trying a sip one time, she’d declared she’d rather die than ever do so again.  

“How’s that article of yours coming along, then?” he inquired, after the whirl of the blender had ceased, pouring the green concoction into a glass and walking over to sit down.  

“I’m making decent progress, a tentative start, but mostly what I have is note form and the quotes I’m using directly from Amira and Mims,” she began, Alfie smiling fondly.

“I like how you just called her Mims. She really likes you, you know.” It had made him beam the previous night, watching Mimi excitedly take Beth’s hand as they walked to the car, telling her how fabulous she looked. And she had. She’d been wearing an Alexander McQueen dress, teamed with the same Louboutin heels she’d worn when he first met her, looking absolutely stunning to him. If only she was welcoming to the idea of joining him and the girls. Nothing would have made him happier than to have her as his fourth.  

“I like her too. She’s very unassuming, has a lovely unjaded attitude that I think most of us all possessed when we were twenty-one. She’s carefree. She’s taking me to the stables later today so we can go for a ride together.”

“Yeah, she’s still got that little sparkle about her that people have before life smacks the shit out of ‘em a bit. It’s that sparkle I fell for,” he spoke fondly, smiling. “And yeah, she mentioned it when I got up, but said she wanted a few more hours in bed first. Poor little muffin, she’s proper knackered!”

It didn’t take a genius to work out why that was, exactly, Beth not sitting well with the little sliver of envy that flushed through her momentarily. “Do you have any free time later, at all? I’d like to speak to you again before I leave in the morning, get a few more quotes, some further questions answered as well.”

He looked pained for a moment, shaking his head. “I’m working all day today. Got a few meetings I need to head out to and then I’ll be chained to my office for the duration. About that, though, you leaving in the morning. How would you like to stay longer, say, another week or two? I don’t think seven days is particularly long enough a time to get everything you need, really, come to think of it.”

“I think I could definitely benefit from a longer stay, certainly. Won’t it cause issues, though, with Talia?”

He sniffed with nonchalance, sipping a bit more of his smoothie. “That’s her problem. She don’t fuckin’ dictate to me. I’ve reassured the girl all I can, it’s up to her if she believes me or not. When you three went for a little dance at the bar last night, she was still bangin’ on about it while we were at the table, going on and bloody on. It’s like rubbing salt in the wounds.”

“Is it? How so?”

He smiled ruefully, leaning a little closer to her. “Because I want you to be here all the time, and you don’t want that. Now I’ve got her in my bleedin’ ear, reminding me of what I can’t have, and I don’t like it when I don’t get my own way.”

“Ahh,” Beth sighed, looking back to her computer. “I can understand why such would frustrate you.”

He widened his eyes a little, gulping back more of the smoothie. “I don’t wanna talk about it, though. Fed up of it.” He paused for a few moments, leaning back against the comfy seats, his abs flexing deliciously as he did. There it was, the throb deep within her, Beth’s eyes flitting back to the screen again as she tightened her thighs. “You know what, love? You’ve been here a week, asking your questions to us, but no one has asked you anything back, or at least, I ain’t done that. So, tell me, Bethany Drake. What are your favourite things?”

She was momentarily perplexed by the spontaneity of his question. “My favourite things?”

“Yeah! What makes you smile, makes you happy, gives you joy, all that. I feel like I want to get to know the woman staying in my house a bit better, since I’ve been too bloody busy to give you much of my time.”  

“In what context?”

“Anything! Everything, from inanimate items, to animals, to weather, to sex, to music, to times of year. All of it. What makes Bethany with the lovely legs happy?”

“Okay, um. Where to begin?” she thought on it for a moment, before beginning to rattle off a list in no particular order. “Old books, brushed cotton sheets, spring rain, dark red nail polish, the sunrise somewhere beautiful, the sea, horses, when babies giggle, Jo Malone candles, white chocolate, anal sex, writing notes with a fountain pen, Magda’s humour – she's my bestie, by the way – her husband’s curry, otters, Josh Homme’s voice, cinnamon pastries, Victoria’s Secret undies, sea lions, white roses, Audrey Hepburn, Beethoven, the smell in the air just before a storm, cherries, Kurt Geiger bags, spaniels, Arthur Miller’s entire body of work, matzo’s, Picasso, Cabernet Sauvignon. Sorry, am I talking too much?”

“No! Continue!” He’d fallen into somewhat of a daze when she’d mentioned anal sex, imagining her being brave enough to take him, how much praise he’d lavish on her if she could, but had pulled himself from the fantasy to continue listening intently.

“Teasing and being teased, Louboutin’s, candyfloss, my bubbe’s tomato soup, Greece, sangria, Van Halen, cherry blossoms, Human Traffic – although my all-time favourite film is Casablanca – William Shakespeare, oversized sweaters, Gilmore Girls, Ugg boots, pumpkin spiced latte’s, the smell of fabric softener, sparkling water on a hot day, baby turtles, Hanukkah, Grey Goose, Maria Callas, chess, a man in a well-tailored suit...”

The way he grinned there prompted her giggles, Alfie trying not to look so pleased at that. “That got more of a reaction than the revelation that I love anal,” she commented, watching him hide his face in his hands for a second.  

“Don’t, because you don’t even want to know where my mind went, hearing that. And I’m trying to be good, so carry on,” he groaned, Beth’s laughter escalating.  

“I think I can guess, Alfie,” she teased, his dirty laugh filling the kitchen before she continued. “Alright. Um... scrambled eggs, Barbara Walters, peonies, Mickey Flanagan, Led Zeppelin, New York, fudge brownies, Siamese cats, cheese, old furniture, Madonna, oral sex, vintage typewriters, Mademoiselle perfume, old castles, the feeling of waking up and knowing I don’t have to be anywhere, autumn walks, the little coffee shop on Oxford Street, Bach, Phyllis Diller’s laugh, frozen margarita’s, shibari, red velvet cake, sunflowers, Corinne Bailey Rae, vintage Aston Martin’s, the word shenanigans, Sex and the City, freshly baked bread, daisies, salmon, and now I really feel like I’m going on and bloody on!”

He chuckled, leaning against his hand, thinking her so utterly lovely. He often asked new girlfriends this, and for the most part, all he’d received were superficial answers. No one told him their simple pleasures, like she just had, and he found it refreshing, for it was exactly what he wanted to hear. Beth had understood the assignment.  

“You’re not. You’re bloody lovely, you know that?”

She smiled a little shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m told I’m not bad.”  

“Don’t be fuckin’ coy. You know you’re amazing.” Reaching for her, he stroked her cheek with his thumb, not able to help himself. God, she was just so radiant, so fascinating. All he wanted to do in that moment was to sit and ask her why each of those things made her so happy, hear her tell him stories relating to each and why they sparked joy in her.  

“What about you? What makes Alfie Solomons happy?” She really wanted to know in that moment, and if she was honest, the desire to discover more had nothing to do with her article. The way he smiled at her, how he’d just caressed her cheek. She felt a little giddy.  

He didn’t get chance to answer, though, Talia entering the kitchen. “Morning, sweetheart. You alright?”  

“Yes, thanks,” she replied succinctly, moving to give him a kiss before heading for the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice and pouring herself a glass.  

“Oh, just to let you know, Beth is staying on with us a bit longer.” The look she shot at him made her feelings very clear, Beth quickly powering off her laptop, wanting to be able to escape rapidly, should there be a blow up between the two. Anything that might have happened was swiftly shot down before it had chance to escalate by the entrance of a bubbly Mimi, her greeting of ‘hello!’ booming through the kitchen, kissing Alfie and then pointing at Beth.

“Come on! Clothes on, face washed! We have ponies to go and ride!”  

“I’m all washed, I’ll have you know. Bear with, let me just go and dress. Can I still borrow some boots and half chaps?”  

“Already popped them in your room, and a pair of jodhpurs too, since we’re roughly the same size.” With the atmosphere seeming to build, Beth made a quick getaway, Mimi saying she’d meet her outside. She was halfway up the stairs when the almighty row kicked off in the kitchen, wincing for Alfie, who was catching the full brunt of Talia’s ire. They were still in full swing ten minutes later when she left the house, Mimi waving to her from behind the wheel of Alfie’s brand-new Range Rover, clicking the door open.  

“Let’s get out of the war zone, shall we?” she cringed, clicking the gate fob and waiting for them to swing open. “I feel bad at leaving him there to deal with it, but I don’t think I’d have been much use. She’s really getting herself all wound up over nothing. It’s been building for a few weeks, all this. I don’t know, she’s making a thing for her thing, what’s it called, a pole for her back?”

“A rod for her own back?” Beth offered.

“That’s it! But yeah, if she carries on, I can’t see him standing for it much longer. My boyfriend doesn’t have the best patience in the world, in fact I’d say it was his only fault, that he has a really short fuse, but there’s only so many times he can tell her the same flippin’ thing.” Pausing while she waited for a break in the traffic, Mimi sighed, turning left onto Fulham Road and thanking the van driver who had just let her out.  

“I agree. I should remain impartial, considering my place in your home is to observe, but quietly, I think that’s correct. Alfie is the kind of man who would unequivocally just come out and say it, if he only wanted you and Amira, going forward. He doesn’t seem the type who would suffer having someone under his roof unless he really wanted them there.”

“Oh, you’re so right! He wouldn’t, that’s not in his nature. He really does want her there, he loves her, for heaven’s sake, but she isn’t making it easy. He told us that he’d spend more time with her and he has since she apparently requested such, but she’s still being paranoid. Alfie is straight up; he doesn’t hold back his true feelings. He tells you how it is, and sometimes that’s hard to hear, but ultimately, he’s an honest guy. She’s been with him longer than I have, yet I feel I understand him better, because I take what he says as the complete truth. She thinks somehow, she’s being hoodblinked.”

“Hoodwinked,” Bath softly corrected.  

“Oh!” Mimi burst out laughing, shaking her head. The brain of Britain, the young blonde most certainly was not, but she had a good head on her shoulders. She was definitely more secure in her relationship and trusting of Alfie than Talia had slowly become to be.  They arrived at the stables forty minutes later, the horses kept just outside of London, Mimi finding them to have been groomed and prepared for her arrival already, since Alfie paid for them to be on full livery. This meant that someone would tend to them for the owner morning and night, which freed up Mimi’s time.

While they rode, Mimi aboard Bryn and Beth on the immaculately well-behaved Sunny, she thought back to her time at the kitchen table that morning, the way Alfie had looked at her as she’d listed off her long list of things that brought her pleasure. They clicked, she couldn’t deny it, and she’d known since she very first time she’d had lunch with him, that feeling now seeming to have grown more for being in his home. While Mimi rode off to take her bigger horse over a few cross-country fences, Beth riding Sunny on along the tree line, she considered her options.  

Would she be prepared to write off something she felt might be very wonderful between she and Alfie, all because she didn’t enjoy the idea of sharing him? Could she open herself up to being more carefree where monogamy was concerned, and realise that while one day, he could perhaps fall in love with her and they have a very real relationship, he’d also have something equally loving and real with the three others in his life?

This was where she knew she had to halt herself, lest tumble down the rabbit hole into a topsy turvy world, like Alice. Except Beth knew she should not fall carelessly into Wonderland. It gave her pause for thought, asking herself the question, now such had been stirred within her, how much of themselves, their own wants, their own comfort, were women willing to put aside, in order to be with Alfie Solomons?  

She was watching it play out right now in the difficulties between he and Talia. It was a cautionary tale, and she knew this well, because she knew in her heart, not having him entirely would never be enough, and unlike the slew of women before her, she could not put that onto the table as her compromise. Many could, three currently did, and in return, they received a piece of him, but never the entire Alfie. Taking her phone out, she recorded verbal notes to reflect that, which not only would be used for her article, but at any point, in her yet-to-be-determined stay, where she felt herself losing her head to his charms.  

“I am not one of many, and I never will be.”  

“Shall we go for a gallop?” Mimi called, cantering back over from the scarily huge fence she’d just jumped Bryn over, Beth returning her phone to her jacket pocket and zipping it safely inside.  

“Yes, perfect.” It was, too, the cool rush of air hitting her face as she negotiated little Sunny over the terrain at top speed, the thunder of hooves and the horse’s snorts clearing her head. There was a sense of relief and freedom from her thoughts, right there, at flat out gallop that she sorely needed, blowing away the dangerous territory her mind had begun to wander into.  

And then she pictured the way he’d smiled at her that morning, feeling butterflies cascade through her tummy. This did not bode well.

[cyborg-franky]

Thank you patreon!

This is for a patreon and thus it's a little longer then my normal prompts!

Ace x GN Reader SFW Prompt: Monster AU [Fire Imp] Word Count: 638

Opening the door to your cottage you paused, hearing a floorboard creak somewhere in the room. You narrowed your eyes and peered around the place, stepping in slowly and closing the door behind you, trying to make as little sound as possible.

