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risuola · 5 months

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VI — YOU HAVE MY HEART — F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

It's so easy to love you and it's even easier to admire how hardworking you are. You trained and became strong, you assisted in creating the ANBU leading the first unit. You were the pride and joy in Tobirama's life, but with all of that came also the fear. The terror of losing you.

cw: not much, it's mostly fluffy. it gets a little steamy towards the end, so reader discretion is advised — 2,5k words

note: when I was translating this chapter, I realized that the timeline can be a little blurry, though I tried to make it as clear as possible, but I'll summarize this here quickly: one year has passed since the wedding until the events from chapter V, then one year she was training and working in ANBU and then the mission took another year. so it's three years since they married ❥

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sometimes, you felt like you and Tobirama were meant to be. Like this whole arranged, political agreement was planned somewhere by someone who has way more power than you’d think, because even after nearly three years with that man, you still find it difficult to understand how on earth you worked so well when it’s more than clear that you shouldn’t.

There were just too many differences between you and your husband. He’s cold and stoic whilst you are warm and bubbly. Your calmness doesn’t make a fraction of how calm he is, or rather, used to be. You loved to touch him and for his entire life, Senju faltered from physical contact. And yet, all of it changed, when you stepped into his life. A princess from the foreign village, a diamond that was kept in the cage made of gold and luxury, a bird that was yearning for freedom and safety. Tobirama gave you both of these things.

The feelings between you two only solidified after the incident in your homeland. It’s almost two years after the unfortunate chain of events that led the young Senju to leave the negotiations in Konoha to save you from abusive ritual that took place in Yu; a pathetic display of parenting that your father thought was a favor to your husband. After that, and the little time you needed to heal completely with a help of one of the best medics in the leaf village, you had made a decision to go back to training. Ever since you moved, you spent your time learning topography of your new home, befriending people, helping – none of which you put into your own development and it’s only after you were defeated so easily, it got to you that everything that you thought you knew was not even a fraction what you should be able to execute.

That’s why for the months after that, you trained – mostly by yourself, but Tobirama was more than happy to help you anytime he had some spare hours. He found you admirable, the way you wanted to become the best shinobi possible even though there was no need for that. You were excellent even before, the idea of you lacking never crossed his mind and yet you stood up for the challenge and it was in his best interest to help you achieve the goal. You were, after all, his beloved wife, his sunshine, his pride. Quickly, it turned out that on top of all these things, you were quite deadly.

You began taking missions, standing on top of a group consisting of the best ninja from Konoha – ANBU, as Tobirama called it. A set of exceptional individuals, the most skilled ones available. It was a project that Senju wished to finalize, it was meant to provide the village with safety, with the strong asset able to infiltrate, fight and protect and you… You became the leader of it, representing the highest skill of them all and supporting him in establishing the unit.

Tobirama found you incredible, time after time finding himself in awe because of your achievements. There was no such term as impossibility, it seemed, everything he assigned you with, you finished with success, caring about your team well-being and the quality of the process. As much as he felt the endless amount of pride, his heart was also filled with fear. The idea of losing you haunted his dreams anytime you were outside Konoha, dealing with something he himself ordered you. The contradicting feelings weighed heavy on his shoulders – he wished to keep you safe and yet, it was only fair to give you tasks that were relevant to what you were able to do. It would be against his nature to spare you the difficulties, to limit your progress only because of the selfish want of keeping you far from harm. That led him to assigning you with one of the most difficult missions he had to offer.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” he had told you the day before. You remember him joining you in bed late at night and the way he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest was enough of a hint. You knew him well. “I don’t want you to take that mission,” honest as always, and nervous when he spoke quietly. His roughed-up fingertips were circling little ovals against the delicate skin over your spine, his hand buried underneath the shirt that you used to sleep in.

“I know,” you replied, pressing your lips to his bare chest. Oh, how well you knew him. The moment he gave you the details of the job earlier that day in his office, you already knew how hesitant he was and once you read the description, you understood why. “But it’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“How can you promise me something like that?” He found his way to your chin, lifting your head up just enough to look you in the eyes. “I know you are strong, you are the most skilled ninja I have, don’t think I’m underestimating you, love. But yet, I can’t help but fear, the idea of you not coming back from that job, from something I send you by my own order… it feels unbearable to think.”

Tobirama wasn’t a man that’s easily scared. In your entire time with him, spending so much time as his wife, you saw him worried at most, only few times so it shook you deeply, seeing his sincere eyes glaring at you in nothing but concern. The soft red shade of them looked straight through your soul, you could feel the way his jaw was tensed when you placed your hand on the side of his handsome face.

“I will come back to you, my lord. I know how dangerous the mission is and I would be lying if I told you that I’m not scared of it. But I also know how important it is, how crucial the data I need to gather is to keep Konoha safe and it is my duty to serve the village. It’s my home, I swore to keep it protected.” Your words were honest, Senju knew that. It was difficult, the hidden leaf stood on the verge of war, it was nearly palpable in the air and the information that you were meant to collect had a power to stop it before the blood of innocents was spilled.

The love you developed to Konoha was something Tobirama couldn’t help but admire in you. Despite it being a foreign land to you, you grew to care of it as if you lived here since the beginning. Truth is, you did feel like you were born in it. What hidden leaf gave you was freedom, was love. It showered you in things that before that, you only silently dreamt about, it was a place that you truly began being yourself, hence why you wished to give it back all of yourself.

“I know you’re gonna do your best. It’s just… I wouldn’t mind standing to fight later if you’d say you don’t want to take the job. I wouldn’t mind giving my life in battle if it could save yours.”

“Your life is too precious to be lost, Tobirama,” you leaned into him just slightly, your lips a breath away from his. “You are needed, you are so incredibly fundamental for this village to function properly, you have no idea. Without you, there would be no Konoha, doesn’t matter how great of a hokage your brother is. You are what makes this place a home to so many people, you are the mind and heart of it, so please don’t say such things.”

“It’s you who have my heart. If I have to risk losing it along with you, how could I be one for the village?” Senju exhaled, closing his eyes for a brief moment before closing the distance and pressing his mouth to yours. A kiss of love that’s indescribable, it bore everything that he was too afraid to word out loud. “Just… come back to me.”

“I will always come back to you, my love.”

The reassurance you gave, although carrying uncertainty, you followed with yet another kiss. The intimacy you shared later that night carried an unspoken goodbye, it was intense and oh so full of passion as if it was the last time you were to be so close.

Early in the morning, you were already gone, heading towards the unknown land where you were meant to spend the next weeks, working undercover. In the morning, Tobirama watched you leave, hating himself for letting you go as the sweet taste of the last kiss you shared still lingered over his lips.

* * *

“Later,” Tobirama groaned, responding to the soft sound of knocking against the wooden doors to his office. He was busy, digging through copious amounts of documents and reports, annoyed to the very core of his existence. His mind was already far in the future, balls deep in the upcoming negotiations that were meant to take place in Konoha in just few days. They were important, the safety of the village depended on the results and Tobirama made it very, very clear that unless the matter is absolutely, death-threatening urgent, he’s unavailable to anyone.

But the knob twisted and despite his objections and rough tone the doors opened and he couldn’t help but scoff. His blood was boiling, his brows creasing and even the deep breath he took, trying to calm down his nerves didn’t help at all. The rage inside of him burned with hellfire, it got him out of his chair, smashing his fist on the desk.

“I said fucking late—” he stopped. The sight of you, standing there in the entrance to his office made his voice catch in his throat. Was he even breathing? He felt like the world faded away, time slowed down and the chaos inside his mind calmed in an instant when his eyes met yours. He couldn’t believe, were you really here? In the last report he’s got from you, the one from a month prior, you wrote that at least twelve weeks will be needed to finalize the job and yet here you were, standing just few meters in front of him. After a year.

“I heard you the first time, my lord,” you chuckled softly, watching how his expression changed from rageful annoyance to surprised confusion. It was a display of emotions you were yet to familiarize yourself with, giving Tobirama’s spare range of expressions. “I was told you’re busy and expecting no one to bother you, but I took the freedom to disobey.”

The Senju stood there, flabbergasted for a little longer before his head dropped. A wave of laughter that shook his body made all of his tension go away. You really were there, he could see you, feel your chakra. After long, twelve months of undercover mission he gave you, the one that required you to stay in Iwagakure, gathering intel of governmental nature you finally got back. You had not seen each other during that time and Tobirama had only received few letters from you, all of which being more like short reports about the mission status rather than lover’s notes. But now, you were here, safe, alive.

“You came back,” he said, his voice so much lighter than what he greeted you with. Tobirama took a second to look at his desk, assessing the piles of documents before he pushed everything to the side. Papers flew off and scrolls unraveled on the floor but he couldn't possibly care less about any of those, when you were here, finally after a year of absence, in a flesh and bones. Being so messy was unlikely of him, you had never met someone more organized than Tobirama, but to him, it was more important to now have you on this desk, rather than documents.

“I promised I’ll come back to you, didn’t I?” You smiled, pushing the doors closed behind you and approaching him, placing the box with all of the reports and information regarding your latest work on the floor, before you circled the furniture, meeting him finally.

“You did,” he replied, finding his way to press his lips to yours. His large hands pulled you closer by the back of your neck and you hooked your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in the silver strands of his hair, scratching his scalp gently and causing him to purr into the kiss. It tasted sweet, addicting, with the longing being carried through every movement of his lips and tongue. It was heavy with feelings, breathtaking, nearly suffocating with how much it bore, how many unspoken words, how many worries that were now releasing. Tobirama pulled you towards himself, your body now flush to his own as he made you lean against the edge of his desk. It took no time before you were situated on top of it, with his large frame between your legs and his hands wandering all over the lines of your figure.

Tobirama was hungry. He had no idea how much until he saw you, until he tasted you. You taught him how to love, you opened the world of intimacy and touch to him, you showed him the pleasure of marriage and once you took all of it away, he was lost. The need to have you close was unfulfilled for such a long time where he couldn’t even see you, it left him with the burn of craving inside his chest. He was incomplete without you, unable to focus as much as he would usually do, his mind was wandering to the places where your image was stored.

“I missed you so much, my love,” you whimpered, feeling his lips smearing the wet traces of kisses along your neck and down your throat. At that moment, he was not caring about the marks he was leaving, he wanted to make you his own again. Nothing else mattered, only you, the taste of your mouth, the sweet scent of your skin. He would love to be more romantic, to welcome you with something more appropriate – a nice dinner, some pretty flowers, but being romantic was never his strong suit and frankly, things like bouquets and food were last on his mind, when he had you near his body.

“Love,” he groaned against your pulse, his hands making contact with the bare skin on your sides where he pushed the fabric of your black blouse up. He missed you so damn much. His body longed for your touch, for your skin flush to his, for everything that came with you.

“I thought you were busy, my dearest,” you teased, your voice soft and playful as you run your hand down his stomach. It was risky to do so in his office but he did nothing to prevent you from reaching his manhood and as you did, you stroked him gently through the fabric of his pants. A breath hitched in his chest, your touch burned him with lust, he felt like a fire was consuming him just because you put your touch over him.

“I am,” he muttered, sucking a spot onto your neck, reminding your body to whom it belongs to and you gasped softly at the feeling of his lips against your delicate skin. “God, I’m so damn busy.”

» NEXT PART

TAGLIST: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog

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hexed-padlock · 7 months

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Thinking about how elves can reincarnate. What if there are a few individuals besides elves that have a similar ability. Take our dear Tav for example. What if in a past life, they were a great Artificer. Nowadays, they’ve settled for a simpler life alongside their beloved Astarion. What Astarion doesn’t know, however, is that his partner has been working on a special ring for him. Tav went on a small journey without Astarion to look for the Cloak of Dragomir, study it’s enchantments, and create a ring that has the cloak’s enchantments but is able mitigates its negative effects. It takes them months, and the one year anniversary of saving Baldur’s Gate is fast approaching. The last month is spent in a haze of furious work, getting the ring done just in time. They’re always away, spending long hours getting everything perfect. Gale and Tav have been spending a lot of time together researching and working on the ring as a team.

Then the one year anniversary of the Absolute’s defeat comes around. The whole city is in a joyous mood, a massive festival is set to run all throughout the night.

The old gang is back together, standing by the docks once again. It’s dark, but sunrise is just a few minutes away. Tav is by Gale’s side, and he hands them a box with the ring inside.

Astarion sees Gale hand Tav something as Tav gives him a peck on the cheek in thanks. Ah, so this is why Tav’s been so distant lately. He sulks in a corner, self-loathing taking hold. But Tav bounds over, grabs his hands and pulls him out of the shadows.

Astarion looked at their happy expression, noting that daylight was coming. Is this how this’d end? Burning in the sunlight as the love of his life leaves him for that damned wizard? He looks away, refusing to meet Tav’s eyes.

Tav finally registers the expression on his face as guilt grips them. “Love, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if you felt like I neglected you, but all this was for our future. Please look at me.” Hours spent perfecting a gift for him were still hours spent away from his side, they kept it a secret, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

“Starlight, my beautiful night sky. Please.”

And he finally looks at them, and they’re on their knees, holding a box out, a ring with a single glowing stone shining out in the darkness.

“Astarion Ancunin, my love, will you marry me?”

Astarion stares, awe, disbelief, confusion, all warring inside him—But above it all, relief, fear, and love.

Breathless, he whispers, “Yes.”

Tav slips the ring on and pulls him into a kiss, just as the first rays of sunlight bathe the city in a golden glow. Astarion panics for a moment, trying to find shade, before he feels only the warm caress of the sun, and the gentle touch of his lover.

The party once stood upon these docks as the wreckage of the city lay around them, incomplete and fractured as Astarion disappeared into the shadows and Karlach vanished back into Avernus. It was a solemn celebration. Now, they were all finally together, standing in the glorious light of a bright future as the rebuilt city celebrates it’s continued freedom.

The future is bright and the world is so full of color.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 post game #astarion x tav #astarion x tav bg3 #im sobbing goodbye #marriage proposal fic #bg3 fic #astarion fic #bg3 spoilers #short fic??#baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav

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a-d-nox · 11 months

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web of wyrd: the outer numbers and their potential meaning for your year ahead

tw: mentions of death/suicide

the outer rim of the wyrd web foretells the themes of our year ahead. today i will be covering some basic topics that people tend to wonder about the future - that being said, these are basic premises; in no way does one number mean a single thing. each number can mean different things - multiple things. your lack of a number correlated with an experience below does not mean to minimize your experience with the topics (e.g., you had a child but don't have the number, you lost someone important to you but don't have the number, etc.) these are simply my observations (also observations are not destined to be true, they are simply possibilities / increased odds).

indicators that are important for love/relationships

5 (the institution of marriage -> getting married)

6 (meeting an important life partner)

13 (double edged sword looking at the death card - signifies change in relationship status OR it could be a new beginning in a relationship)

19 (renewing vow for preexisting love)

21 (a new phase in a relationship)

22 (a new beginning in the relationship)

indicators of having a child

1 (connecting a new spirit with the physical realm)

2 (a symbol of fertility)

3 (another symbol of fertility)

8 (the flower chain - an umbilical cord - connects two beings)

10 (again connecting a new spirit with the physical realm)

12 (the hanged man is sort of in cephalic presentation, which is the position babies are born in for most vaginal births)

14 (a promising sign for people who struggle with fertility)

19 (it's literally a kid on a pony on this card lol)

21 (the completion of a cycle - full 9 months of pregnancy might even have a late birth compared to due date)

22 (a new adventure - parenthood - begins)

indicators of career change

1 (good for starting your own business)

4 (stepping into a leadership role)

5 (moving up the ladder in your career OR going back to school to study)

6 (having beneficial coworker / business partner OR doing what you love)

10 (new job opportunities OR getting a raise or big bonus)

13 (a big change in what you previously were doing)

16 (changing career path completely and finding a new way of earning money that you pervious hadn't explored)

17 (finding a new job after struggling for a long time to find one)

21 (getting a raise)

indicators of loss

2 (the end of a life cycle and seeing the reality of change/time)

9 (the image of age)

10 (the end / a shift in a life cycle)

12 (peaceful but unexpected loss - this is not always a suicide indicator)

13 (the death of a beloved relative - you'll probably struggle with their death/passing)

16 (a sudden/tragic death)

20 (peaceful and expected loss - typically sick/elderly individuals in your life)

21 (the end of a life cycle)

indicators of moving/traveling

1 (the magician has all his stuff laid out in front of him - he is packing or unpacking)

7 (could indicate a moving truck OR travel in general)

9 (moving out on your own OR going on a long term trip)

13 (leaving a home you've lived in for a long time OR taking a life changing trip)

19 (going somewhere you never have been before)

21 (again going somewhere you have never been before OR moving after living somewhere a long time)

22 (moving somewhere far away OR going on a trip with short (spontaneous trip) notice)

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yourwitchybrother · 16 days

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Apollo, My Beloved

Perhaps I couldn't wait any longer before I finally addressed my beloved patron and godspouse. Both of which are terms I will define in this post. Apollo has been part of my life, well... since birth! Being my Patron, he has been around for all of it. He's seen me at my best and at my worst, he's seen me through my relationships and my hardships. He saw me through my hardest moments, through the easier times, and through the trauma I've faced.

