#Anchored Abode

[an-ambivalent]

Woes of Reincarnation Part 2 [Yandere! Miguel x Fem! Reader]

Chapter Synopsis: You’re an Alchemax neuroscientist specializing in genetics and cognition memory research. Outside of work, you spend majority of your time with your daughter Gabriella and your partner Miguel. For the most part, you loved your life - you had a thriving career, a lovely daughter, and your wonderful stay-at-home partner who supported you and cared for your small bundle of joy in ways you were unable to. But slowly but surely, something starts to seem amiss with your husband and you realise that Miguel is not who you knew him to be. This is a sequel to this

Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours and themes of that can be uncomfortable to read. Specific warnings: implied noncon. This work also has spoilers about Miguel from the comics. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.

Establishing yourself at your current point in career was a lot of work hard; from extensive studying, to jumping from one temporary contracted job to another, it often made you want to hit your head against the wall in frustration. Amidst all the chaos, the universe threw even more at you; just as you were finishing your PHD, and were starting to climb your career ladder, you had found out that you were pregnant. It was nerve wrecking, stressful, exciting, and involved so many other emotions and tears, and pondering over countless of future possibilities. Becoming overwhelmed from all of this was beginning to drive you mad. But lucky for you, Miguel was the perfect anchor to your chaotic storm of thoughts; he was with you every step of the way and was amazing at providing you the reassurance you needed. After your daughter was born, whom you had named Gabriella, things had been very challenging at first: you had to look after your daughter while still having your own recovery. Miguel took on additional responsibilities while also trying to look after you and your daughter as well. Eventually, after a few years passed, it became easier to manage and cope with the challenges that came with looking after a tiny human. Both of you decided that you were going to work full-time at your new job, while Miguel would be the stay at home partner to look after Gabriella. 

Over the years, you made exceptional progress in your career until you got to your current position. While you really enjoyed your work in the past, recently, it was starting to become too stressful and impact your mental health. There was a certain feeling of being done etched in your body language. And despite the fact that you looked after your physical health, there was a new type of dullness on your face in place of your usual genuine contentment, and the glint of mischief that always gleamed in your eyes and smiles was starting to disappear. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you unlocked the front door and entered your abode. You took off your outdoor shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, while simultaneously slipped your feet in your indoor slippers. As you walked through the hallway and into the main living room, you raised your eyebrow in surprise when you saw Miguel leaning against the kitchen counter closest to you, with his back turned against you, and nervously tapping his index finger on the counter’s marble surface. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked simply, and threw your jacket and keys carelessly on the dinning table as you walked towards the kitchen. 

Your usual very composed and charismatic husband jumped at the sound of your voice. He whipped around in shock, his eyes wide, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He seemed even more jumpy when you neared him in proximity, grabbed onto the collar of his white shirt, and strongly pulled him down to your level for a chaste kiss as a greeting. Usually, your pecks that started out as a quick greeting, would turn into deeper, and more passionate kisses, almost into a full make out session. But that wasn’t the case this time around; this time around, Miguel was simple frozen in surprise as you kissed him. He did not respond back, and his hands were raised and stilled awkwardly in mid air as if he was going to push you away, but didn’t due to some last minute realisation. It was very strange because he never hesitated to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer until there was no physical space left, and one of his hands would be tangled messily in your locks. The awkwardness of the entire situation made you pull away instantly, and there was even more confusion evident in your eyebrow raise. Nonetheless, you released your hold on him, and started to work your way around the kitchen like your usual evening routine. 

“I’m surprised that you’re already home. Picking up Gabriella from her tennis practice and the groceries, you usually wouldn’t be home for another hour,” You remarked causally, while you put on your bright pink apron that had ‘Kiss the chief’ written on it. It was one of the gifts your Miguel and Gabriella had given you on the most recent mother’s day, so anytime you wore it, they had an excuse to shower you in kisses. 

Miguel blinked owlishly, as he stared hard at the words written on your apron for for a good few seconds, before returning his gaze to you. He showed no signs of moving closer to you to kiss you like he usually would. 

“Uh, doesn’t she have tennis practice on Tuesdays and not today? Besides, I don’t have the car.” He responded simply. 

You blinked at him in confusion. “She has her practice today - she has her coaching on Tuesdays and her club games on Friday. And what do you mean you don’t have the car? I left the keys in front of the TV and its parked right outside on the street...? We talked about it this morning - you dropped me off to work and I took the train back. This is no new information, come on Miguel,” You retorted, and opened the fridge to get the needed ingredients you required to make dinner. However, there was barely anything in there - your eye twitched. You turned to Miguel with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“How come you didn’t go grocery shopping?” You asked. Just as Miguel was about to respond, your eyes widened in another realisation. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot to pick up Gabriella?! No wonder I don’t hear her trotting around! Miguel! What’s wrong with you today?!” You snapped, and instantly untied your apron, and took it off instantly. 

At the shift of annoyance in your tone, Miguel’s eyebrow twitched in anger. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know - this wasn’t even meant to be his responsibility. It was supposed to be your Miguel’s responsibility but he was dead now. He simply chose to replace him in this dimension because he had a family; he felt sorry for the young child who had lost her father, and a bit sorry for you, who would have been a full-time working single mother if you had found that your husband was dead. He was doing you a favour, and you had no idea how grateful you should be. But alas, you were so bossy instead. He wanted to reveal the truth so he could see the reaction on your face, but he couldn’t disclose anything. For his young child, he would endure. 

“You didn’t tell me to do so,” He responded coldly, since there was no other way he knew how to carry out his argument. 

You were so confused by his response that you had to stop for moment and gather your thoughts. You blinked at him in confusion, even more so, when you noticed the anger on his face - Miguel never got angry that easily. 

“It’s the same routine every week...? What’s there to tell?” You murmured to yourself. You glanced at him once more, and you looked at him from the top of his head, to the soles of his feet in scrutiny multiple times. Upon closer inspection, you saw something different about him; the exhaustion in his body - it was an exact reflection of yours. He looked like he was done. It made you think:  had you been so busy thinking about your own problems at work that you forgot to check in with your own husband? Had you relied on him to take care of you and Gabriella so much that you forgot to do your part and look after him?! 

Guilt wallowed up in your chest, and your throat started to feel constricted - you were starting to feel anxious again. However, just before your anxiety could overwhelm you, you pushed it down. Miguel needed you right now, not the other way around. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, love. I shouldn’t have done that. I guess work’s been too stressful,” You mumbled, and then, walked closer to Miguel. The Spider-Man was genuinely surprised at the quick apology that left your lips; he was even more shocked when you walked in front of him once more, and gave him a bright grin. He was taken back by how beautiful you looked when you were smiling and the way your face glowed when a hint of joy shone through. 

“We both seem to be having a tough time today, how about we get things done together and just relax? Let’s go pick up our cheeky munchkin and order in, we’ll get your favourite! Sounds good?” You said grinning wider, and cheekily swung your hip against his. Given his build and strength as Spider-Man, it barely did anything. But your joy and cheekiness was contagious because Miguel returned your grin with a playful scoff off his own. Instinctively, he lifted you up easily, and the suddenness of the gesture made you yelp in surprise. You easily wrapped your legs around his tiny slutty waist as he supported your weight by holding you in both of his arms, and wrapped your arms around his neck. You combed through his soft brown locks with one of your hands, and leaned closer to his face; Miguel felt flustered. 

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered softly, looking at him with so much love and longing in your eyes as if he had hung up the moon and stars for you. No one had looked at him with so much love before. Miguel felt flustered. Instead of answering you, he tightened his hold onto you, as he brought you closer to him until you were absolutely squished against his physique. He felt more muscular than before, and his grip on you felt more possessive rather than his usual protective one. But, you weren’t the one to complain since this was so much better than the awkwardness from before.

Miguel moved his arms so he supported your weight with one, and held the back of your head with the other. Then, he guided you down until your lips locked. It was a nice kiss, a bit clumsy than usual, but nice nonetheless. He didn’t want to follow your lead like he usually did, so you tried to follow his lead instead. It was definitely different, even more so, when you felt him bite your bottom lip hard. You yelped in pain and tried to pull away from him. Your efforts were fruitless for a few seconds until Miguel eased his grip at the back of your head. Just as he let you go, enough blood gathered instantly at the spot you were bitten on your lip that it started to drip down your chin. Immediately, Miguel licked it and then gazed at you with his disheveled hair hovering above the predatory and lust gleaming in his red eyes. Both of you breathed heavily, but he wore a giant grin  that showed off his canines. When did Miguel have canines? 

“What you said sounded good, but I would like it much better if we could relax, just the two of us, later tonight.” 

                                                         ***

Once upon a time, Miguel was a bright and innovative scientist himself. He was intelligent and quick to grasp things. For that reason, it didn’t take him long to adapt to the same lifestyle that the original Miguel of this dimension was living. Actually, this domestic life was so much better and easier than his job had been at Alchemax. Maybe, it was easy because he genuinely came to love it; he loved his daughter Gabriella like he had anticipated he would. But first impressions aside, he was also surprised at how quickly he came to love you. You were just so caring and attentive, and everytime you smiled your lovely smile, he swore, cupid’s arrow shot through his heart. You always looked at him with so much love - and it didn’t just end there - you always showed your love through actions too. Every morning when you woke up, before going to sleep, coming home, before leaving, and if you saw each other just after a few hours, you always kissed him. They were such passionate kisses too - it was addictive. All of your little quirks and the constant displays of affection were addictive. For once, Miguel was constantly surrounded by love and happiness. He loved it, and he was going to do anything to protect it. 

Although he did love his current life, there were some things that he did wish could be better - like how he wished he could spend more time with you. He had been trying to talk you into reducing your work hours, because recently, it seemed like you just were getting busier and busier. Your acts of affection, your long lasting kisses -- everything was becoming quicker and more rushed. The nights of intimacy you shared often when he had first came into your life versus recently, were much fewer too. It was distraughting and almost starting to feel frustrating because he had become accustomed to everything you had given him. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how he had ever managed to live without having you by his side. Now, it was almost to the point where he felt that his even spider craved you. 

It was another night like the one’s recently. Presently, it was just after 9:30 pm, half an hour after Gabriella has been put to bed. Miguel had just come out of a steaming hot shower - his skin carried an underlying darker red hue indicating just how boiling hot the water had to be, and he only wore a small white towel around his hips. He was hoping that giving you a preview would help him finally get another night of sex with you. But the moment he had stepped out of your shared ensuite, and was browsing through your shared closet, pretending to look for clothes, you paid no attention to him. Instead, you were entirely focused on the folders of paperwork labelled ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ in big block red letters that you had been bringing home from work every, single, fucking, day. 

Come to think of it, exactly what was your job? Why were you the one that had chosen to work rather than his alternate deceased self? Surely, if his deceased self was also a scientist at Alchemax like he had been, he had to be making more than enough money. 

In the end, Miguel mindless chose to wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. He climbed into your shared bed with you,  and snatched your papers from your hands. You yelped when this happened suddenly, and immediately tried to wrestle Miguel for them as he started to look over their content himself. 

“What the hell, Miguel?! Give those back to me right now! That’s confidential!” You yelled, while trying to climb over him in whatever way you could to get your paperwork back. Miguel simply ignored you, and easily held you back with one arm, while holding up the papers with his other hand, and reading them. 

It read: 

“ALCHEMAX PROPERTY 

ONGOING RESEARCH PROGREES: PROJECT DIMCOG6.V - COGNITION AND MEMORY THROUGH THE MULTIVERSE 

RESEARCH LEAD: [Name] O’Hara

‘-utlising deep learning neural networks, we have managed to analyse microarray data at an anatomical level[1]. Given this groundbreaking discovery, we can hypothetically give ourselves false memories of living in another universe and completely alter our reality. Or, we could even transfer the psych of our alternative self to our current self. Tests will need to be conducted-” 

“You’re... working for Alchemax?” Miguel asked in disbelief, looking at you with wide eyes - like he didn’t knew you at all. In a way, that was not far from the truth. 

You took his shock as an opportunity to snatch your paperwork back, and scoffed at him. “Of course I am. I don’t see why you’re so surprised? You’re the one who told me to take the job when I was offered it.”

You carefully tied up your paperwork the way you had brought it from work, before setting it on the bedside table beside you. You turned towards Miguel and scowled at him. 

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t just snatch my things. Seriously Miguel, what is with you recently? You’re so moody and quick to temper! I understand you may be stressed and I’m seriously trying my best to make things as easy as possible for you, but you can’t just do whatever you want. You know I’m having a really hard time at work right now as it is, I don’t need you making it the same for me at home. Back off a bit, yeah?” You snapped. Instantly, you turned away from him. You had been feeling your regular nightly migraine building up for a while, and the stress from dealing with Miguel just seemed to have triggered it. You took off your reading glasses so they were resting on your head instead of your nose; a heavy sigh left your lips as you rubbed your temple to try soothe your headache. 

You failed to notice the angry red eyes that were glaring at you. 

“I didn’t know that you were working for the filth of Alchemax.... And I didn’t tell you to take that job, I would never allow my own wife to betray me like that. If it really had been me, in the first place, you wouldn’t even be working.”  Miguel hissed, as he had moved closer to you until his body was pressing right against your side. Then, he leaned closer to you, and gently nipped you right behind your earlobe. Chills went through your spine, and you groaned in frustration; you failed to understand exactly what Miguel words implied due to your horrible headache reducing your ability to focus. 

“I don’t have the energy to worry about your nuances Miguel, nor do I have the energy for sex tonight. Just let me rest,” You murmured, and tried to swat at his arms he wrapped around you possessively. 

You didn’t get the response you wanted - verbally or his actions wise. Instead, you screamed as Miguel pushed you so you laying on your back, and he sat on you immediately. From the impact, your glasses were swung backwards randomly and dug into the randomest part of your neck painfully. You winced and tried to move so they weren’t digging into your skin, but you were unable to move since Miguel had your wrists pinned down on the bed in each hand. He pushed all of his bodyweight on you making it hard to breath, and leaned down until he was right next to your ear. 

“Let me rephrase what I said, and really listen this time, okay? You’re my smart little scientist, I’m sure you can figure it out.” He whispered sensually, and this time, bit your earlobe hard enough to draw blood. 

You cried out in pain. You tried to wriggle yourself free, but your efforts continued to be in vain. When Miguel applied more pressure on your wrists to the point it felt like they were going to break, you stopped struggling. However, your breath started to pick up and your throat felt tight. Despite how light headed you felt, you understood that this wasn’t normal. His grip wasn’t normal - your Miguel would never do something like this. He had never raised his voice at you, much less be physically violent with you the way the stranger on top of you was being. So, for your own sake, you listened attentively to what he had to say. 

“I didn’t tell you to take the job. I would never tell you to take any job, much less at Alchemax, especially after what they did to me. If it had been me, the me in front of you right now, I would keep you locked up in a safe little cage that I make just for you.” 

Tears welled in the corner of your eyes. You hoped that what you were thinking wasn’t right. 

“W-What they did to you...? You never told me? I, I don’t understand-” You tried to say. You weren’t sure if you were just repeating yourself like a parrot because there wasn’t enough oxygen flowing in your brain to think rationally, or you were desperately hoping that what you understood to be the truth, wasn’t actually the truth. Maybe it was both. 