The last few weeks things had been going on in your house. You’d set something down, something important and it would be gone, vanished away. You’d be cooking and the flame would go out. Not a single window open, no drafts in the house and yet your stew would be cold.

Then there was the opposite side of that problem. Fires randomly starting and burning your food, little sparks of flame catching the curtains or your clothes. You were sure you heard a snort of laughter once.

Something was going on and you were less than happy with the mischievous intentions of the spirit you’d come into contact with. Going to the market you’d asked around. A tall man with a crop of blond hair, half-lidded eyes and a sly grin had told you ‘Fire imp’

You went straight to the library, finding an old book with dusty pages detailing the creature. Ugly, grubby, and prone to being little shits.

“I know you’re here.” You announced to the empty room as you made a couple more tentative steps across the floor.

You sighed, what were you even doing? Did you believe the strange man in purple at the market? You shook your head and tossed your bag on the table, the thick tome which had information about mythical creatures peeking out, mocking you.

Getting water from the faucet you poured it into your iron kettle, set it on the stove and tried to get a light. Sighing once more and using yet another match that refused to work. Maybe they’d gotten a little damp?

“Wow, this book is awful imps aren’t always ugly.” A voice said with a derogatory snort.

You jumped up with a surprised shriek, almost falling over yourself as you spun around and saw the creature sitting on your table, a cloth barely covering anything as he sat there. Black ram horns curled around either side of his head. Wavy black hair, a dusting of freckles across light orange skin.

A sharp-tipped tail waved behind him as he sneered at the pages. His cat light eyes flicked from the crude images sprawled across the book’s page and he clicked his tongue. “Need help?” He pointed over to the stove and fired a flame across the room.

A whoosh sound made you stumble back once more.

“I was hoping you’d be home soon; I was getting hungry.” Ace sighed and discarded the book on the floor.

You winced and picked the literature up off the floor, closing the pages and gently stroking the cover, checking over any damages the creature could have caused it. This was the imp? The fire imp, you added glancing at the stove.

“Why are you here?” You asked as he stretched, showing off his freckled back. He was cute and you couldn’t believe he was real.

At least you hadn’t been going mad with all the things that just kept going missing. He moved to your comfy armchair and sprawled out, idly playing with the red beaded necklace he wore. “I was bored, this is my home too ya know.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think so…”

“I was just playing with you; I’m not mean spirited. I think we could become very close friends Plus I like your stew and as far as humans go,” Ace paused to give you a cheeky grin “Your very easy on the eye.”

You felt your cheeks heat up from the imp’s compliment and you inwardly sighed watching Ace wink at you. There was no bundle of sage big enough for this problem.

TAG LIST:

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[princessphilly]

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CW: soft smut, mentions of miscarriage, fucked up doctors. 

This is definitely it. Sid and Nina’s story is over but you will see them in the other fics of this universe, including a huge part of Plain Jane

Nina stared at the boxes. It was time to pack but at the same time, she couldn’t do it. 

They were so excited. A baby so early in their marriage had seemed scary but Sid and Nina were ready. They had picked out colors, a room for a nursery, and had begun to discreetly pick up supplies. 

It was nineteen weeks; still early but they were getting ready to announce. Then there was the blood in the toilet three days ago when Nina woke up and went to the bathroom. And now, their first, a girl, was gone. 

The doctor was sympathetic, and said it happens a lot. Most pregnancies never make it to birth, she said. But it hurt that their girl was now an angel. Nina sniffled as she packed the pack-and-play back into the box. 

“Hey, why are you doing that? You’re supposed to rest!”

Nina looked up, tears in her eyes. Sidney rushed to her, lowering himself to the floor. Gathering his wife in his arms, he soothed, “Pretty girl, we’ll have more.”

“But-but-“

Nina’s tears turned into sobs as she relaxed in her husband’s arms. Her momma had a history of miscarriages: what if that meant that there would never be a child?

As if he could read her mind, Sidney replied, “it doesn’t matter, I love you no matter what.”

**

Nina was sleeping, finally getting some rest. Matthew was napping on Sidney’s chest, his little boy still red but much calmer. 

It hadn’t been an easy birth for Nina. This was their third pregnancy but first child to make it past the 2nd trimester. And Matthew decided to come out three weeks early, November 26 instead of his due date of December 17. 

The door opened and Matthew stirred a bit before settling back down. Sidney looked around: his mother was curled into a chair, reading a book while Tracy was scrolling her phone on the couch. The proud grandfathers had gone out to get lunch for everyone. 

Walking in, the doctor said, “The nurse said Nina is healing nicely but we will have to do some stitches. Your son is a big boy.”

Sidney gave him a tentative grin. Matthew was 9lbs, 4 oz and 22 inches long. He was on the bigger side. The doctor continued, “When I stitch her, I can give her a husband stitch, if you like.”

“What is that,” Sidney asked, wrinkling his nose. 

Trina interjected, “Don’t you dare, Sidney.”

In a soothing voice, the doctor said, “it’s an extra stitch to make your wife as tight as she was before she gave birth.” He winked at Sidney. 

Sidney looked at his mother before responding, “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” Nina managed to say, opening her eyes. “I heard about that stitch and I will sue if you do that to me.”

“You heard her.”

Sidney gave the doctor a hard look as he shrugged, preparing to give Nina only the necessary stitches. Passing his boy to his mother, Sidney said, “I’d like a different doctor.”

“What, I’ve been-”

Sidney took out his phone, ready to start making some calls. The doctor left, grumbling under his throat. Nina gave Sidney a grateful smile before dozing off again. 

**

One of the hardest things for Sidney was the fact that it was best for his boy not to grow up in Canada. As a proud Canadian, that rankled him. He wanted Matt to be more Canadian than American. But when a video of 2 year old Matt skating and hitting a puck dead center into the net made major news, Sidney knew he had no choice. He wanted Matt to have more of a childhood than him, to not feel like he had to be the next one. 

So, his family spent most of the year in Pittsburgh and summers in Cole Harbour or on different vacations. Sidney knew that his son was still “famous” but Matt was still treated as a kid. With Nina’s extended family, there wasn’t any preferential treatment. His kids were the same as their cousins in Nina’s family, giving his children normalcy Sidney never had as a child. 

Sidney raked a hand through his silver hair. As much as he wanted Matt to go his own way, it still freaked him out that his son chose to be a *goalie* out of all positions. He winced as he heard a shot hit the post. Then Matt made a glove save and Sid clapped.

“That’s not the talent I expected but he’s already showing signs of being a better goalie than center, Sid.”

Sidney turned to his longtime mentor and now close friend, Mario. Shrugging, he replied, “I just want him to be happy. He��s happy, I’m happy.” 

Sidney smirked. “Plus, Chloe is going to be the best woman’s hockey player ever. She’s 8 and she’s already playing with 10 to 12 year old girls.”

“True,” Mario conceded. “You’ve transitioned from pro to hockey dad.”

“Eh, can’t forget Aja and Morgan. I’m a hockey, figure skating, soccer, and dance dad. Not bad for a fifty year old washed up player.”

“Who’s washed up?”

Sidney grinned as his wife bumped him with her hip. His baby girl was holding Nina’s hand, her hair pulled up into a dancer’s bun. Chloe was right behind her, still clad in her hockey gear, Aja trailing behind with a book in her hands. 

“I am,” Sidney drawled. 

Chloe piped up, “No you’re not, Daddy! You’re still the best hockey player ever!”

“Yup,” Morgan added while Aja nodded, absorbed in her book. 

“No, you’ll be the best hockey player ever, Chlo’,” Aja stated, closing her book. “Daddy will be the best men’s hockey player.”

As Aja firmly nodded, Sidney and Mario laughed. 

**

Nina let out a breath. It was crazy how just one touch from Sidney made her hot, even seventeen years later. His lips were trailing down her neck, one hand cupping her breasts. “Can you be quiet for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina breathed out. Sidney’s other hand was exploring her folds. She was getting wet but menopause was finally calling so Nina knew they would need some help. Leaning away from Sidney, she pulled out the lube from the drawer. 

“Thanks, pretty girl, but I’m more interested in burying my face in your pussy,” Sidney laughed. 

Nina replied softly, “No problem. You know my mom just came back from her cruise so the girls will go find her first this morning.”

“Even better. Spread your legs for me, pretty girl. You know what daddy wants.”

Nina let out a giggle that quickly turned into a muffled moan as she felt Sidney’s tongue gently lick through her pussy, his nose nudging her clit the way she liked it. He ate her slowly, bringing Nina close to the edge but never letting her go. Then Sidney stopped, kissing his way up Nina’s body before kissing her, letting Nina taste herself. 

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Nina urged, “Please, Sidney,” managing to keep her voice at a whisper. Before he could answer, they heard some girlish giggles and they both paused. 

“I locked the door last night,” Sidney whispered into Nina’s ear. Nina giggled then moaned as she felt Sidney’s fingers spread the cool lube over her pussy. Then he entered her, nice and slow.

“Love you, pretty girl,” Sidney whispered as Nina arched against him. She was clenching around his cock; he wanted to go slow and savor it this morning but Nina had different ideas. 

Nina whispered, “Love you, too,” her fingernails digging into his back. Then she squeaked as Sidney withdrew, turning her onto her hands and knees.  

**

“Momma, you promised to make breakfast today.”

Nina straggled into the kitchen, her robe wrapped tightly around her body. “Morg, it’s 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday, it’s still morning.”

Chloe piped up, “You’re usually up before us everyday, Momma.”

Nina shared a look with Sidney who squelched a laugh. He had planned to just go one round with his wife but it turned into three to start off the day right. 

Sighing, Nina grabbed bowls to prepare waffles. Morgan added, “Mimi made waffle batter already, Momma.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Nina sincerely stated. 

Tracey shrugged. “I figured I’d give you a break since I’ve been gone. You know I love my grand girls.”

Matthew yawned as he walked into the kitchen, his hair sticking up all over his head. “Hi,” he sleepily said before going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of Gatorade. 

“It’s too early for energy drinks, Matt,” Sidney chided. 

“Sorry, Dad.”

Matthew was about three weeks from turning twelve and the whole teenage era was coming fast. Now, he was sleeping in and staying up late. Nina sighed, it was too early for one of her babies to grow up. 

“I would have woken up earlier but these girls had to jump on my bed at 7am, Dad,” Matthew complained. “They said your door was locked. Why do they always have to bother me?”

“Because we love you, Matty,” Aja said with a mischievous smile. “And some girl sent you messages while you were asleep.”

Matthew glared at his little sister. “Girls are ugly. Especially girls like you.”

Sid and Nina shared a look. Sid just had “the talk” with Matthew and they were both happy he still saw girls as ugly, at least for now. Tracey said, “Oh baby, that’s no way to talk to your little sister.”

“I’m sorry, Mimi,” Matthew said, giving his grandmother a kiss. “Momma, can we have blueberry waffles today?”

“Plain waffles,” Nina said firmly. “You can add blueberries, strawberries, or peaches as a fruit topping.”

“No chocolate chips?”

Chloe and Morgan gave their mother their biggest puppy-dog eyes. Nina shook her head. They then give Sidney the same look, saying together, “Daddy, can we have chocolate chips with our waffles?”

Sidney laughed as he picked up two of his girls. “You two already know the answer to that!”

Chloe pouted as Morgan laughed at the silly faces Sidney was making. Sidney added, “It’s Saturday so you know today is ice cream day after dinner. Did anyone feed Maddie?”

Nina giggled as she turned on the grill. At the mention of her name, Maddie, their dog, ran into the kitchen. Pharaoh, their cat, followed Maddie in, stretching before walking around her legs. As her family noisily talked, Nina sighed in happiness. She loved her family, life was perfect.

[ahiddenpath]

Survey Results + Writing Plans/News

SURVEY IS IN!  More on that and my writing plans beneath the cut- PLUS my (tentative) ideas for a (potential) Digiwrimo event during Nanowrimo in November!

So the results are as follows:

Tri: Integrity Lens: 5 votes

Chosen Minor Arcana: 4 votes

Koushiro/Tentomon/Taichi oneshot: 3 votes

Four Years Profiles and Book Binding After August: 1 vote each

Thank you all so much for your feedback and interest!  I truly appreciate it.

I took the results and tried to figure out what to do, and my stunning conclusion is...  That I’m a crazy person, lol!  I can’t possibly keep all of these balls in the air, so here is what I’ve decided:

First priority:  Finish the last Four Years chapter before the hiatus.  It’s sexy, which means I’m struggling with it, but...  Gotta finish that first.

Second:  Write the Koushiro/Tentomon/Taichi oneshot for Odaiba Day, make any art/grab screen shots for it.  I at least want to draw a cover image with Kou-chan and Tento-chan.

Third:  Tri: Integrity Lens.  I have 19,000 words for Ketsui, which means that, while I have a fair amount...  I don’t even know if it’s halfway done.  Probably about halfway?  So I’ll have to decide, do I wait until I finish the whole thing, or do I post the “Mimi” half every other week, pause, then post the “Jyou” half?