So yeah. He and I are pretty close. Let's get into it, this is going to be a long one.

Who is Apollo? ☀

I have heard Apollo referred to as the God of many things, and this description of him is not incorrect as much as it is a gross minimization of the things he takes Godly precedence over. He is the god of:

The Sun; Light; Poetry; Music and the Arts; Healing / Medicine; Plagues; Knowledge; Order; Prophecy; Truth; A God of Beauty; Agriculture; and Archery.

Some of these things are not as well known as others, and there are absolutely some things missing from that list. Again. He rules over a lot of things.

Apollo, in my life, has been more present as the God of music and the arts, and prophecy. A major part of my practice is the art of prophecy and divination, the concept of time and the future. Of course, I do not have as much time as I would like to delve fully into the concept of time as much as I'd like, but I still like to dip my toes into the concept of prophecy. It took me a while to accept the fact that prophecies do, in fact, exist, and they are things that can be accessed by someone who is not the Oracle at Delphi.

Apollo is also known for having many lovers and, more nuanced, has been claimed as a patron God of Queer individuals. He has had his fair share of gay lovers himself, and in fact, is quite known for having a series of lovers who have then turned into plants. For example:

Hyacinthus, who was turned into a Hyacinth. Daphne, who was turned into a Laurel tree. Cyparissus, who was (unwillingly) turned into a Cyprus Tree.

At a certain point, it is almost comical.

Apollo, as a Worshipper and Devotee.

Of course, everyone starts somewhere. And for a good portion of my practice, I started as a worshipper and devotee of Apollo. This meant that I was dedicating certain acts to him and gifting him little trinkets and leaving him offerings. My favorite instance was when I left him a pack of cookies for about a month. After a month, I went to eat them as to not waste them. The cookies gave me static and shocked me. Apollo and I had a conversation about boundaries following this.

I have been devoted to Apollo my whole life, I like to say. Ever since I could improperly hold utensils within my digits, I drew on things. When I first learned how to make illegible sounds, I sang. When I learned how to create poorly worded poetry, I crafted it. By no means am I a lyrical genius or a poet laureate. In fact, I'm horrible at writing song lyrics and I have only ever written one catchy verse, and in all my years of playing Ukulele, I have never been able to play and sing until November of last year.

However, in my early childhood, leading up to college, I was nearly prodigal when it came to musical instruments. I graduated high school knowing how to play clarinet, bass clarinet, saxophone, flute, xylophone, euphonium (my favorite), bass guitar, acoustic guitar, ukulele, trumpet, trombone, and kalimba. I'm sure there are people out there who know more instruments, but all things considered, this is a damn collection of instruments that I'm pretty okay at. In 8th grade I was the back-up singer in my military schools rock band, I was the acoustic guitarist.

I've also been acting for about 9 years (I'm about to be 20), which is a good portion of my sentient and cognisant life. I've done work both on stage and off, but yet still have not managed to be in a musical. They scare me.

Not to mention my history with other forms of art. In fifth grade, I painted a still life that was elected and ended up in a local art gallery. In the first week of May, one of my photos from study abroad was selected as being the best in its category and I won a prize. My history teacher hung a drawing I did of her daughter in the classroom because she adored it so much. However, that may have just been because it was a picture of her daughter.

This laundry list of artistic endeavors is not meant to be a flex or a brag. It's meant to showcase my extensive history in the arts and my devotion to Apollo. He has been an important part of my life. Before every performance, I pray to him. Before every concert, I'd ask him to send me humility and patience. Before every drawing, I ask Apollo for inspiration and a dash of creative whimsy. I also say hi to the sun every morning, wishing him a good morning while I drink my morning coffee.

Apollo, as my Patron.

As my patron, Apollo is my biggest mentor. He is there for me through thick and thin. When the going gets tough. I know I can lean on and rely on him.

My mother calls me Sunshine (my hair sticks up and gets all frizzy, and so she calls me Sunshine because she considers my hair to be rays), she always has. This is reflective of Apollo's presence in my life, in my opinion. A little ray of the sunshine that he emits.

But back to the mentor thing. Apollo has always been someone I can look to whenever I need guidance. Whether that means consulting the cards and asking him for some guidance, or using a pendulum and having an asinine round of "is that a yes or a no" with him, or him sending me a sign.

Very recently, I asked him for a sign that he's still there. That he hasn't gone anywhere or left me. I asked him to send me something bright orange, out of the ordinary, that I wouldn't expect to see. About two days later, at the beach, one of the friends we had been waiting on shows up wearing a bright orange dress. And I mean neon. And she never wears bright colors like that.

But, enough hyperspecific personal anecdotes. If I keep going, this post would be an autobiography.

Apollo, as a patron, is a very hyper and mischievous guide and mentor. He will say things that don't make sense in the moment, but will eventually make sense. He likes his riddles. He likes his complex-meaning messages. That is why it's important to write things down, of course.

Apollo, as a Godspouse.

So, let me start with the definition of a Godspouse. A godspousal to a God, Goddess, or any divine being with the intention to devote yourself to them wholly and fully for the rest of your life. This can look like a lot of things. It can be entirely platonic, it can be romantic, it can be a continuous boss-employee work style relationship, pretty much anything. The only difference between this and a normal worship or working relationship is that it is sort of binding. It is not a light decision to make, and it should be a decision you make after years of already devoting yourself to the divine being.

I am of the unpopular belief that you can start deity work at any time during your practice, not just later on. Apollo started my practice with me, and I am of the firm belief that I only understood parts of my practice and have made so much progress with his assistance. It obviously depends on the deity you work with, which deities you accept help from, and who you let into your life. But this is an entirely separate post for another time. Apollo and I have developed a strong, firm bond over the past 10 years. And in the grand scheme of my practice, we've been godspoused for only a short while.

Our relationship is more of a romantic kind, in the sense that we have our affectionate nicknames for one another (he calls me his songbird and sunbeam, and I call him Sunspot / my sunlight). We flirt back and forth and send one another gifts (I, in the form of offerings, and he, in the form of signs and literal gifts through people in my life). It's a sweet little give-and-take we have. My end goal, though, is to become a sort of oracle for Apollo. Again, this loops back to my obsession with time and prophecy.

The End (Finally)

If you read all of that, you rock! Apollo is important to me and he has left a major imprint in my life. He is a major source of light for me and to not ramble about him this much would be a cardinal sin of which I would have to repent for. Plus, he loves and adores attention. But I will stop running my mouth. As usual, if you have any questions or requests, feel free to comment them here or submit an ask via my tumblr. Blessed be, may the sun be your guide! A domani!

#apollo devotee #hellenic pagan #paganism #witchblr #eclectic witch #hellenic worship #paganblr #apollo deity #your witchy brother #apollo #apollon deity #apollon worship #godspouse #godspousal #patron deity #pagan witch #deity work #pagans of tumblr #pagan

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avelera · 9 months

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Maintaining Scope of Violence in Your Story's World

I saw an interesting discussion in the Baldur's Gate 3 subreddit, commenting how a player's immersion was broken when a version of the player character, known as "The Dark Urge", is apparently to blame for a particularly brutal murder and yet the companion characters don't turn on him/her/them immediately. The commenter was baffled given the brutality of the killing. Yet many replies pointed out that other members of the party are also murderers or tapdancing on the edge of committing atrocities, not to mention other mitigating circumstances that it would be spoilers to go into.

This got me thinking about scope of violence in genre fiction and how, on top of all the other difficult jobs the writer has before them, establishing what level of violence is "commonplace" vs "shocking" can be a surprisingly delicate process.

(Cut for length. Includes references to Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, John Wick, and NBC's Hannibal in an exploration of how to establish the scope and scale of on-screen violence. TW for discussions of violence against children in shows like GoT and HotD, though it is largely in abstract terms.)

I'm reminded of "House of the Dragon" (HotD) which, I must confess, I found to have rather patchy and uneven writing.

One moment in HotD that I found rather dissonant, shall we say, was when a child of the nobility loses his eye in a brawl with other children. His mother, an aristocrat, is understandably horrified and enraged. However, some of the threats she makes to equally powerful Houses over the incident feel, dare I say, disproportionate to the event, given that her threats could lead to the world as she knows it being plunged into civil war, all over what amounts to a tussle between children, albeit one that ends in a particularly gruesome manner.

On the one hand, any modern mother likely would completely freak out at such an appalling injury as a lost eye from a knife fight between children. That would be a major shock to a modern community, where such violence is quite rare. And in fairness, the aristocrats of the world of "Game of Thrones" and HotD by extension are largely insulated by their privilege from the day to day violence we see portrayed in the series. If anyone was realistically going to have a modern response to a child's maiming, it would be the sheltered daughter of a noble house with regards to her beloved child.

However, as understandable as her reaction might be to modern viewers and to those who take into account her sheltered upbringing, in my mind, the show's narrative wobbled there in terms of establishing the level of violence that is considered commonplace in the world of HotD/GoT. In the first season of Game of Thrones, we famously saw a child pushed out of a window, permanently disabled and left in a coma for months, and while this is a major event that creates a great deal of tension and conflict, ultimately the family after their attempts at individual revenge the fact is they can't start a civil war over this single event. So in a way we're sort of left with: this is just a thing that happens that we have to suck up and deal with, even if certain individuals might wish to and continue to pursue a personal vendetta. Couple that with commoner children being murdered and the deaths going completely unremarked upon by wider society, we're left with the impression of a world in which brutality, even brutality against children which would grind a modern community to a halt, is simply an ugly and relatively common part of life. A life with so much ugliness and personal violence that it really almost gets lost amidst all the other horrors.

Which makes the HotD mother's reaction feel... disproportionate. Not in relation to her child's suffering, which is entirely understandable, but her view of what retaliation constitutes a proportional response comes across as hysterical. Too modern. Children are horrifically injured in the GoT/HotD world all the time. Frankly, by comparison, a lost eye is almost minor compared to a loss of mobility in a rigorously martial world, access to which Bran lost with his fall. We don't get as good of a set up of what the conflicting morals of this world are, we don't get the comparison between commoner and noble children as clearly as in GoT, we don't really get all the conflicting views of "When is it normal to start a civil war over a child's injury?" - the sense of scope and scale of violence and how we and the characters are supposed to react to it... wobbles.

Along these lines, I've also pointed out that in shows like NBC's Hannibal, the show is scrupulously careful about not really referencing global events like wars. In my mind, there's a simple reason for that. Your average drone attack on civilians in the Middle East kills more innocent people by accident than Hannibal Lecter has ever killed in his entire murderous career. Compared to weapons of war, one murderous serial killer is barely a rounding error in terms of death and human suffering. So the show has to remain almost claustrophobically intimate so we never get confronted with the "So what?" of the individual death and human suffering Hannibal and the other serial killers bring about on a very close, personal basis. The horror style is meant to force us to imagine ourselves if we were the victims (or the killer) in these incredibly intimate murders. If our suffering was writ large. If every individual death was massively significant. But this is in contrast with real world mass casualty events which would dwarf many times all of the deaths in the Hannibal show combined.

As a final example, the moment the first season of "True Detective" lost me was when the value of a single life also wobbled dramatically. The conceit of the show is that a single murder, or a half dozen at most, murders of young white women is worthy of a major, multi-year investigation. Yet when the investigation inadvertently leads to an outbreak of violence in a predominantly black community, shown almost immediately to kill more people (in front of their children, even) than were lost in the entire murder spree of white women that's being investigated, the show didn't seem to care at all. Individual white female victims were worthy of a breathless investigation into their untimely loss, but twice that number of black people killed in an outbreak of violence directly linked to the investigation didn't even seem worthy of commentary or reflection at all. The value of a single human life was no longer consistent. If these deaths aren't worthy of justice, then why should I care about the few individual deaths being investigated?

As with any measuring of scope in fiction, it's very hard for the author to do alone. It really is an instance where an outside pair of eyes is incredibly valuable.

But things to keep in mind while crafting a narrative around violence is just how much are readers or viewers supposed to be alarmed by individual acts of violence. It's common and indeed necessary for modern media to establish the rules of its world. Even stories nominally set in "our" world actually do almost as much worldbuilding as any fantasy tale in this respect. In a cop drama where each episode is built around a single murder, we need to inhabit a world where a single murder is worthy of dozens of people spending time and resources bringing the killer to justice. In such a world, a mass casualty event of several deaths should be shocking. To this end, like in NBC's Hannibal, it's probably best to avoid mentions of mass casualty events caused by war or natural disasters.

By contrast, an action film like John Wick might place less value on individual deaths (beyond the motivating deaths of a single dog, which is thoroughly commented on within the story as feeling disproportionate and therein lies much of what makes the plot so unique. I'd argue it is also the cutest dog ever born, but I digress). We're not going to see a lurid headline, "John Wick murders 26 local men in cold blood, read about this tragic loss along with quotes by their devastated wives and children on page 6". To a certain extent, the violence there is meant to be just shocking enough to thrill, but we're not meant to get too invested in the details of the actual body count.

And, to go even more extreme, in war or disaster movies, we see or have narrated that thousands have died at a time. Again, to go back to Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon, one reason it's hard to see the mother's reaction to her child's maiming as anything but a bit disproportionate is because we see with such brutality hundreds if not thousands of men, women, and children dying directly or indirectly as a result of war. While it's understandable that a mother would burn the world down for an injury to her child, we're not well placed to agree with or sympathize with her reactions on the broader scale, in terms of retribution that would lead to war, against a backdrop of brutal mass casualty events in the thousands where even more families are devastated and more children injured or killed.