“I’m not your Miguel, I never was. Where I’m from, I used to be scientist at Alchemax. They spliced my DNA with a spider when I tried to quit,” Miguel started, and then, flashed his fangs at you. “I have access to many dimensions. I saw that the me of this dimension was killed and out of pity, I decided to take his place so Gabriella wouldn’t be fatherless and you wouldn’t be a single mother. 

“You really pissed me off in our first interaction.... but now, now, I love you, I can’t see myself without you. I might not be your Miguel yet, but you are my [Name]. Thanks to your research, we can start again. I can figure out a way to change your memories so you’ll know me as your Miguel from the start. I’m sure there’s a dimension out there somewhere we can use.” He whispered in your ear, and then, grinded against you. 

Goosebumps of repulsion and fear arose across your skin - you shook your head in denial. 

“Don’t, please don’t do that. You have no idea what you’re messing with--” 

“Shut up. Now that you know, you’re going to see what I would have done with you in the first place. I’m going to keep you locked up in a cage I make just for you. No work, no research, nothing for you. I’m going to keep you locked up so you’re not a tired cranky bitch and I’m going to be the only person you see. I’m going to make you so touch starved so that whenever you see me, you’re going to be nothing but yearning and desperate for any ounce of attention that I give you.” 

Then, Miguel wrapped his hands around your neck, and pressed tightly onto your trachea until you passed out from the lack of oxygen. He grinned widely. 

“Goodnight [Name]. We’ll meet again on the other side.” 

                                                          ***

[1] deep learning neural network is a type of AI technique that mimics the workings of a human brain. It’s used in neuroscience to study the complex intra- and interhemispheric coherence, and other brain regional interactions in relation to cognition and behaviour. 

Microarray data refers to studying many genes at once. So, given all this, and how astrophysics works (if you were to be anywhere in the universe, like being pulled into a black hole or a neutron star), their ruthless gravity would literally tear you apart at your atoms level. So my theory is that, if you were to transfer “memories and cognition” through dimensions and defy the very essence of space and time, you’d need to have studied the neurobiology at the atoms level to the very least. [JUST MY THEORY BASED ON WHAT I KNOW ABOUT THESE SUBJECTS. I JUST WANTED TO NERD OUT OKAY]

[2] basically the ‘isekai’d’ reader’s memories in Part 1 can be understood in this  way: in all the manipulation of memories that Miguel does after this, [Name] gets so many new memories implanted she eventually remembers all of this. She made an escape plan to stage her own death and live in the shadows with random memories planted (like she thinks she reincarnated and lived in a ‘different’ world) but thats actually just false memories. And given how much Miguel was trying to code that “she loves him” in her genes everytime he changed her memories, that turns into a false memory of him being her favourite character and that she “simps for” so she automatically wants to seek him out to meet him when she gets “reincarnated” 

I hope everything I explained makes sense and that you enjoyed this! Let me know if you have any questions! 

[aoioozora]

Watery Grave

Content: Pirate! Ghost x Sea Goddess! Reader, enemies, no happy ending TW: Blood, gore, death

From your underwater abode, you looked up at the wispy streams of daylight flickering and filtering through the rippling seawater. For the past few months, the waters thrummed with a certain uncertainty and fear. Trouble had been brewing upon the surface, enough for your worshippers to increase their prayers, pleas, and offerings to you, begging for your interference.

A large and familiar shadow floated over the surface and made its way past, far above your abode, momentarily blocking out the sunlight. You rose, took hold of the jet black sword next to you and fastened it to your belt. With a strong flick of your tail, you propelled yourself upward many fathoms to the surface, cutting through the waters past the aquatic life of all shapes and sizes which made way for their ruler's urgency.

It was the right time to strike.

As your head poked out from under the water, you were face to face with a massive wooden ship. Diving again, you swam away to make way for it and then resurfaced to take a closer look. It was unmistakable: the Jolly Roger ruddied in the blood of victims fluttered proudly with the wind as it stayed anchored to the apex of the main mast. Men of all ages, armed with swords, some gaunt and others rotund bustled about the vessel, singing shanties over their duties. At the helm stood the personage most complained about.

A tall, muscular man, Captain of the vessel, stood steering at the rudder, his long blond locks tamed in a single braid and a soiled red scarf wrapped around his head. Upon his face was a mask rumored to have been made out of a victim's skull. Nobody knew his real name, but from the mask alone, he was dubbed 'Ghost', and even called the Underworld's favourite hound for how many people he'd sent there, certainly increasing the work for the god of death and the dead. But you scoffed at the name, for you knew the god of the Underworld had a hound more favoured than this man.

From what you heard of the prayers of your worshippers, this man was an infernal menace. His band of pirates attacked the kingdom's navy ships, home and foreign merchant ships, and fishermen's boats, looting, setting on fire, and upturning every last one of them and bathing in their blood in cold revelry. You witnessed ship after ship, body after body sink into the water that was a part of you, all mingled with the bitter and salty taste of blood that you hated.

They attacked, terrorized, and ransacked the towns and cities, and in their blood soaked hands they held their victims in an iron grip. Not even the navy or the king could stand before their powerful band of bloodthirsty ruffians. That wasn't all. They even looted and destroyed temples and shrines built for you; these heathen didn't believe you existed and watched them.

Believing or not, would they stand a chance against the goddess of the sea upon whose domain they sailed and polluted?

It was time to put an end to this man.

Diving back underneath, another flick of your tail propelled you ahead of the ship several miles. With a twirl of your finger, you began to stir the seas a little, making them a little unstable and stormy but not enough to cause any alarm to the ship yet.

When you were far enough from the ship that it appeared as a little blip against the now darkening horizon, you emerged fully from the water, your tail now changing to a pair of legs as you stood upon the surface, watching the ship approach.

You raised your scaly arms slowly in front of you and at your behest, a small wave pushed forward towards the ship, beating against it and pushing it back slightly. You clenched your fists and the wave held fast, flattening against the surface. You then yanked your arms back harshly, as if heaving a net full of fish into a boat. The flattened wave rose high from behind the ship and hurtled the vessel forward at a speed that was enough to send them shrieking.

With your far seeing eye, you watched Ghost throw around frantic orders to his crew. The deck was flooded and you could see them scrambling to get the water out. With another swipe of your hand, another wave was sent crashing against them, nearly threatening to topple over the vessel. You raised your eye heavenwards and saw the darkening clouds looming overhead.

"I have to get his underlings out of the way first," you thought to yourself as you orchestrated the wild movements of the sea, sending the ship tossing and turning as a drunken man, causing the poor pirate captain to be unable to take control with the rudder.

"Drop the anchors!" called Ghost in his booming, sand-like voice.

"Futile," you murmured, watching as his crew, beaten by the boisterous waves, scrambled to let the anchors go. Over the crash of the water and the wind, the chains clattered loudly; the anchor flew downwards, splashing water. No sooner it sunk, a single snap of your finger was enough to send an underwater current strong enough to snap the iron chains.

The effect of it was immediately noticed by Ghost, who saw that the sea found it easier to toss his vessel. He ordered for the anchor to be pulled back up.

"It's broken, Captain!" called one of his underlings.

Ghost cursed out loud, still trying to take control with the rudder, but it appeared to him that the sea had a mind of its own. The rough tossing threw a handsome chunk of his crew into the sea; you sent the hungry sharks to feast on them, their blood-curdling screams the last thing to echo in the air as they were pulled into the depths. As their blood mingled in the water, you could taste it in your mouth; you swallowed harshly. Nobody's blood ever tasted good to you.

Your eye turned back to Ghost. Losing most of his crew all at once and right in front of him certainly made his heart suffer the sharp pangs of loss, but adrenaline forced him to look ahead and desperately turn the rudders to control the ship. The darkening skies poured fourth their showers, blocking out all hope of navigation with their fog, only adding to the misery.

"The gods are angry with us, Captain!" the second-in-command, a blue-eyed and brown haired fellow named Johnny cried, holding on to the rudder to keep himself from being thrown into the sea.

"Utter foolishness!" growled Ghost, "Do you believe in these "gods" now that you're in a storm just like any other?!"

"Captain, you know that this storm is unlike any we have ever sailed through!" Johnny exclaimed, turning his face away to avoid a slap from the waves from knocking his breath out of his lungs.

"I do not believe it!" Ghost yelled adamantly, aggressively twisting and turning at the rudder, even though he knew it was futile.

"They must be real! Remember that we have destroyed the temples of the sea goddess?! Those locals have warned us of her wrath!" Johnny tried to reason out his newfound belief, but Ghost was determined to be unreasonable.

The second-in-command was about to speak again, when a shadow in the foggy rain behind them arrested his attention. The shadow walked towards them upon the helm, its glowing golden eyes predatory and vicious, its size increasing in the fog as it drew nearer. Johnny's knees lost their strength and he collapsed to the drenched floors at Ghost's feet, watching with bulging eyes and mouth trembling and agape at this creature that approached slowly.

"Johnny, what are you doing?!" Ghost scolded, but any more words were halted when he saw the look of dread and fear in his lackey's face.

He turned over his shoulder. Standing right behind him was none other than you, goddess of the sea, towering over him a full foot. You stared down at him with your golden eyes. Fear seized his heart as he stared back.

"Who... are you?" Ghost managed to blurt out as his eyes swept over your armor of thick, iridescent scales, clawed hands, and flowing, windswept hair. Before you could answer him, he croaked, "Wait, you are..."

The towering creamy marble temples and idols of you that he personally trashed in the coastal towns came to mind; how he ransacked the offerings and filled your shrines with the blood of your priests and worshippers. The face of the fallen idol he had stepped on was familiar; it was yours.

"Goddess of the sea," you opened your mouth to supply, and it gave him the opportunity to see your serrated, razor sharp, shark-like teeth.

Your voice sounded like the rumbles of the raging sea and wind to him, and infamous and unbelieving as he was, even his knees gave away, making him fall prostrate at your feet. Johnny clung to him, face pale with fright.

"Spare us, goddess! Forgive us!" cried Johnny in pathetic shivers, groveling and begging at your feet.

Your clawed hand placed itself upon the hilt of your sword. "No more," you answered, "You lot have gone far enough, and I have excused your behaviour long enough." Though your voice was calm and even, it was apparent to them from the boisterous waves, the howling winds, and the torrents that you were far from it.

"Please!" Johnny raised his head, continuing to plead.

You drew out your sword. The next thing Johnny felt was the sharp, sizzling hot sting of the sharp metal against his neck slicing against his skin, muscle, blood vessel, and bone cutting through him like he was room temperature butter. With a single sweep, his severed head was sent flying against the bannisters of the helm. His lifeless body slumped down at your feet, his life blood spurting, oozing, and pooling at your feet and at Ghost's knees, soaking into his clothes and the wood beneath him. The Captain of the vessel was frozen with fear and shock. He stared with wide, horrified eyes at the headless corpse of his second-in-command, and at his head being tossed to and fro with the ship, spreading blood all over the helm. He felt something tear in his heart.

"Johnny! Johnny!" he cried and screamed despairingly and agonizingly over the roar of the tempest when he had finally found his voice. He clasped the shoulders of the corpse and shook them vainly, as if it would revive his only friend.

The dead man's blood mingled with the seawater at your feet, and again you felt the bitter taste. You grimaced at it. You took a step back from the two, mercifully allowing Ghost a moment to mourn.

"Rise, you blasphemer," you then commanded, now easing the waves a little, "Draw out your sword and fight me."

"What power have I over a deity?" he answered without looking at you, his trembling hand placed over the back of his dead friend.

You scoffed at this meek answer. "Do not you remember how you destroyed my temples, claiming that you were stronger than the gods?" You pointed the tip of the sword under his chin, nudging his face upwards to meet your eyes, "Prove yourself."

Johnny's severed head rolled over to Ghost's knee at that moment. The fear and panic was frozen into his features, and the Captain felt the weight of his dead friend's reasoning heavy on his heart.

Ghost rose to his feet. You pulled your sword away from his chin, taking several steps back, watching as he drew out his cutlass. He raised his weary, mournful head to look back at you; for a moment he dared to feel something other fear and anger: a sense of awe at your beauty.

"You may be a goddess, but you murdered my only friend in cold blood," Ghost clenched both his jaw and his cutlass as his eyes lingered on the black sword in your hand. Jet black and shining with an ominous, otherworldly glow, it looked like a longsword forged by the gods themselves. The sight of the weapon churned his stomach, as if warning him to not be foolhardy and trifle with it.

"Have you finally realised the taste of your own medicine?" you ask, now beginning to circle him. He copied. "Though I do not murder in cold blood as you assume," your glowing eyes stared right into his dark ones, "Inflicting death is my last resort."

"Is it likewise for me then, goddess? Do you deign to be merciful unto me by letting me live a few moments more before my death?"

"Certainly, I do," you answered, "I must first ensure that you are bark as well as bite."

Ghost blinked once. He didn't see you standing before him.

"En garde, heathen!" you called, appearing directly in front of him. You brought down your sword, aiming to slice his head in half.

Ghost was quick to obey. His arm jerked upwards. Both swords met with a deafening clang. A struggle for power ensued, with the two pushing and grinding their swords against each other. The man was surprised at how you were able to swing your longsword in such a cramped helm.

"Is this a fair fight?" asked Ghost, pushing back against you, feeling his muscles tense and burn at the immense pressure you were giving right back at him. You were after all, in every sense of the word, a deity.

"No, however, for your benefit and mine, I am holding back," you drew back your weapon, easing on the pressure a little.

"You are as merciful as they say you are," he grunted, pushing back.

"I thank you."

The swords grated against each other, causing sparks to flicker at the rough contact. Pulling your sword away, you thrust the long blade to his side to injure him. But Ghost spun on his heel, turning sideways to evade the thrust. He lunged his cutlass to your neck, only for it to be stopped by your scaly armor.

You slashed horizontally against his carelessly open torso. He stomped his back foot further back to widen the gap, narrowly missing his stomach. The tip grazed against his soiled white shirt, burning the torn edges of the fabric into soot. Ghost felt the unusual heat of the weapon against his body and blocked with his weapon, and the swords ground against each other once again.

"What is that sword of yours? It is unlike anything I've ever seen," said Ghost with admiration, stepping forward and pushing against you, daring to meet your golden eyes.

"Of course it is, because it has been forged by the god of the Underworld," you explained, "with its finest underworld obsidian. It is death to any mortal who touches it."

"No wonder it burned when it touched me." He thought.

"And what, did you steal this weapon?" he taunted, smiling under his mask.

"I do not sink myself down to do such devious things," you glared at him, "I have been given complete authority to wield this sword and to kill you."

"And yet you aren't." He continued to look into your eyes, mesmerized by the liquidy gold color with flecks of brown and teal appearing as spokes on a wheel, converging into your black pupils.

This man, Ghost, had been bestowed the privilege of peering into the eyes of arguably one of the most beautiful goddesses of the realm at such close proximity; some would consider him blessed and fortunate, others the opposite, though he didn't realize it.

"Your time is not yet, but it is at hand," You looked back into his dark brown eyes, "and all of heaven, earth, and sea will bear witness."

The fight continued, and so did the tempest. He was an excellent swordsman and put up a fine fight, and you genuinely felt it a shame to kill him. However, duty was paramount. You cornered him to the teetering tip of the bowsprit, pointing your sword at him. He stood in silence, gasping heavily as he considered the raging sea beneath him and its goddess right in front of him.