I am seeing much more interest in the tarot/Minor Arcana than I expected, frankly!  So I will get to that, but for now, it will just be in the “what exactly am I doing” stages.  I might pick a single card for the twelve Chosen, I might make a post per character and talk about any/every Minor Arcana I think applies to their arc...  I don’t think I can do the whole Minor Arcana (56 cards).  Like, I just don’t think there’s a good match for every card.  So the approach is more complex than the Major Arcana (pick one card per Chosen, essentially). 

What I’m getting at here is that you might not see much new material from me until Odaiba Day, when I will post my oneshot (other than the FY chapter I’m working on now).  July is going to be dedicated to the oneshot and working on TIL.  Hopefully I finish the FY chapter before July- I’m not kidding when I say that sexy stuff is the hardest stuff.

I’ve been posting consistently since January 2021, but now I need to take a pause and sort out my next step.  I can’t say I like it, lol, but it has to be done!  

Digiwrimo

I will probably make another standalone post for this, since I’m sure a lot of my followers don’t follow my fics (which is perfectly understandable, no shade).  BUT YOU BABES GET TO SEE IT FIRST, also please help me bounce ideas around, lol!

SO HERE’S THE THING.

I have always wanted to have Nanowrimo buddies, but joining Nanowrimo is a hard sell.  Basically, entrants try to write 50,000 words in the 30 days of November, or 1,667 words/day.  It’s brutal, and a lot of writers (reasonably) don’t want to touch it with a ten foot pole. 

I would love to create with my fellow digimon fandom writers for a month, so I wondered...  Would anyone be interested in a modified Nanowrimo, aka Digiwrimo?  Here are my ideas:

Setting goals

Entrants are encouraged to set individual goals that fit their needs.  Sample goals include:

-Word count:  The traditional 50K, 30K, 20K, 10K, 5K written in the month of November (or whatever month we decide on, it actually... does not have to be November).

-Writing habit/session goals:  Make a promise to yourself to write for 60 minutes a day, 30 minutes a day, 15 minutes a day every day in November.  They say it takes about a month to establish a habit, so this could be a fun way to set up your daily writing habit!

-Project goals:  Finish that oneshot you’ve been meaning to write in November!  Write 1, 2, 3 chapters of your fic!  Write that meta collection/drabble collection!

There are no prompts/rules/shipping restraints/season restraints/canon or au restraints for your projects.  It just has to be digimon content of some kind.

If we work together, it’s much better!

-Discord for Digiwrimo with weekly write-ins 

-Declare your project and share updates on the Discord

-A Digiwrimo blog to reblog all posts tagged with an agreed on tag

Share your work

-Digiwrimo entrants are encouraged to edit/complete their Digiwrimo manuscripts for a month or two.  Then, anything posted on personal blogs with an agreed on tag will be reblogged on the Digiwrimo blog for signal boosting.

Those are my initial ideas!  I have no idea if people would want to do this, I just...  I’ve heard a lot of variations on, “I want to try Nanowrimo, but it’s just too much.”  I thought this event might be helpful for people?  But I’m also not sure if I’ll have time to run it and do my own Nanowrimo project, so I would need help, I think.  (Or it could take place outside of November and Nanowrimo, so I don’t make myself crazy trying to do both).  I also would love any ideas!  For example, I’m not sure what one does at a virtual write-in on Discord.

Would anyone be interested in this?  Or maybe there are just way too many events lately?  Let me know :D

[majicmarker]

tagged by: @woodswit 🤩

name/nickname: katie, kat, maj, mary for some reason, mimi

gender: the one in the skirt

star sign: libra

height: 5’11” and the weather is FINE

time: ~5pm

birthday: oct 17

favorite bands: bruce springsteen + the e street band, babey! loads more but rly i tend to like particular songs more than the groups themselves

favorite solo artists: ditto above but also emily kinney

song stuck in my head: a medley of my upbeat country playlist, my brain can’t decide what precisely to annoy the shit out of me w today

last show: the punisher, 100% to quench my bb thirst but turns out it’s also a hella good show (which is bananas for someone who sticks to comedy bc damn i’m already depressed) anyway @redbelles this is a callout post

last movie: my sister has been holding my dvds hostage so she can rewatch doctor who, so idek

when did i create this blog: my first tumblr was 2012, this reiteration was probably... ykw i don’t even know actually

what do i post: whatever i want i am an ADULT. recently this blog has just,, absolutely disintegrated into a ben barnes thirst trap tho

last thing googled: double-checking if i could have a drink after my second covid shot which i guess is fine? whatever i’m having a margarita

other blogs: @katmajik + @mimiduncanbooks

do i get asks: semi-regularly. the box is always open!

why i chose my url: out of my many nicknames i go by maj the most and i’m on the artsy side so, badda bing badda boom

following: idk like 12 (probably more, i just can’t be bothered to check)

followers: ~400

average hours of sleep: lmao

lucky number: i’m partial to multiples of 3

instruments: smtimes i drum on the dashboard and it is simply atrocious

what am i wearing: pervy, but — joggers, one of those athletic shirts which i deffo don’t use for working out i just like the thumb holes, a scrunchie and too many multicolored hair clips

dream trip: tentatively planning a summer road trip to new orleans w a couple gal pals, and that abt covers it

favorite food: chicken tendies, babeeeey

nationality: american

favorite song: TOO HARD but anything that equates religion w romantic/sexual love & worship is god tier (also currently “good” by wrabel is fucking up my feelings smthn fierce)

last book read: my own, i’m trying to fckin edit here

top 3 fictional worlds to live in: i would only want to live in one of my own personal creation and i am Not emotionally vulnerable enough to tell y’all abt that

tagging: whoever feels like it, go absolutely wild beebees

[piccolina-mina]

Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?

Fandom: Roswell, New Mexico

Characters: Rosa Ortecho, Alex Manes

A/N: I’m late, but it’s still yesterday somewhere! I don’t quite know what this is, and it’s angstier than I imagined, but you know me, I wing it. 

This is for you, @suzteel! A little something for a very special person on her special day. Love & Hugs. Always. :)

—–

“The coast is clear, kid.” Alex tossed Rosa the keys to his truck and smirked at her scowl over the term of endearment.

She snatched the keys out of the air and climbed into the driver’s seat with ease. She stopped herself from telling him to move his ass.

He was more gracious than anyone when it came to her faux pas as she struggled to adjust to how different the world was around her now.

She never had to censor herself with him. They both were blunt and without filters, and it was one of the reasons she didn’t mind when he used to tag along behind her when he was a kid, or she was a kid, or they were kids, or something.

He was like the little brother she never wanted, but now, now she didn’t know how to see him. But of all the things she had to adjust to, he felt the most familiar and comfortable.

Emo rights or some shit. And even though the man she was cruising with wasn’t the same as the teen she knew before she was killed, he was still in there, somewhere.

“Stop calling me ‘kid.’ I don’t care what I look like, I’m still older than you,” she hissed.

It felt good to squeeze the steering wheel, let her dark hair whip around her as they picked up speed, nothing but desert ahead of them and Fall Out Boy blaring.

“Someone needs to tell Liz that too,” she bit at her thumb even though her nails were bitten down to the nubs. “She keeps mothering me.”

“In her defense, you do look 12,"Alex deadpanned.

"Fuck you,” she mumbled. She rolled her eyes when he chuckled low and deep.

She used to love his hearty laugh and big smile, and she hadn’t seen or heard either since she … returned. He was always haunted, but this time, it was for deeper reasons, and she didn’t know what to do with any of that.

Her thumbnail went to her mouth again. Ten years of being frozen in time meant she still had an oral fixation she couldn’t quit. She didn’t smoke. She stopped, but she needed …

She took her eyes off the road for a moment when she heard the rustling beside her. Alex had a candy bag in hand. He yanked out a couple of suckers, popped one in his mouth and handed her the other.

The sweet and tartness on her tongue triggered memories, but more importantly, it put her at ease.

“I’m told it helps,” he said stealing a look in her direction. She could feel him studying her intensely.

He always had a way of peering through a person, and somehow that skill was enhanced with time and age.

They sailed pass a billboard advertising legal aid specializing in immigration law. Her vision clouded over, dark specks belying her anger, and she internally counted backwards to ground herself.

“That persimmon pendejo is president, the planet is self-destructing … I come back from the dead, and it’s worse than hell,” she sighed.

She bit down on the sucker and tried to assuage the ball of anxiety bubbling up. She worried about her papi, and it was made worse by the fact that she couldn’t lay eyes on him.

She felt Alex studying her again, his intense gaze burning the side of her face until she couldn’t take it anymore.

She replayed the last few moments in hopes of pinpointing what set him off again. Then, “I didn’t go to hell,” she said quietly.

The small exhalation he let out was the only sign he gave her that it was his concern. She stole a glance his way.

His expression was as stoic as ever, but as usual, his eyes gave him away. He was terrified, but also relieved.

It was something they never spoke about in great detail, but it was something she knew he wondered about.

He didn’t speak of his own ghosts, but she sensed them the second she wrapped him into her arms again. He was haunted, whatever had taken place in the decade since she last saw him – war, loss – it weighed heavily on him.

“The last thing I remember is her – him, –it..” she squinted at the sun, busied herself snagging a pair of his sunglasses from the cupholder and shoving them on.

If she shielded her face she wouldn’t feel so exposed under his scrutiny.

“No worries, kid,” she tried to lighten the mood and mock him with the endearment. “If there is an afterlife, I don’t remember a second of it. I guess I haven’t paid for my sins yet,” she shrugged.

“So I can’t give you solace if you’re afraid about paying for yours.” She knew she struck a nerve when his eyes darted away.

“My sins are darker than yours, squirt.”

She let the attempt to get under her skin go.

“You’re a good person, cabron. I have known you your entire,” she shook her head and swore under her breath. “I have known you for most of your life. You’re one of the best people I’ve known. War or whatever else you’ve gotten yourself into over the past few years doesn’t change that. I know your heart, bro. ”

“Bro?” He scoffed. It was a misdirect as he choked back the emotion that rose in his throat.

She didn’t respond, merely pulled over at one of her favorite spots. There were a different set of caves, and they always brought her peace or something akin to it.

It was different than what she remembered. Everything was different than she remembered.

“I thought when I was gone things would be better.” She reached across the seat snagging another sucker and popped it in her mouth.

“I mean, I didn’t plan on,” she felt his dark eyes boring into her face again searching, always searching. “I planned on leaving, before I died, I planned on leaving.”

“I thought that when I was gone things would be better for the people I care about. But even my death caused more harm for those who gave a shit, and even in my absence things fell apart,” she picked at her nail and stared off into the distance, the wind making flyaway hair dance within her line of sight.

“I would have at least hoped my death mattered. That if I had to die, at least it meant something, but catching up on everything has taught me that it was meaningless.”

She tossed the half-eaten sucker out the window. It no longer gave her the satisfaction it did before.

“Liz still came back to this place. She should have stayed away, but she came back, and look at what she’s in? All I wanted is for her to be free of this place, and she’s right back here heart deep in alien shit.”

“She did get away, Rosa,” Alex reached out and tentatively touched her hand.

“She traveled. She completed her list. She went to school and pursued the career she wanted,” he rested his head on the back of the seat, and it was the most relaxed he looked in a while.

“Maria didn’t get to follow her dreams. She wanted out of here, and now it’s ten years later, and she’s still stuck behind a bar trying to make ends meet and taking care of Mimi. Christ, there’s nothing fair about that.”

“Life happens, Rosa,” Alex sighed. Whether he was unfazed or resigned, she couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, I know. And death,” she closed her eyes and turned her face up toward the sun.

“My papi could be put in a damn cage like an animal at any moment, and my birth father is dead. So many questions left unanswered.”

“I still can’t believe you and Kyle are related,” Alex chuckled. “It actually makes sense now though.”

“I’m being serious here and you’re deflecting with jokes? Typical. And Kyle and I are nothing alike.”

“He was an asshole in high school. It’s true, but he’s a good man. You should try getting to know your big-little brother better.”

“You used to be my favorite and now I’m reconsidering my position on that,” she shoved him, and he laughed like he did when he was young, gangly, and unburdened.

“Easy there, Valenti.” It earned him another shove until they both were laughing.

“That was easy. I’m saving the real hurting for the Valenti with a dick. I swear if he brings me another teen magazine, I’m going to gauge his eyes out.”

“See? You’re acting like siblings already. You have obnoxious little sister in the bag.”

“First of all, it’s big sister. Second, you and Kyle can kiss my ass,” she said it with heat, but Alex’s bemused expression made her smirk against her better judgment.

“Kyle is, annoyingly perfect, but it’s going to take a while. It’s going to take longer if he treats me like one of his teen patients.”

“Yeah, that has more to do with Kyle than you, I promise.”