As a final, positive word on the Game of Thrones universe, the early seasons of the GoT were actually very good at controlling the audience's reaction to the scope of violence. Namely, the Battle of the Blackwater sticks out in my mind. The world of GoT is so grounded in the mud, in ugly, personal but intimate violence done with hands or blades, otherwise rudimentary weapons, that the first time we see an explosion on a near-modern scale feels as genuinely breathtaking to modern eyes as it might have to the Medieval-eseque eyes of that world. Yet there are movies chock-full of explosions where the explosions lose impact and importance, become background noise, because they're simply one of many. By rigorously tamping down and limiting the scope and type of violence to largely hand to hand combat, Game of Thrones set up a moment where modern warfare-style explosions are awe-inspiring. Against that backdrop, the appearance of fire-breathing dragons on the battlefield is also arresting, though their capabilities would likely be dwarfed by a modern fighter jet and many viewers of GoT would be familiar with films where the scope and scale of violence is much bigger and more explosive. It feels big in GoT because the scope and scale has been so small to that point.

Once you as a writer have established the modernity of your violence, the scope and scale of it, the average body count, the importance of a single human life, it's important to stick to it. If a character has a differing view, then they should be noted as having it by the narrative. A grizzled war veteran might shrug at a small town murder investigation of a single individual, but a sleepy town might lose its mind over it. In the modern world, the lives of children are put on the highest pedestal, but once you establish in your world that some children's lives are of lower value, then showing a mother act with an understandable modern sensibility of horror and outrage still needs to be commented on so we understand where her reaction falls within her society, especially if it's in contrast. That is what teaches us how to watch and appreciate the narrative choices as they're meant to be appreciated.

#writing #maggie rambles

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saturnbellfromhell · 1 year

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THE ENERGY OF THE SUN

One of the first posts on my Tumblr was about the Moon and all her feminine glory. How she is bold, yet mysterious, cunny, yet delicate, powerful yet soft. In today's post we speak of the the star of the show, literally. Our beloved Sun which shins brightly threw our windows kissing the Moon goodbye. For another day is to appear on the horizon, for that it brings serotonin into our body and bliss into our hearts. The Sun has been talked about, written about, sang about and worshipped for as long as life has existed on our planet. It is the masculine to the Moons feminine with whom he has created a small family consisting of a son Mars, the planet of action, a daughter Venus, the planet of beauty and a androgynous child Mercury, planet of communication. Together with their energies they rule all that is seen. The primary family of our solar system and where raw energy is bred. This star flows in the middle of our system, where it shins every millimeter, not leaving anything hidden. For it's master it has chosen Leo. A fiery and noble fixed sign which represents the king of all creatures. Leo's are in the middle of our favorite season, Summer. Where the Sun has impregnated our crops and bears fresh food to our table. When the hottest months appear, so does a infant Leo. Being the master of such a powerful and complex star, Leo's have a lot on their hands.

~Leo's are in the center of all, unironically they are mostly hated for such behavior. But in reality they literally cannot help it. It's what comes natural to these people. When the Sun shines on you, you have very little to hide. Every accomplishment is met with large praise, but every downfall is met by huge dissaprovement and judgment. So Leo's have to form a larger ego than others to survive such things out in the world. In their home life they love their family and partner to the core. Being loyal to the grave for them and not letting anyone lay a finger on them. They are the leaders of the pack, the grandiose caregivers of their own family. What they crave is affection and attention, but they also want this for all their loved one's. Even if a courageous Leo becomes a star, he is more than willing to put his loved one in the spot light. Remember that meme of Will Smith showing off Jada Pinket Smith on the red carpet, yep that's what a Leo would do (which is funny, because Will Smith is a Leo rising).

~Other than a Leo's love and loyalty, they are such prideful people. Rarely will you hear a Leo dirty talk themselves. They are also known to be overachievers, ambitious and throughout. These individuals are the emotional one in the fire sign group. They long for freedom and change, love and devotion, praise and respect.

~The bad caracteristic of a Leo comes from being a fixed sign by itself. Fixed signs are known to be very stubborn and fixed, literally, on their beliefs and ideas. It's quite hard getting a Leo to change it's routine, try something new or have it any other way they imagined it. Leo's are the one who want control over their life and decisions, so don't bother changing it. They will treat you like a God or Godess, but be sure to not act like you are better than them. They can also have a longer tongue than what it needs to be, even moreso if Mercury is in a fire sign, the Leo will never hold back his words. By doing so, Leo will have to learn to bend their back sometimes, bringing more harmony into their life.

~A Leo's house is eccentric and loud, just like them. They adore random pictures, figurines and small touches of pazaz. If living with a Leo be sure to let go and let them do their thing, I mean they do have good taste at the end of the day. The metal gold is what catches their eyes, they also adore shiny anything and diamonds. Their style is everso changing, whatever they wear the most important accessory is their confidence. With main-like hair and a wild look in their eyes they take the world by storm.

~If not sure somebody is a Leo, do not worry, for they will tell you themselves. The chatty Leo is sure to tell you all about their hobbies, achievements and goals and be sure they will go to great strengths to better all of them. People find it hard to follow up and true Leo and by doing so become bitter towards them a lot of the time. But what they don't acknowledge is that Leo's would be over the moon exited to grab someone and put them under their wing.

~Even though a Sun is meant for and it is it domicile, in detriment it falls on a weird Aquarius. Aquarians are not meant for the spotlight for they are the ruler of others, the humanitarian of the group. It is all about other and not about themselves for this a wise lesson to be learned from a Leo and also a wise lesson to be taught to a Leo. Exaltation lands it's place to a baby Aries which has much to learn but feels at peace by holding the crown. A fun way to look at exaltations if you are not familiar is looking at it like making a feist. The Leo gets everything done, the collecting, planning, organizing, preparing and cooking, but the Aries just shows up and enjoyes the feist making everyone welcome and happy. The energy of the Sun is primal and welcoming, playful and flavourful, exiting and concious, strong and delightful, but not for anybody!

~Where the Sun resigns is in the 5th house, the house of complite hedonism, creation and joy. It's the house where romance lives and where all passion and love accurs. It defins our adoration for children and where our inner child finds it's playground. This house is all about the fun and amusing aspects of life governing games and hobbies, sex and creative acts, self expression and relationships. Even though the 7th house is called the house of partnerships, this house is how things flow in a relationships. How sex and sexuality is embedded in the individual. The 7th house moreso has to do with the functions in a relationship afterwards, like a marriage. The 5th house also represents the enjoyment before the purge and structure in the 6th house. So you can look at the 5th house as maturing into a relationship, the 6th house as self improvement and the 7th as the stepping stone into the new world where solidarity is not common anymore. After the 7th house we look at our life and relations as a collective, not so much as an individual. For everyone must learn a lesson from every house and lord to become a better person, not only for themselves, but for the whole world.

~Leo teaches us to have a good time, not be bothered by accidents, expand our knowledge, fight for our ideas and enjoy being human in a very raw form.

~Planets that are welcome in a Leo's home include Jupiter, who expands this house, bringing luck and optimism into our hobbies and relationships. The Moon, bringing a firm duality into the picture, here the Moon will cater to intuition and desires into a natives personal and love life. Mercury will also be welcomed with a smile on Leo's doorstep, bringing new communication skills to the table and a driven Mars to activate all that is said above...and of course a lovely Venus to bring a seductive manner.

~But not all feel at home here... like Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto

~Saturn in the 5th house

A cold planet in a warm house is always a no go. Here Saturn cannot find any discipline nor structure nor valuable time. With a prominent Saturn in the 5th house individuals can have a hard time with playful and spontaneous acts. They can also have a great fear of losing oneself to others and not wanting to open up and try new things. By doing so they can feel like they have some sort of curse put on them, where life doesn't flow like it does for others. This placement can also indicate harder views on sex, where people feel like they are obligated or pushed to be intimate. Saturn here also delays children and stable relationships. Many with this placement can also feel downgraded and only find happiness in a steady career. This a very stressful position for Saturn with many expectations.

~Uranus in the 5th house

Uranus is all about surprises and novelty. It's a Aqurian planet. As said above Sun is in detriment when in Aquarius, so of course this can govern troublesome events into the 5th house. This can indicate a unexpected/unplanned relationship or pregnancy by all means. Uranus can also make it hard for the native to stay in relationships since he chooses freedom over all. It can also mean that a native finds independence through a lover or partner. They need a lot of security in love to strive.

~Neptune in the 7th house

In a woman's chart this can be a indicator of hidden romances for the native, since Neptune is a planet of dreams and the "outer world". This can indicate a lot of unfufiled desires and wants that are not being met since the native cannot express himself/herself directly. Love where a Neptune resides in the 5th house needs to be soft and tender with a highlight on mysterious sex. Since this house is about creativity, Neptune here helps the person becoming more dreamy about anything, such as acting.

~Pluto in the 8th house

This one is a tough one. Pluto is very transformative and needs a lot of space to get his point across. It governs all that is away, death, the darkness, rebirth, endings..etc. So not a very fun planet for a whimsical 5th house. With Pluto here it can have a very rigid and formal approach to life. You don't have a very carefree and easy going life. This placement can also mean a native can fall victim into a power struggle and feel guilty about intimacy. It can bring a lot of mental and health struggles into their life aswell. A very understanding partner is needed with a Pluto in the 5th house native.

#leo sun #sun in astrology #sun energy #leo energy #5th house #saturn in the 5th house #fire signs #fixed signs #astrology #astrology observations #zodiac #astro observations #questions #beauty #pluto astrology #neptune #neptune in 5th house #fifth house

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manjiroscum · 2 years

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pregnancy diaries: teddy bear

summary: the journey of motherhood is never easy from the first morning sickness to when the water suddenly breaks. such precious yet arduous nine months deserve to be recorded for memories.

character/s: bonten!sanzu haruchiyo

warnings: f!reader, mature language, pregnant sex, attempts of sexual assault (not by sanzu), light angst, reader gets anxious a lot, pregnancy, mentions of murder, blood, canon typical violence, mentions of past drug use, sanzu keeps weapons in his house, sanzu tries to be a good husband and father, ooc sanzu (?), lots of fluff, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

masterlist

wc: 4.9k

note: this entry is dedicated to bby cat @sanzucide 😚💖

MONTH 0: WEEK 2

My dear baby peanut,

A kind old lady I met at a bakery told me to write down my thoughts about you as you grow in my tummy. She said that you might like to read my journey with you one day and I couldn't help but feel happy at the idea of it. No words can describe how excited your father and I are to see you. I was quite surprised when I found out that you’re here—our precious miracle. I swear by the stars that shine that I’ll protect you as fiercely as I can, even if it is against those who I love for you deserve everything good life has to offer. Please, please stay healthy and well inside there. I’ll do anything for it to stay that way.

I love you, my precious starlight.

Strong arms were wrapped around your trembling body. The same arms that you missed sleeping in last night for your husband went missing once you broke the news to him about your pregnancy. Sanzu Haruchiyo was—still is—a very closed-off individual since you met him. Rarely does he indulge you with his troubled thoughts or those scenarios that bother him enough to stay awake during the late hours. You figured, as his wife, he wouldn’t be so shy about sharing his fears with you.

But when it came to special and sensitive matters, like how you wanted a baby and failed multiple times, your beloved husband was sometimes a lost cause. You couldn’t really blame him for it either, having isolated himself from his own family due to his own personal reasons he dare not say aloud. Still, you couldn’t bare the responsibility alone, scared to death that he might leave you with the baby and decide not to be a part of raising it.

Yet, Haruchiyo wasn’t that cruel to do that to you—his love and the only piece of heaven in a land that reeks of death and betrayal. To do so would be akin to dying.

“Please… Don’t cry, baby. I’m sorry,” Sanzu sighed into your hair, eyes closed in exhaustion and sorrow for the stress he has caused you in the last few hours. He knows he should do more than console you through words. Beg or kneel for your forgiveness. “I’m sorry. Sorry I did that… I’m sorry I made you worry, baby. It won’t happen again. I, uh… I got so overwhelmed at the thought of becoming a father and needed fresh air—”

An angel you were. No one else could compare to your bountiful mercy and love. Normally, anyone in your situation would ask him to go. You were content to cry, two of your clenched fists banged against his chest. It never dealt much damage, unlike the tears that streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed. Haruchiyo really messed up this time. “I-Idiot! Idiot Haru! All you had to do was tell me that! Not disappear on me like that… I was so worried sick—”

“I know, baby. I know.” His arms pulled you close once again, embracing your trembling form as try and steady yourself. Your husband couldn’t help but feel anger towards his actions. He should do better—never make you cry like this again. “I’m sorry… I love you, yeah? Do you know that I love you, mhm? Baby stop crying, what will peanut think if he hears you?” At the cute nickname he gave the baby, you blinked back the tears and glanced up at him in surprise.

“Peanut?”

MONTH 1: WEEK 5

Hello, baby peanut,

Your papa is such a sweet man. You might say it is impossible to see or disagree once you’re older, but he truly is. Today, we went to check how you are and we’re so happy you’re making yourself comfortable inside. Whatever you want to eat, I’ll make sure you can taste it, yeah? Even if it is weird. Plus, your uncle Takeomi asked about you when I visited your papa at work. He might seem like an aloof man but he is good. Your papa says he is better than your uncle at everything but I can’t testify to that. What I do know is that your papa is a hard-working man. He tried to assemble your crib today and it was a funny sight. Don’t tell him that though, okay?

I love you, peanut. Keep growing!

“Are you even sure it’s gonna be a boy?”

Rindou’s question stayed hanging in the air due to Haruchiyo not listening to his colleague. The walls were recently painted in the hue of baby blue by your husband, leading the visitor to question why. Tongue stuck in between his lips, your husband was too caught up in reading the steps written on the flimsy paper about assembling the crib you two bought the other day to pay the younger Haitani any attention. Rindou must’ve realized this and sighed, shaking his head before diverting his gaze at you. You merely laughed at his curious stare.

“It might be. Haruchiyo is quite sure, though. Says he can ‘sense’ it.”

The younger Haitani couldn’t stop the strange expression twisting his handsome face at what that implied. “He… can ‘sense’ it? What the fuck does that even mean? And why name your baby after a nut?” Those purple irises threw your husband a suspicious look, slightly tilting his head to the side. “Are you… on drugs again?”

Concentration snapped into two, Haruchiyo glared at Rindou at the accusing tone. “Hey, what the fuck are you talkin’ about? I’ve been clean for two years. My mind is perfectly working.” His finger reached up to pull down his eyelid and stuck out his tongue. “You’re just jealous I can sense that my baby is gonna be a boy. What’s the matter, Rinny? Having a hard time conceiving boys like Ran? Perhaps you should fuckin’ check if your balls are broken or if it runs in the family.”

You ignored the banter occurring in front of you, content at sitting by the side. Whatever his reasons were for being able to tell his child would be a boy, it is still endearing to hear. And somewhere, deep in your heart, you wished Haruchiyo’s intuition would come true. Your hand reached down to caress your belly, mouth parting as you lightly scold Haruchiyo not to antagonize Ran’s brother any further.

MONTH 2: WEEK 7

My lil’ peanut,

I tried to convince your papa the other day to write an entry in this journal for you. He refused because he was afraid he’d mess it up which I don't think will happen. Your papa has been extra careful lately that sometimes I wonder if he is the one carrying you or me. I can’t blame him, though. You are our miracle baby.

Can you hear him humming at night? I don’t know if listening to Mozart will make you smarter and where your papa heard that tidbit from, but I just hope you like the music if you do hear it. It calms my nerves and fears of what has yet to come.

I can’t wait to have you in my arms, darling.

Tonight's dinner was flushed down the drain while you brushed your teeth. Whether it was because of what you ate or how you have been going around the house nonstop to clean the apartment that made you dizzy, your nausea got too much. Haruchiyo’s tall frame was leaning against the bathroom door’s frame, worry etched on his equally tired features after a whole day of running to and fro for another grand scheme of Bonten. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows slightly. As much as you wanted him to stay and be here with you all the time, it would be quite selfish. And yet, the thought of going into labor without him by your side would be an absolute nightmare. The crime organization didn't really have some sort of paternity leave and you were sure your husband would rather shoot himself than ask Mikey for it.