"You are determined to not spare me, I presume?" he asked.

"Most determined."

The winds slowed from howls to whispers, the rain lightened, and the seas calmed slightly. Ghost maintained his balance on the narrow bowsprit, pondering. He knew he'd eventually die at sea, but never did he think he'd be face to face with the very being he didn't believe in. He looked at you, remembering the sayings of the locals, "Nobody who sees the goddess of the sea lives to tell the tale," and how true it appeared to him now, those words he called old wives tales. Your sword was pointed at him threateningly; even in the dull weather, it glowed with an ominous light, reminding him that Death himself loomed over his guilty head.

You waited, watching him closely to see what he'd say in return. Would be plead and beg? Would he be cocky even at death's door? Or something else?

He scoffed, making you raise a brow. The air was then echoing with his laughter as he declared boastfully, not knowing from whence his own self-confidence came from, "Pity, but the jaws of hell can never hold me down!"

You sighed, "Such is the hubris of man."

Bringing the sword to your side away from him, you lunged. You opened your mouth and sunk your razor-sharp teeth into his neck. He let out a bellow of pain as you pushed him off the bowsprit, sending both of you hurtling into the disturbed depths. Upon contact with the surface of the water from such a height, Ghost felt like he fell down on an iron fortress. The pain pulsated and surged like waves of an earthquake, rattling and breaking his feeble, mortal bones. As the two of you sank, the biting cold water choked and muffled his screams into air bubbles as you held him fast between your jaws.

He was thrown down to the underwater floor, feeling the weight of the entire sea pressing down on his now frail, broken body. When you let his neck go, his blood spurt out, diffusing with the water. You spat the salty liquid out, not even wanting to swallow it, and wiped your lips. He lay there on the ground, somehow still alive, but eyes dimming by the second as he watched the daylight several fathoms over him flickering. You stood over over him with your feet planted on the ground on either side of his waist, blocking out the dim light from his vision. Taking the hilt of your sword in both your hands, you pointed the blade downwards, pressing the tip gently over his heart.

"Have you any last words, heathen?" you asked, staring down at him.

He looked back at you, and there was a certain twinkle in his dark eyes even then as he took in your features. One last time, he observed how your flowing hair floated in the water, how your golden eyes glowed, and how your iridescent scales flickered against the filtering daylight. He opened his quivering lips and croaked a muffled response over the water filling his lungs.

"You are beautiful."

You closed your eyes for a moment and then opened them again.

"I thank you."

He felt the burning metal of your deadly sword sink into his chest, piercing into his heart as you thrust the weapon in. His eyes remained on you, even as they dimmed and his consciousness slowly ebbed away, filling him with a strange peace.

You pulled out your sword and looked down at his body. His blood rose from the wound and mingled into the water like the soft, coiling wisps of smoke of burnt incense in your temples.

You wiped the blood off the sword, signifying the end of your duty. Stooping down, you sliced off the strings of his skull mask and pulled it away from his face to take a look at this infamous man. A pity he was so handsome.

Taking a step back, you rose and swam away with the prize, letting him rest in his watery grave.

[ombre-ame]

Love, oh, what a multifaceted gem it is, reflecting differently in each soul it touches. In my youth, I was an ardent dreamer, captivated by visions of a knight in shining armor sweeping me off my feet. I envisaged a life entwined with the man of my dreams, adorned with love's tender embrace. Yet, reality, as it often does, gently nudged me towards a deeper understanding.

Marriage brought forth a man of striking physical allure, but as the sands of time trickled through my grasp, I discovered that love's abode transcends mere outward beauty. It was a poignant revelation, a bittersweet awakening as my once idyllic perception of love dissolved before my eyes.

Now, as I stand at life's midpoint, the remnants of my fairy tale dreams lie peacefully in the chambers of memory. Too much of life was spent chasing shadows, pursuing a love that was never destined to anchor my heart's vessel.

Yet, amidst the echoes of shattered illusions, clarity emerges like a beacon in the night. For true love, in its purest form, resides not in the transient allure of physicality, but in the enduring bonds of kinship. It finds its sanctuary in the laughter of children, the tender embrace of grandchildren, the warmth of familial bonds, and the unwavering support of cherished friends.

Today, standing in the light of truth, I realize that my heart found its home long before my mind ceased its restless search. Love, in all its splendor, resides within me, woven into the fabric of my being, a testament to life's most precious treasures.

Robin

Thinking outloud @ombre-ame

Feb 17/24

#my writing #my words#lessons learned#true love

[mononijikayu]

phase one — FICTION.

Within this sacred cocoon, Geto Suguru found himself basking in the radiant warmth of her presence, a warmth that surpassed the boundaries of mere physical proximity. Mundane worries and the relentless rhythm of routine, which often dictated the tempo of his thoughts, now receded into the background. Instead, the genuine connection that had withstood the relentless march of years took center stage, its brilliance eclipsing the mundane and casting a soft glow upon their shared space.

Genre: No Curses AU, University Professors AU!

Warning/s: Fluff, Romance, Pinning, Co-Workers, One Sided Romance, Childhood Friends, Secret is Revealed;

note: this was an old idea from when I rewatched wotakoi love is hard for otaku. this is a spin on that!!!

masterlist

logic ≠ love masterlist

HE DIDN’T EXPECT TODAY TO BE ANY DIFFERENT. Suguru Geto's life unfolded with the rhythmic precision of a well-rehearsed composition—an unbroken cycle that comprised waking up, immersing himself in the world of history, and returning home to find solace in sleep.

His days were marked by a meticulous routine, leaving little room for extracurricular activities, let alone the intricate dance of romance. Within the confines of this disciplined existence, Suguru found both anchor and escape, his relentless pursuit of becoming a history professor shaping the very contours of his identity and offering a sanctuary from the tumultuous waves of life.

The mornings heralded a new day for Geto Suguru, and with a sense of purpose, he embraced the unfolding narrative of hours ahead. As a dedicated history enthusiast, his waking hours were consumed by the passionate exploration of the past.

Whether delving into dusty tomes, deciphering ancient manuscripts, or engaging in scholarly debates, Suguru's world revolved around the rich tapestry of historical narratives. This scholarly pursuit was not merely a profession but a calling, a lifeline that tethered him to a realm where the echoes of bygone eras whispered secrets and lessons.

The evenings saw Suguru returning to the comfort of his abode, where the quietude of his dwelling provided a backdrop for reflection and reprieve. Amidst the shelves lined with volumes chronicling the annals of history, he found sanctuary. His home became a haven, a space where the weight of the world outside momentarily lifted, allowing him to recharge and prepare for the cadence of the next day.

This structured routine, though seemingly monotonous to an outsider, held profound significance for Suguru. It was a deliberate orchestration of his life, a conscious decision to prioritize the pursuit of knowledge and scholarly endeavors over the chaotic whims of a world beyond his books. The role of a future history professor beckoned to him as a beacon of purpose, providing direction to his existence.

In the symphony of his routine, Geto Suguru discovered a unique harmony—one that resonated with the pursuit of intellectual fulfillment and the escape from the unpredictable currents of life. The relentless rhythm of his days not only fortified his scholarly pursuits but also created a fortress against the uncertainties that lurked beyond the confines of his carefully curated world.

As Geto Suguru navigated the chapters of his life with the precision of a historian crafting a narrative, his unwavering dedication became a testament to the transformative power of a life immersed in the pursuit of knowledge.

Within the academic confines of Jujutsu High, Suguru Geto stood as a figure known for his unparalleled passion and unwavering dedication to his craft. His reputation as a history enthusiast echoed through the hallowed halls of the institution, garnering both admiration and concern from his colleagues. Notable figures such as Ieiri Shoko from the Science department, Gojo Satoru specializing in Physics, and Nanami Kento, an expert in Home Economics, often found themselves perplexed by Suguru's seemingly one-dimensional focus.

Colleagues would observe Suguru, immersed in the annals of history, his dedication so fervent that it bordered on obsession. Besides the time he spares for reading and drinking with all his friends, he seems to have no time to leave himself to rest. 

Shoko, with her scientific pursuits, wondered about the balance between the rigidity of historical study and the dynamic nature of scientific exploration. Gojo, a physicist with a penchant for the mysteries of the universe, pondered whether Suguru was missing out on the thrill of unraveling the secrets of the cosmos. Nanami, skilled in the close inclination  of domestic studies, questioned whether Suguru's singular devotion to academia left little room for the richness of life's experiences beyond the pages of history books.

There lingered a collective concern among his colleagues that Suguru needed to break free from the self-imposed shackles of routine and embrace a more well-rounded life. Their worry was rooted in a desire to see Suguru not just as a historian but as a person who could explore the diverse facets of existence. They believed that a broader perspective could enrich his understanding of history and, in turn, make him a more insightful and empathetic educator.

Amidst the academic symphony of Jujutsu High, where each faculty member brought their unique expertise to the table, Suguru stood as an enigma, a scholar consumed by the echoes of the past. The concern expressed by his colleagues was not a critique of his dedication but a heartfelt plea for him to discover the harmonious blend of academia and life's myriad experiences, realizing that the canvas of knowledge stretched far beyond the boundaries of history textbooks.

Whether Suguru would heed this collective advice and embark on a journey beyond the well-trodden paths of routine remained an open question within the academic corridors of Jujutsu High.

Yet on one fateful day, as Suguru Geto was engrossed in the intricate tapestry of historical research within the sanctuary of his office at Jujutsu High, the familiar creaking of the door interrupted the quiet symphony of his thoughts. The door swung open, revealing a face from the past that he hadn't encountered in years—his childhood friend standing right before him. There, in the hallowed academic halls, stood the embodiment of a connection that transcended the pages of history.

Suguru blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected intrusion into his scholarly solitude. As his gaze focused, he recognized the features of a person he hadn't seen in what felt like an eternity. It was her—the companion of his youth, a friend entwined with the memories he had meticulously stored in the recesses of his brain. The echo of shared laughter and the hues of their shared adventures flooded his mind.

Time seemed to pause as he stared, absorbing the sight of her youthfulness, juxtaposed against the backdrop of their shared history. The years melted away, revealing the familiarity that lingered beneath the veneer of time. He felt his heart skip a beat, an unexpected rhythm in the well-orchestrated symphony of his routine, as she smiled, her expression a blend of warmth and nostalgia. With a casual wave, she greeted him, the gesture a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had weathered the years.

"Hey, Suguru! Long time no see," she exclaimed, her voice carrying the resonance of shared memories.

Suguru, still processing the surreal nature of the moment, managed a hesitant smile. "I... I can't believe it's you. It's been years."

She chuckled, the sound reminiscent of the carefree days they had spent together. "I know, right? Life takes us on unexpected journeys,  indeed."

The air in the room seemed to hum with unspoken sentiments, the weight of shared history palpable. Suguru, usually composed in the face of historical mysteries, found himself navigating the unfamiliar terrain of emotions stirred by the reappearance of a significant figure from his past.

With a soft smile, she continued, "I just started here about a month ago. Can you believe it's my first day in the office? Crazy, right?"

Suguru nodded, a mixture of surprise and delight coloring his features. "It's incredible to see you here. How has life treated you?"

She took a step closer, her eyes filled with a shared understanding of the passage of time. "Life's been an adventure, Suguru. But same old same old! How about you? Oh wait, I’m sorry I was being rude wasn’t I? I should ask first. You’re my senpai here now, after all.”

“And what is that, kouhai–chan?”

“Can I invite you to talk?”

He was sure his heart fluttered again.

It was as though he was a child again.

It was cute that she still rambled the same.

The offer lingered in the air, a suspended invitation promising to reignite a connection that had withstood the test of time. Suguru, a historian navigating the structured corridors of his meticulously planned routine, found himself at an unexpected crossroads—a convergence of the rigidity of historical records and the fluidity of the present moment. There, in the confines of his office at Jujutsu High, the familiar contours of academia seemed to morph into a realm where past and present intertwined.

As she stood before him, a warm specter from his youth materialized, and the room underwent a transformation. The once-familiar space expanded, the sun streaming through the glass seemed brighter, and the air he breathed felt charged with the freshness of anticipation. Suguru, usually grounded in the permanence of historical narratives, found himself caught in the ephemeral magic of the present.

"Sure," he whispered back to her, a nod accompanying his words.

In that simple acknowledgment, he granted passage to the possibility of rediscovery—the chance to revisit shared histories and weave new narratives within the fabric of their connection. Suguru gestured toward the office worker lounge, and as they walked, the echo of their footsteps seemed to resonate with the unspoken promise of uncharted territories.

At the vending machine, Suguru pressed buttons with a deliberation that betrayed his inner turmoil. He sighed, attempting to calm the surge of emotions within him. It had been too long, and the familiarity of their past interactions felt like a distant memory. Amidst the hum of the vending machine, he wondered if she remained the same, if her preferences had evolved, if the matcha drink he selected still held a place in her heart. His palms grew damp, his nerves encapsulated in a smile that sought to conceal the whirlwind of emotions within.

Suguru raised the green canned matcha drink, the words escaping his lips with a hint of anticipation, "Do you still like this matcha brand?"

Her smile blossomed in response, a radiant affirmation that carried a sense of delight. "Ah! I do~ It still tastes like heaven to me!"

"I'm glad," Suguru replied, settling into the chair across from her. His gaze lingered on her as she opened the can, a silent observer of the joy painted across her features. The subtle crinkle of the aluminum lid, the effervescent aroma of matcha—these small details seemed to carry the weight of shared memories.

As she took a sip, Suguru couldn't help but watch her, captivated by the genuine pleasure etched across her face. Her smile, a testament to the timeless connection that linked them, unfolded against the canvas of taste.

"It’s been such a long time since I’ve just sat down with you and enjoyed life," she remarked, her eyes reflecting a mixture of nostalgia and genuine warmth. Clapping her hands in a rhythm of remembrance, she set her drink down. "How long has it been since I’ve seen you?"

Suguru's eyes softened with a quiet acknowledgment of the years that had slipped through the hourglass of time. "Too long," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments. "Life really took us on such wild journeys.”

Her gaze lingered on his face, a silent understanding passing between them. "True, but I'm grateful we found our way back to each other. This," she gestured to the matcha drink, "feels like a delicious reunion."

Suguru nodded, the resonance of her words echoing within him, creating a quiet symphony that reverberated through the air. As they sat in the office worker lounge, enveloped in the warmth of shared memories and the familiarity of each other's company, Suguru contemplated the journey that had led them to this moment.

"It's incredible how life brings us back to these connections," he mused, his gaze momentarily fixed on the matcha drink cradled in his hands. "The taste of this matcha seems to carry the essence of the past, doesn't it?"

She nodded in agreement, her eyes tracing the contours of the room as if searching for traces of the years that had passed. "It's like a sip of nostalgia. And in these moments, it feels like time folds in on itself."

Suguru smiled, appreciating the poetic sentiment woven into her words. "Nostalgia has a way of turning ordinary moments into cherished memories."

The atmosphere in the office worker lounge seemed to shift as Suguru indulged in the comforting embrace of his matcha tea from a canned drink. He glanced over at her, a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

"So, I heard you're the new literature professor for the first-year college students?" Suguru inquired, his tone carrying a blend of surprise and amusement.

