#I cannot even remember how old he is but it’s been like 4 years at least of not sleeping without him

[jgracie]

LOVE GROWS (WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES) — PERCY + CHILD OF DEMETER

masterlist | rules

❝ Hiya,can i request if you have time,Percy dating a Demeter kid?Thank you💕 ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of demeter

pairing percy jackson x demeter!reader

warnings me projecting as a child of demeter LOL, one swear word

on the radio . . . love grows (where my rosemary goes) (edison lighthouse)

an never stop requesting demeter!reader guys (i live vicariously through her) also this features another travis cameo LOL him and percy are bffs in my head ALSO the watering can thing is inspired by stardew valley i cannot wait for the day i get to upgrade to sprinklers

Percy’s never been a morning person. However, he has been forced awake at ungodly times due to nightmares

This was one of those times. He could barely remember what the dream was about, all he knew was that it was bad enough for him to wake with a start, his body drenched in sweat as he tried to recollect himself

Looking over at the clock on his bedside table, Percy could barely make out the time: 5:35AM. Well, there was no point going back to sleep now. Even if he did, he’d probably just be visited by nightmares again

So, Percy slipped the nearest t-shirt on and left his cabin, unsure of where he was heading - maybe the beach to cool off? Who knows, he was in disarray. The worst dreams were always the ones you couldn’t remember, the fear of them possibly being important haunting your day

Suddenly, Percy smelt a comforting scent waft through the air. He’d never smelt anything like that before. It couldn’t be ambrosia or nectar - while they both had good scents, they weren’t half as strong as this one. What could it be?

He decided to follow his instinct and find where the smell was coming from. Which led him to cabin 4

Despite it being right across from his own, Percy never paid cabin 4 much attention. Not until now

He continued following the scent and ended up at the back of the cabin, where there was a huge garden filled with what Percy believed to be the most appetising fruits and vegetables he’s ever seen. To the side, there was a greenhouse, where he could see the silhouette of a person

Curious, Percy made his way over to the greenhouse. He’d never spoken to a Demeter kid before, but he’d heard of your nurturing nature and kind hearts in passing

“It’s okay, Cassie, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” Percy heard a voice say, stopping in his tracks. Deciding to take a peek, he found himself facing an angel

You were rocking a young girl who seemed to be six years old at most back to sleep in your arms. Wherever you went, the flowers in the greenhouse bloomed brighter, gravitating towards you and wrapping their stems around your arms, almost as if they were vying for your attention

The girl’s face was tear-streaked, but she nodded, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, praying to your mother that she wouldn’t have another nightmare

You hated when the younger kids got nightmares - they could barely understand the fact that one of their parents is a God, let alone comprehend the strange demigod nightmares

Then, you noticed him. When you locked eyes, Percy felt as if the last puzzle piece of his life was finally put in place. Was it too early to say you were made for him?

“Hello! Welcome to Flowers and Vines (shoutout to Stella for naming it!), how may I help you today?” You said, your cheery tone snapping Percy out of the trance you put him in. Walking inside (he’d been simply listening next to the door), Percy sheepishly rubbed his neck, hoping you didn’t think he was some weird stalker

Percy looked around, now fully being able to see everything your greenhouse had to offer. His mom would love this place

“Oh, I’m good, thanks… I didn’t know you guys had a flower shop here! That’s really cool…” Percy said, trailing off at the end once he realised he didn’t know your name. He was a little embarrassed, but luckily, you didn’t seem to mind

Giggling, you continued for him, “Y/N, my name’s Y/N. And Flowers and Vines is more than just a flower shop, we sell produce too! Mr D’s kids help us with the grapes.” As you told him all of this, you were going around with a pretty pink watering can and watering every single plant in the whole greenhouse. Surely, there must be a more efficient way to water them all?

That morning, Percy decided he would buy a flower from you. When you’d asked which one he wanted, he simply told you to surprise him

“These are some of my favourites,” you said while wrapping your flowers of choice - to Percy, they looked like every other pink, round flower out there, but he’d learn the difference for you. These were now special

Handing him the little bouquet, you continued, “Rhododendron - ‘I shall never look upon your like again’, that’s what they mean. I don’t see them around much anymore, which is why I planted them here!”

It was almost like you knew Percy would never look upon your like again. When he’d asked you how much they were for, you insisted on giving them to him on the house. After much arguing, Percy accepted, keeping them right next to his bed. Something about them made the nightmares a little better

After that day, Percy couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything he saw around him reminded him of you - from the flowers in the forest to the smell of mangoes in the air as their season arrived

He’d see you occasionally, too, and would shyly wave whilst hoping you didn’t notice the way his face turned a bright red when you waved back

You thought Percy was really cute, too, and were a little disappointed when he didn’t show up a second time after your original rendezvous. You began taking on so many shifts you might as well have been working at Flowers and Vines full time. Your siblings (as well as Dionysus’ kids) teased you relentlessly for this, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to see him again

And then you did

Percy’s idea was one that was suggested by none other than Travis Stoll. He was simply catching up with the son of Hermes when he’d brought up the fact that everyone working at Flowers and Vines watered the plants using watering cans (something which had been really bothering Katie)

When Percy had asked why they did that, Travis explained that they used to have sprinklers but after the Ares cabin tinkered with them once (they were bitter over a game of Capture the Flag), causing the water to go all over the place and killing a lot of the flowers, the sprinklers were unusable and currently being fixed by the Hephaestus cabin

That’s when Percy came up with it. Since he was a son of Poseidon, he could spread water from a source as far as he wanted to. Therefore, he could help with your issue and have an excuse to talk to you

Immediately, Percy ran to the flower shop/fruit market he’d grown to love so dearly

“Hi! Is Y/N here?” He asked one of your siblings, breathless. They nodded and pointed behind them, smirking as they snuck knowing glances to your other siblings

There you were, in all your glory. You seemed to sparkle under the Sun, watering the flowers with your little pink pot. When the water ran out, you sighed. You really needed to invest in a bigger one

Just as you were about to go fill it, Percy proudly announced, “you won’t have to do that anymore!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. As you turned around, you fought the urge to hug the boy. Despite only speaking with him once, you really did miss Percy

Intrigued, you followed Percy to the fountain in the middle of the greenhouse. Before, it used to just be for decoration (since you had sprinklers), but now it came very handy for refilling your watering cans

Extending his arm towards the fountain, Percy willed droplets of water to hover in the air, then, with one motion, threw them all over the greenhouse, watering your plants perfectly

“Oh my Gods, Percy, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed, running over to him and giving him a peck on the cheek. It was a spontaneous decision mainly done because you were getting quite tired of manually watering all your plants

After that, Percy began working at Flowers and Vines as your temporary plant-waterer. You, your siblings and Dionysus’ kids would all cheer when he’d appear, and he’d play into it, making a big show out of getting the water out of the fountain and sprinkling it over the plants, winking at you as he did so

The plants seemed to flourish even more than usual, too. You told yourself it was probably because water from a son of Poseidon was more powerful than normal water (or something along those lines), but you knew the truth

As a child of Demeter, much like your mother, your emotions influenced nature around you. When you were sad, plants would wilt and wither, mimicking the winter Demeter creates whenever Persephone is in the Underworld

The opposite was true. Whenever you were happy, plants would blossom and bloom all around - and you were really happy when Percy was around. Which is why you needed to tell him before the Hephaestus cabin fixed your sprinklers

However, fear got the best of you every time you tried to get the words out of your mouth. Despite practising several times with your siblings (and even once with the Aphrodite cabin), whenever you tried telling Percy, you’d get shy and vines would grow out of your head, tangling with your hair and acting as a shield

Unfortunately for you, Percy couldn’t tell from that that you liked him, so you simply had to get over your fears and say it

Your confession happened on Percy’s last day as your plant waterer. That morning, Katie had pulled you to the side, telling you to hurry up your confession to Percy as she and Travis couldn’t delay the Hephaestus cabin any more (they were getting quite annoyed, having worked on the sprinklers for so long. What did those Ares kids do to them?)

So, you spent the whole day bracing yourself for Percy’s arrival. All you had to do was say it, get his response and move on with your life. It wasn’t that big of a deal!

After Percy watered the plants, everyone watched in silence, waiting for you to say something

“Hey… Percy, can we talk?” You asked, ignoring the hushed cheers of your siblings as you approached the boy. He nodded, smiling at you and letting you lead him to the back, where you kept all the extra supplies

Sitting on a stool, Percy looked up at you, just noticing your nervousness, “is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You practically had this memorised. You just had to get the words out. You couldn’t get the words out

The vines grew from your head again and you wanted nothing more than to cocoon yourself in them. You’d faced terrifying monsters with a calm smile and eliminated them like you were pulling weeds out of your gardens, but you couldn’t tell a boy you liked him?

At this point, the vines were wrapping around the stool Percy was sat on, and he stood up, confused

Slowly, he made his way over to you and brushed the vines away from your face. As he looked into your wide eyes, he finally understood. Cupping your face with his hands, Percy placed a tender kiss on your lips

“I like you too, Y/N. Like, a lot”

Ok dating hcs 🥳

First of all I just wanna say PICNIC DATES!!! Sometimes you have them on the beach and it’s like you combined both your worlds <3

As a child of Demeter I can confidently say we know how to cook. Percy’s so in love with your cooking. He never thought any cooking could rival his mother’s until you came along

Somehow, you knew how to make meals that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If you asked him to taste ambrosia and one of your meals blindfolded and then choose one, he’d choose yours in a heartbeat

He’s also so obsessed with the fresh produce you bring from Flowers and Vines. I said this in my Percy x Persephone!Reader headcanons but I don’t think Percy’s much of a fruits/vegetables guy so the fact that you have him hooked on them says a lot

Swears he’s addicted. You think he’s just saying that to flatter you but he means it. If someone asked him if he had an addiction he’d look them dead in the eye and go, “yes, my partner’s bell peppers.”

He’s actually right though! Demeter + Dionysus kid powers make the produce taste a little fresher and last for way longer

Percy also decides to learn the language of flowers. He borrows a book about it from the Athena cabin and makes little notes and everything

Once, you came to his cabin and found the book full of scrawled annotations and sticky notes in it and you had to fight the urge to bawl your eyes out because he’s just so adorable

Will literally buy you flowers from your own flower shop though LMAO he doesn’t even try to do the transaction with anyone else. He’ll buy them and you’ll give them to him and he’ll be like “oh thanks I’m gonna go give this to the light of my life now” and he just hands them back to you

Percy’s also def the type of guy to keep one with him so he can get you new ones as soon as they start to wilt. Except his timing is always off because flowers tend to last a little longer when they’re around you

Lowkey still works at Flowers and Vines except he just follows you around and has no salary (he says his salary are kisses from you but knows he’d get them regardless LOL)

Brings Sally and Paul to Flowers and Vines and they’re immediately hooked because flowers in the mortal world aren’t half as beautiful as these hello??

Also, as a child of Demeter, you are naturally very motherly and caring. He loves seeing you interact with Estelle so much!!!

His half-sister warmed up to you extremely quickly and now refuses to be babysat by anyone who isn’t you. Like it can’t even be Percy alone you have to be there!!

Percy ALSO loves it when you dote on him. This leads to him being a little dramatic at times

Looking up, you saw a pouty Percy make his way over to you, his brows furrowed as he looked down at his finger

“Y/N! You won’t believe what happened!” He said. The first couple times he pulled this stunt, he’d scared you shitless, but you now knew all about your boyfriend’s antics and simply gave him a knowing smile

Feigning worry, you asked, “oh no, what is it?” Percy revealed his finger to you, which had a barely noticeable cut at the tip of it

“I was talking to Clarisse when all of a sudden she swung at me!” He told you, looking over to the side. In reality, he’d asked Clarisse to cut him, knowing only a child of Ares could have such precision with a weapon

Sporting a pout of your own, you took Percy’s finger and peppered it with kisses, “I’ll speak to Clarisse, don’t worry.” You said

“Uhh.. Y/N.. she also punched me in the lips… My lips really hurt.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get much work done that day (SAFE FOR WORK!)

[rinniessance]

TEENAGE FEVER ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x fem!reader x satoru gojo

SUMMARY. you, satoru and suguru have been taking care of the fushiguro kids and the twins since your teenage days. after your latest mission, you reminisce about the beginnings of your little family. and during an impromptu trip, unspoken feelings finally come to a boil.

꒰ warnings: pure fluff! idiots in love. friends to lovers, mutual pining, family dynamics, non-canon compliant, megumi calls you mommy once ♡ // word count: 11.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: another repost from my old account .ᐟ.ᐟ just really wanted to have this piece on my new blog <3 ꒱

sometimes you wonder why you agreed to be a part of madness that is the geto/gojo/you in a co-parenting throuple (you internally scream every time you remember how nonchalant satoru was about that description. what? i think that’s kind of adorable. you and suguru did not agree; somehow the name still stuck around). you would think that a pair of strongest sorcerers would be able to handle four first graders yet dozens of notifications that finally came through to your phone prove otherwise. your left eye twitches.

[ groupchat notifications: co-parenting throuple ] ‘toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\: girl dinner ! ‘toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\: [picture] sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎: im sorry i wasn’t there to prevent the disaster sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎: shall i prepare the casket?

messages are stamped two hours ago, and you’re too afraid to open the picture, dozens of different scenarios popping up in your head at the speed of light. when you finally unlock the messages, you think suguru was considerate enough to even suggest a casket because once you’re done with satoru gojo, there will be no body to bury.

you: you fed them cake for dinner ??      toru  /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ responded: it’s sunday! they deserve a little treat!         sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎ responded: it’s a 12-inch cheesecake you responded: satoru, i know what you want to say, zip it. you’re in so much trouble already.

you: and why is it only you with the girls, where is megumi????      toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ responded: and ‘gumi ate regular dinner like a child-man he is :<          you responded: it’s called a man-child satoru… toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\: responded: no, megumi is a child-man because he has a soul of a man trapped in a body of a seven year old      sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎ responded: so you’re calling him benjamin button?           you responded: that’s why he doesn’t like either of you.

the frustration you felt towards satoru mere two minutes ago dissipates and gives space to something much warmer; the feeling that was tugging at you the whole weekend as you travelled to korea, sent away on a mission (you found yourself missing your little family more than you expected); the feeling that made you treating exorcising curses with utmost care because for the first time in a while, you want to come home safe. with a simple reminder of how lucky you’re to have satoru and suguru protecting the little piece of safe haven you carved out for yourselves; all the anger is gone as if it was never there in the first place.

you’re about to scroll through the earlier messages but flight attendant announces that the passengers are finally clear to get off the plane, so you shove the phone into your bag, grab your carry-on and hurry out. security check is surprisingly fast, and you’re riding a taxi back home in no time. you send a quick message to the group chat that you’re on your way and close your eyes.

quiet hum of the radio, steady movement of the car, and familiar surroundings immediately bring you peace – you’ve been feeling restless during your whole weekend trip, and now that you’re almost back with people you want to be with the most, you cannot help but smile. you’re being lulled to sleep by something pleasant playing on the radio, and your thoughts drift back to the day you found that being teenage parents can come in different forms.

3 years ago

you sigh again as you look at your watch. 4:23pm, satoru was supposed to be here 23 minutes ago. not only that, but he’s been ignoring your calls, not responding to your messages and did not tell anyone where he’s suddenly gone off to. suguru cannot be reached either, you know he has a mission today, so now you’re stranded in the middle of shibuya, your least favorite place to be, alone. you think this is the day you finally stab satoru gojo because he has the absolute nerve to beg you to come to this new dessert cafe, the one that just opened. supposedly, it was so good, you just have to try it - satoru convinced you to join him, knowing that you hate being in overcrowded spaces, only for to him to ghost you.

buzz of your phone brings you out of your thoughts.

[ incoming call: toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ ]

“i swear to god, satoru, you better have to save half the planet as an excuse or —”

“where are you?”

“what? what do you mean where am i? in shibuya, where we were supposed to meet almost 30 minutes ago!”

“we’re going back to the school now, come back as soon as you can.”

and then he hung up. you blankly stared at the screen of your phone like it would somehow explain what just happened. with a deep sigh, you put the phone away and massage your temples, feeling the headache coming. satoru gojo might be the one who’s getting migraines from having six eyes but he always makes sure you have one too, just for the company.

ride back to the school is quick and easy – thankfully you’re in time to beat the rush hour, and currently, you’re standing in front of tokyo high. now that you’ve had time to calm your anger and frustration down, you realize that gojo would’ve at least texted you if he was late. something must’ve happened, and you feel panic start spreading its icy tentacles all over your body. picking up the pace, you almost run through the courtyard, pass the temple decorum and straight to doctor’s office – you assume he would be there if something happened.

you finally stand in front of the door: your breathing is heavy and you’re dizzy from how fast you sped up. the horrors of last year’s mission flash before your eyes, painting it blood, sorrow and anger, and you pray to every god known that it’s not a repeat of that failure. you almost lost suguru to the darkness that preyed on him, stalking his shadows, seeping through his skin – you are still haunted by how hollow his eyes became. you’re sure seeing him like this again will break you instead this time. you try to steady your breathing and knock.

“you can come in.”

of course satoru would know you were here. pushing the door and walking into the room, you are met by two little girls sitting on each suguru’s side on the hospital bed. satoru is standing next to them and observing his best friend who is gently murmuring something to the twins. both of them look unharmed which means shoko already worked her magic if it was necessary. it seems none of you want to bring up the elephant in the room so you just take a sit in the chair next to the desk.

“what happened?” your voice sounds loud in the hushed murmurs bouncing off the wall, and all four pairs of eyes are directed at you. it seems you startled the girls as they grabbed onto suguru’s sleeves – you cannot help but stretch your lips in a pretty smile, waving to them. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell them in a hushed tone this time, “would you tell me your names if i told you mine?”

brunette twin shakes her head for the both of them, and you introduce yourself. same girl responds to your curiosity.

“i am mimiko, and we’ve never met our parents but i know i am older by 5 minutes. and this,” she points at the girl on the opposite side of suguru, “is nanako. she is always a little shy so i make sure to talk for the both of us!” blonde girl curls a little more into your friend, and you finally make eye contact with him. you’re a little lost by what you see – hurt, anger, tenderness, confusion, he looks so defeated yet relieved at the same time. you’re turning to look at satoru instead but he only shrugs his shoulders.