“I would thank you for being the only one who isn’t treating me differently, or like a child, but I would hate for it to go to your head.”

He flashed her one of the first genuine smiles she saw since she reunited with him. “Too late, Rosa. I already know I’m your favorite.”

The laughter in his eyes warmed her heart. Alex was so guarded with everyone else. They didn’t think she picked up on these things, but she did.

“And then there’s you. Finding out you enlisted …”

His smile vanished as quickly as it came, and she damn near saw the walls go up. “You think I’m a poser.”

“I think you’re a survivor,” she said instantly without thought. She didn’t have to think about it because it was true.

“I just hate you had to lose pieces of yourself to prove something to that dickwad dad of yours.”

Alex averted his eyes, and suddenly he was 14 again, and Rosa was reading through him like no one else could.

“Maybe no one else will point it out, but that’s what happened. And I hate that for you. I hate that you didn’t get to follow the path you chose for yourself instead of his,” she spewed. Her heart raced with anger and guilt.

She knew the odds of her being alive wouldn’t have changed some of the outcomes, but she was just enough of a masochist to think maybe if she were around she could have.

Her eyes flickered to his. Both sets glassy with unshed tears and emotion they withheld as if their lives depended on it.

Maybe both of them realized a long time ago that sometimes their lives did.

“But I’m living proof it’s never too late to find yourself. I’m getting a second chance I never expected to…” she released a puff of air and grabbed Alex’s chin.

It was strong and firm, the stubble prickled her skin, and it was a far cry from the last time she had done it.

“I still see him in there. The darkness you’re afraid has consumed you, it hasn’t beaten him out. Remember? That’s a strong ass guy who could take a beating. And now he can kick ass too.” Her sly grin made him return one in kind.

“He’s still there, just stronger and older. And you gotta stop hiding him away. I’m not the only one who was resurrected. That part of you is trying to come back too. Let him. You’ll be much happier with it.”

He sniffled, swallowing back emotions again, and she raised her brow but didn’t say anything.

“Are you done, obi-wan kenobi?”

“God, you’re still on that Star Wars shit?” She snorted. “See? Still a dork.”

“This is why I love you more than your brother,” he joked.

“Fair,” she quipped. “But I’m serious Alex.”

He sighed. “I know. All the things you could do now, and you’re trying to fix me?”

“Well, you’re not irrevocably broken, just a little lost,” she tangled her fingers with his. “We both are.”

“I can’t fix any of the other shit with Liz, or my father, or Maria and Mimi, but your shit can be fixed, and I can help you. I’m not afraid of the dark, and we both need to find the light.”

He snorted at her cheesiness, but accepted it for what it was. For the first time in years, he felt seen again.“We do like that dark shit.”

“Damn right we do.”

She hooked her pinky with his and had a flashback to warm summer nights painting each other’s nails black and listening to the latest obscure band.

She wouldn’t mention the occasional bruise blooming on skin hidden away, and he wouldn’t comment on how twitchy she was for her next fix, but the camaraderie in those moments sustained them.

He popped his sucker in his mouth and smiled at the gesture. She imagined he was recalling those nights too.

“You’re good at that,” she nodded at the sugary treat in his mouth. “Lotta practice over the years?” She asked suggestively.

She was pleased with herself when his face went red and he nearly choked.

“You’re as bad as Maria and twice as crude,” he sputtered.

“Some things never change then,” she started the truck back up. “You don’t have to tell me now. You can tell me when we get there.”

“Um, get where?” He stiffened in his seat and narrowed his eyes sensing she was up to no good.“ Get where, Rosa?”

She tossed her bag into his lap and shot him a mischievous grin. It grew wider when he swore profusely as he pulled out the assortment of spray cans.

Her fingers were itching to create something, and it felt like forever since she tagged something, made art, left pieces of herself she had control over somewhere – left the mark she wanted and not the one chosen for her.

For her, it was a release she had been craving, but for him it would be a walk down memory lane to the days when he would occasionally play look out.

“So what do you say, Sergeant?” Her voice took a conspiratorial tone. “Are you in or are you going to chicken out on me?”

His face was unreadable for a moment, but then there was that familiar light in his eyes.

“Fuck it. Why not?”

She threw her head back and laughed, and he turned the music up as they sped down the highway.

[god-fucking-dammit-mizutani]

Moonlight Mile 2

Rating: G | Word Count: ~5200 Pairing: Taishirou Chapter: 2/3 Tags: Summer Camp AU Part 1  | Read on Ao3

Across the field the early morning sun has ascended just above the tree line, slipping enough light under the propped open window boards to lighten the rec room cum mess hall in a gentle haze.

“I get it,” Mimi declares. Every curl in her hair shines with the vibrant hues of an artificial sunrise. The metal star clips fastened between each ringlet soaks up the sun and reflects little rainbows off the walls, the ceiling, the table.

Taichi stares up at her, watches her chew in an oddly considering way. The slight nip in the air causes his sleep deprived eyes to burn.

“You do?” Jyou asks around his fork. She nods at him, vigorously.

One of the little rainbow lights comes to arc over the back of Taichi's hand. He tries to pin the intangible light beam down with the weight of his fingertips, but they slip away when Mimi turns back to him. She raises her fork up nearly towards the center of his eyes in lieu of her pointer finger.

“What's more surprising than someone being in love you, right?”

“Oh, right!” Jyou thumps a closed fist into his open palm, exclaiming, “I get it!” He smiles brightly as Mimi beams back at him. Taichi's only seen Jyou look this excited when it rains during his field duties and everyone gets stuck inside playing board games and foosball.

“Wow,” Taichi says, dragging the syllable out.

“Not you, you,” Jyou puts in, sheepishly. He makes a gesture Taichi isn't really sure means anything. “But the general you, you know?”

Mimi pulls back her fork and wields it against Jyou next, swiping a few of his tater tots with a single stab. He glares at her, but Mimi just smiles. Jyou moves his tray just a few inches over, using the bulk of his shoulder to ward off any further invasions on his breakfast.

Taichi blinks up at them and then turns away, resting his cheek down on the table. They’re the sort he remembers using in elementary school and if he angles it just right, the laminate surface feels cool and inviting, like an ice pack for his swollen eyes. Beyond the windows, the outside world is quiet. Taichi watches as the wind ruffles through tree branches and thinks about his mother running her hand through his bangs, cooing and asking if he feels well. Taichi’s not sure.

“Come on, Taichi,” Jyou begs softly. He hums in response.

“Don't worry about him,” Mimi says. “Taichi's like a rubber band, he'll snap back.” He hears a crisp woosh over his head and Mimi shouts.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Jyou asks. Taichi tilts his head until his chin lays flat on the edge, watching Mimi wave her hand erratically. There's an angry, red bracelet of skin Taichi knows wasn't there before. It sits under the thick part of her palm, just barely covered by a hot pink hair tie.

“I was proving a point,” she whines. She rubs the mark with her other hand, frowning pitifully.

“It’s not good to wear those things on your wrist anyway,” Jyou adds, frowning.

Taichi laughs, a short little huff through his nose, but it's enough to steal back their attention. They smile at him.

Jyou's eyes flicker over the crown of Taichi's head and they widen momentarily. Taichi doesn't have to look up to know what's caught his attention. Jyou always insists on sitting where he can keep his eyes on the clock despite having a perfectly functioning wristwatch.

He slides his tray over to Mimi's awaiting hands. In her excitement the fork clears straight through the styrofoam, but it doesn't deter her from wiping the debris off the pronged tips and popping another tater tot into her mouth. Jyou winces. Taichi snorts.

“That’s just unsanitary, Mimi,” he says in a high whine already ambling to his feet. Mimi shrugs. “You don't know the last time these tables were washed.”

Mimi snaps her gaze up to him, cheeks puffed up in a pout. “Of course I do!” she shouts. Several people behind them whip their heads around to gander at the outburst. Taichi waves them off and they return quickly to their meals. “Because I washed them. Last night.”

Jyou keeps his nose wrinkled up at her.

“Not that I'm complaining,” she continues, “but there's still ten minutes left. You have plenty of time.”

“But the allergy kids, Mimi,” Taichi puts in just as Jyou follows up with, “but the kids with allergies will be coming in soon, Mimi.”

Mimi looks back to Taichi and they both giggle.

“I just want to be diligent,” Jyou sniffs at them. When his eyes meet Taichi's, a light smile lifts the frown lines along his face. “Hope you feel better, Taichi.”

“Thanks,” Taichi drawls, letting his forehead thunk against the table. It does nothing for the aching in his brain, but the darkness greets him like a comfortable friend. “Have fun getting puked on.”

“I will,” Jyou says back. Taichi makes a face, unseen, because he's not sure if Jyou's being facetious. His footsteps slowly become indistinct among the other camper’s, now little more than the white noise around them.

But Jyou’s still lingering at the far end of the building when Taichi tilts his head that way, giving his other eye a minutes reprieve with the cold surface. A camper wiggles and kicks in his arms, knocking a chair in front of her to the ground. It’s the one that usually keeps the back door propped open, Taichi notices with an amused snort. He’s seen campers and counselors alike through the years pull the chair from it’s post to climb that particular wall because it’s there—the sloppy red-purple stain that haunts the rec room. Even when the rest of the paint and plaster had eroded away, it had remained, stubbornly attached to the crown molding.

Taichi’s heard the rumors, the urban legends; they’ve evolved over the years from the stain being an ominous mark of the apocalypse to a symbol of good luck if you can reach high enough to slap the vibrant blemish with the full of your palm. Taichi’s never believed any of them. Mostly because he remembers putting it there himself after chucking his cranberry juice at Yamato when they were eleven. It’s his greatest regret, missing so poorly.

He can almost hear Jyou across the room, giving his lecture on the dangers of falling from high places as he ushers the camper back to her seat. He takes the chair back out with him, pushing the door open with the broadness of his back. Taichi watches him notice someone in the distance, waving as the door falls shut, Jyou on the other end of it. The slam echoes along the arched ceilings, over the shuffling and rabble of the campers, but no one seems to mind it. Taichi watches the door, though, his heart holding on a beat as the handle jiggles and someone pulls it back open.

Koushirou, notoriously late to breakfast, keeps to predictable this morning. He pushes the chair up against the door and fiddles with it a moment, making sure it’ll hold before stepping up into the rec hall. Across the room his dark eyes meet Taichi's for a moment, and they look, somehow, as if he’d gotten less sleep than when Taichi had last seen him.  

Taichi looks away, shoving his half eaten tray into Mimi’s hoard and let's his forehead rest against the table again.

“Hey, Taichi?” Mimi calls him gently. Her hand sits gently on the crown of his head. Taichi welcomes the chill of her fingers where they graze his scalp in soft waves of her hand. “If you don't feel good, you can switch with me today. Or I'm sure Jyou will let you sit out in the first aid tent.”

Taichi looks back up at her again. Mimi's smile is sweet, serene, and it makes his heart both swell and ache. For how much the three of them banter, Taichi enjoys her company, and Jyou’s. But he wishes, too, that Sora were here. He thinks she'd know exactly what to say, but Taichi has no way to contact her.

He props his arm up on the table, rests his cheek inside the cup of his palm, and tries his best to smile. “Thanks Mimi,” he tells her, voice hushed under layers of fatigue. “I'm just super tired.”

“You sure?”

Taichi nods, his eyes following the motion without his permission. He yawns. “I'll let you know if I change my mind.”

*

On the field, under the sun, Taichi thrives. Usually.

The listless cloud that had kept him company through the morning has since evaporated, the pull of his eyes to remain shut, gone. It feels like every ounce of his blood has been replaced by static, the crackle of it deafening in his ears. He wants to believe it's his natural habitat: the bright skies, the echo of laughter ringing in the air. But he knows it has everything to do with his unlikely company.

Taichi looks behind him, the top of his head scraping along the ground where he’s splayed himself across the slope of the hill nearest the field. Most of the counselors usually hide up in the shade, under the trees at the plateaued top. Taichi prefers being under the sun himself. Koushirou is of the former group, and Taichi understands why, his skin an unhappy shade of red. Taichi watches him struggle with a near-empty bottle of sunblock, alternating between squeezing and slapping the bottom, until it finally deposits the last dollop of lotion into his hand with an undignified plop. Koushirou’s nose wrinkles at the noise, dismayed.

Taichi watches his expression turn to a grimace when he slaps it against his face. He hasn't worn sunblock in so long himself, but his skin still feels the sympathetic prickle of cold as Kouhsirou soothes the lotion into his cheeks.

He notices Taichi's stare a moment later, dark eyes quiet and inquisitive. There is a moment Taichi has to fight the urge to look away.

“Yes?” Koushirou asks. He breaks eye contact to tug his laptop back into the seat of his lap. Taichi can only see the sprout of his hair, darkened by the shade above him, just over the lip of the the back of it. Which is fine. Taichi wasn't going to tell him where he'd missed spots along his face, anyway.