“You okay?”

Nodding at Haruchiyo’s reflection in the mirror, you then shot him a weak smile. “I’m alright. Just… tired of puking.” In hopes of lifting the solemn mood, you poked your tongue out. “I guess little peanut didn’t like the pasta.” You took an empty cup and filled it with water, about to gargle the last bit of your vomit’s aftertaste until you felt arms wrapping around your torso and a warm chest pressed against your back. Your eyes glanced up to meet Haruchiyo’s gaze through the mirror.

“Peanut should learn not to be picky about his food.”

“I was only kidding, Haru,” you whispered, leaning back on him. “The pregnancy is making me nauseous.”

Nuzzling his chin on your shoulder, your husband laughed softly, the puff of air released was ticklish on your neck. “I know, baby. I know. I just don’t like seeing you vomit since you just ate. I’m worried that you’re gonna get sick or something. Do you wanna order something? That favorite cafe of yours is still open at this hour. How about some cupcakes, mhm? Or maybe you wanna get cheesecake?”

At the mention of sweet desserts, your eyes perked up and a smile spread across your lips. “Sure, not gonna say no to cupcakes. Let me finish gargling then we can order, okay?”

MONTH 3: WEEK 9

My dear peanut,

I have to be honest… I’ve been afraid of what kind of world you’ll be growing up in. It is no secret what your papa does and I am fully aware of the possibilities that may happen in the near future. Your papa has been nothing but kind to me. He may have his ups and downs, yet that is part of being human. The people he has to deal with, on the other hand, are not so good…

Still, I swear that I’ll keep you safe. Your papa and I will keep you away from harm's way as best as we could. It may sound pointless, but as long as I live and you cannot defend yourself, I will always protect you.

I love you so much, my sweet peanut.

Iron. The smell of blood wasn’t overpowering yet it somehow invaded and assaulted your nostrils. But the scent akin to rust was not the most overwhelming thing to experience at this very moment. Fists meeting the pervert’s face with a sickening crack and the crimson liquid dripping from the man’s lips were nothing compared to the murderous look painted across your husband’s face. His heart that was hammering earlier out of worry and fear was not beating to the thunderous tune of rage and vengeance. He can’t believe someone really tried to touch his pregnant wife on his own turf, much less a nobody who was only thinking with his dick. All you could do was heave a heavy sigh and continue to look away as the man’s limp body was dragged out of the room.

The new recruit, whatever possessed him to try and touch a Bonten member’s wife, was surely regretting it now—wherever his pathetic soul is. Frankly, neither you nor Sanzu cared.

Haruchiyo never noticed your form shivering until he embraced you, his lips in a grim line while he inhaled your familiar scent he got so used to waking up that it would be torture to never be able to smell it again. Any bastard who tries to harm you and his son should be prepared to receive his undiluted wrath. That man was just an example of what he can do and a glimpse of what he can do more if anyone would be stupid enough to mess with him.

“You’re okay, baby. I’m here. No one will try to fuckin’ touch you again.”

“T-that fucker…”

You supposed you were as insane as him at this point—any mother would probably result to the same way of thinking after going through this. Images of the man burning and wailing in agony filled your mind while you clung to Haruchiyo. The unwanted touching and disgusting words that were thrown at you weren’t the horrifying part of this whole ordeal. Compared to that, the insults he hurled at you the second he saw you were pregnant made you sick. The ride to your husband’s office for a simple desire to eat lunch with Haruchiyo with that creep was a long one that was filled with suffering until those metal doors opened. The heavens definitely answered your prayers when Haruchiyo was waiting for you by the elevator, hoping to welcome you with arms open only to see you trying to push away the sicko. The rest was history.

“H-Haru, it happened so fast and I was so scared—”

“Shh, I got you. He won’t hurt you anymore,” he whispered into your hair. “Remember? I’ll always keep you and peanut safe. Nothing will harm you or the baby, okay? I’m sorry you had to experience that, baby… I’ll cut off those filthy hands and burn them. Would you like to see that, babe?”

MONTH 4: WEEK 15

My darlin’ peanut,

Your papa is ecstatic. I supposed anyone will be once the baby’s gender is revealed but your papa is beyond that. He has been busy buzzing around buying you baby clothes and toys. And yet, when I asked him if he wanted to reveal the gender to his friends… I guess I can’t go into detail about what he actually said to me. However, it goes along the lines of wanting to keep it to himself for now.

The doctor was smiling weakly the entire time we listened to your heartbeat because your papa was glaring at him until the sound of your beating heart echoed around the room. I admit I shed a few tears. Some mothers had the idea of keeping the sonogram pictures of their babies in their wallets for good luck. I’ve asked yours to be printed a lot because I know I’ll be placing them all over the house. You’ve grown quite big, peanut.

I can’t wait to see you soon, love.

Haruchiyo couldn’t stop grinning. Even when he was in the same room as Mikey and the other members of Bonten, he had to hide the curl of his lips with his hand so Ran or Rindou wouldn’t tease him. However, he can’t help it. Soon, his good mood was news to the entire staff in the building. Those who knew him well were aware of your pregnancy and weren’t all that surprised. The people who didn’t, on the other hand, were living in total fear that Bonten’s number two may have lost his mind and could go on a killing spree when provoked.

“Are you gonna tell them tomorrow?” you questioned softly. Upon hearing no reply from your husband, you glanced in the direction of pink and stifled a giggle at the sight. Sanzu Haruchiyo, the fierce second in command of Bonten who has slitted far more throats and is known for being the most ruthless one, was giggling softly at the photo of his baby’s sonogram. To say Haruchiyo was ecstatic over the confirmation that his baby was a boy isn’t enough to be a description.

He’s fucking over the moon.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?” Haruchiyo still couldn’t put down the photo, his eyes clear as day while staring at the black and white photo. He can’t take his eyes off of it. Did he and you really make such a cute baby? Haruchiyo couldn’t believe he was going to be a dad in a few more months. Will the baby look like you? Or him? Your husband’s lips stretched even more at the thought. “What is it?”

Adoring the scene, you turned back to the sizzling meal you were making for two. It will be for three in a couple of months. You couldn’t wait for that day, smiling at what that meant.

“Nothing, babe.”

MONTH 5: WEEK 18

My baby peanut,

Your room is ready and filled to the brim with things you might need. It’s almost as if you’re already here. Your papa said that if you’re not a good boy, he’ll take away all your toys and exchange them for boring posters compelling nutrition posters to encourage you to eat vegetables. He’s very funny.

The other day, we were looking to buy strollers and your very own car seat. I’m too embarrassed to go back to the store after weeping at the sight of those cute items. Your papa merely laughed so I hit him on the back for doing so. Peanut, whenever a lady cries or feels sad, comfort her. Okay?

Love you!

“Are you still mad?” Haruchiyo slightly winced at the cold expression you shot at him, instantly regretting his actions earlier. Silly as it may be, he knew your irritation was amplified due to the hormones and shouldn’t be messed with. You normally would have laughed when he teased you, but today wasn’t like those days. His hand reaching out to you was ignored when you brushed past him in the direction of the bathroom. Scratching his chin, your husband tailed behind you akin to a lost puppy while a stream of apologies ran out of his mouth. To shut the door on his face would be too harsh so you spun to face him before entering, surprising him a bit. To tease your husband, however, was another story.

“Haru, I have to be frank,” you muttered, putting on the best face you can that could be the epitome of disappointment. “I may take this as good fun, but for you to merely laugh at me earlier… it hurt my feelings.” Hands reaching up to cover your eyes that were void of tears, you could tell Haruchiyo was starting to panic. He did vow he will never make you cry again or be the reason for the waterworks. Especially now that you were experiencing mood swings due to the pregnancy. For him to see you start showing signs of weeping had your husband at the tip of his toes, hoping for you to forgive him. The last thing he wanted was to sleep on the cold couch tonight.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would make you feel sad—look, if it makes you feel better, I can buy you anything. Or maybe a massage? Do you want a massage? I’ll massage your feet and back, plus do all the dishes this month. Please—” he paused in his ramble the second the first laugh slipped past your lips. It wasn’t soon before Haruchiyo figured out you were messing with him, crossing his arms across his chest while observing you laugh with your arms around your tummy. He couldn’t believe he fell for your tricks. You didn’t even notice him leaving until you heard the door to your bedroom closed shut.

“Haru? Come on, I was just kiddin’! You were laughing at me earlier and I couldn’t help but tease you. I love you, okay?”

MONTH 6: WEEK 23

Darling peanut,

You are growing bigger and stronger inside that I can’t help but cry. The doctor said I might feel you kicking soon and your papa is looking forward to it. It still amazes me that you’ll be coming out soon and I’ll be meeting you.

I saw a shooting star the other day. Your papa was already snoring on the couch to see it while we were in the middle of watching an old film and I was slightly bored. I wished for you to come out healthy. That is all I want.

Haruchiyo took a clean towel from the nightstand to wipe off the sweat dripping down your forehead, unable to take his eyes off of your belly and the undeniable glow your face had. His free hand even refused to move from its spot on the obvious bump, rubbing on it softly. His cock twitched at the idea of getting you pregnant again, which did not go unnoticed by you since he was still inside your creamed pussy after sex. Gentle and slightly afraid he’ll hurt the baby, your husband has been nothing but the sweetest. Even after marriage, Haruchiyo was still doting. Fears of him leaving you for another woman and giving up on the relationship did haunt you all those years where nothing significant happened. Perhaps it’s human to think that way.

Your husband did not understand why you had such thoughts, kissing every worry away from your face so soothingly as if he didn’t just paint your gummy walls white that it oozed out the moment his flaccid cock slipped out of your pussy with a small pop. He was mesmerized at the lewd sight that his cock was twitching, growing hard once again. You felt it too, groaning at how eager he is. Haruchiyo was sheepish.

“Sorry, I can’t get enough of you, baby.”

“Haru, I’m tired…”

“You sure you’re not up for another round?” he mumbled into your ear, slowly grinding his cock now half-mast against your thigh. “You tend to get needy whenever I’m just about to fall asleep.” When you shook your head, he pouted. “I’m not gonna offer the same thing once we’re finished bathing even if you ask me nicely, pretty.”

Playfully glaring at him, you lightly scoffed. “Really? How sure are you?” Not waiting for a response, you got up and sauntered over to the bathroom while making sure not to hide the way his semen ran down your legs. You gave your entranced husband a glance and cheekily gestured for him to follow you. Damn your depleted energy, teasing him is always a fun challenge. “You’re not opposed to washing my back without touching me down there, right?”

MONTH 7: WEEK 26

My adorable peanut,

I hope you are well. Sometimes I get surprised whenever I feel you kick, especially when I eat. Your papa said it is silly to worry that you might be kicking a lot during meals because you didn’t like the taste of them. I can’t help but wonder about it.

Whenever you kick, your adorable papa comes running to check. He’s like a puppy, but don’t tell him that. He might worry his colleagues will think the same way. I’m just confident in writing it down here ‘cause I know he doesn’t read what I write here. Something about privacy and that this journal should be read by you. He really cares about you, peanut.

We both love you so much, baby.

“Do you think we should babyproof that room?”

Haruchiyo glanced up from polishing his katana, his eyes following your line of gaze to the one room where he kept all his guns and other dangerous things. At your suggestion, your husband couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Come on, babe. There’s no way an infant could even enter there. I keep it locked at all times, ‘ya know? Besides, once he does grow older, we’ll move to a bigger place. I’d want one with three bathrooms.”

The talks of moving once you had a kid were not strange to this household. Even back then when you were still struggling with conceiving, Haruchiyo was already open to moving out of the apartment once the kid was big enough. There wasn’t anything wrong with the current apartment, but you do wish to have more space for the child and that it was nearby a school. However, there was his job at Bonten to consider. Moving out meant he would be further away from headquarters and that might not suit well with him.

“You sure? I mean, about moving.”

Haruchiyo was back to polishing the blade, nodding at your words. “Yeah, it’s totally fine, babe. We can’t stay in this apartment forever, plus there are better apartments or penthouses out there where peanut can run around freely. If you don’t wanna live in a building, we can always get a house. It’s no big deal.” Hearing no response from you, his attention shifted to your form, and raised a brow. “What? Did… I say something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. Do you think peanut is gonna be such an active kid?” The grin on your face never faltered as you listened to Haruchiyo ramble away on how his son would probably be a menace if he had too much sugar.

MONTH 8: WEEK 30

Hi sweet peanut,

You’re definitely not as small as a peanut now, that’s for sure. You’ve grown so much that it is making me a bit emotional. I often hear mothers saying that children grow so fast that if you don’t look hard enough, you’ll never notice it. I’m a bit terrified that I might do something wrong, specifically in raising you. Reading books and watching videos on motherhood sometimes call me down, but experience always varies.

I don’t know about your papa and his fears. All I do know is that he might be sharing the same thoughts as I am. We both have never tried raising a kid before and taking care of someone else’s is a different thing. I just hope the two of us manage to pull it off and be the best parents we can be for you.

I love you so, so much.

Haruchiyo sighed. This was the fifth time this week that you couldn’t stop fussing around. He knew it was because the due date is dawning nearer and nearer as the weeks go by, but he was worried you might burn a hole on the carpet with your pacing. Ever since you started experiencing Braxton Hicks, you couldn’t help but grow anxious. No matter how many times he had consoled you, that these were normal as the doctor said, you can’t help but feel scared. Scared that something will go wrong.

“Baby, please sit down. It’ll be much better for you to just relax, yeah?” he said, reaching up to stop you in your tracks before pulling you down to sit next to him. Thankfully, you complied but the concern for your son was still swirling in your mind. “Hey, look at me, babe. Babe.”

“Y-yeah?” you mumbled, meeting his eyes immediately. The television playing in the background white noise in your march of apprehension that lasted much longer than the previous ones. Your gaze was then blocked by a shock of pink, your husband hugging you. “Haru, what—”

“I hate seeing you like this. Makes me feel fucking weak, to be honest.” Haruchiyo whispered, his hand running soothing circles on your back while the other was on your huge belly. Just as you were about to ask him why when he beat you to it. “I don’t know how to make you feel better. I’m not the pregnant one here, yet I understand why you’re so worried. Still, we should have fate on little peanut, yeah? And you should listen to your doctor. You should be relaxing—no, you should be resting a lot. I’ll do everything now, okay? I’m sure Mikey won’t mind me being absent. Let me do this, okay? Let me take care of you and tell me about your problems. I won’t laugh at you.”

“Haru…” As if his words were some spell, you relaxed into his chest. Eyes shut, you took in deep breaths before nodding. “Alright, yeah… I’m sorry for worrying you. Didn’t mean to make you feel this way…”

“Don’t apologize, baby. We did promise to do this together.”

MONTH 9: WEEK 39

My peanut,

This is your papa. You will probably notice due to the change of font. Your mama wanted me to write something here. I don’t know why but writing something in this journal seems… weird. Don’t get your papa wrong, but I’m used to reading the entries than writing on them. My curiosity gets the better of me so don’t tell your mama I’ve read most of what she wrote her. Ugh, it’s probably pointless ‘cause I’m sure she’ll see this. Anyway, it has been a long journey of keeping you and your mama safe. I won’t trade those days, good or bad, for anything. Your uncle and cousins are looking forward to seeing you, too. Don’t let them intimidate you.

Very excited to see you, little man. Come out soon, but not too soon, okay? Be kind to your mama.