She nodded, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Guilty as charged. Never thought you'd see the day, huh?"

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head. "I never expected you to turn to teaching. I thought you were already knee-deep in your writing career."

Her laughter echoed in the room as she corrected him, "I was doing editorial work, Suguru. You forgot that already?"

"I didn't forget," he retorted, grinning down at her. "You wanted to be a writer, that's why you decided to dip your toes into the editorial industry, right?"

She pouted, a playful defiance in her expression as she took a sip of her matcha. "That didn't work out as planned."

"Ah," Suguru replied, catching the fleeting glimpse of dejection in her gaze. Deciding to shift the topic, he continued, "Still, you as a teacher."

Her eyebrows arched in question. "Still me, what?"

"You as a teacher," Suguru reiterated, taking another sip of his matcha coffee. "It's not really suitable, don't you think?"

A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she responded, "Do I really seem like someone who wouldn't enjoy being around youngsters?"

He couldn't help but smile. "No."

"Ah, I didn't miss your honesty!" she groaned in mock exasperation, shaking her head. "It's really so rude, you know."

"Nothing is bad about being truthful," Suguru replied with a playful smirk.

"Bringing me down once again...."

Suguru laughed, the rich sound filling the room. "It's just a surprise. But well, it's a wonderful surprise. Since I get to see you again."

Her eyes softened, a warmth settling in. "Hm, me too.”

For a moment, Geto Suguru felt his cheeks turn red.

He lifts the canned drink once more.

He should ask the cleaning staff about the air conditioner.

"So, Suguru, what's new with you?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity. The playfulness in her tone hinted at the words she expressed. "Any new intrigue? A new girlfriend? If it's a boyfriend, that's fine too! I'll support you!"

Suguru let out a sigh, a subtle acknowledgment of the routine that had come to define his life. The notion of introducing a romantic element into the equation felt both foreign and improbable. Not when he’s staring at her right now the way he is. He wonders if she would ever notice the way his eyes warmed when he stares at her.

"Not much, just buried in my work as usual. Living this dream of becoming a history professor."

She chuckled, the sound echoing with familiarity. "Always the dedicated one, huh? But you need to loosen up a bit, Suguru. Life's too short to be all work and no play."

His lips curved into a wry smile, appreciating the sentiment behind her words. "Loosening up has never been my strong suit. But who knows, maybe I'll find a way to add a bit of play to the equation."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'll believe it when I see it. But until then, you’re stuck with me and my chaos!”

“I guess I am.” He smiles wider at the warmth of her words. 

As Suguru wove through the tapestry of animated banter and shared laughter, he sensed a delicate warmth blossoming within him, akin to the gently unfurling of petals in the first light of dawn. This warmth transcended the physical embrace of the room and the soothing cradle of his matcha tea; it was a profound resonance emanating from the presence of someone intimately familiar, the beautiful soul with whom he shared a history that gracefully danced beyond the confines of time.

The cadence of her voice painted ethereal strokes in the air, each syllable a melody that resonated with the depths of shared experiences. The sparkle in her eyes mirrored the constellations of laughter that illuminated the otherwise mundane surroundings, transforming the office worker lounge into a sanctuary cocooned in the hues of nostalgia and companionship.

Within this sacred cocoon, Geto Suguru found himself basking in the radiant warmth of her presence, a warmth that surpassed the boundaries of mere physical proximity. Mundane worries and the relentless rhythm of routine, which often dictated the tempo of his thoughts, now receded into the background. Instead, the genuine connection that had withstood the relentless march of years took center stage, its brilliance eclipsing the mundane and casting a soft glow upon their shared space.

Her proximity created a sacred geometry of familiarity within him, a resonance that echoed through the chambers of his soul. In this haven, the outside world lost its audacity to intrude; time itself became a gentle breeze, allowing Suguru to linger in the fragrant bloom of the moment.

With each sip of his matcha tea, Suguru found himself immersed in the intangible warmth that enveloped him—a warmth woven from the threads of shared memories, the playful cadence of their banter, and the sheer joy of having her near. The ordinary metamorphosed into the extraordinary in her company, and the relentless march of time seemed to acquiesce, granting them the luxury to savor the richness of the moment.

In this quiet sanctuary of connection, Suguru's heart resonated with a profound gratitude for the unexpected reunion. The genuine warmth that radiated within him became a poetic ode to the beauty of shared history, a symphony of emotions kindled by the serendipity of their encounter.

He should have cherished this moment when he had the chance.

He could feel that something was about to happen.

It wasn’t going to feel good.

“Yo, Suguru!” Gojo Satoru's voice echoed with characteristic exuberance, cutting through the ambient hum of the surroundings. He waved his hand in animated greeting as he came rushing toward them, his presence injecting an immediate burst of energy into the atmosphere.

Suguru couldn't help but let a small frown grace his lips; it was a familiar irritation, the kind that accompanied Gojo's interruptions, which always seemed to occur at the most inconvenient times. However, at this particular moment, there was an added layer of frustration that Suguru couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I've been looking for you!"

Suguru pursed his lips, a subtle tension forming in the furrow of his brow. "What do you want, Professor Gojo?" 

The formality in Suguru's address carried a hint of restrained annoyance, a testament to the ongoing exasperation he felt regarding Gojo's timing and seemingly perpetual intrusion into his affairs. The air crackled with unspoken tension, setting the stage for the impending exchange between the two distinctly different personalities.

Gojo Satoru's grin widened, seemingly undeterred by Suguru's restrained irritation. "No need to be so formal, Suguru. We're colleagues, after all. Friends too!”

Suguru's gaze remained fixed on Gojo, the frown deepening as he fought to maintain composure. "Colleagues, perhaps, but we have our own spheres of work. Yours usually involves causing disruptions. Even as friends.”

Gojo chuckled, unapologetic. "Disruptions? I'd call it adding a bit of spice to the routine. Anyway, I've got something interesting to discuss with you."

Suguru sighed inwardly, a sense of resignation settling over him. He lets out a small smile. "Fine, what is it that Gojo Satoru needs?”

Before Gojo could respond, his attention shifted to the woman beside Suguru. "And who do we have here?" His eyes twinkled with curiosity as he gave her an exaggerated once-over. "A mysterious addition to our little meeting, Suguru?"

Suguru's irritation deepened, but he introduced them nonetheless. "This is—"

But Gojo cut him off, extending a hand toward her with a charismatic grin. "No need for formalities for the ladies, please. I'm Gojo Satoru, the most handsome, bestest, smartest professor here. And you are?"

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Your introduction seems like a lie."

Gojo's grin widened, unapologetic. "Hm, not really. I have the accolades to prove it."

“You are so shameless, you are.”

“But isn’t that what makes me so attractive?”

“Not really.”

Suguru sighed, his breath carrying a mix of exasperation and fond familiarity as Gojo unabashedly praised himself. The eye roll was a well-practiced response, a silent acknowledgment of Gojo's flair for theatrics. Yet, beneath the surface of irritation, Suguru recognized the enduring charm woven into the tapestry of their friendship. The playful banter, marked by Gojo's larger-than-life persona, had become a hallmark of their interactions. 

As the verbal jousting continued, the atmosphere in the room became charged with the shared history and unspoken understanding that had accumulated over the years. The camaraderie between Suguru and Satoru wasn't just a product of their professional proximity;

it was a testament to the genuine connection forged through countless shared moments, both mundane and extraordinary. The air crackled with an energy that only true friends could generate, an energy born out of familiarity, shared jokes, and the comfort of being completely oneself in the presence of the other.

Despite Suguru's initial irritation, he couldn't deny the magnetic pull of Gojo's antics. There was a magnetic quality to Gojo's over-the-top personality that drew people in, and Suguru was no exception. The undeniable charm in Gojo's playful exaggerations and theatrical self-praise became a binding force that kept their friendship vibrant and dynamic throughout the years.

It was a charm that transcended the surface-level annoyances, becoming an integral part of the unique bond they shared—a bond that had weathered the tests of time and emerged stronger, laced with the enduring warmth of a friendship that only deepened with each passing year.

“Oh, where were we, darling?”

She hesitated for a moment, then shook his hand. "I'm—"

Gojo Satoru’s eyes widened as he leaned closer to her.

She gulped, surprised at the invasion of her space.

Gojo claps his hands, finally remembering.

“Satoru, you’re making her uncomfortable—”

"Miss ******! Is that you?” Gojo says out loud, seemingly unperturbed by others looking at them. "Is it really you? I haven’t seen you since the last Comiket! I was worried when you said you would be taking a break! I've been a fan of your works for years. I used to buy your work at those stands too! Ah, memories!”

Geto Suguru felt his eyes widen.

Gojo Satoru kept showering her praises.

‘Wait.......The BL mangaka?’

She choked as her hands hid her face. “I abandoned that name so long ago!”

The weight of Gojo's revelation hung in the air, and the room seemed to echo with the collision of two worlds—the fantastical realm of Comiket, where creativity thrived under the guise of pseudonyms, and the reality of their current setting, where identities were laid bare. The unexpected unmasking of the renowned artist behind the pen name left an indelible mark on the atmosphere.

As her hands concealed her face, a mixture of embarrassment and nostalgia played across her features. The name she had left behind resurfaced, propelled into the spotlight by Gojo's exuberant recognition. The pleasant surprise she had anticipated turned into an unforeseen encounter with a past she had consciously distanced herself from.

Suguru, caught in the crossfire of this unanticipated revelation, felt a surge of protectiveness for their guest. The air crackled with a potent blend of emotions—Gojo's unbridled enthusiasm, her visible discomfort, the people around them staring and Suguru's silent plea for moderation. The moment hung suspended, a delicate interplay of past and present, as they navigated the intricacies of unveiling the hidden layers that connected them in unexpected ways.

The woman could only feel horror in her body.

She thought she was safe from the shadows.

She probably would have to quit this job too.

[lemccr]

I wrote this originally to mourn my great grandmother, and realized I could adapt this for Bruce. So here, enjoy my suffering.

TEMPLE OF GLASSES, HEART OF STONE

Today I still feel like I’m stuck with one foot in the grave.

That when I lay down beside you to look up at space,

as snow drifts like glitter joining the stars in their night escapades.

I long for the things that can’t be replaced.

Like a moment with you, just seeing your face.

As tears force their way from my heart to my eyes,

a sound echoes in my ears of shattered window panes.

I can’t seem to climb out of the pit grief has made.

So I linger moments longer, with this epitaph for an anchor.

A stone at my back, the last sight of you, a solid gold plaque.

Laugh at the waste of this opulent thing,

that can never equate to what you meant to me.

So I stare and I wait as I watch the time pass,

This memorial to you, Fragile Temple of Glass.

As the wind howls over where I’ve laid,

As to Thamus it calls and to me it says:

“Proclaim to the world that Robin is Dead”

The wind has forgotten MY SON HAD A NAME.

Maybe I’ll get up tomorrow and won’t feel this way.

I’ll look to the night sky and not see your face.

But tonight I will wallow, I will sit in this pain.

This burden I carry, a dying embrace.

There’s a boy who comes round now with a smile on his face.

Tim says that he’s not here to try to replace.

But I see him fly over rooftops with similar ease

and I grimace in pain and fall to my knees.

The world doesn’t see how the time seems to slip

as I sit by your stone while the boy’s doing flips.

I think of those days with you, that I sorely miss.

At your Temple of Glass whispered words pass my lips.

So I wait for the sunrise to try to numb this dull ache.

Pray that this bird too Joker Death won’t take.

Because although you’re still gone, in the grave you remain

Robin’s still here, though he’s gained a new name.

And now that you’ve grown,

Miraculously made your way home

I still come to your temple of glass.

I pray for your safety, I pray that you laugh.

And though the mantle of Robin still seems quickly to pass

From one hand to the next as the years fly so fast

This temple remains, fragile memorial of glass.

A place to pray for their safety so you'd be the last

"Why?" they inquire, questioning its space,

This "good soldier" lingering in its grace.

Not to mourn a lost boy does this symbol maintain,

But instead, here, hope finds its steadfast domain.

This memorial, a testament to my past's refrain,

Once etched in failure, in sorrow's heavy chain.

Yet with time, it has grown, shaped by every prayer,

Molded by hopes, whispered in the stillness of air.

One day, I'll depart from this treacherous road,

From this hidden cave, my vigilant abode.

New stones will mark the places we nest,

Yet, in this temple's shade, my wishes rest.

I hope this place will outlast them all,

Witness the new Robins, and Batmen enthrall.

Safely return from each nocturnal flight,

In the moon's soft glow, continuing the fight.

To mark all the time and the changes of face.

Some things have been added And others replaced.

But one thing holds true in this this hallowed place,

No matter what happens ROBIN REMAINS,

Heroes will come, and heroes will go,

Someday they’ll find this place that I've grown.

Temple of Glass, As Fragile as HOPE.

This anchor of Mine, this place I call home.

[ownedbythescribe]

Tighnari | Over Panacean Lotuses

ıllı Synopsis: "I’m like a newborn fawn now, Tighnari, forced to face the world with a blank slate mind. Will you still love me as I am?” Fate gave him another chance, and Tighnari snatched it up in his hand. No matter what, he will not let go. Never again.

ıllı Genre: Hurt/Comfort

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Part 1: Tighnari - Charmolypi

ıllı A/N: This is the sequel to Charmolypi, just something to close that story by. It’s also a bit of self-indulgent.

It was a lax noon in Sumeru, and by the god's favor, the garden beside the Akademiya was empty of students. Only the sound of nature could be heard and appreciated, so much that it almost made you fall asleep if it was not for Alhaitham’s constant reminder to finish your essay and research material. The soft glow on your wrist became your motivation against the drowsy tide that threatened to sweep you away. Suddenly, you felt a little mischievous and wanted to see the gray-haired male’s reaction to it.

“Haitham, I finally found my fated.” You giddily claimed, pulling your knees closer to your chest at the simple thought of his name and adorable appearance. Alhaitham, pulled out of his concentration on the book, raised his eyebrow at your words. He could see your eyes shine with infatuation and glee, making him curious about who could make you act like that. He was also skeptic that you might have just hit your head somewhere and was currently delusional.

Yeah, that could also be an option too.

“Why are you looking at me like a mental hospital escapee? Geez, way to give confidence to your cousin. But listen, he’s from Amurta, and I heard that his peers often commend him for his academic records. He’s an aloof guy, but I heard that he was not bad to hang out with. He doesn’t like noisy places from what I heard, mostly because of his sensitive ears. He’s got a sharp tongue, though.” You rambled. Alhaitham could already feel a headache coming his way from the way you described your fated and how it seemed like you had fallen deeper than possible.

“I pity him then.” He couldn’t help but tease. A gasp left your lips at his audacity, immediately smacking his arm. You pouted and told him that you had great features that he would—scratch that, should love. You have a unique personality, are witty, knowledgeable on elements and machines, not to mention, you love cooking. What is there to dislike about you?

Alhaitham sighed and placed his right hand on your head, a way to calm you down. He advised you to get to know him more before fully giving yourself to the guy, to remain rational amidst the flurry of emotions you might experience. The prospect of you ending up in tears if this relationship were to fail did not bode well with him. Although he was blunt and rude most of the time, he was glad that you did not take everything to heart and strived to better understand him. You two were each other’s anchor ever since your grandmother died, the only person who loved both of your eccentricities.