Taichi breathes in and the scent of sun and sweat and everything quintessentially summer wafts in through his nostrils. "It smells like barbeque," he says. To Koushirou's back, a small distance away, is a thicket of woods. Just beyond that is a residential haven, where Taichi hears the owner of the camp lives in a rather sizable craftsman house with a large acre of land for his two large dogs to run around. Taichi only knows about the dogs because they sometimes find their way to camp through the woods, jumping out of the bushes when campers have their lunch out on the lawn on nice days. The old man's daughter used to be Taichi's counselors for years, but now she's some high powered attorney in a big city.

He wonders if she's visiting now, and they're celebrating in that big old craftsman house with the dogs begging under the deck tables. Taichi's stomach growls with envy.

He rolls over onto his stomach, legs kicking up behind him and dismantling grass from the bottom of his shoes as Taichi swings them. He cradles his chin in his hands and watches the bob of Koushirou's hair over the edge of his laptop back. His lower thighs burn where the sun rests upon them. He takes in a deep breath and adds, "and Dr. Pepper." “That's oddly specific."

“Dr. Pepper is very distinct,” Taichi insists. This time when he sniffs, it has nothing has nothing to do with scent.

The clacking of keys stops momentarily. Koushirou tugs down the screen of his laptop until his eyes find Taichi's. It feels like he's staring back down the barren forest roads, deep in the thick of midnight, and Taichi can't seem to breathe in deep enough.

Koushirou sniffs at the air, brows furrowed deep. One of his hands comes up to curl around his chin. Taichi's seen the pose in movies before, the ones with mad scientists and rampaging monsters. Koushirou sniffs again, and the look on his face is the epitome of perplexed.

He should look confused more often, Taichi decides.

“Interesting,” Koushirou mutters. He lifts the screen back up with his other hand and the clicking starts again, but he’s still murmuring to himself. Taichi only understands every other word because he thinks Koushirou's still talking into his palm.

“Would you say it's—”

Koushirou snorts. “Don't start.”

“Come on,” Taichi whines. “You're berry un-raisin-able, Koushirou.”

Unexpectedly, Koushirou laughs.

It's raspy, but loud, and Taichi thinks the toothy smile Koushirou sports could have brightened their way home. His laptop slips from between his crossed legs, gingerly tapping the grass as he falls back, clutching at his stomach and Taichi can't help his own smile.

He can hear some of the kids on the field wondering about Koushirou’s health, asking if they should get Jyou, if heat stroke is contagious. Taichi turns over, crunching to a sitting position and waves them off. Half of them have taken up sitting in the grass, pulling up blades and stray weeds and tossing them at each other. A large group has started playing cards under the goalie posts. Taichi wonders if they'll get in trouble for not watching them properly today, and finds that he can't really muster up the energy to care.

Koushirou has righted himself by the time Taichi peeks back over his shoulder. He's rubbing under his eyes, face still blotchy with speckles of white. He wonders if Koushirou's one of those kids who gets freckles in the sun.

“Can I ask you something?” Rushes out of Taichi's mouth. Koushirou stills, hand already grabbing at his laptop. Taichi doesn't know if the red on his face is from lack of oxygen, or sunburn. It's almost indistinct in the shade.

“The more we talk, the more onerous it is to terminate this feeling.”

Taichi frowns. He looks back at the field, his own fingers skimming along the ground and plucking a few blades of grass when he finds them. It used to be green here, when the sprinklers were used in the summer. Now there's mostly patches of yellowed land that can't quite be called grass or dirt. He sits his collection upon his thigh. Taichi's always been dark, but the skin sitting just under his shorts is almost starkly pale compared to the bits that have been sun-touched.

“Why did you decide to come here—”

But Taichi doesn't know if his question ever makes Koushirou's ear as a shrill tweet cuts through the air. He checks his watch immediately. Five minutes to lunch.

The time doesn't seem to deter campers, or counselors, from leaving their posts. Kids clamber out from every hidden view, from the archery grove and the arts and crafts “tent”, yelling and waving and rushing their way to the mess hall.

Taichi looks back. Koushirou's laptop has already been packed, holstered to his back. His face is down, unreadable, but Taichi watches the sway of a bright orange whistle thump against his standard issued counselor’s shirt.

He watches him go without a word. Even among the crowd, Taichi can pinpoint the shock of red hair maneuvering around a sea of children. He's barely taller than the median age groups.

When he's disappeared into the old building, Taichi turns away. Across the field Hikari stares at him. He can make out the gesture of her finger tapping her wrist, and he shrugs.

*

“Don't move.”

Taichi opens one eye. A little girl glares down at him, tugging his hand closer to her eye level. Taichi sighs.

“I said don’t move!” she reiterates. She loops a key ring around his pointer finger. Taichi watches her weave gel threads together in what he can only assume is a lizard. Maybe a crocodile.

“Why is this happening to me?” he asks no one in particular.

There isn't much sun that reaches through the canopy of trees, but there's enough light for Taichi to notice the shadow hovering over him.

Hikari smiles down at Taichi. “Well,” she starts, tapping his nose with the feathery end of a paintbrush, “if you're going to lay on the table, then you're going to become it.”

“You don't paint on tables,” Taichi says, narrowing his eyes. Hikari giggles.

Taichi kicks his legs minutely. There’s barely enough room to accommodate six kids sitting up, and so Taichi's legs dangle over the edge. When they smack back down he winces where the wood bites in the plump of his calves. At the far end a little boy shouts.

“I'm going to make you into Miko,” Hikari decides.

She disappears from above him and Taichi breathes in deeply. This corner of camp smells unevenly of paints and sunblock, but above it all the scent of aloe vera is thick. The tickling sensation in his leg returns, the little boy focusing back on his masterpiece blooming along Taichi’s leg. He cranes his neck to try to gain a sneak peek of it, but a few other heads bob in and out of the way, some of the kids using his stomach to hold up their papers. On his free hand, a kid looks up at him with a bright, almost toothless, grin. His brush strokes leaves a colorful trail of paint along his nails.

“I'm going to look like pastel Frankenstein,” he whines. He doesn't really mind, but the outburst gains him several giggles from around the table. He wonders if they get the reference. Hikari returns, smiling back down at him, holding up a small, wooden palette. There's a splatter of old, caked-in paints, but the only fresh color is a giant dollop of black.

“Pastel Frankenstein’s monster,” she corrects him.

Hikari wets the tip of her brush and leans back over Taichi. He scrunches his nose at her as the first, cold plop of paint hits his skin, but Hikari doesn't even reprimand him for it. She looks peaceful, concentrating on her own art, as if she were crafting her magnum opus. She swipes three dark lines on his cheeks, up to his hairline and Taichi thinks she may have gotten some in his hair. The tree branches above them sway in the light breeze, shadows dancing along her face, as she drops three identical marks to his other side.

A crisp whistle in the field signals dinnertime starting in the rec hall. Hikari gets the campers to put their supplies back and Taichi lifts a bucket of water to splash over their hands as they scrub away the evidence of their activities. He fills it back up with a hose attached to the old shed, as the campers scamper off across the way. Hikari organizes the paints together, ordering them into a display of splotchy rainbow containers along the repurposed bookshelf. “So what's wrong?” she asks without looking up.

Taichi frowns. “Why does something have to be wrong?” He takes in a deep breath. “Why are you psychic?”

“You always take Mimi's field shifts for her,” Hikari says, breathing a laugh. “It's just reasonable to think something big must have happened if she was willing to take your spot.”

“She said, and I quote,” Taichi brings up his fingers to create the quotes himself in the air for emphasis, “‘I can finally work on my tan.’ I'm doing her a favor.”

Hikari smiles wryly at him. She strides back over to the table and collects the abandoned paint brushes and twirls them, one by one, into a mason jar until the water turns a dark, murky gray. Taichi takes the brushes from her and dries them off on a paper towel, until the repurposed soup can that houses the camp's paintbrushes is, just barely, full.

“Someone confessed to me,” Taichi says, suddenly, “kind of. I think.” he scratches the back of his neck, a rosy burn spreading across his skin. Hikari looks up at him from wiping paint offfrom the plastic art palettes.

“A camper?” she asks. When he says nothing she guesses, “Another counselor?”

Taichi sits down across from her. He folds his arms and rests against them, until he's looking up at Hikari.

“It's not your first love confession,” she mentions, turning back to her task. “So what's bothering you about this one?”

Taichi watches the shade freckle her cheeks, the sun sit in her amber eyes until they shine golden. “He said he's been in love with me since fifth grade.”

“How sweet.” She means it and Taichi frowns.

“Sure,” he drawls out. He can barely hear himself over the thudding of his heart, the beat of it aching in his limbs. Talking about it more has done nothing for his nerves and it frustrates him. “I guess it would be nice, except I only just met him at camp. This year.”

Hikari doesn't seem phased. “Maybe he met you in school,” she reasons. “One of your classes or clubs or something.”

She takes to cleaning up the table next, rousing Taichi from his resting spot. He almost asks her to thank him, his skin and uniform having taken the brunt of every real mess. But he knows she'll just remind him that he had a choice for where to nap. Maybe he should have taken the risk of getting puked on and rested in the first aid tent instead.

“I would have remembered him if he was in my school, Hikari.” He frowns. “I'm not that oblivious.”

“No,” she agrees, snorting. “But you are a social butterfly. And sometimes a jerk. I'm sure there's people you forget all the time. Sometimes on purpose. Like how you ignored Yamato’s existence for half a summer after he told Sora about your little crush.”

“We don't talk about that year.” Taichi glares at her without any real heat. He'd been at fault for Hikari getting sent home early; Taichi had spent half of camp fretting over whether he'd be an only child after the state she had left in. Their mother had been furious, and he almost thought he’d end up an orphan, too.

Hikari pins him back with one her own glares, the weight of it drooping his shoulders. “That's exactly what I'm talking about.” She takes a deep breath and tells him, “I think you need to talk to this guy directly, otherwise you're never going to get the answers you want.”

Hikari gives him a once over and snorts.

“You should probably wash up before dinner, Taichi,” she tells him from behind her hand, the laughter shining in her eyes. Taichi wrinkles his nose at her and that doesn't really help his case at all.

But he says, “Thanks,” and ruffles her hair on his way past her.

*

Just before the showers, Taichi hangs left.

His fingers graze through the chain link fence, the metal clicking and vibrating as he walks by. The pool hasn't contained anything but grime and litter since Taichi was fourteen, but it's also overflowing with years of memories. He kissed a boy on a dare, once, in the deep end for five bucks, right under the diving board. Joke had been on Yamato, though, because Taichi had kind of wanted to anyway, but cheating him out of his snack money had been like a price for reinstating their friendship that year.

Taichi grips the pole at the far end and swings his weight around it momentarily. The rod shakes in it's cement shoes and Taichi releases his hold, clenching his fists through the chain link on the opposite side.

Last year they’d hopped the fence, him and Sora and Yamato, after lights out, their stash of an entire summer’s worth of snacks dropping from their arms like a fairy tale trail of their misdeeds. Taichi frowns. It was going to be tradition, they had decided, agreed even when they spent the whole next day in the first aid tent, clutching their stomachs. He squeezes the fence tightly and then continues down the lake path behind the abandoned pool.

Even in twilight gnats hover tightly to Taichi's face along the trail. No amount of swatting shakes them, but Taichi knows this. It is absolutely out of habit.

Campers greet him on their way up, some of the more familiar faces jumping up to give him a high five. Some stop him to take pictures, complimenting Taichi on his new look. He thinks Hikari would be proud.

It's the best time to visit the lake, when everyone else is eating. Plus, it's Takeru's shift to watch the canoes, and he sometimes let's Taichi take one out if he helps fish out the stray life jackets and paddles tossed between the avenues of land and water.

Taichi stutters to a halt when he reaches the mouth of the beach.

Koushirou’s got the fabric of his khakis rolled up high on his knees, to no avail. They're already dark with damp as he splashes along the lakeshore, a small little grunt escaping his lips from the strength it takes him to heft one of the canoes up along it’s brethren on the beach. His hair is as radiant under the evening sun as it is in contrast to the night sky and Taichi frowns as he pads down the sand, coming up alongside him to share in the burden of the canoe’s weight.

"You're not Takeru," he mutters.

Koushirou startles, his fingers slipping from the lip of the helm, but his momentum continues backwards and he drops into the lake with a distinctive plop.

A heartbeat passes between them before Taichi throws his own head back, howling with laughter as he pulls the canoe up on the sand. Koushirou watches him, offering no help. His eyes look so impossibly wide, the sort of deep you can swim in, drown in, and Taichi pushes back the urge to offer him a hand purely out of spite.