Takeomi left the room, giving you and Haruchiyo privacy after saying hello to your bouncing baby boy now sleeping soundly in his father’s arms. The solemnity of the space lifted the moment Haruchiyo entered the room, sweat evident in his temples at the long hours he waited outside during your delivery. Hearing your muffled screams brought him on edge, wondering what was happening behind closed doors and whether peanut was alright. When the wait was over, he immediately rushed to where you and his son were. Takeomi followed behind with a small smile. It was a miracle his younger brother agreed to see the new addition to the family, although he was suspecting it was because of you.

“He’s so tiny,” your husband whispered, gently rocking the baby. “Look at his cute fucking nose and those cheeks—we should make more babies. I wanna give peanut a sister.” Ignoring the way you let out a sigh and mutter that giving birth wasn’t easy, Haruchiyo continued to coo at the baby. The smile on his face matched yours, happier than the first day you discovered you were having his baby. The teddy bear Takeomi bought as a gift sat on top of the hospital’s bedside cabinet, mirroring the unexplainable joy on both of your faces.

taglist: @bunnyjiros @chronic-claire-universe @wakaslut @ranilingus @eroscastle @tobidabio @zuuki @chloee0x0 @leavemealonebutinpink @kamisoria @keijisprettygirl @httphaitani @marism @stffychn @riszu @tokyometronetwork @festive

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20forty9 · 2 months

Text

I Didn't Mean To Haunt You

Chapter VI - Smiling At The Ground

Summary : Maheas is getting irritated from his lack of progress, meanwhile Venick is a natural at whatever she picks up in her hands. This time, he pushes things too far. A new player joins the game in your life! You find yourself getting attached to him very quickly. You share a moment of tenderness with Nanami and Haibara. Meanwhile, Gojo is haunted by nightmares.

Word Count : 7.8k

Contains : Vague representations/allusions of sexual abuse, disturbing imagery (?), gross scenes (descriptive vomiting), etc. Let me know if I missed anything

Pairings : Gojo Satoru/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Nanami Kento/Reader, Yu Haibara/Reader, Everyone/Reader (Reverse Harem)

Cross-posted on Ao3

A/N : Vomiting will become more of a theme throughout the story, sorry LMFAO. Thanks Ethel Cain and Elita for that I guess. Also, good golly gee a quote that isn’t inherently about curiousity?? Fourty are you feeling alright???? Also I’m not a swordmaster so I apologize for any inaccuracies on my uh. sword swinging or whatchamacallit. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I put sweat and tears into this chapter. Sorry it's a bit late! I had planned to post it Friday or yesterday but half the chapter got suddenly deleted out of nowhere so I had to rewrite it from my memory and notes.

All bleeding eventually stops. ~ Jeffrey M. Goller M.D.

More time passes by for the spirit, Maheas and Venick without much excitement. Days seem to blur into one, the repetitive schedule rarely being interrupted ever since the rumours about defectors turned out to be true. Security around the area became more tight, and the ever watchful eye of Suliman never truly disappeared; to avoid punishment, the spirit continued the training of the two kids without any delay.

It notices that they’re both improving their fighting capabilities quite well for such a short period of time – Venick especially. She has a natural aptitude for it, nearly immediately adapting to whatever weapon is given to her. Whether it can be attributed to her sheer will or the possibility of a technique, the spirit must admit she is talented. Though, even throughout all of this, her beloved bow is still her favourite weapon of choice. She doesn’t use it nearly as much as before, but it always lays in the grass with the rest of their belongings, not too far away from where they train.

However, Maheas is slower to adjust to different weapons and scenarios. And ever since he was able to land that blow on the spirit that particular night, he hasn’t been able to do it since then.

And unfortunately, he’s too aware of this fact. When he can’t get the weapon or scenario down correctly within the first hour, he considers it to be a complete failure, and gets incredibly irritated, then moves onto something else. Inevitably, the cycle continues, and the spirit notices that Maheas is stuck in a constant loop of anger and irritability.

It all comes to a breaking point on a sunny day – one of the last overbearingly warm days that fall has to offer before the refreshing cool permanently sets in for the upcoming months. The spirit is sweating profusely from having both kids attack it at once; an exercise for them to learn how to work together as a team instead of individually.

Venick and Maheas are both using a weapon neither of them have ever tried, but of course Venick is an absolute natural at using the katana, however the latter struggles to hold it properly. As Maheas brings his arms down to swing his weapon down, his grip on the handle wavers slightly, making it slip out of his hands and drop on the ground pathetically. The spirit notices, immediately moving out of the way to dodge the rest of his failed attack, quickly taking him by the arm and twisting it behind his back, pressing a knee against it and sending him into the ground face-first.

Dust and dirt kick up around them from the impact, but before either of them can catch their breath, Venick runs up from behind and tries to land a blow behind the spirit’s back. With ease, it rolls out of the way and watches as the young girl’s eyes widen, the katana still held high as it now targets Maheas. Her mouth opens widely in exclamation, her lips forming his name, and thankfully, his reaction time is fast enough for him to move his head by an inch right as the blade pierces into the grass, right next to his ear.

Both of them exhale in relief before Maheas suddenly kicks Venick in the stomach, making her drop down breathlessly on the ground next to him. He shouts obscenities, face going red with rage, raising his fists to punch her repeatedly like a madman. The spirit’s eyes widen, and it moves swiftly, arms wrapping around Maheas’ biceps and pulling him away from the poor girl. He kicks and flails around, going as far as to bite its right arm until his canines puncture its skin, drops of blood pooling and smearing across his lips and teeth.

Suliman’s men rush over to control the situation, one of them pulling Venick away from the spirit and Maheas as the others try to calm the young boy down.

“That’s enough!” One of them says, firmly grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look them in their cold eyes. “What are you doing?!”

Two other men pull the spirit away from the boy, each of them holding him by his arms as he continues thrashing against them.

“I’m so sick of this! Why can’t this fucking work?!” He cries, tears of indignation running down his cheeks. “I can’t get anywhere like this!”

He’s obsessed, the spirit thinks to itself. Nobody can learn so many different strategies in such a short span of time, Venick is just simply blessed – or cursed, depending on how someone views it. If anything, Maheas is still learning quickly; just not as quickly as he would like to.

Its thought process is interrupted by the familiar deep, royal colours of Suliman’s favourite robes appearing in the peripheral of its sight. Turning its head to look at her, she approaches the group with a frown donned on her face. Her cold, calculating eyes take in the scene before her, and the spirit ponders if this is the most emotion it has seen from her since it got here.

“What is going on here?” She asks them, her gaze locking onto Maheas, who instantly collects himself, straightening his back as he notices her attention on him. He can’t exactly meet her eyes, the look on his face bashful as he looks down at his feet.

“...I got angry, Madame,” he admits. With a wave of her hand, the two men holding his arms back let go, taking a step back as she walks over to the young boy. “And I took it out on Venick.”

“Dear boy, why would you do that?” Suliman scolds him lightly, the look on her face not quite replicating anger, but trying to. “Look at her, the poor girl is terrified.”

Admittedly, Venick is scared. She presses herself closer to the man who pulled her away, but as the spirit approaches her to offer some semblance of comfort, she launches herself into its arms.

Maheas’ eyes become slits as he glares at the girl, feeling the hot rage boil underneath his skin all over again. He clenches his fists, trying to keep his temperament under wraps. A snap of Suliman’s fingers brings his attention back to her.

“Answer me, why are you so angry?” She asks him once more.

“I– I’m not improving fast enough,” he replies, looking regretful. “But– but Venick just has to be perfect and everything! It’s so annoying! I hate her!”

He must be so used to getting everything handed to him on a silver platter, because no boy of his age should be acting that way or throwing a tantrum like this. And like always, Suliman gently places her hands down on his shoulders, her thumb rubbing comforting circles into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Like always, she’ll comfort him with her sugar-sweet words in that motherly way she does.

“I know, Maheas. You’re a failure,” she says. The spirit’s eyes widen slightly – it didn’t expect that. That crosses the line from being passive-aggressively disappointed into being genuinely cruel. “I’m truly disheartened by this.”

“Madame…?” The boy’s face becomes crestfallen, eyes glossy with unshed tears, skin becoming sickeningly pale. His lips press tightly together, chin trembling.

“But I can shape you into becoming something truly marvellous,” she continues, a small smile spreading across her painted lips. “Something people will fear. But for that, you have to work hard every second of the day.”

He looks at her hesitantly, but manages to muster a weak grin of his own. “...I– I won’t let you down.”

“No, you won’t,” Suliman says, her face immediately dropping to a neutral, far-away stare as she releases her hold on him, walking over to the spirit.

“Come with me,” she completely disregards the young girl still clinging to it. “We need to discuss some things.”

The spirit gives one last pat to Venick’s back, ushering her towards the man who had initially pulled her away from the scene earlier before walking away with the shaman. She walks it down along the gardens until they are a fair distance away from anyone who could listen in to their conversation.

“You’re not pushing him hard enough,” she starts as soon as they’re out of earshot. “Are you trying to make a fool of me?”

The spirit immediately shakes its head. Of course not.

“Then, tell me why you have had no success in making him use his abilities?”

“ Because that’s not the focus of their training. They have to learn how to work together and learn how to handle different weapons, ” it signs back. The sign language book that Suliman had given it had, unfortunately , proven to be incredibly useful. “If they want to get any further, that is how they will grow stronger.”

“I’m telling you now to change it. If I don’t see an improvement within the next week, I’m putting you back in that room,” she threatens, subtle glare hardening. The thought of being put back between those four white walls makes the spirit stiffen up. “You’re weak, you’re too afraid to push him any further. Don’t hold back. He needs to learn somehow.”

“ If we push him too far and too quickly, it could kill him. He’s still young.”

“He’s more resilient than you give him credit for, spirit,” Suliman’s eyes drift to where the two of them came from, in Maheas’ direction. “I’ve changed my mind. If I don’t see any changes within the next three days, I’ll put you back there.”

With that last warning, she shoos it away to go back to the kids, leaving her in the garden.

The spirit takes heed, a constant frown pulling at its face the following day as Venick and Maheas approach it with their things in tow. The girl keeps a fair distance away from the latter, anxiously looking over at him every five seconds. As soon as they put their belongings down on the grass, they hear a quick snap followed by a bright flicker of light as cyan flames approach them at rapid speeds. With quick thinking, Maheas and Venick dodge the attack by jumping in opposite directions, rolling down on the ground before getting back up and staring at the spirit, baffled.

“What the hell was that for?!” Maheas exclaims, raising his katana up.

“ Train, hard, ” the spirit signs back simply, knowing that both of the kids are just starting to learn sign language in their other classes.

“At least give us a warning!” Venick says, also raising her matching weapon in her arms.

Usually, the spirit would use its polearm so that the fighting could be more balanced, but Suliman’s threat nags away at the back of its mind — it refuses to go back into that room, no matter what. With another fast flick of its hands, more fire spews from its fingertips, targeting both of the kids. They have to evade the attack again, unused to being on defence.

“How are we supposed to fight against fire with swords ? ” Venick asks Maheas, bringing the blade up as a guise of protection.

“I don’t know…” Maheas’ anxious eyes are locked on the spirit, who stares back at them emotionlessly. “We just have to keep fighting.”

They prepare themselves to pounce, both of them launching at it at the same time, and the spirit easily sidesteps them, a wave of fire gusting around them all, throwing Venick and Maheas back without the flames touching them – just enough to feel the heat biting at their skin.

“ You have to synchronize together, or else I’ll be able to kick you back at the same time,” it signs to them. “ Get back up. ”

Maheas gets back up first, the frown on his face deepening. His chest puffs out, spreading his feet apart as he clenches his jaw so hard that a vein bulges in his neck. His eyes are wide and gaze unwavering as he rushes forward, the grip on his katana tight. He slashes at the spirit, sending it staggering backwards from the shock. He swings again, blade continuing to cut into the air haphazardly until it catches on the skin of the spirit, who suddenly feels hesitant to fight back. However, Maheas continues to attack it.

“Come on, fight back! Give me your all!” He says, and as the spirit’s eyes focus on his mouth to lip-read, that distracts it long enough for Maheas to bring out his katana’s blade down onto the arm of the spirit, imbedding itself into the meat of its forearm.

The only reason why its arm doesn’t end up completely chopped off is because he doesn’t put an incredible amount of strength into the blow, but out of instinct, the spirit rears back its other arm, harshly snapping its fingers to unleash a powerful blow straight at Maheas, violently throwing him backwards and rolling onto the ground, his body hiding behind a thick veil of steam.

Oh, fuck.

It immediately runs over to his crumpled form, waving the steam away to look at the damage. A large burn bubbles along the entirety of Maheas’ left forearm and neck, the skin red and raw. He clenches his teeth, and as the spirit gathers the young boy into its arms to check over any other damage, it feels him vibrate underneath its palms – it realizes he’s screaming in pain through his clenched teeth. Maheas clutches his arm in agony, foot stomping on the ground aggressively to distract himself from the pain.

Completely focused on tending to the injured boy, the spirit completely forgets about Venick, who had been disregarded when Maheas tried to attack it. It isn’t until it feels a large slash against its back, so utterly excruciating that it immediately lets go of Maheas from the shock, feeling slash after intense slash against its back. It presses a foot against the ground, launching itself out of the way before another attack can hit it.

Weakly looking back, its eyes lock onto an enraged Venick – a long whip made of pure cursed energy held tightly in her hand, knuckles turning white from her grip around the handle.

“Get away from him!” She exclaims, preparing to rear the weapon back once more.

The spirit raises its arms, hands splayed out in front of it to show it wasn’t going to hurt him. The commotion attracts the men standing guard near the greenhouse, one of them followed by Suliman.

Her eyes actually widen as they land on the young girl, then move onto the injured boy until she locks eyes with the spirit, whose arms wrap around itself tightly to let its hands grasp at its back, trying to relieve the pain.

“You did it…” Suliman mutters as she looks at Venick. The second the raven-haired girl realizes all focus is on her, the whip dissipates into nothing as she seems to retreat in on herself. “Girl, you’ve done it.”

“D– done what? Did I do something wrong?” She stutters, hands coming up to her chest to curl in further.

“No, not at all, dear girl,” the platinum blonde replies, the smile on her face reaching the tip of her ears.

Suliman walks over to her, a hand coming up to delicately stroke her hair. The spirit feels disgusted seeing the sickly-sweet affection in the older woman’s eyes.

“You’ve just discovered your curse technique, darling.”

As Suliman continues doting on Venick, the spirit’s eyes drift over to Maheas, who looks at the two from his spot on the ground, still clutching at his arm, with pure hatred in his glare.

If looks could kill, Venick would be a dead girl standing.

You're woken up by your phone buzzing underneath your pillow, violently vibrating against the sheets. The skin of your arms is uncomfortably itchy, having forgotten to take off your bandages the previous night before you passed out in bed. Soundlessly grumbling to yourself, you squint your eyes as you flip the phone open, staring back at the screen. It’s a Saturday, who the hell is waking you up at the ungodly hour of…

Oh. One in the afternoon.

Not so ungodly, after all.

Yaga’s name greets you on the screen, followed by a sunglasses emoji.

- Are you busy tosda [Sent 12:47pm] - *Today [Sent 12:48pm] - ? [Sent 12:49pm]

[One missed call from Yaga.] [1:03pm]

Your fingers move lazily across the small keyboard, the sleep in your eyes still clouding your vision.

- No :P Why

It only takes a few minutes until your door suddenly swings open – you’re certain you locked that last night, by the way – revealing Yaga in his usual workout clothes, minus his sunglasses.

“ Good, you’re up, ” he signs, hands going to his hips.