“don’t look at me, he didn’t really share any details with me either.”

you hum in response and get up from the chair, walking to where the hospital bed is and squat to face them, extending your hand.

“well, it’s really nice to meet you, mimiko and nanako,” and as you get a little closer to their face, you whisper as it’s meant to be a secret, “i think we’ll become really good friends.”

from what satoru told you, it seems that him and suguru hadn’t had a chance to talk yet – girls looked very attached to dark-haired man already, it’s most likely they wouldn’t leave his side and whatever gojo wanted to discuss was not meant for children’s ears. you’re too scared to overstep the friendship boundary you just started building with the girls but you know the look on your friends’ faces, and they tell you they need to have a serious and most likely unpleasant conversation (not too hard to guess what about). standing up, you tentatively reach out your hands to nanako and mimiko.

“have you ever tried crepes? there is a very good place that sells them nearby. what do you say if we go and grab some dessert, just us girls?”

you could see their eyes lit up as they looked back at suguru, looking for a confirmation you’re safe to go with. he smiled at them (that smile that sometimes makes your heart skip a beat and makes you yearn for something you know you could never have), making wrinkles appear in the corner of his crescent-like eyes.

“she is my friend, you can go with her. i’ll meet you in a little bit,” and as he looked back at you, he mouthed quiet “thank you”. you only smiled in return: suguru never needed to thank you, not after the near escape to hell you guided him away from; not after the sleepless nights you spent keeping him a quiet company on the rooftops of jujutsu tech because silence was everything he needed in those moments; not after tight embraces you had to hold him in when you witnessed a sliver of panic attack creeping up on him when he least expected it. in the year that followed the disastrous star plasma vessel mission, you were the light that guided suguru back to himself, back to satoru, back to you. geto didn’t need to say thank you, at least not to you, not anymore.

grabbing two little girls by their hands, you lead them out of school.

“i promise you we will have the best time.”

present

the particular rough bump of the car brings you back to the present moment. you look at the time on your phone, display showing 11:23pm, and you smile looking at the picture on your lockscreen: it’s a picture of satoru with nanako and mimiko, their mouths stuffed full of crepes.

after suguru decided to take the girls in, you and satoru made it a habit of coming over and helping him take care of them. geto and gojo used to be inseparable but the rift that broke in between them in the year that followed amanai riko’s death was a surprise. being close to both strongest sorcerers, you knew why it was there, you knew the sheer trauma of it for both of them. so you stayed with gojo when he needed you to keep reminding him that his shoulders do not have to carry the weight of the whole world, and you’re here to share it. and you stayed with geto when he was plunged into the coldness of heart-wrenching guilt and needed you to pull him out from under the deep. after suguru adopted nanako and mimiko, you were the bridge that crossed a seemingly bottomless crevice between the two of them.

making satoru see what he was missing with suguru’s behavour at the time and asking suguru to understand why satoru was seemingly oblivious to it in the first place – the confusion, the pain, the loss of innocence, and everything unsaid that went on between them – was almost as difficult as being a sorcerer in the first place. by a miracle, you stopped being their overpass as they started rebuilding their bridges themselves. yet, the connection you weaved with the sacred geometry of your hands between the three of you created a special bond that prevailed until this day.

unlocking your phone, you scroll through the earlier messages in the chat: messages that kids already miss you (sent 30 minutes after your plane took off on friday), stories about their successful disneyworld trip on saturday (traitors, you think, you’ve been begging them for a family outing there for months now), and cake-baking adventures today (you internally dread the mess that will have to be cleaned up in the kitchen). looking back at you from your home screen is the picture of megumi and tsumiki on their first day of school, proud suguru holding both their hands (megumi refused to hold satoru’s hand so he refused to be in the picture – sometimes you wonder who is the older out of the two). warmth takes over your entire being once again, and you allow yourself to recollect the memories of how the last pieces of your family all came together.

2 years ago

“i am going to meet with that kid fushiguro was talking about before he, you know,” and satoru dramatically slashed his neck with his finger, poking his tongue out, imitating a dead face. nanako and mimiko laughed from the opposite side of the table while you kicked him on the shin.

“please, satoru, i didn’t sign up to babysit three kids. eat your breakfast, i need to get girls to pre-school, we can talk about it once i’m back.”

“what if i drive you? and then we can go grab kikufuku from the new place that opened near shinjuku station, i heard it’s really good.”

“satoru, it’s 7am in the morning. unlike you, i am a normal human being who cannot possibly consume that much sugar this early. and,” you lean in closer and whisper so the girls cannot hear, “please don’t say stuff like this in front of the twins, they will think it’s normal to be asking for dessert at this ungodly hour.”

satoru thinks it’s adorable, how you huff and puff at the girls like a mother hen. ever since the girls started living with suguru, you made it your mission to come over at least once a week to make sure they have everything they need – and nanako and mimiko, as they once confessed to geto, love your presence. after everything they’ve been through, the girls learned to recognize the intention behind people’s auras, and yours only gave them peace. and, unbeknownst to them at this tender age, they have craved peace for a very long time. so he bites his tongue and keeps the snarky remark he wanted to say, instead quietly whispering “sorry”, and you appreciate the gesture that may seem small to another, but speaks volume to yourself.

“fine. we will be leaving in,” you look at the watch, squinting and thinking about how much time you have left, “30 minutes, make sure you’re ready or we’re leaving without you.”

you let the twins finish their breakfast and rush both of them to brush their teeth before you prep their outfits. suguru was sent out on a mission for the whole week (you worry; satoru tells you that with how much you worry about everyone and everything, you’ll be grayer than him in couple of years) and asked you to stay with the girls until he returns. you won’t lie – you’ve grown attached to them within the short amount of time you’ve been helping taking care of them so you agreed to babysit in a millisecond.

you didn’t expect that a third child will be living with you all this week too.

“why don’t i get my outfit chosen for me?” you feel satoru before you can even hear him, the never-ending reach of his limitless tingling your senses, rushing the goosebumps up your spine (this is totally normal, right? friends make other friends feel like this, right?). and you wish he would only be the omniscient presence that makes your knees weak because as soon as he opens his mouth, you want to roll your eyes and smack the back of his head. you learned to treat him like a child, if he wanted to behave like one.

 “because mommy is busy and you’re old enough to do it on your own.”

satoru did not expect you to say that, sudden blush rushing to his face making his thoughts drift in a direction incredibly inappropriate for a friend. great. you’re so gross, satoru. he suddenly turned away and rushed out from the bedroom (if you had more time, you would’ve asked him what his deal was but alas, you were already running late). then he proceeded to stay quiet the whole morning: while you were getting nanako and mimiko dressed, while he was driving all of you to school, while you waved goodbye to the girls and made your way back to the car. the phrase kept running through his mind the whole time until you cleared your throat and looked at him with your brow raised.

“what’s gotten into you? you’ve been suspiciously quiet the whole morning. didn’t you want to talk about something?”

he forced all the wrong thoughts to stay hidden for now, patted them away like crows nibbling at the forbidden nerves of his sudden need. he cleared his throat and started driving away from the school, not knowing where he was taking the two of you yet.

“uh, yeah. i was telling you that i am going to meet with the fushiguro kid tomorrow.”

“okay… and?”

“and what?”

“what are you going to do?”

megumi fushiguro was discussed among you before, but no concrete decision was ever reached. what if the kid doesn’t even want to go with him? he won’t be able to drag him by force unless he wants to be accused of child abduction.

“i don’t know. if he does want to come with me, i have the resources to keep him out of whatever deal his father cooked up for him with the zen’in clan. but if he doesn’t… by the time he realizes what zen’ins are, and if he ever wants to leave, it’ll be too late,” satoru clicks his tongue at the mention of one of the three big families. it’s no secret gojo clan has not seen eye-to-eye with zen’ins for a long time now but for satoru, it’s personal.

“you know, if you decide to take him in, it’s not like one more child will really make a difference. you’ll just have to stop coming around and it’s like nothing changed,” the words come out of you with such levity, satoru sometimes thinks you don’t even realize that your presence alone can make a wilted flower spring back to life.

he can only laugh in response. you haven’t even met the kid and you already welcome him like it’s nothing to worry about. gojo always wanted to compare you to the sun, the stars or any other celestial being that shines so brightly, they illuminate every shadow in their reach. but as the time passed, he realized that he didn’t want you to be a sun, or a star – then he will have to share your light with everyone else. no, you’re a flame in the home’s fireplace, warm and inviting to anyone who’s welcomed into your humble abode but lost to everyone else.

“you say that now. let’s see what happens when i show up with two kids instead of one.”

present

the memory makes you chuckle. sometimes you wonder if he knew megumi had a sister because when he did show up with two kids instead of a promised one, you swore he looked as smug as ever.

as the time went on, spreading yourself thin between going to university (you said you wanted to finish your degree in case your career as a sorcerer doesn’t work out), helping out geto and gojo on their missions when they asked you, and helping take care of both suguru’s girls and fushiguro siblings was proving to be too much. so satoru, for all his seemingly unlimited resources, decided that buying a house and living all together will be better. you knew that it was easier to move a mountain than change gojo’s mind once it’s been set on something so you didn’t argue. to no one’s surprise, living together for all of you came as naturally as breathing. who said a family cannot be three barely functioning not-even-yet adults and their four adopted children?

the familiar silhouette of home comes into view, and you sigh with relief. when the cab stops, you pay the driver, grabbing your things and rushing our the car. it’s the moments like this you envy satoru’s teleportation ability though you will never admit it to him out loud, lest you inflate his ego even more. you’re barely able to step away from the gates when the front door to the house swings open and you see the person you were just thinking about poking his head out.

“need a hand?”

gojo is as cheerful as ever, and you cannot help but smile back, lips stretching in that tired way he finds almost domestic, and he feels something prick inside him. not now. you want to say something back, but you’re interrupted by the sound of little footsteps running past satoru, towards you.

“you’re back, you’re back!” nanako and mimiko are the first rushing to greet you, with tsumiki hot on their tail. you see megumi standing in the doorframe trying to pat away satoru’s hand resting on top of his head as he comes out to greet you as well.

“oh my god, ‘toru, what are they still doing up, it’s past 12am!” you redirect your attention to the kids instead. “what are you little rascals still doing up, uh? just because you don’t have school tomorrow doesn’t mean you don’t have a sleeping schedule anymore!”

“gojo-san and geto-san said we can stay up today!”

“3 years later and you’re still the only one they call by your first name,” you hear suguru before you can see him: he is standing on the opposite side of megumi, letting the kid hide behind his leg to get away from gojo’s assault on his hair. you smile at them and decide there is no point of staying mad at them any longer.

the men help you to bring your bags inside, and you collapse on the couch as soon as you pass the threshold of your home.

“how was your trip?” megumi asks as he slowly crawls to sit on your right side. out of all the kids, megumi was the hardest to read – for a child his age, he was overly perceptive and did feel almost like an adult at times. what did satoru call him? a child-man, that’s right.

“it was good, ‘gumi. ‘m just tired now. how was your weekend? i saw someone took you to disneyworld when i was asking for it the whole time,” you said, raising your voice at the later part of the sentence so it can reach gojo and geto’s ears from where they were in the kitchen. you could only hear a light chuckle back.

“it was so fun! mimiko was scared of the ride we went on, but i was so brave!” nanako’s eyes twinkled with so much joy, you really wish you witnessed the moment yourself. satoru was right all those years ago, you were a mother hen back then, you’re a mother hen now.

“no, i wasn’t! tsumiki was scared more!”

“why are you lying? no, i wasn’t!”

 “ay, ay! i’m sure all of you were equally brave. now, can you tell me why you stayed up this late?” you finally sit everyone down, satoru and suguru joining you with freshly brewed tea, and think this is the most at peace you’ve ever felt.

“we were waiting for you…” tsumiki shyly confesses on behalf of everyone.

“oh,” your vision gets blurry and you feel pearly beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes before quickly blinking them away.

“ughhh, you cute little puppies, i just want to eat you up,” you say before anyone can question your tears and pull all of the kids into a bear hug. time is late, however, so you make a quick work of tucking everyone into bed now that they’ve seen you. you say your goodnights and leave their rooms.

“do we not get a hug now?” satoru asks, wearing his signature smirk, and you want to clap back with a retort of your own, chastise them for letting the kids eat cake for dinner and stay up past midnight, or remind them that they are not seven years old anymore; but the car trip and the memories you revisited bring out something nostalgic in you making you slowly walk up to satoru and hug him instead. he is taken aback at first but gojo has always been good at recovering from momentary stupor so he’s pulling you back into a hug in no time.

“you two are rude,” comes from suguru’s side and as soon as you’re untangling yourself from gojo, you’re walking up to the raven-haired sorcerer to do the same.

“i missed you two idiots.”

“we missed you too.”

the silence stretches across the room but it’s comforting and inviting, like an old friend who hasn’t visited in a while, enveloping the three of you in its embrace. you look at the clock on the wall, showing you 1:05am, and suddenly your whole body feels heavy.

“sorry guys, i think the trip is finally showing its signs… i am so tired, don’t even have energy to take a shower,” you say and groan in disgust. you hate going to bed without washing the grime of the day off your body but the fatigue is clinging onto your skin like humid air. “i’m going to bed now, see you guys tomorrow.”

“good night.”

“sleep well.”

and if you paid closer attention, you would’ve noticed the deep seated longing in the men’s gazes, the one that you sometimes have to hide from them too; you would’ve noticed how suguru’s hand is following yours long after you’re out of their sight, and how satoru’s tongue darted out to wet his lips when you were pressed against him, even if for a second; you would’ve noticed that the feelings you’ve been trying to push deep down for your two best friends are reflected all the same somewhere in the constellation of their eyes.

next morning you wake up as a result of someone laughing your name and jumping on your bed. sunlight is peaking through the curtains, making sun bunnies dance on the walls of your room and kiss your cheeks. you try to open your eyes but your head feels heavy like you’ve just fallen asleep and you struggle to make out your surroundings – feeling disoriented first thing in the morning is definitely your least favorite thing. you groan softly and finally force yourself to lift your eyelids – as you do so, you’re met with two little girls using your bed as a make-shift trampoline.

“wake up! wake up! gojo-san and geto-san told us we will be leaving to go to the sea in an hour!” and they swiftly left, just as quickly as they had come in, leaving you to stare up at the ceiling in confusion.

“uh?”

once the words really settled in, you’re getting up from the bed in record time and putting on the first clothes you lay your eyes on. you find the strongest duo already up and ready. all of the kids, worryingly, also look like they are ready to leave the house, and there are bags near the door with both satoru and suguru looking too smug not to be suspicious about it.

“what is going on here?” you ask from the doorway that connects the hallway leading to your rooms to the kitchen. “why am i hearing that we’re going to the sea, and why are you dressed like this?”

“well,” satoru starts, “because we are going to the sea so we’re wearing appropriate clothing. you’re the only one who’s still not dressed.

you close your eyes and massage the bridge of your nose. mentally you douse whatever feelings you were having for these idiots yesterday.

“why am i hearing about this only now?”

“surprise?..”

“i know it’s last minute, but satoru made a promise to drive so you can relax in the car while we’re on the way there. just get ready and we can leave right after,” suguru says from his place on the couch, and you cannot help but sigh deeply and return to your room to shower and quickly pack.

when you’re out of earshot, geto shoots gojo a look.

“what are you planning, satoru?”

“why would i be planning anything? she’s been really stressed recently, and then the higher ups have the audacity to send her away for a whole weekend and give you a mission that took your whole sunday at the same time she was sent away. i was overworked the week before that. sometimes it feels like they are doing this on purpose. so maybe we should all disappear for a couple of days with no way of contacting us, maybe they’ll stop pestering us like we’re the only sorcerers available.”

“very mature of you, ‘toru.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

the two of them finish packing the last of the food that gojo bought in the morning while waiting for you. reserving a spot this late in one of the most popular vacation spots in japan was hard, but nothing is impossible when you’re satoru gojo.

you’re ready in record time, and the kids are all yelling and arguing about who is going to sit where. you need to intervene and say you will be sitting in the back of suv with nanako and mimiko, while mugumi and tsumiki agreed to sit in the middle row; suguru is riding shotgun and satoru has agreed to be your driver for the ride. unsurprisingly, not even an hour out of the city, the car is filled with snoring as the kids fell asleep shortly after you started driving. you feel yourself getting drowsy, closing your eyes and swearing you will only sleep for a moment. however, the next time you open them, you’re informed by suguru that all of you are already halfway through the trip.

“oh my god, i can’t believe i slept for that long,” you mumble through a voice heavy with drowsiness. “i think it’s best if we stop somewhere now, i’ll wake the kids up so they can eat quickly and pee. i suggest we all do it.”

“yeah, i think it would be best, i don’t know if we will have the opportunity to stop any time soon,” satoru agrees with you, and the drive continues for 20 more minutes until you’re stopping at the gas station. you gently wake the kids up and let them know that they need to have a snack and go to the restroom (time is 11:20am and they should be able to fall asleep again with no issues after that).

“how much longer do you think we have to drive?” you ask satoru as he is refilling the gas tank. you’re watching suguru watch the kids where they are running around nearby.

“maybe 2.5-3 hours, depending on the traffic.”

“did something happen during the weekend?”

“no, why would you ask?”

“hm…” you quickly hum, “this is all too sudden for it to be spontaneous.”