“I will! Don’t worry. Should we go home and cook dinner? I bought a new recipe book in Port Ormos, and there’s a dish I want you to try. I’d also like to test another item in your laboratory later. I think I’m nearing a breakthrough!” You exclaimed.

“All right, don’t get too excited now or you’ll trip down your uniform.” He warned. Just as he said that, you stepped on your green dress, causing you to slip and stumble. He gave you a deadpan stare while you clutched your pained knees, comedically tearing at the jinx.

This was but a memory lost to the curse of unreciprocated love of the fated. Truly a painful and depressing episode. Clutching on to the bed, you glanced around to find recognition on your new abode. It was familiar, especially the earthy yet flowery scent that lingered in the air. It reminded you of the warmth he held.

‘He…? Who’s he? What?’ You begrudgingly thought, breathing heavily as you forced your legs out of the floor. Every limb in your body hurt, like Sumpter Beasts stumped through you. Even your head throbbed, causing you to feel dizzy and nauseous. You whimpered at pain, almost ready to throw up if it was not for the voice that entered the room.

Against your blurry vision, you saw a man with dark green ears and tail. His dual-colored eyes stared at you, worry evident in his eyes. Your hands unconsciously reached for him, but you felt yourself partially faint from the pain.

“Woah there. Why did you get out of bed, (Y/N)? I just went out to get your medicine ready. Here, sit down.” He led you to a soft cushion before going back to the table.

Silently watching him work, you tried to recall who he was. There was something flickering in your mind, but you could also hear chains rattling. It was annoying.

“It…hurts.” You mustered. Tighnari glanced back, eyes squinting at your shaking figure. He swiftly finished your medicine and helped you get situated back to bed. The drug worked immediately, knocking you out cold.

The Forest Watcher watched your figure relax while he held your hand tightly in his hand. He swept the hair out of your forehead and wiped off the sweat clinging to your body. It had been two months since he found you in Aaru Village with Alhaitham. He had been delivering your treatment himself. It was not an easy task. Simply confessing his feelings and accepting you as his fated will not miraculously heal you in one day. It was a slow recovery from there on, and it was his responsibility to do so.

“Soon, (Y/N). You’ll be healed. I promise you, then we’ll go to Vanarana and Inazuma like you wished.” He whispered, stroking your cheeks.

Tighnari’s fond eyes slightly watered at how difficult it had been. The damage done by the curse was immense, that you looked like a doll, lifeless yet always in pain. Alhaitham informed him that you were laid off from missions by the temple until you recovered. He also gave the fennec fox hybrid research notes with regard to the curse and the treatment tested by doctors in Bimarstan. He almost gave up, but losing you will be the death of him. No exaggerations there, especially knowing his kind.

With a soft sigh, Tighnari went back to his work. Luckily, the other forest rangers were understanding of his predicament. Collei took the initiative to lighten his workload as he cared for you, while he got Amir and Nasrin to lead most of the expeditions in the Avidya Forest. Cyno would come by from time to time, but he knew that the General Mahamatra had his own burdens to shoulder.

“Let’s see, we’ve managed to get this far. This medication should be administered next week.” He uttered, reading the papers he got from the Scribe.

Hours later, you woke up from your slumber. You blinked languidly, trying to erase the sleep that crept into your eyes. The afternoon light around the room made you feel nostalgic for some reason. It was like you had been in this room numerous times. Standing up, you trudged outside to get some fresh air.

“Beautiful.” You uttered, mesmerized at the scene before you. The large white flowers around made the place special. The birds chirped and flew into the sky, ready to come home and rest for the day. The foxes skittered around, gathering their kits back for dinner. They all had their homes, but where was yours?

You were not sure how long you were outside, watching everything around you pass by. It was like time did not exist in your world. It was a little chilly, but the hollow feeling in your chest felt like the winds of Dragonspine. You had a lot of questions, but one thing you wished to know was where was the person who took care of you?

“(Y/N)! There you are.” You heard somebody say. It was that guy. He seemed distressed, or from what you could recall was the name of that emotion. You were not sure, but you turned around to walk towards him. Albeit a little unstable from the lack of movement you had minutes prior.

“You lummox! It’s already freezing out here. Why didn’t you come back to heat up?” He asked. You fiddled with your fingers.

“The sunset was breathtaking, so I sat down there. I wished you were there to see it too.“ To say that Tighnari was surprised was an understatement. It was the first time he heard you say a complete sentence in months. He could not help but hold your hands tighter, happy about your progress. His warmth made you smile. It was nice.

Tighnari bit his lip at the look on your face. Serene was evident in your eyes, and the small curve of your lips assured him that you would recover, that he would not lose you. As for you, there was a place that you wished to go with him, but the words were stuck in your throat. You did not know how to articulate your request properly, but he circled his thumb at the back of your hands. It was a silent encouragement to tell him what you wanted.

“Can we go over there? I saw crystalflies flickering by that hill. You might love to see them too.” You urged. It was strange for Tighnari to be obedient, but your words made him crumble.

“Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

Once you reached the top, you silently watched the dendro crystalflies flutter in the wind. It was adorable how they flew around, shining the viridian Forest before you. The questions that occupied your mind for a while now have resurfaced, and you had the urge to ask this person.

“I’ve been having dreams, most likely bygone memories. I seemed to like this one person, but I can’t recall his name. You resemble him so much, so I deduced that it might be you. M-May I… know your name?” Your meekness seeped through his heart, the guilt and pain blending to deal damage to the Forest Watcher’s heart. He was aware that fragmented memories were one of the effects of the curse. It was just painful for him for reality to jab him in the gut.

“Tighnari. I’m the Forest Watcher, Tighnari. I hope you remember my name this time, (Y/N).” He decided to tease in the end. Your eyes widened at his tone, making you laugh at his words. It made him giddy to hear you laugh to your heart’s content. He was satisfied.

“This may come as a surprise, but can you tell me about us, Tighnari? Are we close?” The query left him stunned and conflicted. You could see it in his eyes, so you held his cheeks. Honesty, that was all you ask from him.

Tighnari, albeit skeptical, told you stories based on his memories. You were from Spantamad and met him, an Amurta researcher, to collaborate on a project on Withering Zones. It was the first time he enjoyed being in the presence of somebody. You had an eccentric wit and personality that attracted him to you like a magnet. Eventually, he figured that you were special to him, even before your name was etched on his wrist. However, you eventually drifted apart due to busy schedules with you working for the Temple of Silence while him with the Forest Rangers. He missed your adventures and idle chats during this time, so when his hands were free, he would invite you to hang out sometime.

Tighnari noticed you were listening intently, so he continued. He recalled one special memory in his mind. It was the moment you danced under the moonlight, and the Nilotpala Lotuses were gleaming as you used your vision. It was the moment he fell deeper for you, but he could not reenact his feelings, at least not until it was too late. He ended his story with finding you in Aaru Village with Alhaitham, suffering from the curse.

“So… you love me?” You whispered, flushed yet saddened at the thought of Tighnari and his love for you.

“Every inch of you. It became a misunderstanding because I did not enact my feelings despite being fated. I was confident that my love was conveyed to you, but I was unclear. Right now, I want to express myself thoroughly, to tell you that you are the only one I’m willing to spend my life with.” He replied, his eyes flaming with determination. You gapped like a fish out of water, overwhelmed that he never lost faith in what you two had.

“I’m like a newborn fawn now, Tighnari, forced to face the world with a blank slate mind. The memories you have of me may not reflect the person you once knew. Will you still love me as I am? Will it be all right if I lay my heart in yours?” Tears slipped through your eyes, anxious yet relieved to finally voice what you had been holding back. Tighnari wiped your tears and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I will. You have my heart as much as I have yours.” You closed your eyes and let yourself rest in his chest, his beating heart calming your own. It almost lulled you to sleep. The Forest Watcher held you impossibly close, wanting to feel every being of you in his. No matter what, he will not let go. Never again.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[readinglatenights]

Can you write a cute fanfic with belly and jere?

i got carried away... if this is too deep then just send another ask LMAOO

call it what you want babe

lol second thing i've ever written but i've had this idea for SO LONG!! you can totally skip the lines i just thought it was so applicable, this is based on the taylor swift song call it what you want!! warnings: angst w susannah and mentions of conrad BUT UNBEARABLE FLUFF AFTER BEGINNING!! IT GETS CUTE IM SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY paring: jeremiah fisher and belly conklin word count: 749 premise: takes place the summer belly and jeremiah get together, so basically after season 2 (basically canon complicit?)

all the jokers dressing up as kings; they fade to nothing when i look at him

it had been eight weeks since susannah fisher had died. it had been fourteen weeks since belly had broken up with conrad.

but it had been four weeks with jeremiah fisher.

belly realized shortly after reconnecting with the brothers that jeremiah had loved her. he had loved her more true, and more pure than anyone ever did.

and i know i make the same mistakes every time; bridges burn, i never learn

her life came to a devasting halt. people have come and go in her life, but susannah was someone who loved her from the moon to saturn. she always repeated that she was destined for one of her boys, but never understood jeremiah's undying fire for belly.

at least i did one thing right. i did one thing right.

so here she was, fingers interlocked as they walked down the boadwalk of cousins beach, wrapping up their time out. jeremiah looked down at the girl he had loved for so long, ocean eyes adoringly meeting hers. he asks, "d'you wanna find a keepsake for tonight?" she smiles up at him, barely focusing on his words. his language was entangled with the blaring sounds of the rides and people around them. nodding, he leads her to the ring toss stand and purchases 6 rings for the each of them. as easy as it was to love jeremiah, it was hard to win at ring toss.

i'm laughing with my lover; making forts under covers

jeremiah had gotten a ring to stay on a bottle, and the worker asked what prize he had wanted. he gestured to belly, "pick any one you want, bells." she points to the giraffe.

as she walked with him to the cousins beach house they all loved, she made a mental note.

trust him like a brother

as complicated as her life was, she needed someone who would be her anchor. she needed the boy who let her feelings run wild, but would still tie her to home. she unlocked the door to the cozy abode, leaving the keys on the seashell hooks. the air was reminiscent of moments she had had with susannah, conrad, her mother, steven, taylor, and even cam.

yeah, you know i did one thing right.

she let the thoughts clear her head, and let her heart lead her. jeremiah had taken off his shoes and turned on the tv, opting to play music instead of turning on a movie. belly sits the giraffe down on the kitchen island, slumping over slightly as she prepared dinner.

"what are you gonna name him?" jeremiah asks, walking over to her. his hands meet her sides, resting comfortably on her hips, pressing light kisses on her cheek and neck.

she poured the uncooked pasta into boiling water, then turned to face him. "i'm not sure yet," she giggles, choosing to lightly bump his nose with her finger. "you don't have to decide yet," he kisses her forehead. "we have all the time in the world."

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

and they did. as jeremiah prepared their pasta, belly couldn't help but feel that everything in her life was worth it if she got to be with him. exciting nights alone couldn't even fathom replacing the most mundane nights with jeremiah fisher.

my baby's fit like a daydream, walking with his head down

plating their food and mixing a fruity concoction for both of them to drink, jeremiah grabbed the unnamed giraffe. belly sat on the couch close to jeremiah, and he pulled her closer. he wrapped his arms around her, cradling both her and the stuffed animal in his arms. the food was abandoned on the table as they laid together. for all the mistakes that she had made, for all the trouble they had gone through together, it had all amounted to this.

"jeremiah, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be with you?" she asked, nervously. he looked stunned, perplexed that she would say something like this. his features softened as he answered, "bells, you don't have to."

i'm the one he's walking to

"i think i'll never truly comphrehend how lucky i am to be with you." he pauses, looking at her. his pupils would morph into hearts if they could.

this was their ending.

so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to.

[rosehaunt]

THE ALLEGORY OF MOONLIGHT: read the tale on substack

“Permanently anchored in her hovering abode that could have almost touched the moon, her name was Altalune.”

[divinedomesticity]

Nourishing the Heart of Home: A Homemaker's Guide to Warmth and Wellness

In the sacred realm of homemaking, where every corner holds a story and every room echoes with warmth, there lies a beautiful tapestry of nourishment. Today, let's embark on a journey of self-care and tender gestures that not only nourish our homes, family, and kids but also nurture the radiant soul of the homemaker herself.

1. A Cozy Cup of Tea: Sipping Serenity

Begin your day with the simple ritual of a cozy cup of tea. Whether it's the earthy warmth of chamomile or the comforting hug of a chai blend, let each sip be a moment of serenity. As you cradle the cup in your hands, feel the nourishment seeping through, not just for your body but for your spirit. I love chamomile and try to have at least one cup a day. Grab my favorite organic variety here.

2. A Bath Drawn with Love: Soaking in Tranquility

Indulge in the luxury of a bath drawn with love. Enhance the experience with a sprinkle of calming lavender or invigorating eucalyptus. Let the warm water wash away the cares of the day, creating a sanctuary of tranquility within your own home.

3. Beeswax Candlelit Evenings: Illuminating Warmth

Transform your evenings with the soft glow of beeswax candles. The gentle flicker not only illuminates your space but also kindles a sense of warmth and intimacy. Allow the soothing ambiance to wrap your home in a cocoon of comfort.

4. Reading Nook Bliss: Cozy Corners for the Soul

Create a reading nook bliss for yourself. Adorn it with plush cushions, a soft blanket, and shelves of cherished books. Let it be a haven where you can escape into other worlds, even if just for a few precious moments.

5. Culinary Comfort: Nourishing with Love

In the heart of your home, the kitchen, infuse each meal with culinary comfort. Experiment with recipes that not only tantalize the taste buds but also warm the soul. Let the aroma of home-cooked goodness become the melody that lingers in the air.

6. Family Movie Nights: Shared Joy

Designate cozy family movie nights. Pile up pillows and blankets, choose a favorite film, and revel in the joy of shared laughter. These moments become the threads weaving the fabric of family bonds.

7. Nature's Embrace: Bringing the Outdoors In

Incorporate elements of nature into your home. Fresh flowers, potted plants, or even a bowl of seasonal fruits can infuse the indoors with the vitality of the outdoors. Nature's embrace nurtures both the environment and the spirit.

8. Mindful Moments: Breathing in Gratitude

Embrace mindful moments throughout your day. Pause to breathe in gratitude as you witness the sunrise, share a meal, or tuck in your little ones. These pockets of mindfulness become the anchors that ground you in the present.

Cultivating a Homestead of Wellness

As you weave these warm and cozy elements into the fabric of your home, remember that the act of nourishing extends beyond the physical. It's a dance of intention, a symphony of love, and a dedication to cultivating a homestead of wellness.