He surveys the lake for any straggling gear before he drops himself on the shore, tucking his knees up towards his chest, his shoes squelching with every move. He grimaces, wishing he’d had the foresight to toe them off before trekking through the lake. The fabric of his pants chafing uncomfortably against his knees. Below that, his calves looks bruised, splotchy with a plethora of colors bleeding together where the kid’s painting had been compromised by the splashes of water. He never did remember to look.

"Where's blondie?" Taichi finally asks.  

"He's—we—" Koushiro splutters. His face tilts down, exposing the reddened nape of his neck. He manages eventually to say, "T.K. offered to switch with me after lunch.”

To not see me, something tells Taichi. "I couldn’t procure any additional sunblock," is what Koushirou tells him. Water drips from his bangs where his trip into the lake had splashed back up at him. "Jyou said he only had enough to spare for the kids until the next supply run." Koushirou turns to look at him, backlit by the evening sun and static charges in every one of Taichi's muscles. He grips a flat rock in the palm of his hand and tosses it just to the left of Koushirou. It glides quietly along the surface and sinks seamlessly into the folds of a languid wave.

Koushirou picks himself up and plops down a decent distance from Taichi. He notices since they’d last seen each other that the little bits of block he’d neglected to warn Koushirou about have been properly applied now. "Did it hurt today?" Taichi asks. Koushiro blinks at him and Taichi grabs for another rock indiscriminately. It hits the water less gracefully, like a belly flop among swan dives. "Your sunburn." "Oh, " Koushirou says.  "Just an iota." "Remember to apply aloe vera or it won't heal well." "I will," Koushirou replies. There's a smile in his voice that Taichi can just imagine blooming shyly on his thin lips and his stomach pinches.  "Thank you.”

He’s not the only one who seems to notice anything new, Koushirou’s eyes following from Taichi’s hairline, down to the tips of shoes.

“You look—”

“Don’t,” Taichi says, narrowing his eyes at the tight smile on the other’s lip.

“Glamourpuss,” Koushirou finishes in an absolute deadpan. “That was—”Taichi breaks his own sentence, laughing as Koushirou joins him “—the worst.”

“I purrceived as much.” Taichi sends him a look. “Just simple purrvenge."

Taichi groans and for a while the lake echoes with their laughter.

Wildlife chatters around them, fills in the eventual silence that settles between them, twilight critters stirring in the brush. A little chipmunk pokes out from the corner of Taichi's eyes and swiftly pilfers a forgotten batch of fruit snacks. He bets Koushirou would probably know the exact taxonomy of the little rodent. He probably knows every bird by their chirping alone, because the little that he knows of Koushiro is that Koushirou knows probably everything and Taichi doesn't.

"You said you were in love with me, you know?" Taichi breathes out. It feels like the exhale after taking a soccer ball to the gut. "You wanted me to shock you," Koushirou says smartly. His toe digs a short line in the dense sand, water lapping his toes with swift licks. His face colors, filling in the gaps where the sun hadn't touched. "Enamoured might have been...superlative." Taich breathes out again. "You don't feel anything for me, then?" The breeze shakes the branches above them, swims through the lake like a current. A fish breaches the surface, the only evidence of its ascent a strong, circular ripple. Taichi reaches for another stone and tosses it a good few feet into the water. It takes several steps this time before plummeting. He clutches a new one, but let’s his hand rest in the space between them. Taichi wonders if Koushirou would take it, is considering it, and his heart pounds.

"This lake is so sedentary," Koushirou says instead. "Do you think it's still down there?" Taichi narrows his eyes. Between them is a basin of questions that seems to be ever flowing, yet never emptying. "What?" This time, Koushirou picks at a rock instead. It's heavy and when it plops into the lake not too far from them, water droplets rain and scatter until there's an orchestra of ripples along the shore. A few drops land on Taichi's leg. "The headrest.” Taichi stares at him. There's a glint of mischief in his darks eyes that twinkles and Taichi thinks of stars, galaxies and it feels oddly fitting because Koushirou always seems to be somewhere close, but elusive.

“Fifty dollars says I can retrieve it by the end of the summer."

Taichi looks at the lake, the very last rays of the evening light dipping beneath the trees on the farshore and he licks his lips. "Deal."

[piper-aileen-lenox]

@shutteredfocus​

It was easy to forget that Mark had friends outside their little gang of eight. After all, most of his time was spent in the loft they both shared with Roger, and any time that wasn’t spent cooped up inside, he was usually wandering around the city, looking for things to film. While she couldn’t account for most of the time he spent outside of their apartment, Piper had always kind of assumed that his wandering was an independent venture. This was partially because it was a rare that she, or any of the rest of them, tagged along, and partially because of the assumption that he didn’t have anyone else who would join him on his little excursions. Mark had a certain awkwardness to him that made it hard to imagine that he’d reach out to strangers on his own, so, it probably was a generally fair assumption to make that he wouldn’t have some secret friends that they all knew nothing about.

Unfortunately, she turned out to be wrong. Not that she could stay particularly upset about it, given the fact that this revelation came with an invitation to go screw around at Coney Island for the evening. The promise of funnel cake was enough to heal any wound. 

Although, as she’d found as the night dragged on, it didn’t seem to dull the sting of being all but abandoned by her friends. Roger and Mimi had wandered off on their own almost as soon as they’d walked through the gates, Maureen had dragged Joanne away when they’d passed a striped tent labelled, “PSYCHIC,” Collins had promised to go win Angel a giant teddy bear from the midway, and most recently, Mark had gone off in search of a tolerable port-a-potty to use. Which left her alone with this man with a vaguely familiar face that Mark had cited as his reason for dragging them all out to Brooklyn, trying to save them from standing in silence for however long it took Mark to take a piss.

“This is why I should never do anything with an odd number of people. It doesn’t matter how many people there are, I will always end up third wheeling because everyone else ends up coupling off.” Her tone has no real bitterness to it, but it doesn’t seem to be quite playful either. It was more of a sarcastic indictment of their current, uncomfortable situation. “The trouble is, I’m not sure if that’s a sign that I should make more friends or just push you into the Hudson Bay.”

[the-primordialburst]

SEXUAL TRAITS

COPY & PASTE. DO NOT REBLOG.

BOLD - APPLIES ALWAYS. ITALIC - APPLIES SOMETIMES. STRIKE - DEFINITE NO’S.

TAGGED BY: stolen from @nuova-luna​ TAGGING: @assistant-of-evil​ and anyone else 

INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual|identifies as pansexual |identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | neither - takes cum other way  | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive| average sex drive | high sex drive (It switches around) | hypersexual

BODY/APPEARANCE:

small build | medium build | athletic build | muscular build | curvy build| voluptuous build | stocky build | chubby )| fat | boxers | briefs | boxer-briefs | wears lingerie | goes ‘commando’| shaves/waxes | doesn’t shave/wax | cup size a-c | cup size d-f | 1-5" in length | 6-9“ in length | 10” or over in length  (Ask Mimi if you want to know that)

SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand / partner / pillow to muffle themselves)| calls out partner’s name | curses (occasionally)| fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral |calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ (I will fucking die) | giving praise | receiving praise | biting / marking | being bitten / marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal |receiving anal | choking | being choked| dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshiped | worshiping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged :eyes:  | pegging their partner |whipping |Whipping partner | none of the above

PLACES:

in a bedroom | in a shower / bath | in a pool/ocean | in a kitchen | in a bathroom (home) |in a bathroom (public) | in a car | in a tent | in an alleyway | in a field / forest | at a school | in an empty / abandoned building | in a library | on a rooftop / terrace | in a dressing room | in an elevator | in a parking lot | at a museum | at a cemetery | at a beach | in a closet | at a hospital

[spewpurr]

Shamrock Soup and some green fellas

[rowan-catsandcoffee]

Tag! Can I pretty please get a fic of Zen and MC meeting and being sorted at Hogwarts? :3 ~ snarkymc

Snarky? More like sneaky 😄

That said, sorry it took me a while aaaaand it took a few tries before I was happy with this.  The MC in this piece’s name is Mimi and i had to finagle a few things because of the time gap between these events.

This is based off of the Hogwarts Au @snarkymc and I talked about

“Mimi!” She froze at the angry voice.

It was summer.  She hadn’t started her third year yet atHogwarts.  There was no reason prefectJeong Ryu would be out on Diagon Alley yelling at her, not yet at least.  Even Tinsel her familiar seemed to cowerbeneath her, making low threatening noises towards the other student.  He was a few years older than her and theywere in the same house together, but unlike everyone else she talked to, heseemed to have some complaints about her being there.   

“Jeong!  How’s yoursummer going?  Everything going… well?”  Twirling her hair when she was anxious was abad habit, the other girls had taught her to keep it in a tight braid when theyhung out the common room.  She could facethe scrutiny of Headmistress McGonagall but there was still no escaping thesteeling gaze of Jeong.  She tugged herbrunette hair over her shoulder, twirling and twisting the end part through herfingers.  

“Are you really still playing with dolls?”  He sneered down at Tinsel.  The calico stuffed animal moved on its ownneeding no prompting from others or continuous incantations.  Tinsel was an enchanted stuff toy, and sadlythe reason she knew Jeong. 

“Tinsel is my familiar. You know that!”  It wasn’t thefirst time they’d had this argument over the years. 

“Yes, but I hear that Tinsel isn’t the only thing that hasbeen known to slither out of your trunk when you get into the girls dorm.”  The distance between them felt heavy, evenmore as he pressed towards her.  “I swearyou’re going to be the reason we lose the house cup one of these days.”   

“Jeong, that’s enough.” A nice voice called out from behind him. For the first time Mimi was able to look behind him and see someoneelse.  He looked about her age, but Mimifound it hard to look away from him.  Hisbrownish eyes that were almost red, and the silky white hair that was a littlebit past his shoulders, he looked strangely familiar. Though she was fairlysure they never had a class together.  “Youreally shouldn’t talk to girls like tha- what is what?”  He went from defending her to clearpanic.  The dirt he kicked up whilebacktracking was mildly impressive, but also made her worry for Tinsel.  She looked down ready to pick her up to keepher from getting filthy, as Tinsel was unable to clean herself like other cats,but found she was alone.   

“Tinsel?”  Lookingaround she could see Tinsel taking a few tentative steps towards the newkid.  Her ears faced forward as sheneared him, fully intrigued as Mimi had been. “Tinsel no!”  The guy lookedpanicked as he fell to the ground trying to cover his mouth and cower away fromher. 

“Tsk.”  Jeong lookedbetween the kid and Tinsel with disgust, “this is just a doll.”  He stomped down hard, forcing a muffed yowlfrom Tinsel, whose legs gave way leaving her sprawled on the ground under hisboot.  “You can’t have an allergic reactionto a doll!  It’s not a cat, and not afamiliar.”  He turned to sneer at Mimiwho had her phone up, taking pictures of him with a deepening scowl on herface.  “What are you doing?”

“Gathering evidence of your animal abuse.  Now get off of her before I send these tothat one adopted son of the Headmistress’s. You know how much he loves cats.”

“Fine!  Come on Hyun, westill have some errands to run.”  Hestarted to look a little flushed as he stepped off of Tinsel, letting herscurry back to Mimi who knelt down to pick her up.  

“Actually I think I’d like to talk to her for a bit.  If that’s-“

“Whatever.  I can movefaster without you anyway.  Meet me herein one hour, and try not to catch… whatever she is.”  Jeong stomped away, still a little flusteredfrom moments ago.  They watched himleave, both of them a little frozen.  

Hyun was the first to move, he reached a trembling hand outtowards Tinsel.  “Nice kitty.”  He murmured, jumping a little when shereached out and gave a fake sniff to his hand before letting him pet her.  “First time I’ve met a cat that I don’t haveto worry about… though to be honest looking at her still makes my eyes start towater.”

“Really? Sorry.  Comeon Tinsel, in you go.”  Mimi opened upher hoodie, momentarily flashing the hidden pocket where Tinsel could hide andcurl up.  Even on the hottest day insummer she still could find any over shirt that she could add an extra insidepocket to make transporting Tinsel a little easier.  

“Oh you didn’t have to, but… umm… would you like to go get adrink?  There’s a little place nearby.”  

Mimi nodded and let him show the way, though she had afeeling she knew where he was going.  Itwasn’t the first time she’d explored these passages.  In fact since learning she was a witch twosummers ago her Grandmother had been more insistent on her exploring more ofthe wizarding world herself.   So whenHyun led her to the Glam Dragon it wasn’t that much of a surprise.  It was a neat place run by some Witches whowere born from muggles who wanted to bring a little touch of the world theygrew up in to the Witches and Wizards who were, surprisingly, stuck behind thetimes.

“A ‘unicorn hot cocoa’ please! And for you?”  He was pulling out his bag looking at hercuriously.

“You don’t have to pay for me.”

“No worries, you can get it next time.”  Her chest ached at the stupidly charmingsmile he gave her.  