“oh, common, don’t be like that. i just think the little family of ours needs a mini vacation, that is all.”

as soon as the words leave his mouth, gojo can feel the blush creeping up all the way to his ears and he clears his throat, walking away. you don’t know what makes you giggle more – the way he admits that whatever it is you have, he also sees it as a family, or the way the confession makes him feel embarrassed. you observe him preparing to get into the driver’s seat – sometimes you wonder what is happening in that handsome head of his. you glance at suguru and wonder if he would have a better guess.

gojo lets you know that you’re good to depart again. the second part of the trip is as chaotic as you would imagine it go and you give up on trying to make kids to go back to sleep. instead, you’re breaking up the fights between almost everyone: nanako and mimiko argue about their friendship bracelets across from you; you keep having to remind gojo that he is indeed an adult in this situation while he wants to continue arguing with megumi; and suguru somehow breaks the AC so the last 30 minutes of the drive everyone is suffering in silence.

once you finally pull up to the little vacation house gojo somehow procured at the last moment, you’re already feeling at your limit: you need the sun and to dive into warm water before you start losing your hair.

geto helps you with the bags while gojo unloads everything into the kitchen – you’re not sure how long you’re staying here for but the amount of food they brought will last you a nuclear winter. the children are excited about their rooms, and you must keep reminding them to be careful and to not run into any corners despite their enthusiasm. you help them unpack and choose outfits for the day – it’s been decided in the car that you will be going to the beach as soon as you’re settled.

everyone is ready in half an hour – you helped the girls get into their swimming suits, while megumi insisted he can do it himself (you suggested geto or gojo help him, but he closed the door in their faces and didn’t come out until he was done). both men were already waiting by the door with the picnic bags and beach essentials – you had to admit they looked a little too good, making a knot twist in your stomach.

satoru was dressed in a simple white button up that matched his hair and a pair of navy swim trunks. maybe he was right, this trip was long overdue for all three of you, as gojo looked more relaxed and at peace than you’ve seen him in a while. his lips were stretch into a lazy smile and his eyes, unobstructed by the glasses or a blindfold, had a glint of mischief that reminded you of a 16 year-old boy you met all those years ago. he tried his best to style his white unruly hair but the surrounding humidity only made it frizzier.

gojo makes it seem almost effortless, with how good he looks, and maybe part of it is true – despite never admitting it out loud, you know he won the genetic lottery when it came to his appearance. but you also know that satoru has an unrelenting skin care routine (because you buy your products together); that he asks what you think about his outfits even though you keep repeating you should be the last person he asks for fashion advice (don’t worry about it, princess, your opinion is the only one that matters anyways and you hate how your heart clenches at these words); and that he spends 45 minutes taking his showers. but what gojo doesn’t know is that you adore him the most first thing in the morning – eyes so sleepy he can barely keep them open, voice gruff and low asking what’s for breakfast, wearing his sleeping gray sweatpants and nothing else. and he will never know lest you want to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to build between the three of you.

you moved your eyes away from gojo to where suguru was leaning on the door. he was wearing a blue hawaiian shirt with the three top buttons popped off, paired with simple black swimming shorts. his hair was put into a perfect manbun, however, unrelenting bangs always make themselves known untangled from the rest of his locks. you noticed it back when you were teenagers and got used to carrying bobby pins for him – he somehow always leaves them at home (you will never admit but you love the fact that he always forgets them – it gives you another reason to run your fingers through his hair) – and this habit stayed with you all the way into adulthood. while satoru was handsome in a regal way, suguru was all sharp edges that made him look almost dangerous – pronounced jaw, pointy nose, almost cat-like eyes; the kind of beauty that always makes you weak in the knees.

“see something you like?” satoru’s voice takes you out of your daydream and, shamefully, you realize you’ve been standing in the corridor doorway, gawking at them like it’s your first time seeing their faces. you only groan in response and roll your eyes, trying to hide the blush that adores your neck and flushes your cheeks red.

“if i saw something i like, i would’ve told you,” and you stick your tongue out. liar.

“are you feeling well? you look a little red, maybe you got a fever?” comes from suguru’s side now as he tries to reach for your forehead but you swat his hand away.

“ugh, i hate both of you.” liar. they only laugh when you rush past them, megumi and nanako on either side of you holding your hands while tsumiki sits on satoru’s shoulders and mimiko takes her rightful place on suguru’s back.

“whatever you say, sweetheart.”

the way to the beach is short and sweet, your attention is fully dedicated to megumi and nanako as they re-tell you the stories from their weekend. ‘gumi won a plushy and gave it to mimiko because she asked him to play in the first place, and tsumiki, apparently, had the highest score in the game where you punch a bag to see how strong you are. nanako says that helping satoru bake the cheesecake on sunday was her favorite part of the weekend, and you make a mental note to let her help you the next time you do it.

from behind you, geto and gojo observe your interactions with the kids, each of them in their own thoughts, yet both mulling over the same thing – you, letting tsumiki and mimiko chat between themselves.

neither of them thought you would become a constant in their lives when they decided to take in the kids – after all, none of you were in a relationship, despite their feelings for you, and you had no obligations to be giving them so much of your time. but as the time went on, all three of you fell into a comfortable routine that was both a blessing and a curse – they couldn’t confess that the boyish crush they had on you in your teenage years not only endured but blossomed into something so much more. that something kept growing inside their ribcages, weaving and building a home there, rooting itself so deep, they forgot what life was like before you offered them your light.

satoru and suguru only discussed this once between each other. the unspoken feelings they had not only for you but also for each other made already complex situation even more complicated. the fear of damaging the carefully built dynamic between the three of you was overwhelming - so overwhelming in fact, both agreed to never speak of this again. pandora’s box was sealed, and only you behold the power to open it. the strongest duo knows why this little box of wonders needs to be locked far away from them - however, it’s moments like this, when megumi asks to be carried in your hands (even though he’s getting too big for that) while nanako clenches your hand harder and you indulge both of them without a moment’s delay, that make them wish you knew: knew how much suguru adores the little tilt to your head when you’re confused about something, knew how much satoru loves smoothing out the wrinkles on your head when you’re deep in the thought, knew how both of them yearn for your laugh after a long day.

the cute white bikini you’re wearing is definitely not helping the ever-running thoughts two men are trying so hard to push down. it’s not the first time the absolute indecency of their desire is sparked by the slight bounce of your tits and the swing of your hips. memories of countless times they had to take an extra shower in the morning because you would show up in the kitchen in one of their shirts, without a bra, nipples hard and visible through a thin fabric, should make them feel embarrassed, yet the shame never comes. when did the longing for you start feeling so right?

as the years progressed, this dance the three of you did around each other became familiar, and none of you dared to switch the melody.

sometimes you wish you were brave enough to do it.

“look, look, we’re finally here!” mimiko yells from suguru’s back and then instructs him to put her down. nanako lets go of your hand as tsumiki’s climbing down satoru’s shoulders, and three girls run away towards the sea.

“be careful! you still need to put your sunscreen, don’t run away too far!” you move your attention to the little boy you released from your hold as you entered the beach, “‘gumi, you’re not going with them?”

you wiggle his arm back and forth (his hand is so tight in yours, gripping now harder than before) but he refuses to look at you so you don’t push.

“did you forget he doesn’t know how to swim?” satoru says from behind you, and you shoot him a look. god, was he purposefully trying to rile megumi? fushiguro only digs his fingers further into your hand, and you honestly want to bite satoru’s head off.

“that’s okay, baby, i’m sure your dad needed support of his whole clan when he was trying to learn how to swim.”

“he is not my dad.”

your brain goes blank for a second, and you hope satoru did not hear what you just said (he did; but he thinks he’ll spare you the further embarrassment; he also doesn’t want to admit that it makes his stomach turn in a way he wish it wouldn’t).

“you’re right, dummy like him could never be your dad.”

you find the spot not too far from where the girls are playing, and you help geto and gojo set up the blankets and umbrellas. while they are making sure none of it flies away with the first gust of the wind, you search for the sunscreen in your bag.

“girls! come here, we need to put sunscreen on you!”

you hear the tatter of 6 feet rushing towards you, trying to get first in line so they can all get back to playing in the water. you hand satoru and suguru two other tubes you brought.

“help me to put this on them. i think if we don’t do it in the next minute, they will actually explode,” you say, smiling at how impatient tsumiki is being in front of you as she keeps bouncing on her legs. before you start on the sunscreen, you turn her so her back is facing you and let her hair out of the ponytail as you try to retie it. she winces a bit and lets out a small ouch.

“’m sorry baby, didn’t meant to hurt you, you okay?” you ask as you rub on the roots of her hair.

“yeah, i’m okay!” she exclaims loudly, making you giggle. once her bun is all set in place, you quickly put the sunscreen on her whole body, finishing with the face, and boop her nose. tsumiki scrunches it in her adorable way, and you feel your heart swell with joy and love.

once the girls run off again, suguru comes up to you with the tube of sunscreen in hands.

“don’t you think you need a little help too?”

the smile adorning his face is so sweet, he doesn’t realize the summersaults it’s making your heart to do. and when you think about those hands on your shoulders, on your back, going lower where you want them most, you realize you actually might be burning up. but you can’t come up with an excuse fast enough not to let him do it so, without any words lest you’ll be embarrassing yourself, you just turn around and present him your back.

geto start slowly with your shoulders, squeezing the tube and spreading the sunscreen on your soft skin. you swear you can hear him sharply inhale, and your heart involuntarily skips a beat. you let yourself wonder, just for a second, how these hands would feel on the parts of your body where you want them most, if geto would be as gentle squeezing your breasts and tugging at your nipples. and when his hands start travelling lower, caressing the space between your shoulder blades and running his fingers down your spine, you wonder if his long digits would reach the spot inside your gummy walls that you’re unable to find yourself. you absolutely lose yourself to the indecent thoughts when he starts massaging the sunscreen into your lower back. that man, you think, if only he knew what he was doing. it takes all of your willpower to prevent yourself from moaning out loud and not tremble at his mere touch. you want to lean back and tilt your head to the side so geto can leave a trail of wet kisses on the side of your neck, following the curve of it to your jaw, and capture your lips in a way that only lovers can.

you can feel your skin grow hot and your white bikini better not show how embarrassingly wet you got from your best friend’s touch. you’re so sick, you think to yourself and before it becomes any worse, you’re untangling yourself from suguru’s arms and call out for megumi.

“i… uh… will go swim with him, don’t want him to get bored,” you breathlessly whisper as if too afraid to speak any louder, and call out to the boy.

“‘gumi, common! grab your floaties and we’ll go play a little further away from the girls,” you wait for him to grab his stuff, and you notice one of his rare smiles – he never hid the fact that you were his favorite out of three adults, and he always feels a little smug when your undivided attention is on him. satoru shoots him a knowing look which megumi successfully ignores, clinging to you.

you pass the girls as you show them the direction you’re taking megumi in and they all say “okay!” at the same time like it’s rehearsed. mimiko, nanako and tsumiki are in a competition to see who can gather the most seashells and are left under the attentive gaze of gojo and geto. you help megumi put his floaties on and gather him into your arms so you can walk a little deeper: once you’re satisfied with the distance, you try to let him go but he is attached to you like a baby koala.

“common ‘gumi, i promise i won’t let you go, okay? i’ll be right here in case you need help, and i’ll be also holding onto you the whole time.”

fushiguro only violently shakes his head, not wanting to be in the water by himself. you wonder where this fear comes from and think you’ll have to revisit it later. you don’t push any further, and hug him closer, running a smoothing hand on his back while he puts his head on your shoulder. you squat a little to help him get adjusted to the temperature, and he shrieks from the sudden rush of water above his waist while hugging you tighter, almost choking you. laughter bubbles in your throat but you don’t want to make megumi feel worse than he already does so you try your best not to let it out.

“hey, baby, it’s okay. i am holding you, yeah?” and as you say that, you try to push him away from you one more time, to let him experience the ocean by himself but he only tightens his hold as a sign he is not moving away. so you resign to gently swaying with him in the water, letting the salty waves wash around you. you can feel the sunlight dancing on your skin, warm breeze carrying all your worries away, if just for a moment, and you close your eyes allowing yourself to take all of it in. megumi’s head is pleasantly heavy on your shoulder, and you walk little bit further away from the beach until you bump into someone.

“oh, i am so sorry!” you instantly apologize and turn around. what you don’t expect is to be met with the pair of the most beautiful green eyes you see (your mind involuntarily goes to gojo and how even these emerald eyes pale to comparison to the infinity carried by his gaze). you think if your heart didn’t belong to the two most annoying human beings you’ve ever had a pleasure of encountering, you would’ve fallen head over hills right here, right now.

“please, no need to apologize.”

surprise number two: this stranger is not only handsome, but also has a voice that makes you want to do whatever he asks you to, as long as he keeps talking to you. and again, you think how unfortunate of you to fall in love with two people you can’t have when men like this walk around for free.

he smiles when his attention falls to megumi - little boy appears not to be happy with this encounter. who does this man thinks he is? maybe megumi didn’t want to learn how to swim, it doesn’t mean that he is willing to share you when he just got you away from two men on the beach (he is not old enough to rationalize that what he is feeling is jealousy; you never noticed but, geto and gojo excluded, he never liked how other men talk to you in the first place).

a handsome stranger doesn’t seem taken aback by the attitude from megumi, and for a seven-year-old, your little boy has a mean death stare.

“he is very cute, what is his name?”

“he’s megumi,” you give him your name as well and extend the arm for introduction. before a man can even respond, megumi is tugging your arm away and whines, speaking loud enough for satoru and suguru to hear, who, unbeknownst to you, have been watching the interaction this whole time (spoiler – they are not very happy about it but proud of the kid, truly an oscar-worthy performance).

“mommy, i want to learn how to swim now!”

you think you heard him wrong – he has never called you this before. if it happened any other time, you think you would’ve cried tears of happiness. now it only makes you feel stupor. how does he even know to call you mommy in this situation? megumi has always been the most well-behaved one out of all four kids, the disbelief at his attitude is written all over your face. what is he playing at?

“oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t realize he was your kid,” the man says but hurries to add, “i adore children though; i work at a pre-school. hi megumi, my name is rei.”

the boy looks at the outstretched hand the man offered like it personally offended him. all of a sudden, he points to the beach where satoru and suguru seat and announces, yet again loud enough for them to hear.

“my daddies are just right there!”

what happened to “he’s not my dad?” you think in panic.

you’re not sure if gojo and geto can hear the full conversation, but they wave back at you anyways. rei moves his gaze from you to megumi to two men on the beach, trying to decide if he should believe it or not. you, on the other hand, are speechless and currently wishing someone would be kind enough to curse you right now, or for the ground to split and swallow you whole with how hot and embarrassed you feel. megumi is so grounded today. you can feel the inner temperature rise to the inappropriate levels, feeling like a kettle that is about to overheat – you don’t wait for rei’s response while saying awkward “bye, nice meeting you!” and rushing away.

“welcome back, mommy,” satoru teases when you settle back at your spot. megumi is sitting on the opposite side of you, munching on the watermelon like he didn’t just make an absolute fool out of you in front of a random man. you try your best to ignore satoru, but his comment only makes you groan, sound almost bordering a sob.

“please, for the love of everything holy, don’t say another word. i bet it was you who put this idea into his head.”

“you know as well as we do that you can’t make megumi do anything he doesn’t want to,” gojo responds with the knowing smirk, and you only sink into yourself further. your face is burning up, and now you think it’s not because megumi’s whole afternoon mission was apparently to embarrass you in front of a stranger but because of what he said. the shock of the moment is finally dissipating, instead giving the space to indescribable tenderness. you will have to cry about it later on your own so to save yourself further shame, you hide your face behind your hat and lay down, contemplating how this one simple word somehow turned all of your insides upside down.

what you fail to notice is the proud smile satoru shoots to megumi, mouthing “good job” and suguru passing him his favorite candy knowing he’s not allowed to eat it before dinner.

you feel absolutely drained. after the incident with megumi, you stayed in the same position until the kids started complaining that they were hungry. the sun is getting low, painting the skies ochre and pink, giving everyone its glowing kiss. you dare to peek at satoru and suguru, and they looked almost ethereal – sunshine dancing on satoru’s white eyelashes as he dries tsumiki with a towel and nodding enthusiastically at the collection of shells she is showing him, while suguru tries to untie nanako’s wet hair so he can wrap a towel around it. mimiko slowly drags her legs towards you, poor girl absolutely exhausted, and as soon as you open your arms to embrace her with a towel of her own, she plops against you and almost momentarily falls asleep.

suguru offers to carry her home, but you wave him off, asking to grab megumi’s hand instead.

“i am not cooking once we get home, we better buy food now or we can drive into the city.”

“ugh, i don’t think i have the strength to drive,” satoru whines like he is the youngest out of the bunch. “let’s just buy something here, it smells pretty good.”

suguru only hums in agreement, listening to nanako and tsumiki argue about who got the most shells (both fail to count their shells correctly), and with that, your dinner plans are decided with satoru ordering your food from the stall nearby.

“what do we say when someone gets you food?”

“thank you, gojo-san!” three little voices echo each other, and you’re surprised even megumi joined in. the way back home is quick as you’re standing in front of your door in no time.

“oh my god, my legs are killing me,” you complain as you pass the threshold of the house. mimiko has been sleeping in your arms the whole way back, and you don’t know if you should wake her up and ask her to eat, or if you should just let her sleep. you can still smell the ocean on her skin, and you decide it’s best for her hygiene and your peace of mind that she is clean before she goes to bed too so with a heavy heart, you’re gently shaking her awake once you sit down on the couch.

“hey sweetie, we’re home. let’s eat, bathe and then i’ll put you back to bed, yeah?” her eyes are unfocused as she opens them, and she’s letting out a long yawn before slowly nodding her head and getting up.

“okay, everyone, go wash your hands, dinner will be ready soon,” suguru says from where he already stands in the kitchen, and all four pairs of legs excitedly hurry away.

“i hope the adventure today is enough to put them all to sleep right away,” you wistfully say.

“with their tummies full, i’m sure they will pass out in no time,” suguru says back while satoru circles around him to grab the plates from the overhead cupboards. you want to get up and help but looking at them like this, all domestic and familiar, the side of the strongest sorcerers only you get to see, makes you stall for a second to appreciate this moment for a little longer. the dull ache in your chest starts throbbing again as if someone’s picking at the rough edges that never seem to fully heal, and you wonder if you could have it all if you were a little more selfish. you shake your head banishing all unnecessary thoughts from your head.

the dinner is eaten quickly, everyone so hungry, you barely exchange any words. you can see the children are struggling to keep their eyes open, tsumiki almost falling face first into the plate, so you make a quick work of their unfinished dinner and hurry them into a bathtub. megumi insists he is old enough to take a bath separately from the girls so you ask either satoru or suguru to help him (megumi makes it known who he prefers by grabbing suguru’s hand and dragging him to the second bathroom). bath time is also surprisingly quiet, low energy in the room being an indicator of just how exhausted everyone is.

with the kids finally tucked into bed (megumi apologized for misbehaving, and you think about how far you’ve come with the boy who wouldn’t utter a full sentence to you for the first 6 months), you grab the beer from the fridge and make your way onto the patio where satoru and suguru are already engaged in conversation.

they turn their heads toward you once you step outside and offer you the space between them which you gladly take. you can see suguru is nursing his own beer, while satoru opted out for a bottle of virgin mojito.