May the cozy cup of tea, the drawn bath, the beeswax candles, and every tender gesture you weave into your homemaking journey be a testament to the nurturing spirit that resides within you. As you nourish your home, family, and kids, may you find an abundance of warmth and wellness enveloping every corner of your cherished abode. 🏡✨

[ya-chytouch]

EQUAL RITES

best quotes

->

“But magic has a habit of lying low, like a rake in the grass.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Do you think I used magic?” Esk looked down at the queen bee. She looked up at the witch. “No,” she said, “I think you just know a lot about bees.” Granny grinned. “Exactly correct. That’s one form of magic, of course.” “What, just knowing things?” “Knowing things that other people don’t know,” said Granny. ”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“It’s a witch’s hat because you wear it. But you’re a witch because you wear the hat. Um.”“So—” prompted Granny.“So people see you coming in the hat and the cloak and they know you’re a witch and that’s why your magic works?” said Esk.“That’s right,” said Granny. “It’s called headology.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“ Most people’ll get over most things if they put their minds to it, you just have to give them an interest.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“But you must know that a body is like—like a jelly mold. It sets a shape on its contents, d’you see? You can’t have a girl’s mind in an eagle’s body. Not for long, at any rate.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“ Look ’em right in the eye, Granny had always said: focus your power on ’em, stare ’em out, no one can outstare a witch, ’cept a goat, of course.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“The fact was the magic only really worked when she wasn’t thinking about it. Her mind seemed to get in the way.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“It must be understood that while the majority of Zoon cannot lie they have great respect for any Zoon who can say that the world is other than it is, and the Liar holds a position of considerable eminence. He represents his tribe in all his dealings with the outside world, which the average Zoon long ago gave up trying to understand. Zoon tribes are very proud of their Liars.

Other races get very annoyed about all this. They feel that the Zoon ought to have adopted more suitable titles, like “diplomat” or “public relations officer.” They feel they are poking fun at the whole thing.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Not that she was homesick, exactly, but sometimes she felt like a boat herself, drifting on the edge of an infinite rope but always attached to an anchor.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“He tried hinting that she should obey the unwritten rules of Zoon life and stay afloat, but a hint was to Esk what a mosquito bite was to the average rhino because she was already learning that if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly rewrite them so that they don’t apply to you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“And it was while Granny Weatherwax, sweating and cursing, was running along a forest path holding the damn thing at shoulder height for the tenth time that she had found the bear trap.

The second problem was that a bear had found it first. In fact this hadn’t been too much of a problem because Granny, already in a bad temper, hit it right between the eyes with the broomstick and it was now sitting as far away from her as it was possible to get in a pit, and trying to think happy thoughts.

It was not a very comfortable night and the morning wasn’t much better for the party of hunters who, around dawn, peered over the edge of the pit.

“About time, too,” said Granny. “Get me out.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Foolish child. All you could tell was that he thought he was telling the truth. The world isn’t always as people see it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“The Shades, in brief, were an abode of discredited gods and unlicensed thieves, ladies of the night and peddlers in exotic goods, alchemists of the mind and strolling mummers; in short, all the grease on civilization’s axle.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Be a fool if you must, but you might at least be your own fool.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Granny had some quite complex theories about space and time and why they shouldn’t be tinkered with, but fortunately good fortune-tellers were rare and anyway people preferred bad fortune-tellers, who could be relied upon for the correct dose of uplift and optimism.

Granny knew all about bad fortune-telling. It was harder than the real thing. You needed a good imagination.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“There never seemed to be any practical magic, it always seemed to be just words. Wizards seemed to like words.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“All this hanging around wizards has made you take them seriously, my girl. They all call themselves the Lord High this and the Imperial That, it’s all part of the game. ”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Fury rose like bile. She turned and set out after the noise, fighting the seductive forces that kept telling her how nice it would be just to relax her grip on her mind and sink into a warm sea of nothingness. Being angry, that was the thing. She knew it was most important to stay really angry.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“You don’t know anything about boats!” Cutangle protested.

“I shall have to learn quickly, then,” replied Granny calmly.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Lots of things have never happened before. We’re only born once.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“The important thing about magic is how you don’t use it,” said Esk, taking Simon’s arm.”…“No, the thing is…well, not using magic because you can’t, that’s no use at all. But not using magic because you can, that really upsets them. They hate the idea. If people stopped using magic they’d die.”

“Because you’re saying that the real power is when you go right through magic and out the other side.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Perhaps you would care to dine with me this evening and let me know?” said Cutangle, his eyes agleam.

“What’s to eat?”

“Cold meat and potatoes.”

[hate-the-sin-love-the-sinner]

Infernal Affairs: The Scandal of Vox and the Pop Star

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Broadcast

- The inspiration for this chapter was "Ghost" by Ellise

The dimly lit chamber of Vox's domain buzzed with anticipation as screens flickered to life, casting an eerie glow upon the sleek, futuristic decor. Amidst the hum of digital static, Vox reclined upon his throne of obsidian, his eyes fixed on the array of monitors that adorned the walls.

Across the infernal realm, demons tuned in eagerly to the broadcast, their twisted forms bathed in the glow of the screens as they awaited the latest installment of Hell's hottest gossip.

Meanwhile, in a distant corner of Hell, a lone figure sat before a flickering television set, the static-filled screen illuminating the shadowy confines of their abode. With bated breath, they watched as the news anchor's voice echoed through the room, carrying with it the promise of scandal and intrigue.

"In breaking news tonight, Hell's reigning power couple has called it quits amidst shocking allegations of infidelity," the anchor announced, their voice dripping with melodrama as images of Vox and the pop star flashed across the screen in rapid succession.

The figure's heart sank as they listened to the sordid details of the breakup, their eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and sorrow. How could Vox betray them like this? How could he throw away everything they had shared for the sake of fleeting temptation?

As the broadcast continued, the figure's thoughts drifted back to happier times, to the moments of bliss they had once shared with Vox. But those memories now seemed like distant echoes, drowned out by the deafening roar of betrayal.

With a heavy sigh, the figure reached for the remote and switched off the television, plunging the room into darkness once more. But even as the screen went black, the image of Vox's smirking face lingered in their mind, a haunting reminder of the love they had lost and the pain that now consumed them.

[meowcatsposts]

Cold [Long Mian]

⚠︎ warning ⚠︎ : hints of dub-con (no nsfw scenes written)

✎ notes:

the vibes of this fic (and the previous one) low-key reminded me of some lyrics from "sleep well" by d4vd

I haven't played Dislyte in eons, so I apologize if Long Mian is OOC!

Overview: Long Mian visits you after a very long time.

What was he doing here, in your home? Sure, you’d been the one who opened the door, but still–no one could possibly disobey his icy regality…right? 

Long Mian floated around the room, golden eyes skimming over the items in your humble abode. It was as if he were a spirit, graceful and charming, and all you could do was stare dumbfoundedly. A million questions flooded your brain and you wanted so badly to blurt them all out to him, but you just couldn’t; they clogged up in your throat. Not after the fact that he could’ve killed you–an innocent little bypasser–a while back. So you simply just stood there, invisible ice anchoring your feet.

“It seems you and I don’t share hobbies,” he commented, breaking the silence. His eyes drifted from the walls, to the windows, then to you. 

You let out a shaky breath and opened your lips. How long had it been since you were holding it? 

“Wha-” You cleared your throat. It felt oddly dry, and it definitely wasn’t because of the crisp winter air. “What do you mean?”

A ghost of a sad smile appeared on Long Mian’s lips.

 “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, and after a moment of silence he continued, “I’m happy I got to see you again…I want to talk with you since it’s been forever I’ve heard your voice.” 

He wouldn’t take no for an answer; you knew it. Ever since he was little he’d been like that–unwavering. Now gifted with his ethereal horns and tail, he was even more so. 

The snow would be a good distraction, you thought. It was nice to gaze at the frosted scenery; it gave you something else to look at. So, you walked briskly over to the window and pulled out two chairs. One for him, and one for you. 

“What about the snowmen you mentioned earlier?” It was simply out of politeness, what you said, what you did. “Did…you want to make one together?...Like how we did before?”

“There’s no need for that,” Long Mian replied curtly, taking his seat right beside you. A small frown slithered up on his handsome face. “They melt too quickly. Besides–” His tail flickered as he turned to face you. “I came to visit you, after all.”

His mellow voice turned to white noise as you carried on with your conversations. You couldn’t hear anything, even if you wanted to. You couldn’t feel anything, for the matter, because it was just too much for your woeful mind to comprehend. And Long Mian took notice of this, keen eyes narrowing at your troubled expression. He never let even a tiny detail of you go unseen because, in his eyes, you were far too precious for that. 

“Is something the matter?” His sharp query pierced right through you, and you hadn’t realized that his gloved hands engulfed your balled-up ones in an attempt to soothe you. Your breath hitched in your throat.

His hands were surprisingly warm for a cold-hearted man, and quite frankly, it terrified you. Even with all this space around you, you felt cornered–like a helpless, pathetic mouse in the giant talons of a dragon. It could crush you instantly if it wanted to, but it just held you there, dangling. Was he toying with you? you questioned. What was his goal, anyway? To kill you? To preserve you in ice? You broke against your will, and it all came spilling out.

“What’s the meaning of all this? What do you want from me?” you blubbered, hands clammy with sweat. He must’ve felt it too, even though his expression was unreadable. “Do you want to kill me? Preserve me–”

“Shhh…” 

Oddly enough, his soft shushing was enough to quell your sniffling. 

“You’re the only treasure I want alive,” Long Mian replied. His eyebrows furrowed. “Yet I don’t know why.” 

He sounded so sincere, so childlike, that for a moment you thought you were with the charming, kind boy you knew from long ago. 

“It’d be such a shame to preserve you,” he continued, almost raving. “You make such lively expressions. Your voice is warm. Your hair, your eyes, your skin…you’re beautiful, (Y/N), much more beautiful than those frozen Miramon in my chambers. Their beauty pales in comparison to yours.”

His long gloved fingers brushed away the crystal beads forming in your eyes, and they rested on your cheek…trailed down to your chin. All you could do was sit there, frozen, gazing into those glacial eyes with agitated wonder. What was he going to do? What were you going to do?

Too late.

His lean body towered over your sitting one, and he was all you could see now. His robust frame was inches away from yours, and so were his lips–so wintry pale, you thought they’d feel cold on yours. A storm swirled in those golden eyes of his, and he couldn’t resist the primal urge to capture your lips. They’d be all his, he vowed, and his only. The fluffy fur running along his back and tail stood on end, as if static brushed it. You must’ve felt it too, he thought, because your tight lips finally parted.

Before you knew it your lips were taken by his, fervently. He was much, much warmer than you thought, and you nearly let out a startled squeak. A low, faint growl rumbled in Long Mian’s throat. It was a sign of pure possessiveness, a sign that you were in the dragon’s vice grip. If you’d been aware, you would have noticed his tail shivering. It became hard to breathe now, to concentrate. Your vision clouded and you tried to move, but it was no use.

When you pulled away his smoldering gaze never once left your meek one, and it sent tiny jolts down your spine. 

“Please…” you whimpered, pushing his chest with little force. Even under his regal clothes you could tell just how powerfully built he was. There was so little you could do, it shattered your heart. The boy you loved was a shell of his past now, turned into a frigid man. 

Yet, unbeknownst to you, a few embers remained burning. Just for you.

Long Mian leaned in beside your head, his lips hovering over your ear. 

“You’ve already been part of my collection, my dear,” he whispered lowly. It sent shivers down your spine. His fingertips trailed over your neck, to your arms and to your stomach, resting on your thigh. “Ever since I’ve laid my eyes on you.”

The dragon prince had snatched you from the earth, and there was no going back.

[rverave]

Elektra With dawn's light, a tumultuous scene unfolded within the walls of a humble abode. The air was heavy with the weight of unspoken grievances, tension palpable as a mother's voice reverberated through the corridors. Her cries, sharp as broken glass, pierced the morning stillness, shattering the fragile tranquility. The daughter lay cocooned in the depths of her slumber, a realm untouched by the chaos that danced on the fringes of her consciousness. Oblivious to the world's clamor, she remained ensnared in the embrace of sleep's gentle tyranny. Alarms blared, loud music throbbed, and the symphony of passing cars orchestrated a cacophony of sound, yet still, she remained ensconced in her nocturnal sanctuary. Questions lingered like ghosts in the dim recesses of the room. Was it genetics that bound her to this relentless inertia, an inheritance from her father's affliction with sleep apnea, or perhaps a silent legacy passed down from her brother's indolence? Or was it the corporeal burden of her own form, her limbs heavy as lead, anchoring her to the embrace of the bed that cradled her? Yet amidst the chaos, there was a singular anchor, a lifeline tethering her to the waking world. It was the voice of her mother, a plaintive melody tinged with hurt and desperation. In its cadence lay a silent plea, a question without words—why did the daughter not heed her call, why did she not rise to her aid? With a heavy heart and trembling hands, the daughter sought solace in silence, her voice caught in the grip of remorse. Desperation painted her features as she struggled to articulate her apology, to offer herself up for repair, though she knew not the nature of her own affliction. And so, she remained silent, a silent sentinel amidst the storm, stirring the remnants of a vegetable stew her mother had begun before she had awakened to the world.

[rose1water]

Perhaps one of the most significant events in history is the Holy Prophet's (s) mi'raj, in which the Prophet (s) ascended to the high heavens such that he was "only two bows' length away [from God]."

In this important meeting, the Prophet (s) asked God:

God replied:

Of all the answers God could have given, He focused on the qualities of tawakkul [reliance upon God] and ridha [contentment with His decree.] It is only when we allow our lives to unfold without resistance, anchored in the knowledge that God will always do what is wise and in our best interest, that we will begin to live the tranquil life God has always intended for us.

Such a life of surrender however does not protect us from pain. The nature of this world is that we will always encounter hardships. The difference is that while we experience pain, we will not fear it. We will feel secure in the knowledge that this pain is necessary for our growth, and all will be compensated beyond measure in our final abode.

[stackofstories]

Luke listened to the steady drum of the rain. There could be no mistaking where they were. The Stormlands. He settled underneath the heavy fur blankets, guessing at what animal had been skinned as it tickled his nose. Beaver, fox, bear, or maybe the more common pelt of a stag, he knew them to roam around the Stormlands, kingly in their crown of antlers.

Whatever the animal was, it was thick and plenty warm and he considered it mercy on this rainy, autumnal night. Even if he had to share the bedroll with Uncle.

Luke willed himself to disassociate. He moved as far away as the bedroll would allow, even if it went against the idea of huddling together for warmth. Tonight, he untethered. The shadows danced on the wall and he tried not to think or feel anything. He had shelter; he had fire, and he saw a clear river within the hours he and Uncle went into the woods. Tomorrow, he would make a decisive plan for survival and escaping this unfortunate situation. But tonight, he wanted to recoup.

This emptying of the mind nearly worked. Shadows waxed and waned. The sound of rain was a steady anchor of background. He burrowed further into the blankets, drifting to sleep, only to be pushed out of calm by the inane sound of breathing.

Loudly.

Sleep slipped through his fingers despite his struggle to grasp it. Luke stirred, forced awake as he listened to the horrid assault on his eardrums. There came a rather large inhale through the nostril, like the storm and wind gods enjoined tearing down Storm’s End, and then, the extremely unnecessary exhale and the holding of a single harsh yawning note only matched by the most experienced of singers.

Uncle, Luke hissed in his mind as he white-knuckled his furs. Luke willed himself to close his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. He was supposed to be untethering.

Remember the rain, remember the shadows, remember his gratitude at being warm — besides, breathing was a normal exercise and one breath was human, two breaths were unfortunate, and three—

Luke jerked up. Uncle smacked his lips.

“Must you?”

“I know not of what you speak.” Uncle drawled.

Narrowing his eyes, Luke searched Uncle’s face for incriminating evidence, finding nothing but the hint of a smile.