You don't bother signing in return, simply waving him off and shoving your face back into the pillow. You feel the floor shake as heavy stomps cross the floorboards until the bright afternoon sunlight hits your eyes again, the pillow held high above the teacher’s head as he holds it out of your reach.

“ Nooo…” you mouth, trying to give your best puppy eyes to Yaga.

“I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

“ Can’t this wait? ” You sign, hands moving slowly from how tired you are as you squint at him.

“You’ve been in bed long enough,” he chastises you. He then proceeds to wrap the duvet around you, effectively cocooning you, before he grabs your legs and drags you out of bed.

Your reaction is instantaneous – you claw at the ground, trying to thrash your body back and forth, but all you look like is a dying worm on the pavement when the sun finally hits after a long rainstorm. You try slapping at Yaga’s hands but can’t even manage to reach them, and you try one last ditch effort to escape which proves to be fruitless.

“Nothing you do will make me let go,” Yaga turns his head to address you, mirth swirling in his eyes.

Exasperated, you sigh out deeply and completely let your body go slack as the teacher continues to drag you outside of your dorm room and down the hall. As you walk past the communal kitchen, you feel dread run through your body as you realize there are people already in there.

“Good morning, sen–” Nanami and Haibara’s mouths both close shut as they look at the scene in front of them. The blonde has a cup of coffee held in his hand, halfway up to his mouth but his body is frozen as his lips subtly quirk up. Haibara is sitting at the table with a bowl of oatmeal and fruit, a shocked look on his face.

You look back at them in disdain as Yaga greets them normally, as if he doesn’t have a person wrapped in a duvet-burrito.

“Um, w– what’s going on there?” Haibara asks, tilting his head quizzically, but he looks one step away from blowing up into laughter.

“ S.O.S, S.O.S ,” you sign repeatedly, eyes wide as you give them a terrified expression.

“Ignore them,” is all Yaga says.

“ I’m being K.I.D.N.A.P.P.E.D,” you continue to look at them desperately, going as far as to mouth the words.

“They’re a drama queen, did I forget to mention?”

Yaga is about to continue trudging forward but is met with the doorway being blocked by three familiar bodies. You cringe, jaw clenching tightly as you bang your head against the floor to try and end your misery.

Shoko leans to the side, peering past her sensei and giving you a good once-over before she bursts out laughing, immediately pulling out her phone to snap a picture while her shoulders violently shake from laughter. Gojo and Geto both follow along, looking incredibly amused.

“ That counts as blackmail! Put that fucking phone down,” you glare at her halfheartedly, signing aggressively even though you know she can’t understand you.

“Language, please,” the teacher speaks up.

“ Are you guys seriously going to let him kidnap me like this in broad daylight?”

“I really wish I knew sign language right now,” Geto admits, a wide grin spread across his face.

“They’re saying how much they love this, it’s their favourite pastime, they aren't being kidnapped and this is all of their own volition. Also, they think you’re my most annoying students,” Yaga says, before slowly dragging you away as he walks backwards.

“ I’ll remember this. I’ll remember this betrayal for the rest of my life,” you flip the group of students off, who watch and continue to laugh at you, except for Haibara who dramatically reaches out, fake tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t worry!” He exclaims your name. “I’ll find you when you’re back!”

You continue to glare at them until you and Yaga turn a corner, finally disappearing from view. The teacher continues to drag you until you arrive at the front door of the dormitories, finally letting you go. You quickly scramble to your feet, dusting yourself off and watching as the teacher lets your duvet drop to the ground pathetically.

“ Was that really necessary?” You sign to him, not bothering to pick it up – you’ll wash it when you come back from wherever Yaga is taking you to.

“ Absolutely . ” He nods in reply. “You would’ve taken an entire hour to get ready, and I want you to meet him as soon as possible.”

You relent, sighing dramatically as you follow behind Yaga as you both walk through campus until you go down the large flight of stairs, the teacher’s car waiting for you at the bottom.

“ Oh my god, you really are kidnapping me, aren’t you?” You tease him, comically widening your eyes.

“Put those hands down and get in the car, will you?” He replies, arching an eyebrow.

Raising your hands up in surrender, you get in the passenger seat while Yaga gets in the driver's seat. The car starts up not long after, and you set off, weaving through the streets of the city. Eventually, the car pulls up to a familiar building.

“ Why are we at your house?”

Yaga doesn’t reply, simply turning the engine off before stepping out to unlock the front door. You follow obediently, going on your tiptoes to peer over the taller man’s shoulder curiously, trying to take a peek at whoever he wants you to meet. Yaga ushers you inside quickly, locking the door behind you. You take your shoes off, leaving them on the rack near the doorway.

Once upon a time, with a fresh slash across your face and matted hair, this was where you stayed until he moved you to campus.

He doesn’t bother turning the lights on, instead leading you to another room. The door is shut, and there are colourful stickers randomly littered near the bottom of it, making you wonder why they were stuck on there, of all places. Your questions are soon answered as Yaga swings the door open, revealing a brightly-lit room with its blinds drawn back.

A… baby panda?

Said animal turns to look at you both, tilting its head in curiosity. It wears a baby diaper, with a toy train held in its paws. Upon further inspection, there are multiple toys scattered around the room with a comfortable-looking twin bed pressed in the corner.

The cub speaks. You can clearly see it move its lips, but its fur is so thick it’s hard to read its lips. Your eyes widen, but you can feel a smile spreading across your face before you can stop it. It’s so cute!

“Panda, this is…” Yaga slowly introduces your name to the panda. Then, he addresses you. “This is Panda, he’s…” he hesitates, but looks between the both of you and at the starry expression on your face. “Well, to put it simply, an Abrupt-Mutation Cursed Corpse.”

Your eyebrows raise up in surprise, pointing to Panda. “ You created a mutated corpse? ”

Yaga’s hands immediately go to grasp your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye.

“I’m begging you, please don’t tell anyone. If word gets out, I could be killed for this.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “Who would I even tell? The higher-ups? I’m sure they would definitely trust me.”

“Good point. Sorry– I’m just so worried about this. I only want to give him the best, he’s my first successful mutation.”

You nod your head in understanding. “I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

Yaga’s attention is back on the baby animal, and they talk amongst themselves. You look over the teacher’s shoulder, waving at Panda with a smile. The latter raises his paw and mimics you in reply. Oh god, cuteness aggression is real, you think to yourself, having to turn away before you let the urge to squeeze the cub in your arms take over.

A hand to your shoulder makes you turn back, and Yaga makes you crouch next to him to face the panda properly.

“Would you mind introducing yourself to him in sign language?” He asks, telling Panda to pay close attention.

“ It’s nice to meet you, Panda, ” you sign slowly, followed by spelling your name, fingers carefully shaping the words, repeating both Panda’s name and your own.

“That is sign language,” Yaga explains to the young one. “You’ll be learning it.”

Panda’s mouth moves again as he nods his head before giving you a full grin, shiny white fangs on display and all.

“Eventually, I want to train him properly, but for now he has to remain here. If the higher-ups discover him, my career is over – and my life too, most likely,” the teacher turns to face you as he speaks. “But I’m worried he’s lonely when I’m not here, even with the babysitter. I’ve already attached a new set of keys to your keychain, so if you have the chance… would you mind dropping by sometime?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, which makes Yaga quickly pat your shoulder appreciatively.

You both look back at Panda, who continues playing with his toys. You feel a sense of calm wash over you, and you situate yourself on the floor more comfortably, raising one of the toys to make playful chomping gestures at Panda’s cheeks, who’s shoulders shake as he laughs in glee.

Unbeknownst to you, Yaga takes a quick picture of the two of you in your own world, a real smile playing upon his lips.

You walk all the way back to the school, still dressed in your pyjamas. People send you odd looks as you stuff your hands into your sweatpants, a frown and pout on your face. Yaga sent you back on your own, claiming that you needed more fresh air and to enjoy the sunny day outside. All you really wanted to do was lay in bed all day and let your sore body recuperate for the upcoming week.

As you trudge your body up the unending flight of stairs that lead back to the school, you are greeted with the sight of Nanami and Haibara talking amongst themselves, sitting across from each other at a picnic table with a bunch of snacks set up on the surface. The trees above them provide a nice canopy of shade, protecting them from the harsh glare of the sun.

Haibara’s brown eyes suddenly lock onto your own, and they light up upon seeing you. He enthusiastically waves you over, apparently yelling your name so loudly that Nanami grabs his arm, making a shushing motion at him.

“Hi!” He greets you with a wide smile upon his lips. “You made it back alive!”

“ No thanks to you, ” you sign in return, though it’s all meant lightheartedly.

The brunette immediately pouts. “Sorry, I don’t really know what you said besides ‘ no’ and ‘ you ’.”

You give him a light smile. “ It’s okay.”

Haibara proceeds to pat the empty seat on the bench next to him, motioning at you to sit down. “You should join us! We’re having lunch now.” Nanami looks like he’s about to contradict him, a small blush forming on the tips of his ears, but he concedes, nodding along.

Apprehensive, you take a seat next to the brunette, signing a quick thank you in reply. Your bed is calling you right now, but there’s no harm in hanging out with the two men, either.

“What did sensei want with you, anyway?” Haibara asks before taking a bite out of one of the small triangle sandwiches.

Keep Panda a secret, Yaga’s words pop up in your head. Keep Panda safe.

“ Nothing important,” you reply.

“I think that’s… ‘ nothing’, right?” Nanami asks, immediately turning to rummage through his bag, pulling out a sign language dictionary. Your eyes widen slightly in delight, a small quiet laugh bursting past your lips. The blonde replicates the motion you made previously, palms facing you and Haibara before turning them to himself. You nod in reply, smiling.

“He’s learning pretty quickly,” the brunette says, offering a sandwich to you, who takes it from his hand, proceeding to munch away on it gratefully. “I have to admit it’s a lot for me to learn. I’m still stuck on finger-spelling.”

“To be honest, me too,” Nanami admits, flitting through the pages of the dictionary. “Would you mind telling me if I’m signing my name right?”

You shake your head back and forth, eyes locked onto his hands as he moves them to sign his name as accurately as possible. He stumbles over the motions slightly, but it is still understandable for you, albeit a bit awkward to follow along. You give the blonde an ‘ok’ sign before you wipe your hands on your pants, proceeding to lean over the table to gently grasp Nanami’s hands into your own and moving his fingers into the correct position.

“ There, ” You mouth to him as you move them back and forth to help him memorize. “ Na-na-mi.”

“I… see,” he replies, whole face flushing light pink. You quickly sit back down properly, grabbing a cookie, completely oblivious to the other man’s embarrassment.

You see Gojo and Geto approaching the table before they can greet your group properly. You wave at them with a smile on your face, and the raven-haired man returns it with a tired one of his own.

“What’s going on over here?” Gojo asks as he reaches you all, leaning over Nanami’s shoulder. The latter is already frowning in disdain, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there. “ Ooh, sign language, huh?”

“They’re just showing us how to sign Nanamin’s name,” Haibara says, eyes starry as his eyes are locked on Geto.

“Cool. Anyways, we were wonderi–”

“Ohh, wait, show me how to sign my name!” Haibara interrupts him, shaking your shoulder back and forth to grab your attention. He completely ignores Gojo’s glare sent his way, attentively watching as you happily demonstrate it to him. The two of you go back and forth for a few minutes until he finally grasps it well enough.

After your small lesson, the brunette turns back to his peers. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Uh,” Gojo looks awkward as he looks at the ground for a split-second before he gazes at you through his sunglasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose absentmindedly. “We were wondering if you were going to… train with us today.”

You look at them quizzically, eyebrows furrowed. Since when did you train together on weekends?

Not that you’re against it, but–

You look at the snacks on the table, then to Haibara and Nanami, who look at you almost expectantly. Well, you were already here, and they seemed to want to learn more sign language, so…

You shrug your shoulders in reply, shaking your head back and forth.

“Are you sure?” Geto asks – he seems disappointed.

You sign an apology, sending him a nervous smile. “They offered me food. Plus, I would feel bad if I left them now because they want to learn sign language.”

“Alright. See you on Monday, then,” Gojo says rather abruptly, lips pressed tightly together. “C’mon, Suguru.”

You wave goodbye to them, which only Geto returns. It takes a moment for Gojo’s words to finally register in your mind. Wait, did he–?

“That was weird,” Haibara says after an awkward pause. “Gojo was acting strange.”

“When is he not?” Nanami asks rhetorically, still looking bothered. “He has a talent at butting his head into our business.”

“Yeah, but not like that. Eh, whatever, it’s not that important,” the brunette eventually goes back to his food. After finishing off his own plate, he seems to pause halfway while brushing the crumbs away from his mouth with his thumb. He turns to you, who still continues to stare at where the men were once standing. He gently taps your shoulder which makes you snap your head to look at him.

You tilt your head to the side in question, shaking your index finger back and forth. “ What is it? ”

“Say, I forgot to ask. When’s your birthday?” Haibara asks. “I hope we haven’t missed it…”

You look at him blankly for a moment before giving him a shrug. Honestly, you don't remember the moment you appeared into existence. You were just… created, simply put. One second, you weren't, then you were. There were no big explosions or festivities, unless you counted the people who used to worship you, although that was centuries ago.

Haibara looks utterly offended on your behalf. “Are you telling me you don’t know or you don’t have one?”

“The second one. ”

“Nanami, we can’t have this!” He turns to the blonde, who doesn’t seem too surprised himself. “We’ll give you a birthday then.”

“Are you sure that’s appropriate?” Nanami asks, looking over at you, unsure.

“ I’m sure it’s fine.”

Haibara catches his chin between his forefinger and thumb, looking dead ahead of him, eyes becoming unfocused. Wow, he’s seriously thinking hard about this. You and Nanami share a look, the latter shaking his head back and forth, exasperated. It takes a few moments until Haibara snaps out of it suddenly, looking as if he’s been illuminated.

“I got it!” He says, eyes sparkling from how excited he is. “October thirty-first!”

“Okay, that definitely can’t be appropriate.”

You just stare at them, absolutely confused. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a curse, right? Those cursed energy levels coming from you are off the charts, more than any normal human being. Either that, or you’re cursed,” oh, so close, you wince. “But a curse is technically a spirit, right? And spirits are technically ghosts! It’s fitting, isn’t it?”

In any other world, you would love to jump in joy – Haibara was so close to actually understanding what you are. You wish they could understand sign language or that you had your notebook to write in so you could actually explain the situation. However, decades of being dismissed and treated as less than others render you exhausted. There’s no point trying to justify yourself if Haibara is dead set on believing that you are a curse. If that’s how he sees you, then so be it.

Instead, you steels your nerves, simply giving him a curt nod of your head. That’s perfect.

Haibara and Nanami smile warmly at you.

“October thirty-first it is,” the blonde says, going back to flipping through his book, the smile still plastered on his lips.

As you all finish your food in silence, you let your gaze wander up, peering at the sun through the leaves of the trees that create a canopy above your group. You grin to yourself, feeling a sense of satisfaction bloom within you.

The kindest gift that you have received. A day of celebration for you.

A celebration of life for a dead man walking.

Lately, Satoru dreams of you.

When he off-handedly told Suguru about it the first time it happened, the latter barked out a sharp laugh and asked him, “What, like a wet dream?”

He finds himself wishing it were.

At this point, Satoru would take that over whatever has actually been happening when he falls asleep.