“did neither of you really ask megumi to call me “mommy” today?” you wonder out loud as you’re looking out into the horizon, where the last rays of sun melt into the ocean, clearing the canvas for the stars to spark to life.

“nah, you know how stubborn that kid is,” satoru drawls as he takes another sip of the drink; you scrunch your nose just imagining how sweet that concoction is but smile, nonetheless. “plus, it was nice being called a dad.”

both you and suguru turn to look at him, but he stubbornly keeps staring forward. you snort, seeing geto’s smile in your peripheral vision, but there is no malice behind your action. both you and suguru always knew that gojo cared in the same capacity as the two of you for the kids, he was just a little more stubborn about admitting it. you can see it in the way he handles them after they wake up from nightmares (because he knows the same thing haunts him), how he packs them lunches to school when neither you or suguru are able to do it (i know i am not as great of a cook as those two but it’s better than buying stuff from the store), how he allows them to have sweets from his secret stash when everyone else (even you and geto) are not permitted to even think about it. the two of you always knew how much he cared – satoru just needed a little push to say it out loud.

you’re about to say something witty but suguru speaks up first.

“would you have continued flirting with that man if it wasn’t for megumi?”

“flirting? i wasn’t flirting with him!”

“whatever, talking,” geto waves a hand at you like it’s all unimportant details. “would you?”

the air suddenly feels charged with electricity, years of longing and yearning threaten to rip everything at the seams. you tried so hard to move past them, move past your silly little crush, failing miserably. not that dating other people was an option for you anyways – you are sure anyone, upon hearing that you take care of four small children at only age 21, will run away in the opposite direction. it’s a good thing it didn’t matter to you either way – the kids became an integral part of your life, and you would not give them up for anything. but sometimes, just sometimes, when the loneliness creeps into the parts of your bones that have no space for it, when the heart becomes a little too big for your own chest trying to escape through rushed beats, when you tremble from how longing encompasses your whole being, you wonder how it would feel if romantic love was made for you too.

you tilt your head to look at suguru, trying to find something in his face. he doesn’t know why he asked that question – maybe it’s the sun rush of the day, the good mood he’s been in recently or how that man looked at your body – but it felt right. and he knows he’s being selfish without discussing it with satoru beforehand, but he’s so tired of hiding, so tired of pretending like he doesn’t dream of waking up next to your warm bodies, so tired of thinking about what ifs and could haves - asking that question only felt right.

“no, i don’t think i would’ve returned his sentiment,” you simply state and hope that they would leave it at that. you know they never do.

“why?” it’s satoru’s turn in this interrogation, and he looks at you in a way that makes your pulse pick up its pace.

“because…” you don’t know what you’re supposed to say. because you’re in love with your best friends? have been since you were 16 years old? you’ve been carrying the weight of unrequited love for so long now, you think you’re afraid what will happen to the space it occupies if you confess. you hope you know them enough to realize they will not make fun of you for your confession, at most making lighthearted jokes about how they always knew you were not immune to their charms, but your palms are getting sweaty just anticipating their reaction.

“because?” satoru nudges you again, and you dare to steal a glance into his baby blues. satoru’s eyes have been compared to the most prized sapphires, an ocean that will never be fully explored, the skies that are bigger than life itself – all the metaphors that describe him to the outside world perfectly. however for you, his eyes are the color of blueberries that he painstakingly picks out of tsumiki’s desserts and gives to megumi; they are the color of his favorite shirt that is more gray now than blue with how much he washed it but refuses to throw away; it’s the blue ribbons he picked out for nanako’s and mimiko’s hair for their first day of school. you look into his eyes and see a sparkle of something familiar, something you’ve seen in your eyes times and times before, staring back from the reflection in the mirror.

unexpectedly, you feel dizzy and don’t know if it’s the summer breeze that makes your head feel heavy, the alcohol swimming in your veins, or the present company, but you’re brought back to when you were all 16 and innocent, to the moment before the steady ground was violently ripped from right underneath your feet. you think about amanai and that she still loved and cared despite knowing how all of it would end for her. you think about haibara, and how he was full of promise and life and so, so much love, you almost feel sick again.

you’re quiet as you contemplate, and the men don’t interrupt your train of thoughts. memories flash before your eyes like snapshots of old cameras, making them wonder where you have gone off to.

but then you think about how it ended, for the both of your friends, in blood and violence and guilt, their life threads cut short before either of them knew what life even is. amanai and haibara didn’t get enough time to figure it all out: have they loved anyone the way you love satoru and suguru? would have they have had time to figure it out if it was a fair world?

you can feel your best friends’ body heat wrap around you, encapsulating you in their scent and presence, and you decide you’d like to stay like this forever. you think about everyone who didn’t get to spend another hour with someone they love, and you realize you’d regret it your whole life if something happens and they didn’t know how they make you feel. and with the life you lead, something can happen at any moment. you steady your hands and take a deep breath, reading yourself. now or never.

“because i am in love with you two, and i have been since we were 16.”

you close your eyes, waiting for the laugh to come, for them to say oh, you little silly girl, to chastise you for falling for the only two people that will never be yours. you wait and wait but nothing comes. instead, you feel someone’s knuckles brushing lightly against yours and gasp, opening your eyes. what you didn’t expect to see is your two best friends looking at you as if they are seeing you for the first time, their lips stretch in smiles so wide, it looks like it’s supposed to hurt. and eyes, their eyes, say so much without them needing to say anything at all.

“so… what you’re saying is that we’ve been blue balling each other since we were 16?”

“ohmygodsatorupleasestop,” words leave your mouth all jumbled up, you’re sure they didn’t understand what you said. gojo might be a little crude but the meaning behind his childish metaphor is not lost on you – three of you have been oblivious to each other’s feelings for five years now, and a pang of regret shoots through you. how different would everything be if you were brave enough to confess all those years ago?

“have both of you really known since you were 16?”

“yes.”

“yes.”

both of them say it with such conviction, you feel yourself get lightheaded. you don’t want to cry but tears are pooling in your eyes involuntarily, and you sniff a little into satoru’s shoulder.

“aw, why are you crying? i thought we all finally agreed to be happy,” suguru coos at you from the side. the warmth of your hand in his still feels unreal – like it’s someone else’s arm attached to him, and he‘s just observing as a passer-by. he brushes your knuckles with the pads of his fingers and it feels right, how your digits perfectly intervene with his and how your head fits just right into the crook of satoru’s neck, and how your lips look so perfectly kissable and shiny right now. but he doesn’t want to rush the fragility of the moment, so he only squeezes your hand tighter.

“because we could’ve had this all this time… if we were just a little braver.”

“don’t you think we are already brave enough, all the time?” satoru asks this time. “maybe it’s okay for us to be a little cowardly, even if it’s not entirely good for us. we have next memory to look forward to anyways.” gojo lifts your head and looks into your teary eyes – you’re so beautiful, it almost hurts. he let his daydreams to be full of you and your lips and your touch, that it takes everything in him not to cross the distance in a searing kiss. but he knows it’s not the right moment, so he just swipes your tears away and kisses you on the forehead. behind you, you can feel suguru’s lips gently touch your exposed shoulder.

and just like that, all worries dissipate like sand through the cracks between fingers. what is the point of worrying about the past when you have future full of love in front of you? you don’t know what tomorrow holds for three of you with your souls now bare for each other, but you have the time to discover it together. for now, you’re content with this moment, salty ocean breeze dancing on your skin, the warmth of suguru’s palm in yours and satoru’s shoulder lulling you to sleep, and you think that maybe you’ve always meant to end up here, between them.

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

[luviestarz]

choi beomgyu fic recs!

✿ a night to remember — choi beomgyu - @jeontaeil-archived (beomgyu takes you out on a lovely date to his old workplace and after hours of having fun, neither of you are quite satisfied. too impatient to wait till you get back home, or to his car in the least, you don’t think twice before getting down and dirty right then and there. at the end of the day, how many people can proudly admit that they’ve fucked in a trampoline park?)

✿ airport crush | choi beomgyu NSFW - @boba-beom (while waiting 4 hours for your next flight, you see a cute guy at the airport and decide to kill some time.)

✿ a star called you | c.bg - @scintillasofbeomgyu (yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show “dear sputnik”, where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don’t listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they’ve silently had a crush on for the past four years.)

✿ nap of a star - @blue-jisungs (you’re taking a nap on your friend’s lap)

✿ sk8ter boi -> c.b - @gyusrose (you never thought in a million years to be attracted to a boy like beomgyu. His baggy clothes, scrappy shoes, long hair just wasn’t a click with your elegant dresses, tight skirts, ballet dancer- self , but somehow he managed to steal your attention.)

✿  stoner!bestfriend!beomgyu x fem!reader - @universecorp (as much as beomgyu tries to deny falling in love with you, even after he claimed you saved him from believing his whole purpose of life was to be bad luck, his heart cannot tell a lie.)

✿ honeymoon - @beomsight (thoughts about how you and bf!beomgyu are in that honeymoon phase where you’re constantly all over each other)

✿ who’s home? - @iknowyuu (reader's guardians unexpectedly come home in the middle of a cuddle session.)

✿ sweet. - @tyunlatte (beomgyu is whipped for the reader, that's it. that's the plot. just something short and sweet to make your hearts ache.)

✿ who’s that girl! - @h00nerz (after coming home from vacation to discover your boyfriend of over a year cheating on you, you find yourself to be in search of a new place to live. lucky for you, your friend’s cousin is moving across the state, leaving a room open that’s yours for the taking. the only problem? it means you would be staying with three guys.)

✿ a lost bet! - @heart2beom (you lose a bet to beomgyu and out of everything you'd think he'd ask of you -- money, to pour freezing water on yourself out in the snow, hell, you thought it'd be more likely for him to ask you to jump off a cliff and survive than telling you to take him out on a date.)

✿ strawberry kisses - @tyunlatte (when you accepted your boyfriend's sweet request to do his makeup, you weren't expecting the fiery turn that your little makeup session was going to take)

✿ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - @sungbeam (gamer/streamer!choi beomgyu x f!reader)

✿ call you later - @heart2beom (beomgyu swears women fall at his feet and he's in fact, single by choice—what better way to prove this to you than collecting the numbers of random people on the street?)

✿ forever only you. - @mazeinthemoon (when an old friend draws your attention away from your boyfriend, he can’t help but get jealous)

✿ [🐯] i got you - @qqtxt (the best parts of beomgyu's morning always involve you)

✿ white dress - @fairyyeo (i recommend reading this!!!! pls go read its so good)

✿ photobooth. - @ev3rm0re-q (even though you and beomgyu have been together for three months, you two have yet to share a kiss. on his day off, the two of you venture outside and come across a photo booth. perhaps a few pictures might finally motivate the both of you to take action.)

✿ tokyo - choi beomgyu - @beomie3 (the neon-lit towers which surround you are mighty bright. but in his eyes, you shine brightest. the adventures of two lovers in tokyo. ~coming of age film~ vibes.)

✿ strawberry chapstick | choi beomgyu - @lluringli

[demonic0angel]

More Jazz Forms (click for clarity)

TW: disturbing content, body horror

1) Head only Jazz

+ She is a head that walks on a bunch of mysterious tentacles. She’s inspired by a CN novel called “Let the Villain Go” in a chapter where a demon pops up and is described as a head that walks on tentacles (I may be delulu and remembered it wrong).

+ Around 900 feet tall. Most of the height is her tentacles, but her head is still around 100 feet tall.

+ Jason is a little obsessed with how huge she is. When he is away, she stays standing over his apartment like a creepy water storage tank. Nobody can see her except liminals and ghosts, so she remains undetected by Jason’s side.

+ She is generally peaceful and doesn’t move much. She is a relatively quiet being with no explicit ability to defend herself or attack. I imagine her to be very dreamy, despite her piercing stare.

2) Celestial Object Jazz

+ She is a quasi-stellar radio source, AKA a quasar :)

+ Impossibly large and infinite. She is so big that her gravitational pull is pulling apart a piece of the universe. Jason thinks that she’s beautiful, and he looks for her every night. He uses special technology to see her on Earth and when he can, he sneaks onto the Watchtower to look at her.

+ The mass of the black hole that she is made of is around 150 billion solar masses. She is located extremely far from the Milky Way within the largest galaxy of the universe. Since she is technically both the black hole and the gas that surrounds it, she won’t be fading for awhile.

+ Her origin is unknown in this idea (but is related to her siblings, who have all become celestial objects themselves). Her existence is extremely old and that is partially Clockwork’s fault.

3) Corrupted Jazz

+ She has become corrupted from years of ectoplasm, death, and generally instability. The tentacles that come from her stomach is actually just pieces of her soul that are trying to reach for others. She calls for help, but no one but Jason has been reaching out.

+ She cannot be around people for too long, or she causes insanity, violent mood swings, headaches, auditory and visual hallucinations, paranoia, nosebleeds, and general weakness, even if they cannot see her. Jason is somewhat resistant to her, but she heavily restrains herself so the effects of her existence won’t hurt him.

+ She tries to stay away from Jason, but bc she’s so clingy, she watches him from a distance. Her presence brings shadows and darkness, so he’s also been getting a reputation of scaring criminals to pissing themselves whenever he comes by.

+ Her body is covered in shadows, but she glows a little from the ectoplasm, so her silhouette can be vaguely seen.

4) Monochrome Jazz

+ Inspired by Lady Dimitrescu and Hachishakusama

+ She dresses in all black and her skin is pale as well. A hat and face mask cover all available skin on her face. Any skin below the neck is also covered.

+ She is around 9 feet tall. She stalks Jason whenever she can and always follows him around. She is extremely hostile and dangerous and does not hesitate to attack when she feels even the slightest bit threatened. She is also completely mute.

+ She is both a ghost and an urban legend, hence why she looks like that. Underneath her mask is a mouth of razor sharp teeth like a moray eel.

5) Wolf Jazz

+ Inspired by Jason’s Red Hood motif that is similar to Little Red Riding Hood. That’s also why I associate Jazz with so many canine themes :)

+ Black fur, several pairs of eyes, and two sets of deformed ears. I am debating whether or not she also has 3 pairs of legs.

+ She follows Jason around like a dog, but does not behave like a pet. As such, he can’t order her around unless she wants to listen to him. Thankfully, she likes cooperating with him and the two of them terrorize the criminals of Crime Alley.

+ She is around 5 feet tall when standing on all fours, but when she stands up on her hind legs, she is around 9 feet tall. She is very fluffy.

[joycieillustrations]

A snippet of dialogue I had tucked away for a future installment of my Corlys x Rhaenys series on AO3. It’s now no longer usable because it’s very clear Corlys and Rhaenys have not spoken explicitly about the Hull boys, but thought I’d share here as I still quite like it. I’m happy to see it shares some of the sentiment Rhaenys had in episode 4!

[Scene: Corlys and Rhaenys have seen Alyn for the first time. He is older than Laenor, born before Corlys’ marriage to Rhaenys, but he is obviously Corlys’ son. Rhaenys retreats to High Tide, Corlys finds her in the Hall of Nine.]

“I am no fool, husband; I knew very well that you had had your fair share of serving girls and pretty maids before you laid eyes upon me.”

He pauses behind her, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders.

“I knew it… possible that you had fathered bastards; ‘tis just I had thought them to be in Pentos or Lys or Leng, not on mine own doorstep. I did not think to fear walking the streets of my home, lest I see your face upon another woman’s babe. I did not think them to be so close in age to my son. I- I did not think they would look more like you than any child I could bear you.”

“Rhaenys–”

She turns to look at him as he takes her in his arms. Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

“How would you bear it if one day you looked upon a child that had my face and not yours?” “I am yours, but you are not mine; you have never been just mine.”

“I did not know ‘til now, Rhaenys. I swear it.”

“I believe you, Corlys; it does not take away the hurt. Would it not pain you, husband, if I had carried another man’s babe in my belly?”

His grip on her tightens.

“How would you feel looking into the eyes of a man who had had me? Knowing he had spilt his seed in me, that it had taken root and grown a child?” “All this, when our babes are lost, over and over.”

“I am sorry, Rhaenys; I will never have breath enough to tell you how sorry I am.”

“I cannot bear the iniquity of it.” “That I should be denied my life, my birthright, for the lack of a cock between my legs; that I should take comfort from my one remaining purpose - to know that I am the one to lay with you, to carry your babes in my belly, to suckle them at my breast - only to find that my son, the heir I have given you, is not your firstborn.” “You have denied me my one last comfort, husband; my one remaining joy.”

“You are my wife, you are my love. You are the woman I chose, the woman the Gods made for me.” “Gods be good, I did not even remember her name.”

“Should that comfort me? That you have spilt in so many women that you know not even their names?” “I could have died upon that birthing bed to give you that which you already had.”

“I had no heir ‘til you gave me a son, Rhaenys. I will have no heirs but the ones you birth me.”

She laughs, the sound bitter.

“If I had become Queen, if Laenor had been promised to the throne, who would House Velaryon have claimed in his place?”

“We will have more children, Rhaenys; we are both young, we have many years yet–”

“You have many years yet, husband.”

“You are seven-and-twenty, love; you are not so very old. Your grandmother bore babes ‘til the very winter of her childbearing years.”

“I have borne you no living child but Laenor; even if your seed takes root, there is no guarantee.”

There is a pause.

“I could have him sent away, love; have them both sent away-”

“I will not have a child punished for its birth; nor will I see a mother punished for loving her child, wanting the babe that grows within her.” “I have carried so many of your babes within me, Corlys, yet I only have the one to hold. I would hold them all if I could, will spend the rest of my days imagining their faces. There is nothing like the love a mother has for her son, husband: I cannot blame her for birthing the babe you put in her.” “You will see they are both well cared for, Corlys: I demand it as your wife and as your princess.”

[volturissideslut]

What if the Humans adopt a child just to see what’s so special about humans and why the Cullens like them so much, not knowing how troublesome a 8 year old can be?