“Stop breathing.”

“I’m afraid that’s a rather impossible request.”

“Try.”

“On my deathbed, mayhap.”

Luke raised an eyebrow and considered the idea. This wasn’t a terrible place to die. Uncle seemed excited about this abode as he had been the one to find it hidden in the leaves. It was a longhouse. The First Men had built them.

“Be quieter than,” Luke said.

He laid back down and adjusted his furs around him. It was hard to get comfortable. The ground was hard, and he felt it trying to leech the warmth from his body. Tomorrow, he’d endeavor to find a better base and build a bigger fire if they were still here in this longhouse.

When it was quiet, Luke found his way back to sleep, relaxing as he felt the comforting weight.

Breath. Louder. Right in his Gods’ flippin’ ear.

Luke opened a single eye and did not hesitate. He lunged with half a scream scrapping his throat. Something burnt hot in the pit of his belly, an exasperated anger, because Uncle insisted on pushing. Always insisted on pushing. Why? He clung to Uncle and every part of his body sang as they twisted and grappled on the floor, the pain of exhaustion and pain pushing them through; their harsh grunts overlapping the rain.

In one quick move, Luke pinned Uncle. His bony wrists fluttered under him. Uncle’s face twisted in fury. His head swam with the tonic of victory. It tasted sweeter than any wine. He laughed at him and felt no remorse because he was still the only one able to get under Uncle’s skin.

It was short-lived.

In another swift move, Luke was beneath Uncle. A single hand on his chest kept him pinned, and no matter how much he squirmed and kicked, he could not be free.

Nineteen was a world away from fifteen. He saw that now.

“Let me go!”

“No,” Uncle said, indifferent to his struggle.

Uncle straddled him.

Luke felt the brunt of Uncle’s weight. The complaint of heaviness was quickly forgotten, awash in uncertainty when Uncle adjusted once more and Luke’s breath hitched.

Panic rose in his chest. Not now. He pressed his lips together. Please, not now. Heat rose on his neck, his cheeks, his ears.

Before this entire mess, Luke dreamt. He had never remembered his dreams in their entirety. He knew of only flashes like Rhaena’s delicate neckline, a servant girl’s breasts, the strong arms of the cook at Dragonstone, and so it went, where in the waking day, he could not focus on much of anyone at Dragonstone lest he be caught staring. He was not ignorant. From Jace, he understood where he could go if he needed relief. He had found a serving girl he liked well-enough to share a few kisses and touches, but he had stopped just short when he thought of Rhaena and his honor to her.

Uncle rocked just once.

And he breathed. Low and heavy. His one iris was black as night. Hightower green flickered in the shadows.

Luke’s pulse jumped.

Uncle’s chilled fingers pushed curls aside, spidering down his cheek to rest at the curve of his jaw. He was ever-changing in Luke’s mind eye. Human, god, and now he was a beast.

Uncle was stronger than he was, the vastness between their strength seemed insurmountable, his hair was a varnished silver and his skin was a bruised apple. Uncle shouldn’t have been so terrifying, but for his large mouth, a glistened gash of red like fire and blood.

His Grandsire Corlys had told Luke of goddesses of the sea. They were taller than any woman with lustrous pearlescent skin and unloose black hair like the murky depths they swam. Grandsire Corlys saw a sea goddess in the Shivering Sea before and he had never been so terrified, so seduced when she had opened her mouth and called to him in the frigid fog. Her voice, he described, was like the sound of ice breaking in a winter lake.

No mortal gifts soothed these goddesses. They wanted only death. Grandsire had survived by stuffing cotton into his ears.

Luke relied on mercy.

“Uncle. Aemond. Please.”

Uncle smelled like sea and salt and fire and rage.

“Please.”

His heart drummed against his breastbone.

Aemond fell to the wayside, pallid and still. Their fingers brushed and Luke suppressed his flinch.

It was still raining outside. The fire crackled in the hearth. Luke stared at the ceiling, the cedar walls, the uneven pebbles, anywhere but Aemond. His heart still beat unsteadily and he was the first one to talk.

“Why did you try to kill me?” Luke asked.

Aemond half-laughed. “Does it matter? Do you hate me?”

Luke’s fingers laced together. They rested on his trembling stomach and he wondered if Aemond heard his uneven breath.

“Hating family is as common as a love match. We have dragon blood and kin slaying is remarkable in how unremarkable it is. But if you were to kill me, I’d thought you would be smarter about the process.”

“How do you mean?”

“My obvious murder would have started a chain reaction. A murder will be met with murder. No, if you wanted me to die, it should have been something that can be construed as natural. Daemon’s wife fell off a horse.”

“Brilliant work.”

Luke did not know about brilliant. He had heard Daemon’s wife was an accomplished rider.

“It got the job done,” he said. His heart refused to steady. Words momentarily fizzled. “I do not consider you the fool. That’s more of Aegon’s role, but sometimes, I think the anger gets the best of you and you’re short-sighted.”

“I do not need a lesson from a bastard.”

“What would my death even accomplish?”

Luke could feel Aemond’s stare burning into him like a brand. He would not give him the satisfaction.

“You’ve always spit on me.”

“How?”

“Your existence.”

Luke closed his eyes. He felt like screaming; he felt like sobbing; he felt tired and raw and terrified. He wondered if he should talk about it. It was the hollow in Aemond’s face; it was the guilt in Luke’s blood and marrow, it was stupid and insignificant and it had happened when they were children.

It wasn’t that.

Luke traced a circle. “Daemon once told me, every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land. Will it be madness or greatness?”

Aemond bristled.

Luke bid him goodnight.

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Wayward Waters Chapter 12

——————————————————————————

Hello everyone! Chapter 12!

time to explore more of the world!

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

have fun reading!

and as always Reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there;

AO3 Wayward waters

——————————————————————————

As expected I did wake up with the word Idiot on my forehead and a mustache drawn on me.

Though it was easily washed off before Yamet yelled that breakfast was done.

It consisted of eggs and thick slabs of bacon with some spices once again.

He really loved to use spices huh? But it was good.

Ronan stumbled in late, some rolled up papers in his arms,  probably maps from all over.

Did he find the one with Kamerasca?

“Sorry I'm late! I completely forgot that I did not sort my maps whatsoever!

…i may need help looking”

Of course, with how scatterbrained he was that was no surprise.

I'd help after I was done with breakfast.

Shoveling the rest of said breakfast into my mouth I followed Ronan, who simply grabbed his plate and took it with him, 

to a side room stuffed full of paper.

Not all of them were maps, a lot were his own observations on animals and plants and whatever else he found, including Imugi.

Worst of all was they were on the floor too and literally pouring out from shelves.

How in the fuck did he find ANYTHING in here?

Well considering the map was missing he didn't.

Yeah it would probably take hours, or even a day to find anything in here.

Suddenly Imik’s head popped in.

“You know, we should just ask to borrow one from someone else, besides are you SURE we even have one?”

Ronan stopped in the middle of shoving more of the paper into the shelves.

“Nope, no idea if we have it! 

Let's go to town and see if someone else has one!”

Better than sorting paper at least.

Ronan ran out the room past me and Imik and I slowly followed while they got their stuff.

Suddenly a little bag the size of my fist full of something heavy and clinking was tossed at me and I fumbled to catch it.

Opening it up I saw it was full of gold coins.

This was more than I ever had in my entire life, in one little bag!

Confused, I looked to Imik who had thrown it at me.

“You helped dive and get this on the ship, so that's yours! 

Besides, we're going to town! A little spending money will be fun!”

Oh so this was basically my cut from treasure diving! Nice!

Well if i was already here might as well get some souvenirs right?

Not like I could ever manage to rush these guys.

The front door slammed open and Jamie strutted in like an excited pigeon.

“GUYS! There's a ton of ships in Harbor right now! Let's go trade stuff!”

Huh, lots of ships meant lots of things from different places,  Now that was something to see!

I got dragged outside by Jamie who let go once we were out the door and jumped up to use Akeem’s arm as a sideways perch.

People with bird legs did not give a fuck about gravity huh?

Suddenly Akeem moved his arm,  tossing Jamie a good six feet up in the air and forward.

They laughed and landed perfectly, running ahead with the rapid, taptaptap of their legs against the ground.

Yamet yelled after them.

“JAMIE! Wait! Ah dammit they are gone”

Well, not like they'd get lost on the island right?

Besides, the rocky path to their abode was strewn with funnily shaped rocks, so finding it would be easy.

While walking to where more houses stood I took in the scenery as Yamet discussed what food to buy with Imik and Ronan, Akeem was picking up random rocks and tossing some away while keeping a few.

After a bend in the path around a rock we reached the first houses of the harbor area, where lots of ships were anchored.

Including the absolut big one whose silhouette I had seen yesterday evening.

In daylight the thing was even more intimidating.

The wood was painted black, save for what looked like to be some sort of metal ribcage that went over the outside of it,  making it look like a skeleton.

It didn't help that the rest of it was kept in similar color and style with dark gray sails.

Yep, no wonder ghostship stories existed.

The name on it read in a fancy red cursive.

Call Of The Damned

Well that was ominous, and they went full out on that aesthetic too.

Suddenly Ronan pointed at it.

“Hey! It's the Call Of The Damned! 

That means Cassidy is back! Let's ask him for a map!”

What.

THAT was this Cassidy guys ship? No wonder he was respected.

Being so distracted I ran face first into a door that was built into one of the large boulders, featuring a carved tree with Long roots.

“Watch where you're going! Also don't bother trying to open that,  it won't budge, believe me i've tried, maybe it's cursed or something”

I confusedly looked at the weird door again that Ronan had just called cursed, but before I could fully process this I was dragged along towards the ship that was way bigger than the Victory Rose and could hold my Ardua form like ten times over.

Though despite getting dragged a good ways the ship was all the way down at the harbor, and not just at one of the smaller docks either.

It was smackdab in the middle and tied to the biggest pier,  which wasn't even wood but stone.

Ronan ran ahead, leaving me and Akeem to follow as Yamet was off somewhere getting actual food for the ship and Jamie was who knew where anyway.

While walking after them at a fast pace I looked around as much as i could, finding that there were more than double the non humans than humans.

The only humans I really saw were doing some menial but fun things.

One with a brown short cloak and dark shaggy hair that went over his eyes was drawing a cat on the floor with chalk,  leaving spaces free for the surrounding children to color in.

The other human I saw had black curly hair with eye pattern hair pins and dark eyes framed by round glasses.

They were sitting on a swing and eating a fruit i had never seen before, the juice dripping on their mostly purple striped clothing aside from the black overall that seemed to have one strap broken and mismatched shoes, one being yellow and the other some soft pink

There was plenty of other things to see though!  

Like a tavern where a tall and horned being with curly brown hair was serving some tables, with the most unusual thing about them being that they had four arms total and as they turned around i could see they had four eyes as well with vertical pupils and ears that were as pointed as mine, though a good bit longer

Well made sense, like that one could hold more plates and the like with that many limbs.

Suddenly Imik grabbed me and yanked me down a narrower path I had almost run past, telling me to not get lost and look where I was going.

I just numbly nodded, oh I was looking,  just maybe not at the road and instead at everything else.

Hearing a clunk I looked up at one of the overhanging roofs,  seeing another person with four arms and a coat write something in a notebook before slinking off out of sight.

I got yanked by Imik slightly to the left and down another narrow road, nearly running into a tall woman with weird lavender colored skin and Blue hair with black scleras and pink irises whose fangs slightly poked out of her mouth.

She also had four arms, this was the third person i saw that had those, apparently they weren't as uncommon as i had originally thought.

Her pointy ears flicked in annoyance as i was dragged past her where i had to jump over the tail of a weird Birdlike person that was covered in purplish blue iridescent and black feathers who confusedly turned around, showing that their face had a blue and black pattern as well in the upper half and feathers instead of ears between darkish magenta hair.

Suddenly the houses gave way to a bigger space, which apparently was some sort of garden as there were Flowers and even two trees.

Something pink with dragonfly wings and humanoid shape flitted past, barely the size of my fist with some sort of flower as a dress?

Wait, was that a FAIRY?

Before I could get a better look though Ronan had grabbed me and was dragging me away, the fairy was nowhere to be seen.

“C’mon, don't dawdle, we got a map to get!”

Yeah, that's true, I wanted to get home as soon as possible even though this place was very interesting.

Slinking along behind some taverns and restaurants and whatever we had to walk around something that had a humanlike torso with reddish brown hair but the body of a green snake instead of legs which was rummaging through the trash.

That was a being I had actually heard about! 

A naga if memory served right.

Then finally we reached the more open beachside, with a little sandy area that contained some boulders that looked perfect to climb around.

Apparently the water was safe here as a good few people were swimming, including someone that looked to be half Orca with lots of scars scattered on their body and short dark hair that had a white streak.

Well of course a marine mammal would go swimming,  if this craziness was over i'd maybe go swimming too.

Though doing that in Kamerasca wasn't advised due to the large amount of crabs that would pinch any swimmers.

Along the beachside were a few stands and shops that sold who knew what.

On one of the awnings,  and denting it horribly, slept a curled up and pale, mammalian being with long ears and a catlike nose and short bluish tinted hair.

How the construct did not break was beyond me though,  but the people there didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Suddenly Ronan let go of me and ran yelling and waving both of his arms up the stone pier which up close looked more like an unfinished bridge to nowhere.

“CASSIDY! CASSIDY! HEY! WELCOME BACK!”

He ran past some people unloading boxes and crates and the like from the giant boat towards a dark skinned man that was wearing a coat not unlike the one Nemas had, though more a dark red than navy blue.

So that guy was Cassidy?  

“Come on, lets go and ask if he had a map, before Ronan talks his ear off about whatever”

I nodded at Imik and we walked past the people carrying stuff from the ship towards where Ronan was talking to Cassidy.

Getting closer I noticed that Cassidy was apparently human, and as he turned around his eyes showed an unnerving pale turquoise hue.

Which really was the only unusual part about him.

Ronan seemed to have informed him already as Cassidy waved politely at us.

And then ducked down as someone swung over him hanging from a rope and slammed straight into Ronan.

“WOOHOO! HEY RONAN!”

The rope snapped and the person ended up crash landing on top of the poor Ronan.

Man he just got healed yesterday! And that looked painful.

“Shalimar! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?!”

“Sorry dad!”

The young woman, Shalimar apparently, and Cassidy's daughter? 

Got up and then yanked Ronan into a standing position as well.

She was a good bit paler than her father with blonde hair and dark blue eyes, wearing a sleeveless leather vest that was tied together in the front haphazardly with a lighter blue undershirt and a blue sash, 

over which a belt was placed that was tied into a knot instead of having used the belt buckle.

She also had a sword that was attached to her greenish gray pants instead of the weirdly applied belt and the handle was partially under some pale fur pieces that seemed to just have been stuffed into the dark blue sash.

Around her lower arms was some sort of cloth covered arm guard,  like I had seen some archers have, just without the gloves.

At least Ronan didn't seem bothered by this chaotic happenstance and just let himself be hugged by the rather unhinged young woman.

Cassidy just looked displeased at her, which made me assume that this was not the first time that happened.

“Whatever, just don't kill anyone like that, because if you do it's your responsibility and im not going to help”

Shalimar just nodded and lifted Ronan up like he was a bag of flour and put him on one of the protruding rocks of the stone pier.