“Okay, a ‘firebolt’?” They were muggle drinks with Wizarding world names put to them, but thewhite chocolate with silvery edible glitter with a dash of blueberry known as ‘unicornhot cocoa’ did seem to earn some double takes from the adults in the wizardingworld.  It was one of her favorite placesto visit when she had the opportunity.

“So ever been to a place like this?”  Hyun Ryu leaned on his palm watching hercarefully.  

“A café?  Yep.  My mom loves going to places like this, backin the muggle world.”

“Oh you’re… born from muggles?”

“Nope.”  If he wantedto know, he would have to ask.  It wasn’tsomething she brought up simply because of her Grandmother.  She hadn’t known her Grandmother was aliveuntil the day her letter for Hogwarts arrived, and there were some family issuesthat she learned about in a very short amount of time.  It had been tough accepting the past two yearsand was still hard to talk about.  Hyunscrunched his face in thought for a while before they called his name to pickup his drink.  

While he was walking back, her name was called.  Even as they passed each other he stilllooked lost in thought.  Mimi returnedshortly after, but the concern that he was showing was already gone.  “So how do you know my brother?”  Hyun asked innocently enough, but stillcaused Mimi to choke on her drink while she tried to keep from laughing.

“You sure you want to know?” He gave her a nod, giving her permission to start into her story.

“What.  Is. That?”  The words were hissed ather shortly after the door to the compartment that she was sitting in was flownopen.  

“That’s Tinsel?”   

“Why is it runningaround?  You should have it with yourtrunk so it could be brought up to your dorm with the rest of your toys. 

“Tinsel isn’t a toy,Tinsel is my familiar!  The letter saidcats were allowed.”  She held out theletter as if it would protect her, but instead he just scoffed at her.   

“Are you seriouslycarrying that around with you?  What, doyou really think you need to prove that you belong here?  Are you from a muggle family or something?”   

“And if I was?”  She wasn’t but the way he spat it out madeher shake with anger.  He was a biggerkid, but she had her ways of dealing with him. He wore the colors of one of the houses, but she couldn’t recallwhich.  Despite Grandma Yvonne trying herhardest to teach her over the summer a crash course in the Wizarding world andHogwarts, she just couldn’t retain all the information.  She didn’t even know it existed beforereceiving her letter.   

“If you were, I hopeyou don’t end up in my house.”  He sneered,triggering her standard response.  Itwasn’t one she was proud of, but she couldn’t help as the tears welled up andstarted to flow.  Startling him, but frustratingMimi even more. 

“That’s not,” shechoked on a sob as she tried to sound angry, “a nice thing to say.” 

“Jeez, what a crybaby, sorry okay?  Just keep that thingaway from me.”  He rolled his eyes ather. 

“Tinsel.”   

“What?”  He gawked at her. 

“Her name’s Tinsel.” 

“Fine whatever!”  He slammed the door as he exited.  

“I’m sorry my brother can be a bit of a jerk. “  Hyun finished his drink, giving her a pityinglook, “but that does explain why came back fuming to our compartment.  Muttering about tinsel… I was so nervousbecause it was my first year and my family was all rooting for me to get intothe same house as the rest of them!  Backthen I thought my brother had been anxious too, and was muttering about goingback home for Yule break.  But what is with that crying thing?”  He tried to hid his smile as he asked her.

“I wish I could tell you, just sometimes when someone’s up set with me it’s like I can’t help it… I hate it when it happen though.”  Mimi pouted a little, trying to change the topic she fidgeted with her drink,  “How did your sorting go? Mine was pretty… stressful.” 

“Mine too.”  Hyunlooked down into his cup. 

“You know… I think I remember you!  You were the one people were whispering aweird word about… ‘Malfoy’?” 

“Wrong family, but I could understand the confusion.”

The sorting hat was positionedon the stool so everyone could hear it’s song as it explained out the fourdifferent houses.  They all soundedvaguely familiar from the lessons her Grandmother gave, but still it felt likeit went in one ear and out the other. Despite her Grandmother trying various different ways to try and teach her.  

“Hyun Ryu.”  The name was called and a strange boy withshort white hair and panicked large red eyes approached.  For a moment she wondered if vampires wereallowed into the school, trying to listen to the tables nearby whispering theirquestions about his family and his name. 

The hat was on hishead for a while, meantime Hyun Ryu looked more panicked the longer he sat there.  Finally his face dropped in defeat as the hatcalled out “Gryffindor!”  His brotherJeong stood up and watched as the table of red and gold erupted and stood towelcome him.   

There had been a fewmore names before Mimi was called up.  Nomatter what she tried she couldn’t stop from trembling.  Headmistress McGonagall watched over theproceedings, giving a calm look to all students, no matter what house wascalled. Mimi tried to focus on that and remember to relax when she hearsomething.   ‘But why?’  There was a tiny whisper in her head.  She tried to think of all her best memories,where she was proud, bringing up her family and how proud her Grandmother hadbeen in the blue and silver as she tried to explain the houses.  ‘You’ll do fine no matter the house, don’tworry so much.  But there is one whereyou’re truly meant to be.‘  “Slytherin!”  The table with green and silver clapped andstood to welcome her.   Jeong clapped aswell as she moved to join the same table as him, but the frown he gave her wasmore genuine.

“Okay so you’re Slytherin like my brother.”  Hyun nodded, “I guessed as much.  How did your family take it?”

“Mom was excited and ordered me a bunch of green stuff tohave in my room or things with snakes on them. She was overcome with house pride. Dad was… pretty confused.  Grandmajust sighed but she kind of moved on. What about you?  Didn’t you justsay your entire family is one house? Slytherin like your brother?  How’dthey handle your house announcement?“   

Hyun shrugged, “nothing can be done when a house inannounced.”  He gave her a painedsmile.   

“Hyun…”  Mimi startedin on her concern when his name was also called by a voice behind her. 

Jeong called from the doorway, “I’m done sooner than Iexpected.  Let’s get going.”   

“Okay!” He nodded before reaching out and grabbing Mimi’shand.  “Do you think it would be okay ifwe exchanged owls and get to know each other before school starts up?” 

“What about emails?” 

Hyun glanced back at his brother before giving her asheepish grin.  “I think owls would bebetter.”

[mf-despair-queen]

I was literally tagged yesterday like...a million times but I just kind of slept because fuck my life.

Rules: tag 10 of your followers you want to get to know better

Name: Malissa

Nickname: Mal (by like... everyone wtf), Lissa (by Chloe only), Mimi

Star sign: Taurus

Height: 5’ and 1/2″

Sexuality: Straight

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

Favourite animal: MEOW

Average hours of sleep: Depends. Weekdays is like...3 or 4 hours. Weekends is like...12

Current time: 2:47 pm

Dog or cat person: I love both but I love kitties more

Blankets you sleep with: My main blanket is my Eevee and Pikachu one. My secondary one is my Kingdom Hearts 2 one.

Dream trip: I mean... I have a lot. I wanna go to London, Brazil, Japan. We’re tentatively planning to go to Korea and Japan though in a few years.

Dream job: TECHNICALLY I have it? I’ve always wanted to be an accountant (odd, I know). If I had to choose anything else, I would wanna try and be an actor to get over my own insecurities

When you made your blog: Sometime in like...high school or college. I barely ever used it though. I started using it more last....Septemberish?

Followers: a number...? (Does this really matter?) 

Reasons for my url: I love me some Dangan Ronpa and I am the living embodiment of Junko Enoshima who is the Despair of the game. She legit has a crown and everything. And she is my favorite cosplay. I am the motherfucking despair queen

I don’t tag people because I don’t wanna be a bother like I always am. 

[campwintersoul]

Wintersoul Report Day 8: ~Spooky Scary Stories~

Cammy’s story of Zippo The Virtueless Temmie!

@two-littlesouls

Cammy took a deep breath, and then began.

“So, you know the Patron Temmies of Virtue, right? The special ones, like Lacie and Nugget. Well, when I was looking around the island the other day I found out that there is another special Temmie. One that no-one ever talks about.”

He looks around shiftily, almost like he’s thinking about whether or not he should say their name at all.

“...Zippo. The Dark Temmie. The Patron Temmie of the Virtueless.”

Another long pause, checking that saying their name didn’t cause them to show up or something.

“Zippo was just like the other Temmies once, only his body was jet-black. Looking at him was like looking into a Temmie-shaped hole in the universe. His role was important, representing all of those who live without souls or virtue and showing that they could do the right thing too!"

"But...Zippo was naive. He got jealous of his brethren and wanted what they had. The legends are sketchy about how he did it, but he tried to steal their virtues for himself. Eimmet, grief stricken and horrified by this betrayal, had no choice but to banish Zippo to the depths of the island. Under the Soul Sanctum, under the Core. Out of sight and out of mind...Forever."

"No-one knows what happened to him after that. Eimmet went to check on him once, to see if he had learned the error of his ways, but he was gone…There’s no point asking any of the other Temmies about him, because they’ll just pretend they don’t know anything.”

He turns to Eimmet and gives him a knowing wink.Then, after a few more moments, he gave another shifty look around and stood up. He dusted off his knees and lurched forwards, hands up and clawed so he was making a spooky pose.

“But they say that in his frustration, jealousy and hatred, Zippo became one with all the darkness of the island. A lingering shadow that hOids in waiting for souls who stay out too late! So, my friends, be very careful if you decide to stay out after curfew, otherwise the Dark Temmie will come and take your virtue!!”

He cackled and grinned.

*~Sure Eimmet. Exactly what a temmie would say!~

[[The rest are under the cut. Enjoy!]]

‘The Raffle by Ice Queen Aisha

@nolvlost

[You waited this long, it was bound to happen!] * Alright. [She takes a deep breath before starting.] 

* I call this story the Raffle.

* It was a lovely summer morning in the small town. The air was sweet and cool, rolling in lazy waves. There was all but 300 or so people populating it, but they always worked so hard. They had modest homes, all charming in their own ways. They also had massive farms that they put their blood, sweat, and tears in. And they had a massive school, empty now, but usually filled with students, eager to learn. It was no ordinary day, no. It was time for the raffle.

* The whole town joined it. You could feel the electricity in the air. Some of the town's children gathered stones and meandered about, before getting pulled over by their parents to gather on the towns square. They left their stones in a large pile behind, eagerly tagging along.

[Aisha pauses to swallow built up spit, gauging a reaction for her foreshadowing.]

* A lady joins the crowd, and finds her family just as they are putting in slips of paper into the raffle box. It seems she has forgotten all about today, and is quick to make small talk to other people in the crowd.

"This raffle is totally rigged, don't you know?" They don't answer her back. She quiets down, and listens to the rules she has heard for many years now.

[She stifles a cough before continuing on.]

* The announcer were to call out names, the head of the family were to retrieve a slip of paper, and only after everyone was called, then the papers be shown. The town elder pulled a slip for himself, eager to partake in the lottery. It's been going on years, decades even. The announcer decides to have a small chat while he was up there. 'There has to be a better way', he says. The elder was quick to retort that there was nothing wrong with tradition, and that stopping it was nothing but trouble. 'Raffle in August, corn among us', he said.

When all the the papers were drawn, everyone looked at their papers. All of the lady's talk about being rigged and unfair were spoken even louder by her, calling shenanigans. Her husband seemed to get the slip with a bright red sticker in the middle of it. The lady protests again, but her husband escorts her and their children to the stage where the raffle box were. The announcer dumps the rest of the paper out and puts in four slips of paper in, one for each member of the family. One by one, they all drew a slip of paper. Upon opening it, the lady breaks down crying, seeing as her slip held the sticker. Her husband, wordless, gave her one last hug before retreating with his kids.

[Aisha looks around the bonfire to gauge any reactions before breaking into a small coughing fit. No need to be alerted folks, she's okay, and the story's almost over.]

*... [She leans over the fire for that spoopy aesthetic.]

'This isn't fair! This isn't fair!' she screamed. A pebble hit her square in the temple, before small stones. The villagers fetched more from the child's pile, and soon, like vultures, they were upon her.

[Wow okay that deep voice really hecked up her throat. She leans away from the fire now and sits back down.] * ... I'm done now.

‘The Boy Given to Darkness’ by Rhys

@sixsmolsouls

Rhys took a deep breath, wringing their hands together anxiously. Was this an okay story? They guess they'll find out... "A-ahem,," They pulled an origami figure out of their pocket and held it tentatively between their hands.

"D...Did you know that the dark is really scary...?"

"You can't see... and it's suffocating. Things happen in the dark and you can't even see it.." They swallowed, eyes focused on their hands."No one else sees it either. Or they try not to see it. Because the dark... is really scary.."

"A long long time ago.... there was a little boy.. and the dark hunted him wherever he went. People would take them in.. care for them... but the dark always came and it always took them away."

"But... not really take... because the people gave the little boy back to the dark. Because the little boy was too much trouble. He would cry too loud or not eat or not sleep, and the people thought he was... too much trouble."

"That he wasn't worth it..."

Rhys was slowly folding the origami. A tired smile on their face.