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

strap in because this is going to be one hell of a ride (also I'm assuming asker meant volturi adopt a chaotic human child)

Aro, ever the curious one, cannot even fathom why dear Carlisle cares so much for these... creatures

And it's been like over 3000 years since he was human and he can't really remember much about living

It would also help if it would stop making Marcus be such a miserable slab of stone, and perhaps even Caius could do with a new toy

It just seemed like destiny when an 8 year old child strayed from the feeding group one day, too entertained by chasing a fat tabby cat that had jumped the wall to the garden

Whatever parent or guardian that came with seemingly hadn't noticed - not that they were alive long enough too

And, of course, Felix was the one to deliver the child to Master Aro considering he's the only one with a modium of decorum or respect for life in the castle

Any of the other guards would have eaten you on sight to be honest (they wouldn't in the future but you're just some random human child right now, they don't care about you yet)

Aro takes one look at you're little form, sticky fingers; muddy knees; grazed elbows; a leaf in your hair

Perfect

They're keeping you

easy, right?

wrong

Why is a overexcited yet hysterical human child such a lovable inconvenience, you may ask

well

1) none of them can fully keep track of you're emotions,why are children so confusing???

2) they can't fully keep track of your whereabout either

"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET OF THE ROOF YOU HEATHEN CHILD" - Caius probably

3) they know nothing, and I mean nothing, about humans. Expect them to ask the secratery for help next time you're sobbing, only to find out you're hungry because they haven't fed you a proper meal in days thinking you'd forage for it yourself

I swear Marcus is the only one who is knowledgeable, despite how small it is

"the child requires sustinence again" - Jane, fed up of this shit

4) they're used to the traumatic stuff of vampire life, you are not, they don't realise that

poor kid is gonna be so traumatised, by the age of 10 killing someone over cereal seems socially acceptable

At least Caius actually has a soft spot for you, otherwise you'd be dead dead by now

Marcus reads you bedtime stories

Aro wants you to grow up appreciating everything he does, there are many 'daddy/daughter dates' where he takes you to see plays, musicals, concerts, or whatever that he deems suitable

Caius pretends to be impressed with your drawings and fakes excitement at whatever lego monstrosity you've made

Alec shows you the world, taking you around on his days off to Scotland, Brazil, India or wherever you randomly point to on a map

Felix let's you use his cloak as a blanket when he's not using it, you like to play with it and use it for dens and pillow forts (it can also be used as one of those massive fabric parachute tent bubble thingys the class played with in nursery/FS1/kindergarten and hid under (you know what I'm talking about))

Demitri let's you win at hide and seek despite his gift letting him know where you are at all times. He is also not above pretending to play to keep you out the way and quiet for a solid five minutes before you come out giggling saying you won again

Jane will capture butterflies and set them free with you because she knows you love them and you also love to chase them

The queen's are always dressing you up like a doll and doing your hair, they basically get a list from the secratery of everything humans need (food, water, socialising etc) and fulfil those needs for you

The secratery is the only one who actually knows what you want and need most times, being human herself. The kings are seriously considering turning her instead of just killing her you your sake

And God forbid anyone touches their precious baby, you've grown on them and they'd burn the world for you in an instant

[heich0e]

the heart is but a winding road p.2 - shouto todoroki/f!reader (1.8k) fluff, pro-hero shouto todoroki is not good with kids (lying), natsuo is the most big brother that ever big brothered, someone pls give the poor assistant a raise, i truly believe that shouto hyperfixates on random things for a few weeks at a time and you cannot change my mind, also i promise the 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 is coming.. i just need to set the mood first.

p.1 - YOU ARE HERE - p.3 - p.4 (upcoming)

“What was I like when I was five?” 

“Uh, dunno? Guess you were kinda—hey!” Natsuo doesn’t even manage to finish his thought before something (apparently very pressing) on his end of their phone call distracts him. “Aoi! You little—get down from there! Motherf—“

Shouto listens to the chaos unfold with a completely unchanging expression.

“Tou! Talk to your uncle for a second. Your brother's gonna break his neck!”

There’s a scuffle, and before Shouto can so much as protest there’s a little voice greeting him on the other end of the line.

“Hi Oji-chan!” Touma, Natsuo’s 7-year-old, says cheerfully after having evidently been handed the phone.

He hears a little giggle and the sound of his brother squawking incoherently somewhere in the distant background on their side of the call. This is immediately followed by a series of very loud crashes and a panicked string of words which, even in his limited knowledge of childrearing, Shouto's fairly certain kids are not supposed to hear.

“Hello,” he greets his nephew curtly. “If your father’s busy, I can—”

There’s a bit more shuffling, some disgruntled grumbling and laboured panting, and then Natsuo is taking the phone again.

“Sorry, sorry,” the older man says breathlessly, and Shouto stares up at the ceiling over his sofa blankly. “Oh, okay, what were you asking about?”

“Me. When I was five.”

“Oh, yeah!” Shouto’s brother laughs. “Dunno. You were round, I guess? And pretty squishy.”

Shouto rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

Natsuo laughs, loud and carefree like he always does. “Well, what did you mean, then?”

“What kind of stuff did I like?”

There’s a thread hanging from Shouto’s sleeve, and he fiddles with it while he speaks with his brother. It’s distracting, but he can’t quite grip the troublesome string to pluck it loose since he’s using his other hand to hold the phone to his ear.

Natuso hems and haws as he mulls Shouto's question over for a bit. “Soba and chewing on things, mostly.”

“I liked chewing on things when I was five?” Shouto’s reply is flat and unamused. He shifts to hold his cellphone between his shoulder and his ear as he lays back against the cushions of his sofa, snapping the string off easily once he has the use of both his hands.

“Yeah, you were always bite-y,” Natsuo replies simply.

The youngest Todoroki sighs. He rolls the thin bit of thread between his fingers for a moment, watching how the ends split and fray, then flicks it away disinterestedly.

“What’s all this about, anyway?”

There’s a significant amount of racket on Natsuo’s end of the call, but Shouto suspects that’s a fairly normal thing for his older brother’s home. What with two kids and more pets that Shouto can keep track of, there’s always pandemonium happening whenever he stops by to visit. He can’t help but think it’s a miracle that Natsuo managed to find anyone who would willingly subject themselves to that, let alone a partner as normal as the one he married.

“Nothing really,” Shouto mumbles. “Just curious.”

“Well, Yumi would remember that stuff better than I do anyway,” Natsuo chirps. “You could always ask her!” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Shouto nods even though he knows his brother can’t see the gesture. 

They end the call with vague plans to meet up for dinner the following week, though these plans often end up getting rescheduled or completely forgotten about in the stir of their busy adult lives. Once the line disconnects, Shouto is once more left staring up at the boring beige ceiling of his living room.

His apartment is always just a bit too cold. It’s been that way since the day he moved in. His hope in choosing such an upscale domicile had been that he wouldn’t run into issues like this one; it was newly constructed after all, and cost enough that things as simple as climate control shouldn’t be a problem. But no matter how much he fiddles with the thermostat, no matter the time of year, there’s always a chill that seems to linger in his quiet home.

He blinks up at the ceiling and listens to the pitter patter of rain outside.

It’s been raining for days now, with only the occasional break in the downpour that never lasts more than a few hours. His last four patrols have ended with him towelling off in the changing room at his agency, using his quirk to warm the terrycloth before he ruffles it through his drenched hair. His costume is fairly well-insulated, and repels the rain, but he still always feels so soggy by the time he gets home.

Suddenly, he thinks about a little yellow raincoat, and the thump of rubber boots.

Truthfully, Shouto’s not sure why he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that strange encounter from a few days prior. The little boy in the yellow raincoat and the ill-fated, crumpled receipt.

Maybe it’s because he can’t remember the last time a kid was less excited to meet him. 

Maybe it’s something else.

Shouto’s expensive sofa creaks as he pitches himself upwards, reaching out towards the tablet he’d left resting on the edge of his coffee table. He unlocks the device, and realizes he’d left it open to a news article about the Recycling Hero he'd been reading earlier in the day.

He’s been reading a lot about Reductro lately—just about any resource he can find. News articles online, press releases, pamphlets that environmental activists are handing out on street corners. Hell, half the hits on the the guy's Heropedia page from the past week were probably thanks to Shouto.

Just earlier that very day he’d even placed an order online for a copy of the Recycling Hero's newest book.

Reductro, Shouto recently learned, has dedicated his life’s work to inspiring meaningful environmental changes around Japan; he uses his quirk that is capable of breaking down plastics and other complex carbon compounds (as well as his doctorate in Ecology and Environmental Science) to make significant improvements to the climate and the country. The man has a way of speaking that’s neither overly sanitized nor pedantic and inaccessible; kids love him for his exciting way of talking about the environment and why they should care about it, but he's equally capable of putting on a suit and addressing a crowd of adults. Above all else, he seems to be truly passionate about the work that he’s doing–a conclusion Shouto has inarguably come to through his extensive research, and by watching just about every video he's managed to track down online.

He hates to admit it, but the guy is kind of… really cool.

He gets why Naoyuki was so obsessed with him.

Shouto taps around the surface of the tablet for a moment, pulling up an article about a documentary that Reductro is in the process of producing about microplastics. He scans through the article—making a mental note to look up when it will be coming out and see if his secretary can get him an early cut of it—when an image at the bottom of the article makes him pause. It’s a recent photograph that, according to the caption underneath, was taken only a few weeks prior when Reductro was giving a presentation at a local elementary school.

A little voice rings in the back of Shouto's mind, from a rainy day not unlike this one.

“He came to my school last week and he helps to get plastic outta the ocean!”

Naoyuki may have been a bit of a menace, but he was well-intended. And ultimately Shouto has him to thank for opening his eyes to the prestige of the Recycling Hero.

He stares at the image lighting up the screen in his hands for a moment, his eyes scanning over the name of the elementary school a few times as an idea begins to take shape.

He reaches instinctively for his cellphone.

“Good evening, Shouto-sama,” Shoto’s assistant and secretary, Takahashi, answers on the second ring—just like he always does. “Are you well?”

“Hi,” Shouto greets the man in a relatively abrupt manner, brushing off pleasantries for the sake of saving time. “How hard is it to find a kid?” 

There’s a few beats of silence as Shouto’s question lingers over the line.

“Such as a missing person’s case?” Takahashi-san finally responds, though the usually proper and eloquent man sounds uncharacteristically baffled. 

“No,” Shouto shakes his head. He thinks about his next words carefully. “If i know where a kid goes to school and his first name, could you track him down?”

“Track… him down?”

For all the hard-fought takedowns Shouto has made in his career as a hero, he sure is losing this battle.

“He’s not a criminal or anything,” Shouto explains, and Takahashi hums understandingly, but it sounds sort of like when an adult is placating a child. “I met him in the street the other day."

"I see."

Shouto knows he still doesn't get it, and he wracks his brain for a way to make this whole situation make sense, even though it doesn't.

"He’s… a fan.”

Lying is bad. Shouto knows this. He happens to pride himself on knowing the difference between good and bad, as a matter of professionalism. But Naoyuki is a fan, for all intents and purposes.

Just not his.

“Oh,” Takahashi-san sounds more at ease now with this half-truthful revelation, “very well. I don’t suppose it would be all too difficult to find the child’s information. I'm sure the school would be willing to forward contact information for a legal guardian if your office were to reach out on official business.”

“His mother," Shouto replies immediately.

“Pardon?”

“He, uh..."—Shouto fiddles with the tablet in his left hand—"The little boy. He was with his mother when I met him. She’ll remember me.”

“I see. Please forward me the name of the institution and I’ll reach out to the school administration first thing in the morning.” Takahashi has always been exceedingly competent, since the first day Shouto hired him. He’s a bit stuffy, and Shouto’s pretty sure he’s never seen him smile, but the young hero strangely admires the man's no-nonsense sort of antiquated way of doing things. “I assume you’re looking to send some sort of gift. Perhaps a signed poster? Some merchandise?” 

“Yes,” Shouto says, nodding. Then he pauses. “But not mine.”

“Oh?” the man on the other end of the line—who Shouto now realizes is likely at home during his off-hours that he rudely interrupted—sounds puzzled again. 

“Takahashi-san…” Shouto stares down at the tablet in his hands, still open to the article he’d been reading before he picked up his phone to make this call. “Have you ever heard of the Recycling Hero?”

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Omg omg omg I almost missed the ask box being open! First of all though: thank you ever so much for all your hard work.

My question is this: I really like Mpreg fics. And I remember reading one where Derek thought Stiles rejected him and the baby. Only Stiles didn't even know male werewolves could get pregnant. I can find fics with this trope where it's Stiles who is pregnant but not the other way around

I think so!

Naps are nature’s way of reminding you that life is nice by FicLogia

(1/1 I 3,033 I General)

Melissa puts the patient chart away and comes closer to the omega. “It’s normal to change your mind. Especially for someone in your position.” Young, unmated, barely graduated. The omega ob-gyn has seen it one too many times.

Derek shakes his head, runs a hand over the arc of his belly, relishing the feel of it, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “I want this baby. We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Then why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Little Dash Of Pink by AsagiStilinski

(1/1 I 4,790 I Teen)

Derek always thought those stories he heard about male pregnancies in his family were just old wives' tales and bad jokes

Suddenly, that's no longer true, and he's not too sure how to tell his husband

ay it out loud, love by pineneedlepants

(4/? I 29,137 I Teen)

When Derek first finds out, it's a rainy thursday that reflects his mood perfectly. He's been oddly dizzy lately, with bouts of nausea that don't make any sense to him, and he's pretty sure he's never slept as much as he is now, not even as a carefree teenager. He thumps his forehead gently against the table top, willing the water he drank not five minutes ago to stay down. He's rubbing his head on the wooden surface when he hears it.

There's a soft thump thu-thump coming from somewhere near him. He lifts his head slowly, as not to make the world spin and tries to concentrate where the soft beat is coming from. Because it couldn't possibly be -

Derek cannot be -

With growing horror, he directs his eyes downwards, to his slightly softened belly. His hands have stilled on his skin, trembling lightly. The soft thump thu-thump comes again, and again, and again, the sound getting louder with each soft flutter, until the pulse matches Derek's own. It's almost mesmerizing, a beautiful cadence that flutters in and out of rhythm of Derek's own heartbeat. --

Or the one where there's a misunderstanding of the century, a little angst, a surprise baby and a deliriously happy ending.

A Legend of a Lonely Boy by bunnymaccool

(1/1 I 42,991 I Explicit)

Peter Hale managed to climb his way back up from death only long enough to do one, terrible, horrible thing. It was enough to accomplish his goal. To leave a legacy. Two months after killing his uncle for the second time, Derek is feeling sick and weak, heavy in his own body. What Deaton is telling him should be impossible... but...

There is a werewolf legend. About unmated alpha who desperately desired to have heirs, so he studied the moon and the stars in such great depth that he discovered a secret. On the night of the full moon, when the stars aligned just so … he could plant his pups into whatever body he desired. Regardless of species, regardless of gender.

The danger is this ... werewolves are not meant to carry pups alone. They need someone to guide them, love them, protect them during this time of vulnerability. A partner. A mate. But Derek Hale has none of these things. He has no one. If he and his pup are going to survive, he may just have to follow the ridiculous suggestion Deaton puts forth. The completely annoying, loud-mouthed, pain in his ass suggestion that makes Derek want to rip someone's throat out. With his teeth.

Through the Dark by WriteByNight

(11/35 I 93,401 I Explicit)

Stiles is down on his luck and out of money, just trying to finish his last year of college. Out of ideas, he goes to donate his sperm and meets Derek Hale, who is looking for a surrogate to carry his and his infertile girlfriend's baby. Stiles is instantly attracted to the alpha werewolf, but pushes his feelings to the side in order to fulfill Derek's dream for children.

Derek and Stiles grow close, but try to deny the feelings growing for one another because as soon as the pregnancy is over Stiles will have to give the baby over to Derek and Braeden, and walk out of their lives. However, the closer he gets to his due date, the harder it is to come to terms that he'll have to let go of the man he's come to love.

[littlejuicebox]

Mindwinter Carol 6 / The Affliction

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.7K

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot "A Midwinter Carol."

Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur's Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of "A Midwinter Carol," Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover? Or will he ultimately fall victim to his pride and desire for power?

Preview:

He’s weak, slow, moody… and above all, he’s hungry. His hunger makes it difficult to sleep.  Eirianwen knows this. She knows he’s struggling. So every night she traces her fingers along his scalp and hums an old Elvish lullaby until he’s fallen into a trance beside her.  When Astarion wakes in the night his hands always search for her, desperate to pull her close. And she is always there.  * He remembers how easy and instinctual it had been to reach for Ani all those years ago.  But now, the Ascendant cannot even bring himself to hold her hand as she trances through the worst parts of the poison’s wrath, forced into a slumber by Jaheira.

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore

-----

“You don’t remember anything about your family, Astarion?” 

Nighttime seemed eerily quiet in the Shadowlands; no animals or insects rustle in the barren woods and even the breeze is stunted in this horrifying, lightless place. The low, constant hum of Karlach’s snoring is the only background noise in camp. 

Eirianwen is perched in Astarion’s lap, facing him, her warm limbs coiled around his torso like vines around a tree trunk as he rests his head in the crook of her neck and breathes in the scent of her skin. She smells both crisp and sweet, like fresh fallen snow. The scent clings to his shirt even when they’re apart; a constant reminder of his attachment to the woman. 

Their nighttime activities have consisted of nothing more than cuddles and pillow talk for weeks and yet she’s still here. 

Astarion still doesn’t fully understand why. 

He pauses, searching through the blurred, fractured memories. Most are smattered with hundreds of faces he’s crossed along the way; almost all of the faces are discomforting.  He’s hoping, despite the answer he already knows, for any sign of someone that could be his mother. His father. A sibling, perhaps? 

Nothing. It’s always nothing. 

“No, Ani. I’ve told you before, darling. I don’t have a single solid memory from my past prior to… him. Just vague, fuzzy pieces I cannot associate with a time nor place.” He sighs, his tone betraying his frustration as he nuzzles his head into the sorceress’s nimble hand, searching for comfort. She idly trails her fingers through his silvery curls, lightly scratching his scalp. 

She hums softly but doesn’t say more on the topic. She knows when to stop pushing him. He loves that about her.

He thinks he loves her. He still hasn’t said it. 

“Ready for bed?” Eirianwen asks with a soft peck to his cheek, and Astarion simply nods in response. He’s often much quieter when he’s not in front of the others; when he doesn’t have to perform. 

She climbs off the male elf and quickly settles into the bedroll before patting the space next to her with an adorable, sleepy smile. He settles in next to the sorceress and she resumes running her fingers through his hair. Astarion is sure it’s incredibly disheveled by now, but in front of only Ani’s warm golden eyes, he doesn’t care. 