“Sure thing dad! I'll be careful!”

“Careful? You can't even tie your vest correctly! No wonder you never wear boots with shoelaces- gah!”

For that Comment Ronan got a punch in the gut, which made him fall over backwards into the water with a splash.

“Shalimar! Go get him out of there! and stop punching people you disagree with!”

She rolled her eyes but did as told, dragging Imik with her to help,  and leaving me alone with Cassidy.

Well, that was awkward.

Before I could say anything there was a familiar whistle click and suddenly Imugi jumped out of the water and up the side of the pier, spitting water at Cassidy and missing horribly.

He turned to me.

“I say we move from this spot a bit to talk,  who knows what happens next”

I did have to agree with that,  though I'd rather someone I know be with me right now.

He led me to the other side of the pier, to the end of it where a bench was placed in front of the drop to the ocean.

“So, Ronan said something about you being lost and needing a map?

At least from what i understood before my daughter drop kicked him”

“Uh, yeah, i was washed overboard during a storm and need to get back to Kamerasca seeing as i don't know where my friends are now”

He hummed and fiddled with the weird necklace he wore, which looked like a smaller version of those drinking vessels but the pointy end had a metal cap with a hole.

A horn if memory served correctly.

“Say what Ship were you on? 

If i see it when i go out again i can tell them you're okay”

That, well that was actually very nice of him.

“Oh, uh, the Ship was called Victory Rose, so if you-” “Victory Rose?! The one with captain Nemas?”

I blinked confusedly at him, he KNEW that ship and its captain?

“Ah, yes? He's got a tattoo on his face and told me to ignore the hardtack with the maggots”

Not exactly a fond memory.

Cassidy grabbed me and gently shook me much to my confusion.

“Say! How's that talkative son of a bitch doing? 

Does he still not have taste buds?”

Well now I was thoroughly confused, were they friends or something?

“Uhhh, well he seemed healthy, and put way too much fish in everything he eats, how do you know him anyway?”

He thankfully let go of me.

“Oh yeah, before he inherited the ship his gramps told him to work on someone else's ship, i guess the old man feared he'd be too soft or something, and we ended up on the same vessel and became friends”

Oh, that made sense, but before I could retort anything I heard a shrieky voice call down from above, reminding me somehow of a seagull.

Looking up it was a seagull, sort of.

If the Human features were anything to go by it was a Harpy.

“YO BOSS! BAD NEWS!”

The Harpy dived down headfirst and landed on the back part of the bench.

“Nymra! There you are! And what do you mean by bad news? 

I'm in the middle of something!”

The partially feathered face turned to me for a second before going back to ignoring me.

“That can wait! Because we got big problems!”

“Well then spit it out!”

“The pirates are banding together!”

Cassidy didn't seem to worried about that,  and i was pretty sure Rikaad said something about the maringand ships allying with pirates, so no surprise.

“Well that's nothing new, there's always some that bond together for more success, but that will fall apart soon like every time they realize they have to share with more people”

The Harpy, Nymra? Shook her head.

“Not this time, I counted at least a hundred ships! And i couldn't get close enough for long so the only thing i managed to hear was something about taking over, but no idea what they want to take over”

My blood froze, and Cassidy did too, TWO HUNDRED? 

Two hundred ships filled with pirates? 

And possibly the deserters of the Maringand army, 

if they were there they probably instigated it.

And they wanted to take something over…

OH FUCK!

“Cassidy! I think they are going to attack Kamerasca!”

He turned confusedly to me.

“Why do you think that boy?”

“A few weeks ago deserters of the maringand army went here because they didn't want to serve under the new queen,  after they lost a war to Kamerasca, I think they might want revenge.

And it wouldn't be beneath them to promise chunks of land to the pirates if they helped.

I think they are still pissed that we arrested their previous King and put his niece in charge while hes in jail for war crimes of basically every sort”

Cassidy's eyes went wide with Alarm.

“Well fuck, Nymra do you think there is time to send a messenger?”

Nmyra shook her head.

“Not really there aren't any islands between to rest so you'd have to take a ship, and that takes time, the weather in that area is going to go bad soon as well, so not till a few days from now.

Which would mean we'd be head to head with them”

Cassidy cursed loudly and waltzed back down the pier, barking orders to everyone in range.

Nymra herself gave me an apologetic look.

“Yeah, sorry about all of this, I'm sure Cassidy will find time for you later though, he always does! What did you even want from him? 

Well if the question isn't to invasive of course”

For a seagull adjacent being very polite.

“I got washed overboard and wanted to go back home, or back to the ship whatever turns out to be closer”

“What ship? I can fly, maybe I'll see it!”

Oh right, as a Harpy she was faster than a boat and could see further!

“The Victory Rose! Cassidy said he knows it” “Eyy! I know that one too! They sometimes meet up and get drinks!

One time I woke up on the wrong damn boat and had to fly for an hour to find the Call Of The Damned!”

Another reason to not try alcohol then.

“That must have been confusing”

“Oh it was! And I landed on the other two ships first to rest a little!”

Other two ships?

“Other ships? Does he have more than one?”

Nymra Nodded, 

swooshing open her wing towards the Call Of The Damned.

“Yeah! This one obviously! And two others! 

They are called Revenants Vestige and Bleeding Moon! My main job is scouting but I also just bring notes from one ship to the other!”

Well that would make giving orders to all of the ships easier.

“You must have seen a lot of the open sea then”

“Eh, its wavy water, and some islands,  it does get boring after four years or so, tell ya what! 

Since I'm gonna be heading out again soon anyway I'll keep an eye open for the Victory Rose and if I do see them I'll tell them you're alright!”

My eyes went wide, why were the strangers in this place all so nice?

“You'd do that? Really?! Thank you!”

She saluted, which looked pretty weird due to her feather covered arm, and flapped back up into the sky.

“Of course! Ain't gonna take much of my time anyway! 

Might as well do something good!”

With that she flew away over the water and around the cliffside out of sight.

I really hoped she would run, err fly? Into the Victory Rose,  If just so I can be Sure Robin and Rikaad know I'm alive and fine.

Soo, now what? Everyone I knew the name of was nowhere near me.

And I did not want to interrupt any of the beings currently at work.

Should I just wait here?

“Oi! Dee! The fuck you standing there for?”

Jamie! Thank fuck i didn’t have to stay around awkwardly for long.

“Jamie! I was talking to Cassidy earlier but he got the information that the pirates were banding together and ran off”

They skidded to a halt in front of me, distantly reminding me of a poofed up chicken.

“Yeah I know! Fucking bitch ass pirates! Cassidy gave the order that anyone that can fight should get ready! I'm here to get your sorry ass!”

Wow Cassidy was fast! 

“Get me? For what? Do I have to hide in your house till this is over?”

They grabbed my wrist with their sleeve covered hand and dragged me back down the pier.

“Nah dude, a shapeshifter like you is invited to come along and fuck shit up! Only if you wanna though”

While running, well more like being dragged by someone about half my size, i thought about it.

On one hand; it was dangerous,  very much so even and I already went overboard once.

On the other hand; that was kind of exactly the reason I tagged along with Rikaad, and Jamie did have a point with the shapeshifting.

Rikaad had called it the Intimidation factor,  and basically I came here for exactly this.

“Jamie!”

I called out to them to get their attention as they were focusing on not running into people while dragging me along.

“Yeah? What is it?”

They stopped for a moment, allowing both of us to catch a breath.

I grinned at them.

“Lets fuck shit up!”

They smiled widely, showing off sharp teeth.

“Oh HELL yeah! Let's get back to the Halcyon! 

Pretty sure Imugi brought Ronan there already and Imik can swim fast!”

I nodded and ran alongside the nimble Jamie towards the ship, which Imugi had actually towed to be closer to the main part.

Well that saved a good bit of time!

Whoever was at the steering wheel managed to halt it pretty fast and perfectly parallel to the beach.

So either Akeem or Imik were at the steering wheel.

Imugis head popped up out of the water and bend down in front of us.

Before I could guess what to do Jamie had dragged me to cling on for dear life to the uppermost spike on Imugi’s Long neck while they sat atop the Bony skull.

Well that did forego the need to get to a dock and set a plank out,  thus allowing someone else to put their ship there and let their crew go onboard.

Hopping on after Jamie I saw that the one at the steering wheel was Yamet this time, so he was coming with this time huh?

Imugi dived under and after a moment a tug went through the boat,  The Sea Serpent was towing it again.

We were off to fight Pirates, lots of them.

Hopefully the kind Serpent wouldn't be hurt.

Imik started ordering the rest of the people on board to do tasks.

Since i had no idea what half the words even meant i was of no help and kept out of the way as much as i could, 

Opting to just keep an eye on the rope that Imugi was towing us with.

Also for some Reason Shalimar was with us on deck, apparently she decided her Dad didn't need help.

That or he would have ordered her to stay in harbor,  Maybe both even I didn't know them that well.

It wasn't even an hour but at least fifty ships were now following the Call Of The Damned out of the narrow part of the island to wherever Nymra had pointed cassidy.

As soon as we passed the two long strips of land two more ships joined, One with a white sail that depicted a sickle shaped moon that had drops of blood falling from it and one that was entirely painted a foggy gray.

Cassidy’s other two ships no doubt, 

The ��Bleeding Moon’ and ‘Reventants Vestige’ were now flanking the entire fleet of extremely mismatched ships.

Both of them were, while still extremely big, nowhere near as Giant as the harrowingly designed Call Of The Damned.

That really must be the biggest ship in existence.

Shalimar appeared next to me and put a foldable telescope into my hands, pointing at the ‘Revenants Vestige’ with a grin.

“The captain there keeps a rooster instead of a parrot, and the thing sure knows how to fight”

A chicken? Really? Well that i had to see!

Hoisting the telescope up I looked through it at the gray painted boat, and as Shalimar had said the captain, who wore so much layered clothing it was impossible to tell what was under it,  had indeed an entire Rooster on their shoulder.

The thing was pretty big too and seemed slightly off.

Maybe not entirely chicken then, but close enough.

Huh, what else was there? I probably should take a good look at which boats were with us to not get confused later.

Swinging the telescope around i saw that all of the fifty boats were following the Call Of The Damned,  and most of them had nonhuman sailors,  There were even a few merfolk in the water, well at least those that could keep up as the wind was currently in our favor.

I handed the telescope back to Shalimar.

“Thanks! Anything I can help with? Im afraid im not a good sailor though”

She had a huge grin on and seemed to hold back laughter,  but still answered coherently.

“Eh, don't ask me, Imik or Ronan will know better where you can help”

She stuffed the telescope in her belt, which really didn't look like it should hold anything, and hopped back down to help with the sail.

“AY! DEE! She put paint on the telescope!”

Looking up I saw Jamie, who was back in the crows nest,  well Jamie's nest really.

Paint? Running my thumb around my eye there was indeed something like coal powder or something smudged around my eye.

Ah, no wonder Shalimar was trying not to laugh.

Though now she did, loudly and honestly? It was a little funny,  and a surprise that nobody else had done this till now.

Using the corner of my shirt I removed the smudge as well as I could before looking ahead and around again.

I doubted we'd run, sail?, into the pirates so soon and there were all the other ships looking out too but a little attentiveness had never hurt.

I stared out at the sea all day and a good bit into Dusk till I got something thrown at me.

Turning around I saw it was Jamie,  who had thrown a little bag full of sand.

Why the fuck they had that was beyond me though.

“Yo, dumbass come eat,  Yamet cooked so no soggy sandwiches anymore!”

At least some good news, I for sure would not have touched another one of those soggy things that barely qualified as bread.

“Coming, one second!”

Standing up, and noticing my foot fell asleep, I hopped down the stairs and followed Jamie inside the kitchen, which smelled pretty good.

Jamie jumped over a chair and used Akeem as a stair before settling in the rounded window like a content bird.

Once again nobody seemed bothered by that, not even Shalimar.

Sitting on the last empty chair, which was probably why Jamie chose the window, I was handed a plate with a simple mashed potato and some fish with a savory sauce.

Yep, way better than wet bread.

“You still have paint on your face, here”

Akeem handed me a clean rag and I nodded thankfully at him before removing the rest of the dark smudge.

“Thanks!”

I ate in silence, the other ones having enough to talk about without me anyway.

It was just pretty nerve wracking that right now, like RIGHT NOW right now we were off to go look for Pirates and fight them.

The very thing I originally came here for with Rikaad and Robin.

I wondered how the two were doing right now?

Rikaad for sure would do his best to prioritize the mission despite me missing, and still somehow find a way to try and look for me.

As for Robin, well the little ginger was probably worried like no tomorrow.

No doubt he'd cried after he'd seen me fall off the deck.

The deck itself probably had some ugly scratch marks now,  I'd have to apologize to Nemas for that.

“nervous?”

I looked up from where I had just been staring at an now empty plate.

The one that had addressed me was Ronan,  half of the others have already left.

“Kinda, i mean, i originally came here to help with exactly that, but now its just- i dunno”

I sighed and let myself sink head first onto the table, 

avoiding the cutlery and plates.

“Well, it IS pretty nerve wracking, I admit that, but it's just pirates! 

There is no way they can get organized enough to make that dumb alliance actually useful! They are too greedy for that!

I'll tell you! A few days more and they'll start going at each other's throats and I doubt we'll have much to do!

After they are done with the infighting we can just aim some cannons at the rest and be done with it!”

Ronan’s words were actually helping,  but I couldn't help it and was still a little nervous.

“If you're sure, you're the sailor here,  i don't know shit about being on the open sea”

He tilted his head, and I was once again reminded that he was also a half elf Bastard and not actually so unlike me.

“Eh, for being a landrat you're doing a pretty good job! 

Maybe some sleep would do you good,  you said you weren't sleeping well so im sure at least half of that nervousness is actually sleep deprivation!”

That was a very good point, maybe i should ask Akeem where the chamomile tea was as that had worked a little last time-

A Cup with said Tea was set down in front of me, still steaming hot.

“Here, Akeem told me to make you one”

I looked first confused and then thankful at Yamet, 

who grabbed Ronan’s upper arm and dragged him outside.

Yamet was a pretty alright guy, even making sure I wouldn't have anyone trying to talk my ear off while I drank the tea.

A tea that was pretty good, Yamet had added Honey or something similar to it which made it even better.

Though, as soon as those Pirates and the Maringand deserters were dealt with I could go back home to my friends.

Who knew maybe I'd even run into them while fighting the pirates.

Ha, unlikely, but still a nice thought.

As soon as I was finished with the Tea and put the cup back down I got lifted up from my seat like a wet cat.

Akeem, he really was the only one on this ship that could feasibly lift me up.

“I can walk myself”

“And i am just making sure you actually go to sleep,  i live with Ronan and Jamie so you never know”

Well… yeah, fair.

But he didn't have to carry me under one arm like a fucking duffel bag.

“Well yeah but i can still use my legs”

Akeem just hummed an acknowledgement and opened a door to a familiar room.

Well Akeem didn't need sleep and With Shalimar here they probably had no Guestbed, especially as Yamet was now here too.

Still, I felt a bit bad about taking someone else's room, or would if Akeem didn't just drop me on the mattress and then left quietly.

“Goodnight”

I mumbled something in return but he had already closed the door.

Eh, might as well sleep then.

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