It starts off inconspicuously enough – when he drifts off, the next thing he knows, he’s standing in the middle of a road out in the countryside. He can’t actually pinpoint whether it’s a real location that he’s seen before or not, but the endless amount of wheat fields that lay to his right seem properly tended to. To his left, there’s a forest that goes on endlessly, thick fog permeating from it. It’s always pitch-black outside, and he’d like to assume it’s the witching hour, but something at the back of his mind tells him that’s not right. The shadows unnaturally stretch for miles across the road.

There’s always a certain itch crawling along his skin, as if he’s being observed. But every time he looks over his shoulder, he is utterly alone. There are no other signs of life – no birds chirping, no cars driving down the gravel road, no farmers tending to the fields or horses gallivanting around behind the wooden fence. He can’t even hear the gravel crunching underneath his shoes. He doesn’t feel safe here.

Satoru desperately wants to wake up, but something isn’t letting him.

Eventually, his alarm clock will shock him awake, pulling him from the impossibly deep sleep he was in. And every time, the day starts then comes to an end, and after a long day of hard work and training, he has to let his mind and body rest, so he goes to sleep. And every time, he is always greeted with that same dream.

As the weeks pass by, the recurring dream becomes more and more specific.

This time, after standing in the same place for what feels like an eternity, his feet absentmindedly carry him forwards down the road, eyes snapping to every dark corner as the sense of unease grows and grows and grows. He feels a shiver run down his spine when he hears deep, breathless breathing right in his ear, as if someone is overexerting themselves next to him, body desperately pressed up against his own. His head snaps to the side, but there’s nobody there.

Every muscle of his body tenses up, the hair on his arms raising. He feels his eyes sinking into their eye sockets, wide with fear. The Gojo clan does not fear anything , he hears the voice of his father tell his younger self after a thunderstorm that left him shaking like a leaf.

The breathing is not his own, Satoru knows this for a fact. His hands are pressed up against his mouth and nose as he tries to take deep, quiet breaths, his heart clenching and making nausea tumble around in his stomach.

The scenery stays exactly the same as usual – not a single thing changes, except for the varying height of the wheat fields. After another indiscernible amount of time, there’s a break in between the fields; a small church, made of old wood with its white paint chipping off, slightly elevated from the road. It almost resembles a backyard shack. The windows and front door are boarded up with thick panels, with weeds and vines growing along some cracks. It’s obviously been unoccupied for years, if not decades.

Satoru’s blood runs cold as his eyes adjust to the dark even further, noticing a body laying on the cement steps leading up to the front door of the small building. The person is surrounded by small asphodels growing from the cracks in the cement, the small white petals a stark contrast to the darkness that envelops this dream. He keeps his eyes down– down, so he can at least pretend that the person is sleeping.

The dark liquid surrounding them seems to scream otherwise.

The stranger’s body resting on the stairs is positioned on their knees, stomach down, their head resting against the hard concrete and facing his way.

He stays a fair distance away, but Satoru feels even more sick once he realizes that the body isn't just a stranger, after all.

It's you .

The unmistakable colour of your hair is splayed along the steps, mismatched eyes looking more faded and dead than ever before. Suddenly, the smell hits Satoru’s nostrils, making him gag. The stench of rot fills the air around him, unescapable. Not even the sweet, honeysuckle scent of the asphodels can cover it up. The fragrances mix together, producing something that just smells wrong.

Against his better judgement, his feet stay firmly planted in place; something tells him that he can’t leave your body here.

The sound of flies buzzing around your dead body becomes more obvious once he takes a few steps forward, but he halts immediately once he sees a shadow spreading, moving from the darkness that it casts along the cracks in the road, moving unnaturally; detached from reality. It stretches up, up, up , becoming more human-like until Satoru’s eyes can see the individual pair of arms and legs standing over your body. The rest of its features are muted – it’s just a shadow, after all.

It’s just a shadow, right?

Right?

Its hands reach out to brush the hair away from your face, and Satoru feels his body fill with disgust, but he doesn’t know why. His six eyes seem to tune into something that his mind refuses to process. His mouth opens to tell it off, to get it away from you, but nothing comes out; the words get stuck in his throat, as if it is impossible for him to make any noise.

The shadow fades in and out as it hunches over you, getting closer and closer to your ear, and the heavy breathing in Satoru’s ear only grows in volume. This feels wrong on so many levels. It feels like an imaginary hand is wrapping around his throat, cutting off his ability to breathe in properly as his eyes are completely fixated on the scene before him. His heart pounds against his ribcage, and it feels like it’s about to leap out of his body.

The shadow’s fading hand gently strokes your cheek in a comforting manner, its head brushing right against your ear. At that exact moment, uncontrollable warped words play backwards in Satoru’s head, putting the devil’s tongue to shame. He can’t tell anything apart, as if his brain is melting. None of the sentences make sense, the voice sounding anything but human, layered over itself, and the words meld together in a messy tangle.

“ You… poor thing…” The single sentence that is finally managed to be unravelled, making his body run ice cold.

The buzzing of the flies is suddenly so overwhelming, becoming the only noise that Satoru can hear – he finds himself thankful for a moment, finally being spared of the voice that sounds like iron dragging against concrete, but he realizes that it’s him waking up. His body becomes weightless, but his arms immediately reach out, hands grasping at nothing as he tries to claw through the air to your body.

“ WAIT! ” He finally manages to shout, followed by desperately screaming your name, feeling his throat go raw. The flies are starting to surround his body, trying to take him away from his dead body lying along the stairs – but then his dream finally allows his eyes to focus on them, and they’re not flies.

It’s hundreds of paper birds, ones that he used to see when he read children’s fairytale books. They’re semi-humanoid paper creatures, off-white in colour with a round circle as their head, with rectangular wings sticking out, and the rest of their figure angling inwards, turning into a sharp, acute point, forming a pointed tail. A representation of the body and mind of something that shouldn’t exist.

“Wait, WAIT! Please!” He shouts your name again in distress.

He’s not sure what he’s begging for, but he manages to push through the paper birds just enough to put his entire strength to take a few steps forward. I’m the strongest, he repeats to himself over and over again. I should be able to rip these things apart. Just when his hands brush against your shoulder, the birds seem to multiply in numbers, the buzzing turning into intense static ringing through his head. I’m the strongest , he thinks again. I’m the strongest.

“ Let me go !” He screams over the sound of the buzzing, swatting a paper bird away from his face, but it doesn’t stop others from flying into his ears, up his nostrils and into his mouth, making him gag and choke. He feels them move violently under his skin, making his cheeks burn as he feels them slash and break it, blood drip- dripping down his chin slowly and smearing across his face from the chaos.

Satoru’s hand manages to clasp around your bicep, but it’s too late. The swarm manages to break his hold on you as they take the white-haired man’s breath away, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his grip on the nightmare slipping. The imagery fades, the looming shadow being the last thing he can clearly make out as the overwhelming sound of paper birds turns into the familiar one of his alarm clock going off.

Satoru’s body jolts away, cold sweating spread all across his body, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably. His hand immediately slams down on the alarm so violently that it smashes into pieces, but the urge to purge the contents of his stomach overshadows the dull pain throbbing in his hand.

He runs to the washroom, nearly tripping over his legs before spewing everything up into the toilet. The nausea hits him more intensely as he feels the chunks of food creep up his throat, the acidic taste of bile overwhelming his taste buds and the intense smell invading his nostrils. His back heaves from the force of it, muscles tensing up tightly. His sweaty forehead presses against the porcelain seat as he tries to catch his breath, thick spit pooling from his lips and onto the cold bathroom floor. Once he feels stable enough, he raises himself on shaky legs, going to the small sink to rinse his mouth. As he bends down to drink the water pooling in his hands and swish it around in his mouth, his mind can’t help but remind him of the intense buzzing of the swarm of paper birds, almost as if they’re really there with him in the waking world.

He reassures himself that it was just an incredibly vivid dream, that absolutely nothing can go wrong in the waking world. He is safe, and you are alive and well, probably already waiting with Shoko for him and Suguru to show up to class. It was simply a nightmare , nothing more, and nothing less.

After rinsing his mouth properly, he raises his head, his muscles becoming impossibly stiff.

The buzzing returns tenfold.

The hand around his neck is back.

The voice speaking in tongues is distant, but definitely there.

And a familiar shadow looms behind him.

#jjk x reader #cross posted on ao3 #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #haibara yu x y/n #haibara yu x you #haibara yu x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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and-justice-for-zoisite · 10 months

Text

𝓣𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼 Part 2 (𝔽𝕦𝕛𝕚𝕟 𝕩 𝕋𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕘! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Official Masterlist

Summary: Fujin meets his elusive thief once again, and they have a heart to heart talk about the reader's past.

Word Count: 2.6k words.

Months had passed since their first encounter, and the memory of (Y/n) lingered in Fujin's mind like a whisper on the wind. The wind god had fulfilled his duties diligently, attending to the realms and protecting the balance of nature. But there was always a part of him that yearned for another encounter with the free-spirited thief who had stolen not only his attention but also a piece of his heart.

It was disappointing to know that (Y/n) Tsung hadn't yet made another attempt at stealing another item, despite what his brother would no doubt have to say should he be the one to discover her.

As the sun cast its golden rays upon the tranquil landscape, Fujin stood atop a grassy hill overlooking a bustling marketplace. It was a place where merchants displayed their goods, and people from all walks of life mingled and traded. The wind carried the sweet scent of spices and the chatter of eager voices.

He enjoyed not only watching over, but participating in the markets - such a simple yet joyous experience. As he strolled through the vibrant stalls, Fujin couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and connection to the world around him. The colourful array of fruits, vibrant fabrics, and intricate crafts enticed his senses.

The locals knew of his presence and divine status, as well as that of his older brother, and they were beloved and worshipped figures, considering how close the markets took place to the Shaolin temples. For the most part, he was greeted by many, and he loved meeting new people, seeing new faces, and making new friends, as each individual human was something to be treasured.

Even with everything happening around him, he felt that emptiness in his eternal heart. His day to day life was dull otherwise, and he longed to see that forbidden fruit again that was (Y/n) Tsung.

Fujin was taken from his thoughts when he felt a figure push past him, seemingly in a hurry to get by. He allowed them, though a little taken a back by their rude gesture as he watched them.

They had on a hooded cloak, obscuring their identity as they travelled. Though, when he saw them outstretch a hand and nick an apple from a nearby stall, he knew exactly who he was looking at.

He grinned.

Swiftly, Fujin followed in her wake, weaving through the bustling marketplace with ease, his divine agility allowing him to keep up with her nimble steps. He admired the way she effortlessly blended into the crowd, her presence both elusive and magnetic.

As he caught up to her, Fujin reached out a grabbed a handful of her cloak. (Y/n) stumbled slightly as Fujin yanked her cloak, causing her hood to fall back and reveal her head of (h/c) hair. Surprise and amusement danced in her eyes as she turned to face him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Fujin?" she called his name, her voice filled with a mixture of teasing and genuine delight. "I must say, I didn't expect to encounter you so soon. And at a market, no less."

Fujin chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I have a knack for finding what I'm looking for," he replied, his voice laced with amusement. "And it seems I've found you once again, my elusive thief."

She playfully raised an eyebrow.

"Thief, you say? I prefer to think of myself as a liberator of valuable items," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But I suppose thief has a certain ring to it."

He grinned, enjoying their banter and the familiar chemistry that crackled between them.

"Oh, I have no doubt you have a talent for liberating things," he said, his voice low and filled with innuendo. "Though, I must ask. Are you intending on paying for that?"

(Y/n) let out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She glanced down at the apple in her hand and then back at Fujin, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Paying? Where's the fun in that?" she replied with a playful smirk. "Besides, I'm sure the vendor won't miss one little apple."

"I would have been more than happy to purchase food for you, (Y/n)," Fujin sighed, raising a brow at her. "Though I suppose you're right, they most likely won't notice that apple's absence."

"Why don't you come walk with me, wind god?" she asked of him, breathing on the skin of her apple before rubbing it on her shirt. "I've not seen you in a while."

Fujin's gaze softened as he observed her playful nature, a fond smile gracing his lips. The wind gently rustled their hair as they strolled through the bustling marketplace.

"So, (Y/n)," Fujin began, "What's been keeping you away from the Sky Temple. Are you much too intimidated to try your scheme out again?"

(Y/n) laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she walked alongside Fujin. She took a moment to enjoy the lively atmosphere of the marketplace before responding.

"Intimidated? Not at all," she replied, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. "I've simply been caught up, is all. Like, literally. I was being held captive."

Fujin's playful expression turned into one of concern as he turned his full attention to (Y/n). The wind stilled around them, creating a momentary calm in the midst of the bustling market.

"Held captive?" Fujin repeated, his voice laced with worry. "What happened? Are you alright?"

(Y/n) waved her hand dismissively, trying to ease his concern.

"Oh, don't worry about me. It was nothing I couldn't handle. Just a little adventure gone awry. I may have underestimated the security measures of a certain treasure vault," she confessed sheepishly. Fujin's concern didn't waver, and he furrowed his brows.

"You should have informed me. I would have come to your aid," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Now how bad would that you look for you, my friend?" (Y/n) pointed out, raising a brow at him, "Protector of Earthrealm and God of wind being buds with Shang Tsung's daughter."

Fujin paused for a moment, considering her words. She had a point. As a deity tasked with safeguarding Earthrealm, his association with Shang Tsung's daughter would undoubtedly raise eyebrows and potentially cause complications.

"You make a good point, my dear," he sighed, his eyes casting toward her direction once more, "though I wish it weren't this way." "You trust me way too much, deity," (Y/n) sighed as they reached the end of the market, subconsciously continuing into the forest which outstretched beyond it. "I sense no ill-intentions from you," Fujin told her, giving her a small smile, "had I, I would've dealt with you by now."

(Y/n) chuckled softly, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Ah, so that's your measure of trust," she replied, her voice filled with playful sarcasm. "If you hadn't dealt with me by now, then I must be alright."

Fujin nodded, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

"Indeed, it's a fool-proof method," he said, matching her playful tone.

(Y/n) laughed, her eyes shining with amusement.

"I see your confidence is unwavering," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

They shared a moment of comfortable silence between them, as an unspoken agreement formed between them that told them to keep walking together like this, through the forest. Though, Fujin hadn't seen her in such a long time, and was eager to catch up some more.

"Who exactly had you held captive for so long?" Fujin asked, still intrigued by the conversation they had just had before. "Oh, he's a nobody. Just my ex-boyfriend, Erron," (Y/n) sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "He's a real piece of work. But then again, aren't I for trying to infiltrate Kotal Kahn's place? I wouldn't have even bothered had I known he worked for him." "Erron Black?" he asked, raising a brow at her, "goodness, I hadn't known the two of you were an item at some point." "I don't exactly tell people, and neither did he. Honestly it's embarrassing enough having to be his ex, imagine how embarrassing it was to be his girlfriend," (Y/n) scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "We've got a complicated past. We were never a conventional couple, that's for sure. Our paths crossed during one of my adventures, and there was an undeniable attraction between us. But our differences ultimately drove us apart."

Somewhat of a smile played at (Y/n)'s lips, as she revelled in that bittersweet sense of nostalgia that came with remembering her past with that other man.

"I don't even know if he was there to be with me, or use my body, to be completely honest with you," she sighed, her vision straight ahead though she didn't seem focused on anything in particular. "But...it was nice to feel wanted for once, I guess."

Fujin could sense the mix of emotions swirling within (Y/n) as she opened up about her past with Erron Black. He understood that nostalgia could be both comforting and painful, especially when looking back at complicated relationships.

"Though your body is quite fantastic, it's important that your lover is there for your soul too," Fujin added, cheekily though his words were also wise. "Your body is only temporary, your soul is forever."