The Shadowlands have been torturous. The vampire spawn has yet to catch a single living creature out here, and he refuses to drink from Ani more than once every three days, despite her protests. He jokes they can’t both be operating at suboptimal levels or the group would simply fall apart.

They can manage without him, he knows this. He also knows that, like him, they can’t manage without Ani. 

He’s weak, slow, moody… and above all, he’s hungry. His hunger makes it difficult to sleep. 

Eirianwen knows this. She knows he’s struggling. So every night she traces her fingers along his scalp and hums an old Elvish lullaby until he’s fallen into a trance beside her. 

When Astarion wakes in the night his hands always search for her, desperate to pull her close. And she is always there. 

*

He remembers how easy and instinctual it had been to reach for Ani all those years ago. 

But now, the Ascendant cannot even bring himself to hold her hand as she trances through the worst of the poison’s wrath, forced into slumber by Jaheira. The average course of Delilah’s prior torture toxins had always been between three to five days. Most people give up their secrets after that. The ones that don’t undergo a second round of poison, and most of those unfortunate souls die; their bodies simply give up on them. 

He’s sitting in a plush wingback chair not more than a few feet from Eirianwen, staring at the old metal ring he’d slipped onto her finger before rushing her to the Palace. True Love’s Caress and True Love’s Embrace. Two physical symbols of twisted, tainted love. 

How fitting. 

Though, this time around, he’s the shield and she’s the ward. 

In the Shadowlands, when they first found the rings, it had been the other way around. Ani had insisted upon this particular arrangement because without regular sustenance, the vampire had been weak and sluggish. In his mind, he’d been useless. And the sorceress had refused to wear the matching rings otherwise, ultimately forcing his hand. Despite the fact Astarion hadn’t yet told her he loved her, he wanted everyone to know she was well and truly taken.

Fifteen years ago she was his. He was hers. 

Now the vision of the beautiful, silvery-blue haired elven woman in his bed is entirely unfamiliar and he attempts, and yet consistently fails, to sleep in the adjacent office. 

*

The Ascendant lounges idly on a velvet upholstered bench in a well-appointed room of Sharess’ Caress. A golden goblet dangles through his slender fingers as he surveys the salacious scene in front of him. 

The Drow twins are there, as well as three other workers, all engaged in different aspects of bacchanalia. It’s been just over six months since Ani’s been gone; he rents this room and pays for this show nearly every weekend, mostly as a distraction. Astarion only watches, never engages.

He isn’t sleeping well, if at all. He thought performing the rite would make the nightmares cease, but the moment Eirianwen packed her bags and left the palace he was haunted by the visions. Many of them were of Cazador; many were of Ani. Both were tortuous in their own ways.

Every time the Ascendant looks at his still-unfamiliar visage in the mirror, the bags under his eyes appear deeper than before. 

Delilah enters the room with another bottle of wine and a sumptuous spread of mixed fruit and chocolates on a platter. Her straight silver hair is twisted into ornate braids and she is nowhere near as skimpily dressed as the other workers. The half-elf elegantly places the tray in front of Astarion and then pauses to watch the debauched scene before her with mild interest. Sorn is in the middle of performing his Menzoberranzan Love Trick. 

“I don’t pay you to stand there and stare.” Astarion warns snidely as he pops open the second bottle of wine and assesses the woman through judgmental scarlet eyes. 

Delilah emits a haughty laugh in response as she turns her hazel gaze to examine the elf, wholly unphased by the Ascendant in front of her, “You don’t pay me at all, my Lord. I assure you, I’m far too expensive for you to have had the pleasure.” 

She saunters away before the vampire can counter, and he stews at the insult for the remainder of the night, far too distracted by Delilah to appreciate any of the worker’s finales. What a waste.

A few days later, he enquires Mamzell Amira, the owner of Sharess’ Caress, about Delilah, intending to purchase her services solely to prove a point. He’d been ruminating over the insult for days. 

Astarion is informed that the half-elf is a shapeshifter and her lowest rates for different experiences are already three times as high as the next highest paid employee of the brothel. Now that, the Ascendant mused… that was interesting. He could use her services.

Perhaps in more ways than one. 

*

Edmund is held in the dungeons underneath the palace; convincing Wyll to leave the bastard here had been no easy task. But shortly after downing Edmund, the Duke had been called off to another emergency in the lower city, a riot of some sort, and he’d ultimately relented. Nowadays, the Blade’s dedication and loyalty always remained directed at the city. Even his closest friends, his precious Eirianwen, came second to duty.

Astarion is quite aware he has to interrogate the foreign, piece of shit spawn, but he cannot be more than sixty feet away from Ani or the enchantments on the ring cease to work. Plus, a few days without nourishment makes one more inclined to spill their most disgusting secrets. He knows this far too well. 

The silver-haired Lord is signing some documents for his steward, Pascal. The love of his life is in a forced trance the next room over, and yet business must go on and money must be made. His control over the city had already slipped since he and Delilah went their separate ways a few years back; he cannot let past-due documents be his final undoing. 

The rules of bureaucracy are asinine, but in many ways – far more than he likes – Astarion is still forced to follow them. What is the point of being an all-powerful Ascendant when you still have to dance around nobles and patriars, relentlessly pretending you’re part of a society you do not give a single shit about? 

The elf sucks in a sharp breath and abruptly clenches the quill in hand as a burning sensation courses through his system. It feels like pure acid in his veins. The pain emerges from the thin band on his index finger and shoots up his arm in an arc before circling itself around his body, as if following the course of his blood circulation.

It’s truly agonizing. But as the Ascendant, neither a surge of fire through his veins nor the effects of Delilah’s poisons are as potent as they would be on a mortal. He’s certain the rings are not completely doing away with Ani’s suffering, he can see the discomfort strewn across her face, even as she trances. But between the forced slumber and the ring’s enchantments, they’re saving her from the worst of it. 

He hopes. 

Pascal collects the newly signed piles of scrolls and then hands a small folded note of parchment, sealed with red wax, to Astarion. The Ascendant drinks a simple healing potion in order to combat the effects of the ring.

“This arrived just now, as well, my Lord.” The human male, with eyes just a bit too wide and a scar running along his face murmurs. Pascal had been the elf’s first hire when he took over the palace fifteen years ago. Back then, the man had been a spry thirty-something; now Pascal is a graying human approaching middle age. He’d unfortunately rejected Astarion’s offer to become a spawn.

Seems immortality is not as alluring as one might think. Pity, though. Pascal had proven to be quite useful over the years.

Jaheira appears in the doorway of Astarion’s office. It’s clear she’s quite uncomfortable within these walls, but she’s continuing on for Eirianwen. The druid purses her lips and meets the gaze of the Vampire Lord, “There’s been a new development.” 

Astarion leaves the small folded piece of parchment strewn upon his desk and Umber curled sleeping on a cushion underneath it. 

*

“You will regret leaving me… more than anything else you live to regret.”

They are sitting across from one another in their old booth at the Elfsong, a few weeks after their break up. He’d been positive this meeting was called because the sorceress wanted to reconcile. The Ascendant thought he would make her grovel a bit, but then ultimately take her back. Astarion had to punish her, if only just, to ensure she never considered such a ridiculous stunt ever again.

But instead, Ani told him she was leaving the city and going to meet Halsin in Reithwin. Astarion is convinced this is an intentional goad from the elven woman, some sort of manipulation on her end. He said what he did in a pitiful attempt to goad her in return. 

Eirianwen tips her chin up pridefully as she smoothly stands from the table and evaluates the Vampire Ascendant. He feels his fingers instinctively flex with nerves as he watches her. Ani is far too calculated and far too unemotional as she glosses her eyes across his face looking for… something, though he still doesn’t fully understand what. In this final, painstaking moment, the male elf realizes this is truly the end between them. She is done. He almost retches on the spot but his pride forces him to shove the visceral reaction down.

“You’re nothing like the man I fell in love with anymore. I don’t know who you are. I hope you find the pieces of him still within you, someday.”

She would regret leaving him, that much was true. But Astarion would regret letting her go far more.

*

When Jaheira and Astarion enter the room, Ani is drenched in sweat and speaking in strings of broken Elvish as old memories flicker through her mind. In the moments Astarion had spent sitting at her side, the sorceress mentioned someone named Calinion more than once. The Ascendant assumes it’s a lover from her travels and the thought makes his skin crawl; he desires to know nothing more about the man and therefore ignores most of her mutterings.

Astarion’s garnet-colored eyes immediately notice the marred flesh of Eirianwen’s right hand. Small pinprick ulcers are beginning to form along her inner arm; parts of her smooth, vitiligo-patched skin are turning black. It’s starkest against the spots on her arms where her depigmentation has made the skin almost as pale as his own. 

Her vitiligo was beautiful. The appearance of this affliction was anything but.

Astarion had never witnessed this from any of Delilah’s previous concoctions. But the changeling was known to experiment with new tinctures quite often; she excelled at torture and seemed to delight in finding new, innovative ways to inflict pain. It had been one of the many reasons the Ascendant had remained involved with her for years; she’d been an excellent informant. 

“Necrosis.” Jaheira explains, her voice clinical but grave, as she brings a plush towel to Ani’s face and dabs at bits of sweat along the sorceress’s brow, “I suspect that, despite the rings, this poison — or curse, perhaps — isn’t targeting you because as an undead, nevermind an Ascendant, you are highly resistant. Try as it might, it cannot touch you. But it has to enact its damage somewhere.” 

“There must be something you can do.” Astarion responds, brow furrowing as he takes the cloth from Jaheira’s hands and gently resumes the task, mostly to distract himself. He’s angry, and frustrated, but he tempers all of it down because Jaheira is his — their — only hope. 

As the vampire blots along the sorceress’s face, his eyes focus on the small patch of vitiligo underneath her left eye. He wants nothing more than to bend over and press a gentle kiss atop it.

If true love’s kiss were more than a silly notion in a child’s fairy tale, he would have kissed her already. 

“If there were anything I could do, I would have done it by now. But as you said yourself, Delilah’s concoctions are unlike anything we have seen. The remnants along Eirianwen’s wound contain highly unfamiliar ingredients; your old paramour must source them from quite far.” Jaheira murmurs and then sighs dejectedly, “The most I can do is try to limit the spread. But even my magic and medicinals are struggling to compete against this… atrocity. The poison should be out of her system in another day or two; the most we can hope is that it simply runs the rest of its course with minimal damage.”

Astarion twitches his fingers as he assesses the ill elven woman in his bed. 

“I would not think about turning her now, Astarion.” Jaheira warns, reading the Ascendant’s mind as his eyes roam across the sleeping sorceress’ face, “She would never forgive you, and you’re risking Eirianwen remaining frozen, damaged like this for all eternity. Is that what you want? And more importantly, is that what she would want?” 

Astarion inhales a slow, contemplative breath. Moments of silence pass between the two conscious beings in the room and then the male elf simply responds, “No.” 

Jaheira isn’t sure which question he’s answering. She hopes it’s both.

He leaves the bedchambers without another word. Enough is enough. The Ascendant may not be able to travel down the several flights of stairs to the dungeons, but Edmund can be brought to him. Some of the worst things that ever happened to Astarion occurred in the many halls and rooms of this palace, rather than in the dungeons themselves. Cazador found ways to torture and punish his spawn no matter where they were.

Astarion is certain he can do far worse than Cazador ever did to the bastard responsible for Eirianwen’s affliction in the first place. Because unlike Cazador, the Ascendant has little reason to keep this fucker presentable. Or alive, for that matter.

Edmund will not remain tight-lipped for long. 

*

Special thank you to my friend and lore queen @chickywickers for telling me the owner of the brothel is, in fact, not Sharess. Edited to fix. 😊

[eldritch-spouse]

I swear this is my last ask for the night, I have been devoring your content and got the 601 badge for it, which I'm now proudly displaying on my blog. Anywhowitzers.

From my perusal of Vesper content, what if, his Queen desperately wants bio children of her own? Not just one. Maybe like, 4 with him. Originally was gonna shoot for like, 12 kids before she met him but understands that he has a limit.

His Queen has a big BIG momma bear streak as well and it breaks her heart when, with Vesper's mark, kids shy away from her out of uncomfortablness and she can't help but think, "Are my own children going to do the same?" She's always wanted at least 2 children of her own but upon learning about how concubi are around them, she's torn about if she should even try with Vesper and feels insecure about voicing what she wants because she's sure it would probably be countered with an immediate, "No." So she kind of slips into this funk, where engaging with rapture with him ends with a twist of deep despair because she knows that as much as she wishes for children of her own, she can't help but think it might be better to just give up that dream.

How would Vesper react to his Queen slipping into a depressive state upon that realization? Would he try to convince her that everything is fine as is? Would he try to speed up the process of turning his Queen into a Concubus so she wouldn't feel that desire anymore? Or maybe even try to actually conceive after learning about how she feels?

And then, let's say she does go through the transformation before having kids. She remembers her want for her own offspring and feels like a war is raging within her at almost all times. Her new instincts battling against her old dreams and desires. I feel like there would be times where she stares off into the distance, face twisted in disgust while tears drip from sorrowful eyes, and her hand clenched tightly against her stomach, nails digging in yet cupping herself tenderly.

- ZN

[It continues to fascinate me how people are so intent on shoving children upon Vesper. I've never even told you if he'd be good as a father, the sex appeal must create some sort of mental warp wherein people genuinely think it would work out- In spite of everything. Or maybe it's a deliberately torturous prompt, that I understand. I don't mind the asks though, congrats on the badge. 🎉 🤣]

Vesper will always push back on the topic of children, and it genuinely pains him that you're so focused on one, but you need to see things for what they are, and Vesper will not hesitate to open your eyes one day.

Look around you, you live in depravity. You are depravity- It's your new life! A child cannot he born into that life, ever. Not only would it wound everyone of his citizens to be in close proximity to them, that poor halfling would experience soul-shattering trauma that not a single person wants to imagine. You will not conceive anything in the grounds of Lust. Ever.

You cannot take an extended leave to the surface (or another Ring) for the purposes of carrying out a pregnancy and raising a child to at least eighteen years of age. He won't let you. That makes no sense to him. While it is true that demonlords of Lust have had kids before, these were mere transactions to acquire a direct heir who will grow up far away from them, which isn't something the most recent generations of Lust rulers are concerned with.

Can you do that? Can you separate yourself from your children after birth for that long? Do you fear they might resent you? It's risky business.

Vesper sits you down and he explains to you, at length, what a horrible idea having children would be. But please, there is no shame in having caring instincts. And, in his eyes, you should redirect that to the people around you. Take care of those within the mansion, take care of Lust residents in need (not just sexual need, of course), but please. For your own sake, don't try to establish contact with children.

Vesper is not about to sentence a potential child of his to a life of misery. He'd rather they not be born at all.

The Icon does tell you that your nature and your desires will change when your form does. That it will no longer be painful to exist childless, you will grow into a new age of your existence where that no longer weighs you down. Pain and sadness do not last forever, my Queen.

He will be there when it seems as if your own mind and body cannot come to an agreement, when your instincts fight, when you're torn inside out. It will fade.

It will fade.

One day you will be understand this is for the best.

Lust is not for the pure of heart.

[savagewildnerness]

I’ve done separate piano & violin improvisations for Nicolas’ unfulfillable yearning. This one is more for me, so I’ll add the Nicolas book reference to the violin one.

I really relate to Nicolas in some ways. When I first read TVL, I was a 12-year-old. I’d played violin for 4 years, but only from free lessons in school. I’d also *just* begun piano lessons. I’d adored music since I remember (I danced from age 2 & felt the music - it conjured images within me, like a magic), but I knew I was too old when I started playing instruments. Nobody was musical in my family. I only had short, free violin lessons. 12 is very old to just begin on piano and 8 is quite old on violin. I’d never be great at either. I knew. And for me, great had to be perfection as a child - the utter best. I relate to a certain despair & yearning in Nicolas. And I do not have Lestat’s charisma, drive or enduring personality.

But I see the world entire more like Lestat. Aesthetically, I see the world Lestat’s way. Art is my love. I feel the savage beauty of the world. I believe in the goodness of art. I never believed in religion in any way. I also try to put positivity into the world & actually I relate to Lestat in that I think he too has a lot of internal darkness that maybe Nicki doesn’t know & I imagine Lestat feels seen when he feels Nicki’s art - Nicki who can turn his darkness into art for others to feel from. Whereas Lestat can only make others happy with his art! And yet, he would have been hugely successful as an actor, I know, had he remained mortal.

I cannot relate to Nicki’s feelings around religion, nor to his envy and cynicism. I find it sad he doesn’t think on Lestat’s struggles - Lestat, still illiterate now, as an adult. And a tragedy Lestat sees Nicolas through rose-tinted love & doesn’t understand the depth of despair & desperation within Nicki & the chasm of pain at his core that could never be resolved. Lestat thinks “if only Nicolas could understand what I mean when I say art is goodness!” - it’s a beautifully naive and simply idealistic hope - a hope that Nicolas could never feel. Yet both Nicki and Lestat are sensitive & artistic and there is a sense on which their differences create something - they create the space in which their conversation can take place. Nicki sees Lestat in ways he has never been seen before. Had Lestat never met Nicki, I think he may have lacked some internal sense of his self worth. But Nicki turns his torment into art, whereas Lestat shows the world his radiant light. And sadly, Nicki is right that he could never fully reach the greatness he would wish. I mean, I knew I'd never be a great violinist having begun to play aged 8. The idea Nicki could be (sorry Anne Rice!) is frankly, ridiculous! Even if Mozart did teach him! As if Mozart would teach a beginner anyway though!!

I think even had Lestat remained mortal Nicki and Lestat would have ended in tragedy. But that’s not to say there wasn’t love. Lestat absolutely loved Nicolas & I think Nicolas truly loved Lestat too. It’s just his own self hatred was so all-consuming it nearly took Lestat as well as himself.

I’m reminded of a man who once told me: play your music with your friends! Get their input! Create together! With (apparently) zero understanding how isolated my entire life is & always was.

Oh, I might not understand Nicolas fully because in some ways he is too close to me & in other ways he is too different. But Nicki’s pain & yearning with regards to his art, and his existence - the impossibility that always was and ever will be for him... that, I understand.