"There was always the same punishment, for the little boy, he had to let the dark do whatever it wanted to them! Anything... it wanted." They swallowed. "Anything it wanted at all...."

"It was like a game to the dark, but it was life for the boy. And he always ran and he tried to get away but... no one thought the boy was worth it. So he always got taken back.."

"They didn't think there was anything wrong with the dark because ... they liked it. Everyone seemed to like the dark! N-no matter what it did...."

Rhys took a breath, shifting in their seat. Fire illuminating their face. They had folded a person-like figure from the white side of the paper.

"So the little boy thought... I'm wrong. Even if the dark does terrible, horrible, b ad b a d things to him, he had to be wrong. He was wrong, and the dark was right. Because everyone said so! And It had to be true because he kept losing."

They placed the little figure on the ground and the light from the fire caused a large shadow to be cast. Miraculously, the shadow looked like a large man with his hand on a child's shoulder. And the man was smiling.

"So the boy decided to stay. And the dark won. And the little boy's punishment, became their life. And they'd do anything for the dark... They'd be anything.. because.."

"They were really only worth anything to him..."

"T-the end!"

‘Mina’s Doll’ by Sabrina

@friskandmisc

Well you have all had such wonderful stories I hope I do not disappoint you with mine... ahemm.... 

One upon a time there was a girl named named  Mina. Mina was kind and sweet  but  was very lonely. her parents hardly ever payed attention to her and were far to busy to play, And her brother was mean and picked on her, the only persons she truly loved was her grandmother, who they had come to live with as they were moving. She was not her father’s real mother but a step mom but she loved Mina all the same. She was a successful toy maker but was a bit of a town pariah for and was known by the towns children as “the witch who lived in the old house”. 

One day Mina’s grandmother decided to make her a doll so she would not be lonely.  The grandmother had made the doll from scratch herself and made it in the girl’s exact image. While Mina watched her grandmother sew it she tried to help and pricked her finger on the needle and a drop of blood fell into the dolls body before being stitched up. The Grandmother smiled and comforted her and said it was okay and made the doll even better now! The doll had a piece of her in it so the doll will always know how she fells, and love her like a sister. When Mina’s Round blue eyes locked onto the dolls blue button eyes it was love at first sight. She named the doll “Mimi” as in “Me Me”; a second her. Mina and Mimi were best friends and did everything together. They played and spent every night together, ignoring all her other toys.

Soon Mina began to talk to the doll and giggle as if the doll has responded. She referred to the doll as he twin sister and treated it as if it was real. Her parents were displeased with this unhealthy behavior and did not want people to judge them it in public. One day Mina was playing with Mimi when her brother and his group of friends came over to hang out. They took one look at the girl and her life sized doll twin and began to tease then. They called her “weird” and a “freak” for her closeness to the doll. The brother did not want to seem weak in front of his friends and took the doll from mina’s hands and took it away to impress his friends and for the boys to “play” with.

Mina ran to her mother and father but they were busy and just told mina that she had to share. Mina cried and tried to be patient and wait but grew anxious without her “sister��. During that day mina grew sick and pinpricks appeared all over her body which bled and caused her a great deal of pain. Large clumps of hair fell out, but not all the way… the hair was broken off and straight as if cut... It eventually stopped before they were going to take her to the hospital. Nobody knew what had happened. Later, The brother returned from hanging out with his friends and gave the doll back… but he and his friend had mangled it, but They had cut off it’s beautiful brown yarn hair and stuck pin and needles into it. The parents merely scolded the son and shrugged it off as “boys will be boys”  but they  also scolded Mina for getting so worked up over a “silly doll”. The Grandmother was shocked at their parenting and comforted Mina before she ran in tears to her room. 

Mina took the doll back and held is close crying, she apologized to it and asked her to forgive them. Mina fell asleep. But.. a scream woke her from her slumber in the middle of the night. It came from her Brother’s room. When she arrived her brother was sitting in bed as his parents comforted him. What she saw shocked her. Pins were jammed deep all over his arms and chest and his head was shaved bald. But as stared did Her brother pointed at her “ SHE DID THIS! For me messing up her stupid doll!” The parents looked and asked her if this was true. She had no idea what they were talking about and honestly denied it “I saw her!!  I SAW HER RUN BACK INTO HER ROOM!” Mina tried to defended herself but her parents didn’t listen. “who else could have done it? And he saw you!” They then snatched Mimi From her arms as punishment and claimed she was too attached to it and it was messing with her mental state,  “were going to get rid of it the morning. Now go to your room and we will discuss this in the morning!”  Mina cried in her room and looked up at the night sky. She saw a bright star and gazed up at it and said aloud “I wish it could just Be Me, Grandma and Mimi, things would be so much better. Her tied puffy eyes soon closed as drifted off to sleep once again. 

When she awoke she smelled something sweet drifting up into her bedroom.  And found a fresh breakfast laid out for her, Golden pancakes: Her favorite!  Mina sat down to eat with her grandmother and looked around for her parents and brother. “Where is everybody else?” she asked but her grandmother only looked confused and asked her what she meant. “what do you mean my dear child, it has always been just you and me. Mina opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself…come to think of it..it had always been her and grandma. Was everything from yesterday all a dream? It had to be but she still felt uneasy. “Something feels missing…” Her grandmother smiles and shook her head and turned to the kitchen doorway. “Mimi please come bring us some milk.” Just as the grandmother finished speaking a girl with blue button like eyes and stringy short hair walked back in, she looked just like mina, and Mina recognized her right away as her sister. Her Twin sister, She was realized to see her sister after her nightmare and hugged her close. Mimi hugged back. “Oh did you have a nightmare? I am so sorry, but it’s okay now. I am here for you. I will always be here. “ 

The three Continued to eat breakfast together as a family. Mina had never felt so happy, at least that’s how it felt. It was like this all the time: happy. Before Mina and Mimi were about to head off on the bus to school however Mimi stopped her sister. “I will meet you there, I forgot my workbook! I will meet you on the bus okay? Mina nodded and ran off to the wait for the bus. Mimi went to her room and picked up her book before glancing over at a doll house in the corner of the room. It was an exact replica of the grandmothers house. She knelled down and looked at the three dolls in it.

pauses for a moment to see their reaction

Eimmet:*O-OH dearest!...T-the dolls inside that house...Don't tell me... they are...

There was a mother, A father and a boy doll, without any hair and pins in its arms. Mimi smiled at the little dolls and said with a cruel little smile in a childlike voice, “How does it feel to be a silly little doll?” The dolls did not respond but their faces were not that of a smiling happy family but that of horrified and punished criminals. Mimi smiled and got up closing the doll house leaving the lifeless dolls in the darkness and ran back out to her sister to stand beside her.   They were truly connected and loved each other, and Mimi would never let anyone hurt her sister again….

….So, The moral of the story is be nice to your dolls…and your children….or you might end up like that family…by the hands of a doll…like MIMI!!

she pulls out a doll like the one she described in the story  hidden inside her muff the sneaky little thing and holds it out to the terrified campers

Eimmet:*This story surely gave the creeps! No more dolls for me... gosh...

Eimmet:*KY AAA!!!*HISSSSSSS

‘Origins’ by Aswell

@the-grephil-anomaly

"Um..yes!" Aswell recalls the story Grephil has told so many times, that's stopped him from ever leaving the borders of The Dump... 

"Once long ago, before The Great War, there was an innocent little ghost that loved to eat. Unfortunately for this ghost, he couldn't enjoy any of the delicacies the living took for granted. He never got to enjoy the sweet taste of a cinnamon bun, or the soft and yummy goodness of a fresh baked pie..." 

He pauses for dramatic effect, just as his Father did. 

"However, he one day came across a dark wizard, who offered to give him the abilities to enjoy the food of the living. A corporeal body that would let him feel, taste, smell! He accepted the offer immediately! Finally being able to enjoy what he loved most on an entirely new plane of existance! The Wizard asked for only one thing in return. A favor, which he would redeem at a later date." 

"With the sign of what appeared to be an ancient tome, The ghost was blasted with intense and mystical energy. He was given a black and murky mass of slime as a physical form, and looked even more horrifying than the toughest monster in the underground! He didn't care though. He rushed to Snowdin with glee on his face, planning to eat the first thing he could think of."

Another pause. 

"What he thought of first...was the souls of monsters! The flesh of children! And needless to say, he didn't enjoy these thoughts at all. But as time went by, and he avoided the public's eye, the thought became more and more exhilarating! It sounded so good to him, and he was only getting hungrier with each passing minute!"

Aswell's mouth starts to drip with something black. His eyes start growing whiter and his voice gets lower. 

"This ghost..this supposedly L O V I N G father, couldn't handle himself anymore! Hee snapped, went out of his mind as the hunger consumed him!" 

His eyes go pitch black, eyes beginning to run the same black goop and his voice getting slightly gargled 

"His poor adopted son, who loved his Father for who he once was, tried to FLEE from the monster they now were. And what did they do? When the only thing they had in the world was horrified at them?" 

he starts breathing raspily, coughing up the gooy substance as he eyes starts glowing faintly, the iris completely invisible 

"H E  K I L L E D  H I M . . ." 

" He squeezed the life out of his pride and joy, impaling them with their PRECIOUS body..."

His voices gets heavier with every sentence

"Realizing what he did, he went even more insane! Going on a bloodbath across the entire underground, killing all in sight..."

Aswell's fur gets matted with black goo. How long had that been there?

"Afterwards, he decided to FIX his error, bring his darling boy back from the dead... How would do this? When He had already turned their soul to dust and the body a mangled mess?" 

Aswell lets out a toothy grin, gargling madly but still clearly heard as he started speaking like a mad man. 

"Necromancy of course! That, and a little BODY stealing. He STOLE the body of another monster, who looked just like his old son, and took half of his own soul, with a mixture of what his body was now made of, to make the new soul for that precious, PRECIOUS abomination!."

Aswell walks towards the fire. As he does, footprints are left in his wake of that black substance, and the goo he coughs up hits the fire, causing the flame to turn a greenish color for a split second each time it comes into contact. It's clear to see he was completely COVERED in the stuff, and as he lifts his arms up, he gets a very joyous look on his face as he looks to the heavens. 

"And that was the day that ASRIEL died, and ASWELL was born! AAAHAHAHAHAAA!" 

...He passes out, the goo dissipating into the air. You getting the feeling that wasn't how the story was meant to go..or that any of that was meant to happen...

‘Feeding a Shadow’ by Omen with assistance from Joe

@fusedfloras & @the-selfishsoul

Omen nodded before looking out to the crowd.

"There once was a child that gave up everything for the sake of others. It pained the child to give up so much of themselves and to see their own friends used them filled them with such hate. Yet the child never spoke up. Years upon years this, the child felt more hatred that it manifest into a dark gloomy shadow. One day, a wise old lady came across this child and saw the manifestation that others had failed to see "

It was by then that the shadow being casted by the flickering bonfire lights had stopped moving accordingly, it was subtle but if one were to pay close attention...they'd notice it.

" The wise lady ask if this child had any resentment towards anyone like their friends. The child quickly denied it and said they would give anything for their friends without a second thought. The respond from the child worried the lady as she gave one final warning, “ If you keep this up your going to end up being swallowed by the monster you keep feeding...”

It seemed to stretch, ever so slightly, to the point where it's presence had seemed to be exaggerated by the light itself. Was the bonfire getting brighter? Or was it to the others a strange illusion?

Omen's tone soon shifted as she continued on with her tale. " The child did not heed the lady instead they ignore her just as they ignore their feeling. The continue their lifestyle until one night, on a night like this. They gave up everything for their friends like always but their friends ended up throwing the child away, ditching them. “You wish for revenge don't you?” a voice spoke from the shadows. “ * I can help you with that but you first must help me in return...*

The girls shadow would start to slowly but surely stretch wider in width. It looked rather intimidating for someone of her size. 

" The child was pent up with rage that without hesitation they agreed to help the mysterious voice, wanting nothing more that what was finally due to them. And at that moment of the verbal agreement was made, the child's shadow grew to a towering height with two red gleaming eyes trained on them.

Suddenly, as described by Omen, her very own shadow had emerged, looking menacing with their very own bright red iris' that stared down the camper's with a menacing glare, accompanied with a smile that seemed to glow like the fires itself. "I'll consume your so called friends but first....I'LL CONSUME YOU!!!” 

" !! "Omen turned around, looking at the shadow that stood behind her in fear, before letting out a shriek.

[[https://campwintersoul.tumblr.com/post/155969054638/the-selfishsoul-scary-story-telling-at]]

[And immediately! The shadow abruptly charges forward, grabbing Omen in a shroud of darkness...before suddenly, it spun around as genuine laughter rang out as the darkness surrounding the girl spinned and reformed themselves to hugging them with the shadow somewhat in an uproar at the whole telling of the story.] 

"Jeez! You should've seen the look on your guys faces!!"