[softichill]

The Sound of Nightmares unofficial transcript

(Sadly @queen0fm0nsterz wasn't able to work on this one, but is still important to credit bc I say so)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

-------------

[Click]

[Thunderstorm in the background]

OTTO: The guardian at the threshold. An archetype that parapsychologists have obsessed over for centuries. A mythic entity who’s appeared in the stories of innumerable cultures. No matter their description, his role is always the same: to confront anyone who dares cross into unseen worlds. 

OTTO: In our last session, he spoke to her, or– through her. Even when I listen to the tape I can’t be certain what I’m hearing. Still, I’ve repeated his words like a sickness ever since. It went like this. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: “Cross the sill. Sink in a twinkling. Cast aside the old sleep, to sleep again anew.”

[Otto puts the paper down]

OTTO: The Candleman, the Ferryman– indeed, the Guardian at the Threshold. An idolon on the inside, determined to [Hitting the table] Keep. Me. Out. 

[Tape rewinding]

[Intro plays]

[Click]

[Shifting, electric humming, Otto putting something together]

OTTO: Noone was right after all. [Slow beeping starts] I noticed something off, while reviewing the E.E.G, and reluctantly, sent her up to radiology. At first I doubted the validity of the results, but the technician assured- curtly- that Noone’s scan undeniably shows… a pea-sized tumor, on the right-sided amygdala. 

[clatter, humming continues]

OTTO: They maintain it’s benign, [click, more humming] despite the unusual ocular appearance. 

[repeated clicking, Otto keeps building]

OTTO: This calls everything into question. The mass’s location could impact fear response, emotional salience, and damningly, dreams. And yet… I cannot deny all the evidence to the contrary. 

[Lower click, Otto stops building]

OTTO: I’ve… pondered the ethics of informing Noone. She’s already so scared of her body that it would only send her spiraling. I can’t risk anything jeopardizing a revelation that might lead to Cici. 

[Shift]

OTTO: From here on, anyone listening will think me mad. But, the proof is in the pudding! Noone’s… vanishings; her transpersonal states; they’re undeniable evidence of a realm- beyond our senses. It’s always been on the periphery, but now I know… it’s accessible. And she possesses the means to enter that domain. 

[Papers rustling on the desk]

OTTO: My professor’s paper posits thus: “There are two requisites for entering the quiddity of consciousness. First, a gateway; places hidden amid our world. Second, a means to open these doors. And I assert that keys are primarily cut out of fear.”

[Otto places the paper down and lifts the device he was building. Humming becomes more clear, Otto sighs.]

OTTO: Either I lack his erudition, or his mania. My only hope lies in completing my labours. [Sigh, shifting on desk] I’ve not slept in weeks, [another sigh] and if I cannot dream as she does, I’ll never know how to enter- this… Nowhere. 

[Click, audio cuts]

[Audio starts]

[Thunder in the background]

OTTO: [in the background] An ugly autumn night, isn’t it Noone? Swirling mist, they called it on the broadcast. A weather phenomenon unique to the Counties- a downpour’s not far off. But- a gift, may brighten the mood. 

[Otto gets closer to the recorder]

OTTO: Here. 

[Otto slides something over to Noone]

NOONE: O-oh. It’s nearly the same. Red, too. 

OTTO: A chrysanthemum, like your parents left you all those weeks ago! An apology, a- a reminder that I remain as committed to you as I did then. 

NOONE: Pretty. 

OTTO: It’s a perennial, so it’ll blossom year after year, just like you!

[Shifting as they both sit down]

NOONE: I think, I’m ready now. To talk about… m-my Mum and Dad. 

OTTO: (surprised) Oh. And why now? What’s changed?

NOONE: Because… I feel like I’m beginning to forget. And maybe talking will help me remember. 

OTTO: Because you’ve been away so long, or you literally feel you’re losing your memory?

NOONE: Um… more like I’m losing a part of me. I can’t tell, am I the girl here, or- the one there?

OTTO: (slightly amused) They’re one in the same. Given all you’ve told me, they must be. It’s not you that’s different, but the physical space around that y-

NOONE: I said I want to talk about my mum and dad! When most kids have nightmares, or- whatever these are, they go to their parents to feel better. Here, I relive them again and again. And it’s all you want to talk about, because you think you can find Cici! Through me!

OTTO: Noone. The only way to find answers is to discover where you go when you sleep. Talking about your parents would be wasting the hours!

NOONE: Aren’t these sessions supposed to be about me?! 

OTTO: Always. 

NOONE: But I have no say. No control. Over how I feel, or- what I do, I don’t even belong to myself!

[Pause]

NOONE: I’ll do as you ask, but promise me. (Quiet) No wires hooked into my head. No machines. Not tonight. 

OTTO: No machines, promise. [Getting up] I think you’ll enjoy what I’ve got planned. 

[Audio cuts]

[Door opens]

OTTO: This bed was for shiftwork*. Now I sleep here more days than not. 

NOONE: Oh. Pretty. 

[Door closes] 

[Steps on carpet, recorder set down]

OTTO: I’d like to try a sort of role-reversal. [Creak] I’ll lie here, blindfolded, depriving my senses, to enter a self-induced hypnogogia, so I can focus on your words. You’ll recount your latest visit, and I want you to try as hard as you can, to project your dream into my head. 

NOONE: I don’t think it can work, but… I’ll try. 

[Creak, shifting as Otto lays down]

NOONE: That girl. In the photo there. That’s her, your daughter. 

OTTO: My sister. 

NOONE: O-Oh. You don’t look much alike. 

[Otto getting prepared]

OTTO: [Exhale] I’m- I-I’m settled. Blindfold on… Carry me away with you, Noone. 

NOONE, narrating: …I couldn’t see anything-

OTTO: S-Slow down. This is vital. Speak, as if you’re trying to pull me in. 

NOONE: …

NOONE, narrating: I floated through a darkness, with nothing at my feet. Then it all faded and, I was somewhere new. 

NOONE: An underground brick tunnel, with a stream of… thick sludge passing through a canal at its center. 

NOONE: I can still hear it. Jangling keys. [Dream ambience starts] Screaking metal. Do you hear, Otto?

OTTO: I… I can’t. But keep trying. 

NOONE: It came from… a kid in the distance, struggling to shut a ground-iron door. The last thing I heard before the slamming shut was… laughter. [Echoey laughter, faint slam] 

[Running water]

NOONE: Sludge poured in from the pipes that ran along the tunnel walls. I had no choice but to follow the stream and, so I did until I reached a section [Distant kids chatting] where I saw storm drains above. 

[Dripping water, kids sound more intense] 

NOONE: Looking up through one, I saw a boy’s dirty boots, and orange light shining, from a lantern on his waist. We locked eyes and he called out,

BOY, overlapping with NOONE: “Look! Critters already!”

[Children laughing]

NOONE: Lights then shone down from… every drain above. Other boys and girls wanting to peek at me. 

[Children laughing, Dream!Noone quietly starting to breathe hard]

NOONE: Very suddenly, [laughter dies down] they went quiet. [Kids start whispering] I didn’t know why, until… I heard it. A rumbling through the tunnels. 

[Kids whisper things like “It’s here!” “It’s finally here!”]

NOONE: They whispered together. “It’s here! Finally here!” 

[Whispering dies down, rumbling]

NOONE: Do you feel what I felt, Otto?

OTTO: They’d… been waiting. For you. 

NOONE: …Not exactly. Their joy, their bratty excitement… they’d- gathered for an event, and it had finally come. Like a holiday, that only arrives once per year. 

NOONE: Running from their celebration, I turned down a tunnel, [wet footsteps] going until, I came to a junction. Overwhelmed by how many options surrounded me, I closed my eyes. Listening. 

[Running water, squeaky metal detector sounds] 

NOONE: The sound… came from the path to my left. [Faint electronic buzzing] I waited, watching from a distance, as someone crossed [squeaking] by the dark tunnel mouth. 

NOONE: He carried… a strange gadget. And every now and again, its buzz, turned to some- beeping. Detecting secrets, in the waters. 

[Metal detector squeaking]

NOONE: I hardly noticed the rest of him. But, I got a look before he crossed out of view. He carried a heavy sack, over his shoulder. And things squirmed inside. But, he was gone as quick as he’d appeared!

[Metal detector gets quieter, Dream!Noone’s wet steps]

NOONE: The sludge was… rising quickly [Dream!Noone: Ugh!], up to my ankles, and- the stink became so awful, Otto! I-Imagine it, waste filling your nose. 

[Wet steps continue]

NOONE: Then, across from me, a small pipe became blocked, stopping the sewage. A grey mass poked through [Nome chittering], jammed in tight, wiggling to get loose. But… not until it fell into the sludge [plop], did I realize this… tiny… [chittering] thing… was alive! It picked itself up and- swayed about, curious of my company. 

[Wet steps combined with Nome sounds. Nome makes noises through the next paragraph]

NOONE: The head was… was shaped like- those cone mushrooms, that grow out in Haitfield**. I inched closer to the little mushroom fairy, and… it began mimicking me! As if we’d been old friends!

OTTO: (distant) A friendly presence… the first non-hostile being you’ve met that wasn’t another child. 

NOONE: Yes! He belonged there. In that world. Part of it rather than… a stranger, like me. 

NOONE: Is… is it working, Otto? Can you see its little mushroom head?

OTTO: I think so. Maybe. Keep going. 

NOONE: [mimicking a deep voice] Yes. Drift away, Otto. Drift away… 

[Wet steps, Nome noises]

NOONE: A crooked net lowered down from a drain grate above. While I ducked to cover, the mushroom fairy didn’t. I tried to point upward but, it simply copied my gesture! There was a girl [little girl giggling] giggling with- ugly delight, sticking her whole arm through the grate, hoping to capture the poor thing! So I grabbed a loose brick, [lifting brick] and threw it at her! [Dream!Noone: Hup!]

NOONE: Hitting her arm [girl wailing] she cried out, while I picked up the mushroom fairy, [running through sludge] and ran off.

[Dream!Noone panting, running]

NOONE: After we were well clear, I put the creature down. [Nome chatters] It immediately walked off! Then, looked back, suggesting I follow. 

NOONE: [walking] That little body clicked, jittery and… ungraceful. Somehow the thing seemed to know where it was taking me, stopping only once we came to a rusty door [metal creaking], leading to a maintenance room. 

NOONE: Entering though, I discovered something else entirely. [Squeaky door opening, Dream!Noone gasps and whispers “Wow”] Endless piles spread about the room, some of pure junk while… others housed gold jewelry! As long as it could be collected, there was a place for it here. [Dream!Noone walking through the room] Mesmerizing. 

[Walking]

NOONE: Only after examining a mound of keys [key jingling] did I understand, where this stuff came from. Everything in this room, had been dropped down from the world above over the years. [Nome noise(?)] The only thing out of place, was a child’s propeller cap. On a chair, tucked away, forgotten. [Nome chitter] I think that’s what the mushroom fairy wanted me to see. 

NOONE: [Nome perks up] As if on cue, I heard the man approaching; the little creature hid in a pile of mismatched mittens, and I jammed my way in too. [Running, fabric shuffling, metal door opens and electric buzz + squeaking starts] 

NOONE: I peered out, as he stepped through the door and began dumping out his… pockets. [Faint clattering of various things] Coins, rings, trinkets… [Clattering stops] Next, he took off his plastic suit, covered in- gunk. Beneath, was a bony body, his spine bent horribly. What I thought had been a sack carried over his shoulder… was the back of his head. Like a balloon full of water, throbbing and- swollen. 

NOONE: But I could tell he was not always that way. He’d changed. Somehow become one… with the sewers. 

OTTO: (more distant) I don’t understand. You believe this place transformed him?

NOONE: Aren’t you meant to be drifting into hypergocklia, or whatever? Seeing, smelling, hearing as I did?

OTTO: I can’t seem… to let go. I want to, more than anything I-

NOONE: [Imitating Otto] Try! That’s what you always tell me. If I’m trying my hardest, you have to as well. 

NOONE, narrating: From the corner of my eye, I noticed the little cone sneaking away. The balloon-headed man was inches away, and in that moment, I thought of Jester. Of the Child with Gooey Hair. Of Rusty. I couldn’t do nothing, not again!

NOONE: Thankfully, [rumbling, clattering] that rumbling from earlier returned in that moment, stronger than before!

[Sewer Man notices and panics] 

NOONE: The shaking destroyed the man’s piles, startling him into… an odd anger, so… I stumbled out from hiding, [Running] and bolted for my mushroom fairy, [Nome] and out the door! [Metal creak, Sewer Man notices] 

NOONE: I ran and ran, and, [Dream!Noone running and panting] although the man, he wasn’t very fast, that didn’t matter. [Buzzing & squeaking] He had his gadget, and, that buzz followed wherever I went!

[Dream!Noone wading through water]

NOONE: Any sense of direction washed away with- the sludge that was now up to my knees! [Dream!Noone running & panting] Turning down tunnel after tunnel, I stopped, [ambience calms down, squeaking] hoping I’d lost him. 

NOONE: All at once, those lanterns shone from above [clicks]. The naughty kids had spotted us! [Kids start singing a teasing song] Wildly they sang, “Snatch a gift! Snatch a gift! Before they’re all sent adrift!” 

[Kids continue singing and start clapping along, ambience picks up]

NOONE: Their cheers grew and, [squeak, Dream!Noone gasps] and I saw why. [Electric buzzing] A bag-headed shadow appeared at the tunnel’s far end. Cutting me off. The man and his machine used the tunnels as if- as if the sewers had leaked into his thoughts!

[Dream!Noone breathing hard, splashing water]

NOONE: I tried to backtrack, but, must have taken a wrong turn, and found myself at a dead end. A wall of bricks! [Nome struggles] The mushroom fairy squirmed hard, begging to be freed! So… [plop] I let go, and the grey cone climbed up a pile of fallen rubble, and slipped through a crack, without hesitation, to abandon me! (Sad) Despite saving its life. 

[Water leaking]

NOONE: The crack the fairy squeezed through began spouting water from the other side. [Squeaking and buzzing start up again] I pulled at the bricks as the man stepped closer [Sewer Man gets closer, bricks shifting], one brick loose, then another. His gadget buzzed and buzzed, when I ripped a final brick loose, [Sewer Man sees Noone] leaving a hole large enough to creep through. 

[Sewer Man yells and hits the wall, buzzing and squeaking get farther away]

NOONE: He bated at the wall, grabbing at me, but, I was too far gone. His small, milky eye peeked through at me, until the walls rumbled, more fiercely than ever! The man backed away, overcome with horror. 

[Sewer Man yells, echoey kids’ cheers in the background] 

NOONE: The rumbling didn’t stop after that. And neither did the kids cheering from above. [Ambience rising] Whatever they had waited for… 

[All ambience stops]

NOONE: It was time. 

[Wind/thunder in the background, back in the office]

NOONE: Otto, you’re awake! [Otto startles]

OTTO: Yes, Noone. I’m trying, so hard, to see, to feel- to sense what you did, but I can’t. I don’t have the gift you have, and your gifts are not as commanding as I hoped they’d-

NOONE: (Upset/frustrated) I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat! I wish I could give you everything in my head, then I’d be rid of all of this. 

[pause]

NOONE: Shall I go on?

OTTO: Yes. 

NOONE, narrating: …It felt as if someone had picked up the sewer, shaking it with rage. Water crashed against the walls. I stumbled on and on, the tunnel growing wider and wider… A second smaller sound appeared; [distant nome chitters] clicks, and murmurs. Then, [nomes getting louder] out of the darkness ahead, they appeared, [many nomes running] scurrying so fast I couldn’t react! A hundred little mushroom fairies, rushing past me in a panic, escaping something close behind!

[Distant kids teasing]

NOONE: It wasn’t long before that something came. [Rushing water, kids cheering] speeding like [Dream!Noone gasps] a pack of horses tangled together, a tidal wave pounded through the sewer!

[Dream!Noone yelps, wave approaches] 

NOONE: The wave was feet away when, [Wave is extremely close, ambience pauses minus the kids cheering] I finally understood. For the kids above, this was a blast. They waited and waited, unable to experience the wave’s power themselves, and that made them love it all the more. Snatching things that run from its path was part of their awful celebration. 

[Waves crashes down on Dream!Noone]

NOONE: The violent wave hit, sweeping me away, carrying me back through the maze of tunnels. I swam up and up, doing my best to surface, and just as I did,

[Splash, music suddenly calms. Dream!Noone gasping for air]

NOONE: The waves paused. My body no longer needed to swim. And the Candleman appeared, floating… on some kind of… broken door. 

OTTO: (distant, serious) Go through your encounter diligently. He holds the answers I- we need. Make no mistake: he is your tormentor. 

NOONE: (darkly) ‘m not sure that’s true. 

NOONE, narrating: This time, I was able to speak in his presence. 

Overlapping with Dream!Noone: “Why do you bring me here? What do you want?!”

NOONE: He replied,

FERRYMAN, ov. with NOONE: “Cross the sill. Sink in a twinkling. Cast aside the old sleep, to sleep again anew.”

NOONE: I yelled back (dream!Noone) “Why?! Why should I?!!” Before I finished he said,

FERRYMAN: “Blight. Not within, but without. Here, all banes be set free.”

OTTO: More riddles. He doesn’t think I can solve them, but I will-

NOONE: I already did. I think… he means by giving myself to his world, I won’t be ill any longer. That’s why… when I’m there, no more headaches. No more parasites. No more tests. 

OTTO: That’s not true, it’s not!

NOONE: [interrupting] I would almost prefer him to take me. 

OTTO: [Standing up] Don’t say that!

NOONE: Away from here. From yo–

OTTO: It’s what he wants!

NOONE: Maybe–

OTTO: He wants you!

NOONE: (yelling) Maybe your Cici felt that way too! Relieved! 

OTTO: [Angry shock, deep breaths] 

[Walking, door opens] 

OTTO: (whispering) No… (mumbling) I was only a boy…

[Wind picks up slightly in the background]

[Door creaks, click, audio cuts]

[Click, tape rewinding, click]

[Audio starts, storm continues in the background]

[Papers shifting. Door opens]

OTTO: We’re done tonight. Get out. To your room, go. 

[Papers rustling]

NOONE: (accusatory) What’s this?

OTTO: Nosing through my desk, were you?

NOONE: My name’s on it. It’s my scan, yes?

OTTO: Smart girl. 

NOONE: Wh… what does it tell?

OTTO: That you’ve got a mass. Growing on your brain- a tumor. 

NOONE: I knew it. The cure. …How bad is-

OTTO: A mass in your brain is never good. 

[Faint thunder]

NOONE: (about to cry) You should have told me. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?

OTTO: It’s not my practice to tell before necessary. Now, get. To. Bed. 

NOONE: …Fine. [Sniff]

[Storm continues]

NOONE, narrating: But after the Candleman spoke, the wave carried me by the maintenance room again. The Bag-Headed man looked through a window, terrified. He was– opposite to those kids above. Living down there, he– he’d no reason to celebrate the wave. Instead… he cherished what they dropped down by accident. 

NOONE: You see… each wanted what the other had. But could never have themselves. 

NOONE: I’m taking two sweets tonight. [Ceramic chime, wrappers]

OTTO: Take as many as you want and leave. 

[Ceramic click, audio cuts] 

[Audio starts]

[The storm is louder now]

OTTO: [Sigh]... 

OTTO: Perhaps I was cruel to tell her. But as she sleeps, I’ve been pondering the entry requisites specified by my professor. I believe he was only partly right. One need only to look at the theater of agony that the Ferryman’s created to understand fear, is an essential requirement. [threatening ambience starts] And I know better than anyone, a little fear can compel us towards discovery. 

OTTO: As for the gateway’s location, perhaps it’s not a place hidden in our world, but in our minds. Is it not possible that her tumor is somehow this unknown gateway? An organ of transcendence. 

OTTO: The apparatus may be unfinished, but its [unintelligible]*** monitor is functional. If she’s to cross over, in a “twinkling”, what choice do I have? In her words, you must try. 

[Click, audio cuts]

[Audio starts. A machine is running and Otto is typing something.]

OTTO: She hardly stirred at all while I pathed the BCI. 

[Beep, Otto stops typing. Something whirrs]

OTTO: All seems stable. As soon as her dreaming begins, the monitor should translate neurosignals into visualizations. 

NOONE: (half-asleep) Otto…

OTTO: Shhh, shsh…

NOONE: [Mumbling, starting to become distressed] 

OTTO: Shhh. Return to that sleep of yours. 

[Audio cuts]

[Audio starts. Machine is still going, storm is outside]

OTTO: It’s past midnight. She fought as long as she could, but finally succumbed. This is it. Show me, Noone. Show me the other side. 

[Noone mumbles, monitor turns on]

OTTO: Here we are. The image… a… kaleidoscope of black…

[Noone winces]

OTTO: An unnatural abyss…

[Noone winces repeatedly]

OTTO:  Wait- a shape. It’s difficult to see… [Noone] like looking through a negative mist. 

[Noone continues making noises of distress. Otto spots something]

OTTO: There! A silhouette! Ovular, splitting across the center– 

[Static rises and Otto yells in pain. Ambience is loud] 

OTTO: [Strained] It– it glares like the sun– [choking] No! A pupil! Near white! Oh god, it’s– it’s watching me! It’s watching me!

[Noone nearly yells in her sleep] 

[Whoosh, Otto yells, machine shuts off. Audio is muddled for a moment.]

OTTO: (very muffled) [Breathing heavily] Noone? [Gasp] Noone!

[Crashing, audio cuts]

[Outro plays] 

--------------

*I'm not super sure of what he says here since the door drowns him out

**I don't know how this is spelled

***According to text-to-speech, google, and autocorrect, what he says here is not a real word and I have no idea what it could be. All I know is that it ends in -graph.

[laithraihan]

Would you be comfortable sharing any personal info (age, profession, relationship status, etc...)? Completely understand if you're not but it's always really interesting learning about the lives of ppl I admire. Again, if that's not something you wanna do it's totally understandable! I love your art!!

Ah thank you so much 🫶 and sure I dont mind sharing some stuff but to be very honest Im not an interesting person, so I'm sorry in advance for disappointing you.

So I'm a woman (or something like that) even though I use a male pen name for art, Im 22 years old, 151cm (4'11"), the eldest daughter who has two teenage siblings who are both taller than me and make fun of me for being short. I do not have a profession and I do not go to school due to a disability I will not disclose. Im a lesbian engaged to a butch, we've been together for almost 4 years (our anniversary is in August)

My favorite season is winter because all the bugs are dead and I despise summer because the bugs are alive. Im also really scared of butterflies for some reason. Im scared of winged bugs in general. Ive never seen a cockroach in my life but I'd probably kill myself if I saw one. I really hate bugs. The winters are harsh here but I like walking outside when theres light snow falling at night. Im also a bit obsessed with Christmas lights but I dont celebrate Christmas, I dont follow any religion in general but my family is Muslim so Ive been raised with that. If I could just put Christmas lights in my room all year then I would do that. They look really pretty.

About my ethnicity I think everyone knows Im Algerian already, well Ive only been to Algeria once when I was like 8 years old so I dont really remember anything. All I know is that my uncle would keep telling my dad that I convinced him to stop smoking and that he's eternally grateful for that but I literally cannot remember what I did or said back then so I just pretended I knew what he was talking about. Anyway. Id like to go there again one day. I most likely will go soon in the future so it makes me happy to think about it.

My first language is French and Im somewhat fluent in English but it needs more work. Whenever I speak English I have to think harder about the words that come out of my mouth and I start saying things that dont make sense. But my pronunciation is good so other people just assume Im fluent. Also I understand Derja (Algerian Arabic) when people talk to me out loud but I cant form sentences and respond back so I just answer people in French. I know how to read Arabic script and I understand basic words but again I cant form sentences. As for Japanese I can only read Hiragana and Katakana and a bit of Kanji, and my understanding of the language is worse than Arabic, so I practice by translating Japanese song lyrics, reading news articles and talking with Japanese users online

Honestly I dunno what else to say, I dont really have any special skills or anything like that. Unless you count memorizing all the metro stations in Montreal but thats only because I had to use public transport all the time when I was a kid because my parents never felt like driving me to my appointments. At that point I probably visited every single station because I had to go to many random places. I dont have a drivers license but I prefer walking to places in general even though there are no stores near my neighborhood, but I think it's better for me because I get to walk more. I think I really like the idea of travelling in general but I dont have friends for that, my parents also wouldnt allow me to hang out with friends so it's a bit unfortunate

Oh and lately Ive been enjoying making eggs for some reason, I think Im good at doing that. But I only cook whenever Im hungry and I rarely feel hungry so I dont cook many eggs. I also dont like cleaning dishes so I avoid making huge meals in general. I dont really eat much in the first place but I still like food. I really like going to restaurants too. I just like going outside in general. I like listening to music and talking with people, normal stuff like that. Im running out of things to say so I'll probably just stop there.

[starrmarr]

Hi, I recognize something in you, all the old women in my life when I was a very young girl who carried themselves with so much dignity grace and sun and never bowed or cleaved their selves, you remind me of them so much but a younger version becoming them if that makes sense. I would be 3 or 4 years old looking up at them with love and being struck by their power and protection . I didn’t have my paternal or maternal grandmothers around me growing up and I long for that and seek it in every corner . I also no longer have those older women around to seek support or counsel from especially when I need it the most so I’m here asking you because for some reason I feel it . I had one last dream from my childhood which was to be with only one man for all of my life. I fell in love and gave myself to a man but now we are no longer together . He could be quite cruel to me. I cry and cry and all the spirits in my dreams look at me. I am drawn to your loneliness and devotion as I have been a similar way my whole life . My sister says my problem is that I stay bowing at the door of love. I am reaching out because in a way I hope maybe you can give me guidance . Thank you for being you

This is possibly the most important, and therefore challenging, ask I've received thus far-- so much so, I wrote my thoughts out on paper and asked God for a certain guidance to be able to reply to you. Sometimes I become so afraid at how I am perceived, afraid I'm doing myself a great damage by exposing tidbits of my inner world, or even by posting pictures of myself, all sexy and necessary-looking, enabling the frustrating tendency in others to only see my looks. My looks are my greatest mask, I feel as though they are separate from me, as ridiculous as that may seem. So when I am seen, really seen in this way, I remember this great purpose I cannot yet completely fathom. I give thanks because you have reminded me. I'll admit to slipping up all the time, more often than I'd like to, by attempts to quell that very loneliness that drew us together. Admitting this now made me realize that's all it is. Do not feel guilty. You are meant, still, to belong to one, even if that "one" is obscured and you have to sift through meaningless grains. First, however, you must belong to and be willing to sift through yourself, also. I have no sisters, biological or otherwise, and my mother often reminds me she is not my friend. I have felt so distributed as a consequence, so elastic, that I have also been subject to the whims of cruelty, wholly blinded by them, even. You owe it to yourself, despite this, to be resolute, to be firm in this your powerful conviction and revelation, especially in this time of such confusion and evil. Nothing worthwhile comes or is easy. You are naturally going to feel and even be alone because of this. Your problem is not your devotion or your willingness to bow-- the issue at hand is looking at yourself from a distance and giving into negative, fruitless judgment out of despair, it is but a clever parlor trick. The figures in your dreams are all you, gazing upon yourself, gentle woman, reminding you to clean house, to rise up, to maintain and persevere. We both have so much to unlearn, but have faith, fellow fine lady, for I see your becoming as you do mine. Thank you so much, message me whenever.

[liamobrienlove]

My MCM Comic Con Experience

Oh y'all, i have been wanting to talk about this to anyone who will listen haha Sorry this post is a bit late but it's been busy at work since i got home.

Where do i even begin? I met Liam! Still seems surreal even though i have photo evidence haha Let's just start with meeting him!

First up on the Saturday morning was meeting up with the amazing @formulares - who is amazinnnng btwwwww! had so much fun! 10/10 would recommend being friends with him lmao

Next it was time to get in and get in line for the Liam autograph! CR had their own section for autos which was great because the queues were SO LONG. Luckily, we were like 5th in line! When they all came out, the whole room erupted and the cast looked utterly amazed and completely taken a back with the turnout. Here starts the whole Liam experience haha I made Ares go first because i just couldn't and to watch is conversation with Liam was special. Liam is a special guy, i'll say that.

When i got to him, i was so nervous and he just made me feel like we were old friends. I gave him some letters i had to give and then the dice i'd brought him and he was so happy and rolled them! got a Nat 1 on his first roll but rerolled because halfling luck hehe and got a much better number! i then was able to tell him how much his characters and he have helped me through a lot in recent years and he was so grateful and wrote a lovely message on my print i was getting signed (which i'm not going to share yet as i will most likely be getting it as a tattoo) and then that was the end of the auto portion! when i went in for my photo with him, he remembered me! ahhhh and then we had the cutest picture and he gave me a bug cuddle as i was leaving. Liam is an amazing human, so kind, sweet and humble. I'm hoping i get to meet him again in the near future because truly, one of the best moments i've ever had.

Then i had photos with Travis (who was making sure to ask everyone their names and shake their hand before the photo) and was thanking everyone as well once they were done. it was so sweet!

I did have a Sam photo op but because i was anxious about not making it to my Taliesin one (sam's was the same time as Travis), i gave my photo ticket to Ares who had a great picture with Sam (who is really tall!). Next it was time to have my photo with Taliesin who is just a super sweet man and was wonderful! i love my photo with Taliesin so much! he was so excited to meet everyone!

Now, onto meeting Matt! Bear in mind i queued for three and a half hours to meet him. One thing i will say is MCM need to work on their queuing system because the line for matt was 4 people wide and just didn't seem to go down! By the time i got to the front i was emotional and overwhelmed and i think Matt could see that right off the bat. He shook my hand and asked my name and then we jumped into what was a very amazing and sweet conversation, where when i started to get emotional, Matt took hold of my hands (he's an utter sweetheart) and when i told him how much this show, this world had changed my life, he was just so receptive and so humble about it all and just amazing. Then he got up to give me a hug and it was so sweet of him - that man just adores every single person/fan. He spent time talking to every single person and stayed late to make sure everyone got to meet him.

i cannot begin to put into words how amazing they all were. From seeing Travis, Laura, Ashley, Marisha, Sam and Tal interact with everyone when standing in line, to how they were in photo ops - this cast are genuine and amazing. I count myself lucky to have been able to see them in person and cannot wait until i'm able to again in the future. I just adore them and it's an experience i will never, ever forget.

[starlightandsouls]

Hand In Hand, We Live

A/N: I cannot seem to get off the fluff train you guys, all the sweetness is rotting my brain. I hope you like this small thing. Do let me know what you think of my writing. Please please comment, it keeps me going

Takes place in the 1+1=4 universe but can be read as a standalone

..............................................................................................

Azriel POV...

There had been few things in his long, long life that had been able to bring Velaris’s infamous Shadowsinger to tears. His ruthless attitude and stoicism was what made Azriel so good at his job. There were few people who saw through that mask of his; his brothers, his mother. But even they were always kept at a distance. Then, you came into his life. And oh so slowly you began to chip away that cold exterior of his until he surrendered his heart to you completely.

And just when he had thought his life couldn’t possibly get any better, the Mother had blessed the two of them with twin children, Mikhail and Annalise, their little miracles. Not only because of how rare it was for Fae to conceive, but also because of the hardships they had faced afterwards, mainly Beron and his plotting, miserable ass. Thankfully, that pig had been disposed off soon after. With Eris as High Lord and his alliance with Rhysand, Azriel was assured that their children would grow up in a somewhat safer world.

Their little blessings were almost two years old now, the darlings of not only their parents but also of the entire Inner Circle. Therefore, they were no less spoilt. Like today, Mikhail has been whisked off with Cassian and Rhysand. The two of them often kidnapped their children to buy them more toys than they had space to keep. Anna, however, had been a little moody today, unwilling to go with the uncles she usually doted on. Like her father, she was often overwhelmed with people and needed time to recharge. Since he had nothing to do for the day, he had stayed home with his daughter, even sending you off for some shopping with Feyre and Nesta, knowing you also deserved some time to relax.

Now, as we return to the matter at hand, Azriel rarely cried. The last time he remembered crying was at his mating ceremony and then when his precious children were born. The most recent case of tears, it seemed, would take place today.

After bathing her and feeding her, he had taken her to his room to try and get her to sleep. His little angel seemed particularly restless today. So now Azriel was sitting against the headboard in bed, with his knees pulled up and Anna's back resting against them. No matter, how much time passed he was still amazed by his children, unable to believe that someone like him would be blessed by such perfect miracles. Every time he held Mikhail or looked into Anna’s eyes he teared up.

As he cooed at Anna’s babbles, he tickled her tummy which caused her to erupt into a fit of giggles, the sound more beautiful to him than any symphony ever could be. As he laughed along her, Anna grabbed his hand in hers. The sight made his breath catch. Anytime he saw his marred hands against her smooth, soft skin, he felt like collapsing. The memory of what he had done his entire life resurfaced as he held such innocent children in his arms.

He’s pulled back from his memories as Anna ran her hand across the scars and ridges that riddled his hands; the hideous sight not deterring her one bit. She pulled his hand up with both of hers, turning it over as if seeing it for the first time. Completing her inspection, she put his hand up against her face and rested her hand against his palm, all the time smiling up at him.

Her glistening hazel eyes, mirroring his own, gazing up at him with that gorgeous smile of hers, was enough to bring Azriel to tears. His heart had never felt as full as it did now. He had hated his hands his entire life, finding them too ugly, too sinful to ever accept. Regardless of what his family and his mate had worked to reassure him over the long time he had known them, Azriel still harboured some resentment for his burnt hands. But in this moment, he could swear he had never loved them more than he did now, with his daughter resting against them.

Seeing her father’s tears rolling freely down his face, Anna flicked her head to the side, trying to figure out what was ailing her dad. Being unable to understand, she took matters into her own hands, and crawled over on her father’s chest. Reaching him, she wiped her tiny hands on his face, rubbing away any tears left. Anna then once again smiled up at him, feeling proud of her work. Azriel only shook his head, and pulled her against his chest.

You had come home to find both father and daughter snuggled up together, fast asleep. And when Mikhail returned, the two of you joined them as well. With his family in his arms, what more could Azriel want.

.................................................................................

The next time little Anna made her father cry was when she had turned eight. Even still so young, both his children were exceptionally bright, a fact he took much pride in. Both had their own hobbies that they loved partaking in.

They were currently at the House of Wind, visiting Nesta and Cassian. Mikhail was off play wrestling with Cass while Anna was busy being doted on by her Aunts. Just as he was about to go find Rhysand, Anna ran over to where he was sitting and jumped to his lap.

“Dada I made you something,” Annalise said, gazing up at him with her big, doe eyes, her sweet smile adorning her face.

“Did you, my little star?” he offered in return. Anna nodded her head as she went on,

“I made them with Auntie Gwyn.”

From the pocket of her jacket, she then procures two friendship bracelets. Both of them were identical, consisting of blue (presumably for his siphons) and pink, which was Annalise’s favourite colour. She took his hand in his and tied it around his wrist, putting her own on as well.

Anna then took his hand and put it side by side with hers, admiring her work.

“See, Dada. Now we’re the same,” his little angel said, as if the most obvious thing in the world.

Azriel only wiped away his tears and gave his Anna a reassuring smile,

And the simple statement from his innocent, brilliant daughter was enough to bring tears to his eyes. It was shocking to Azriel how his children found his scars to be as much a part of him as anything else, never finding them hideous or scary. It was true as well. Little Anna had never found them ugly at all. And there was a simple reason for it as well; to her they were just her father’s hands. The same hands which would comfort her during a thunderstorm, the same hands which taught her how to walk and then fly, the same hands that helped her tickle her brother whenever they all sat together. Deep down she knew, even then, that those hands would be the first to catch her whenever she would stumble in life.

“Yes, darling. We’re the same.”

From that day onwards, Azriel wore that bracelet that his daughter made for him every single day. To trainings to meetings to dinners to missions. It was a reminder of his family that waited for him at home, of his daughter who he loved more than his own life. It was a rather disconcerting sight; seeing the feared Shadowsinger wear around a pink bracelet. But the few idiots who had ever questioned him about it, now warned everyone else. Because no one made fun of his daughter’s work and got away with it.

So Azriel continued wearing it, often taking it to Gwyn for repairs when the threads started to fray, because he trusted no one but the expert with this precious item. Seeing it on his wrist everyday would remind him of the unconditional love his children had for him, and the eternal devotion he had to them. Anna and Mikhail taking his hand in theirs for comfort made him slowly let go of his resentment of his scars. Hand in hand, he learned to love and accept them, forever grateful for you and their children for teaching him that everyone deserved to be loved; even the scarred and broken.