(Y/n) flushed bright red at the remark, and though she tried her hardest to conceal her reaction, her efforts were ultimately in vain, and Fujin couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm sorry if that was too forward," he laughed, smiling down at her affectionately, "I tend to speak my mind, sometimes to the point of teasing. Please forgive me." "No, no...don't be sorry," (Y/n) spluttered, waving her hands in a dismissive way, flustered as ever. "I'm just...flattered, is all. And...not used to the compliments."

Fujin's laughter subsided, replaced by a gentle understanding. He could sense (Y/n)'s vulnerability and how unfamiliar she was with receiving sincere compliments.

"Well, get used to it because you deserve every bit of praise that comes your way," Fujin said, his voice filled with sincerity. "You possess qualities that go far beyond physical beauty. Your strength, courage, and resilience are truly admirable."

(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and gratitude. It was as if Fujin's words were shining a light on parts of herself that she had forgotten or overlooked.

"You're just saying that," (Y/n) let out a mix between a scoff and a laugh as she shook her head, looking away from him. "I don't say things just for the sake of saying them," Fujin assured her, walking a little closer to her, so that that her shoulder would brush against him as they strolled. "These words come from my heart, and they are meant for you, and you alone."

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading within her at Fujin's words and his gentle proximity. His presence provided a sense of comfort that she hadn't realized she was craving.

Walking ahead, (Y/n) abruptly turned around to face Fujin, stopping the both of them in their tracks as she looked up at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Tell me this, Fujin," she began, her tone quite serious though he could sense her playful undertone as always, "why are you so interested in me?"

Fujin met (Y/n)'s gaze, his eyes unwavering as he considered her question. In all honesty, he didn't have a straight answer himself. He just...liked her. He liked being around her, even if this was only their second meeting. His intuition spoke to him, and of all people, it wanted her.

"To put it simply, (Y/n), I can't quite explain why I'm so interested in you," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "Sometimes, the heart simply knows what it wants, and it's drawn to certain individuals without any logical reasoning. All one can do is listen."

She stared at him for a moment, allowing herself to process his words in a quiet contemplation. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath as she thought, and it's serene nature didn't keep her thinking for very long.

"...you...you hardly even know me," she huffed, looking away from him. "You're right, (Y/n), but I want to."

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest, a mix of uncertainty and intrigue. She had been guarded for so long, protecting herself from the world and its complexities. But here was Fujin, offering her a chance to be known, to be seen.

"I've built walls around myself," she confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to let someone in. Not again, not after the way he treated me."

There was a quiet thump as (Y/n) felt back into the grass, below the thick stump of a plum blossom. She took a moment to feel the earth below her, threading her fingers into the grass as she inhaled deeply, taking in all the smells around.

Fujin watched her, his gaze soft yet intent. He respected her vulnerability and the walls she had built to protect herself. He knew that trust couldn't be forced or rushed—it had to be earned.

Quietly, Fujin knelt down beside her, mirroring her actions and feeling the grass between his own fingers. The earth seemed to respond to their presence, embracing them in its ancient wisdom. He wanted (Y/n) to know that he would be patient, that he would wait for her to find the courage to let someone in again.

"There doesn't need to be any strings tied to this," Fujin said gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "No expectations, no pressure. I simply enjoy your company and want to know you better. It's okay to take things one step at a time."

She gazed at him thoughtfully, her eyes taking the time to memorise all of his features.

Fujin met her gaze, his own eyes reflecting a quiet intensity and a genuine curiosity about the person before him. He appreciated the thoughtful way she observed him, as if she was cataloging every nuance, every detail.

The forest around them seemed to echo their stillness, and the world beyond their small haven felt distant and unimportant. In this moment, it was just the two of them, the earth beneath them, and the secrets of their hearts.

Then, a small chuckle, one which fell from (Y/n)'s lips.

She sat up.

"You know, Lord Fujin," she began, getting up from off the ground and brushing herself off. "I think that if I see you one more time, I just might fall in love with you."

She sighed, he back to him though she had her head turned so she could see him in the corner of her eye.

"...so, I suppose we can wait and see til then, can't we?"

Without so much as another word, she disappeared into a plume of dark smoke.

Fujin watched her vanish into the plume of dark smoke, his heart feeling strangely light yet heavy all at once. Her words lingered in the air, echoing through the quiet forest. He couldn't help but smile, touched by her honesty and the hint of vulnerability she had shown.

"As you wish," he whispered softly to the empty space where she had stood.

Fujin remained there for a while, alone in the forest, the fading echoes of her laughter in his ears and the memory of her presence in his heart. It was a moment he would carry with him, a fragment of something beautiful and unexpected.

With a final glance at the tranquil woods, he too vanished into the wind, leaving the forest to its ancient secrets and the promise of another meeting, whenever fate deemed it so.

#fujin x reader #fujin mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #fluff

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palestinian-fundraising · 25 days

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PLEASE READ🇵🇸

Help Asmaa Continue School Outside of Gaza

Message from organizer:

My name is Alicia. I'm fundraising to help Asmaa Dwaima pay off her dental certificate and leave Gaza to continue school abroad. I met Asmaa through a post her friend Yara shared on TikTok.

A message from her is below:

My name is Asmaa Dwaima, I am 24 years old, and I live in Gaza in Palestine. I am a dentist. I have just finished my internship year, and I was so glad to be ready to start working, maybe at a center or maybe I can open my own clinic. I lost my future.

I have no hopes right now about getting a job. I was dreaming of having a job and collecting money on bank like any other one in the planet and after that buying my own car and going to complete my master degree , or maybe i could apply for a scholarship and fly like a bird outside Gaza!

Now I am searching for a scholarship in USA OR UK. I really want to apply for one, but unfortunately I hadn't have my Certificate of Dentistry from Al-Azhar university of Gaza. Since I had $10,000 fees needed to get it, everything in my life stopped and connected with this certificate! So I need this money to get my certificate and then apply for a scholarship.

"Welcome Ramadan" we go to supermarkets with my family, buying things, we go to the beach with my friends to have my eftar there, like magic, everything was magical and fabulous but suddenly everything goes away. We can't even smile or laugh when we remember Eid is coming up!

Previously, whenever I felt bored I immediately go to the sea. Sometimes with my friends sometimes with my own self, but now I haven't see the sea for 173 days! The thing that was my permanent treatment is now unreachable...

What happened during the war was so hard to understand. On Friday 13 October 2023 while we were thinking about what would be our main meal, the Israeli army asked us as a Palestinian people who live in the northern area of Gaza strip to leave our homes, our work, our dreams behind, and go to the southern area of Gaza strip. And since that time we haven't returned home!

For more than 6 months I don't see my home. I don't feel safe. We feel we are lost , we miss everything, all that actually feels like a nightmare and I hope I will get up soon! But till now I don't get up!!

I lost 4 of my family members, and 5 of my friends, and they aren't numbers they are stories dreams beautiful souls we lost and we will always love them and tell people about them.

I lost my home, my beloved room, my things , my dad lost his work place , they destroyed it completely, leveled to the ground , Dwaima watches company the ancient company that was founded by my grandfather, “Mohamed Saeed Dwaima,” in the year 1975, had been completely erased. That was a shock for us. We put goods worth $500,000 in it. How difficult it is for a person to lose everything in the blink of an eye, his home, his work, and the devotion of his entire life.

And now i live with other 10 of my family members in one room, 11 individuals live in a small room ! We eat we drink we pray we sleep in the same room , the whole day on it. People live in camps without a thing underneath them. They are just laying down on the floor and sleep feeling cold and rain while their cries outstrip the rain outside.

And about the laundry , we are the washing machine unfortunately! Hhh. We can't have a bath whenever we want to do this ,just every 10 days on the municipal day.

What we're living nowadays is hard to understand.

Getting or having water is a hard mission , for example my brothers have to fill the water tank from the mosque since we just have water in the room where we living 1 day every 10 days, so other days they have to fill the tank from the mosque and walking for more then 2 kilometers to finally reach the place where we live.

Please, help me save me and my family from the war that is happening in Gaza. I have not seen many of my family members for about six months and I am deeply concerned that I may never see them again, especially after losing so many friends, neighbors and relatives. We have faced repeated displacement since October. I don't know when all of this gonna end , when we will return back home and start our lives again!

It's not our first time to lose our home since in war 2014. We lost our entire building, 10 families lost their place where they were living, so please this is our GoFundMe page, if you can help us do it , we are dreaming so much and we won't stop dreaming of returning home and rebuild my dad's workplace, maybe one day I will share my own clinic pictures with you, and that will happen with your generous help.

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sopeacefulandquiet · 1 year

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The First Meeting

Summary: After spending 6 months undercover working at a cafe in downtown Las Vegas, Y/n finds someone who might make her time here more interesting and maybe help her getaway.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Word Count: ~3k Warning: N/A Genre: fluff? kinda Notes: This is honestly so bad, you can tell I had no idea what was happening as I got halfway in, I do apologise if you decide to read this and make it till the end as it makes absolutely no sense as I ran out of motivation to write it halfway through. I just really had to finish it and get it off my mind. So thank you for reading. Enjoy. Please let me know if there is any way I could improve this! Feedback is much appreciated.

Y/n didn't believe in love at first sight. She didn't understand how someone could look at a person and decide that they now loved them based solely on looks. She saw it as futile, falling in love with someone without knowing their true personality. She’d scoff just thinking about someone she knew ‘falling in love at first sight’, Y/n believed there was no love at first sight, there was only lust at first sight. Nothing more, nothing less.

Being an undercover agent heavily contributed to her opinions, she couldn't fall in love (not that she would, love was overrated in her opinion) with someone knowing that at any moment now, she would have to sacrifice her life for a country that she didn't believe in anymore. She could, however, sleep with as many people as she wanted, she could lust after people, because in her opinion lust had no such consequences as love did.

Love simply was not worth the risk.

Love at first sight was a false notion.

Love did not make people happy. She saw it firsthand with her parents.

Love left destruction in its wake, and she had no room for destruction in her life.

Y/n y/l/n was sworn off love. it had no room in her life.

Not until a certain brunet unknowingly made his way into her life.

——————————————————————————————————

Y/n grew to appreciate the little things in life. The little things in her life were what made her happy, little things that she had grown to love in the past year; the birds chirping in the morning when she woke up, her little apartment which was minimally decorated but still home, and even her old neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers who would welcome her into their home and feed her until she could stomach no more.

The things she didn't have to learn to love, things that brought a smile to her face instantly were the degrees placed on her mantel, delicately framed in gold frames. At the young age of 19, Y/n had already completed two Ph.D.'s and she couldn't be more proud of herself - nor could her mother. Next to the certificates sat her most beloved possession - the only family photo she had. She would often spend hours sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, photo frame in hand, examining each smiling individual in the photo, her mother, father, and her three brothers. She wondered how they would look now, after 7 years. Would they remember her? Maybe, maybe not. Y/n, however, could remember each of them so vividly, their voices, their mannerisms, the way they’d call for her. She often imagined what life would be like if those events 7 years ago never took place.

Alas. one could not change the past. And so she’d place the photo frame back on the mantel and try not to think of it again.

Being an undercover agent at her age was hard. She was supposed to make her way into the family of the mafia boss in Las Vegas, which she had done successfully in under 2 weeks, but after informing the FBI that she had done her part, she was asked to lay low until a new case was sent her way; which she had been doing for the past 3 years. Her days became predictable, which she grew to like, school, work, home, and then repeat. Every single day. Enrolling in and attending university became almost a hobby for her, which was how she’d achieved 2 PhDs at a young age, hoping to gain her third in the upcoming year.

Working at the little cafe in downtown Las Vegas was something she grew to enjoy. She liked the way every day was almost predictable. The cafe would open at 7am every day. She’d go through the process of raising the blinds in front of the door window and turning the sign around from ‘closed’ to open. She’d take her place behind the tills with a bright smile on her face ready to greet customers, continuing conversation with her co-workers, Jayne and Andrew, who were primarily the ones making the large array of drinks they served. Y/n reveled in the predictability of the day ahead.

The cafe, being close to the center of Las Vegas, meant that it was incredibly common for customers to frequent it on a daily basis to get their morning to-go cup of coffee, but it was rare for them to stay. So when a boy - who could be no older than her - came in every day for 3 months, y/n’s interest was piqued. He’d walk in every day at exactly 3pm, and she noticed a thick book in one hand, the other clutching the strap of his satchel. He would sit in the far back corner and read. Until the closing time at 11pm. He slowly became her favourite person and knowing nothing about it (and being too afraid to ask) she would watch him intently, creating little stories in her head about him; her favorite being one about him being a child prodigy, like Mozart, but instead of being into music, he’d be into maths.

She watched him, on and off, for the past three months and each time he was looking down engrossed in his book, flipping through it at a godly speed, y/n was certain he was just looking at the pictures to keep himself occupied, for what she didn't know. Every day she watched him walk in, with a smile on her face, waiting for him to come up to the counter and place an order, but when he walked in, he’d make an immediate beeline to the table in the back, never once coming up to the counter.

He’d walked in today, with a thick book in one hand, as he always had, and y/n had been thoroughly overjoyed when she caught a glimpse of the title, Schizophrenia Genesis. it was a book that y/n had picked up for some light reading and she had thoroughly enjoyed it. She watched as he took his place at the booth in the back corner and flipped to a page he was presumably reading before and once again began flipping through it. He was such an intriguing creature and y/n … the day she would talk to him. She decided it was going to be today.

“Hey,” Jayne came up behind y/n, lightly touching her on her shoulder. She jumped and turned around, looking at her colleague who simply grinned at her.

“Andrew and I were thinking of taking our break now seeing as it's not too busy,” she said, pointing at Andrew who was standing in the door frame behind her holding two cups of coffee, “Do you want to join?”

“Yeah.” y/n nodded, “but I'm going to take it on my own if that's alright,” she continued, sending an apologetic smile towards her colleague, taking her apron off and placing it on the counter behind her, quickly washing her hands and drying it using napkins. Jayne smiled, nodding, making her way past Andrew and to the break room.

Y/n walked up to Andrew, who was still waiting at the door with a cup for her and took the cup from him, throwing a quick smile at him and mumbling a “thank you” before sauntering over to the boy she had been fascinated by, making sure to take a handful of sugar packets as she passed the condiments station.

“I really enjoyed that book. Are you sure you're even reading that?” she questioned the boy, sliding into the seat opposite him and placing down the cup of coffee in front of him, alongside the sugar packets.

The boy looked up at her and his face fell flat as he pushed his fringe back and tucked it behind his ear, his voice came out small and defensive, “of course, I'm reading it.”

Y/n nodded her head slowly, “of course you are,” she responded with a smile, pushing the coffee cup towards him.

He stared at her, his face expressionless if not for the slight raise of an eyebrow, “I can - er - read at 20,000 words per minute.” he stated, his eyes glancing down at the cup Y/n had ushed in front of him.

“Americano, it's on the house,” she said eventually, “You’ve been here an hour just reading and haven't ordered anything, you must be really interested in schizophrenia,” she joked. “ and 20,000 words, wow. Genius boy” she continued, her eyes widening at his comment, a small smile still playing on her lips.

The boy looked at her, “thank you.”

Y/n nodded at him as she watched him reach for the cup, grabbing it and taking a small swing of it, grimacing.

She slide over the many sugar packets she took and watched him pour all but one into the cup, using the straw to mix them in. He took a sip again and nodded approving at his sugar-filled drink.

“Would you like me to get some more coffee to add to your sugar?” she joked, giggling. She found the boy amusing. He couldn't be much older than her yet it seemed he was bewitched by a book - which now lay closed on the table - that was classed as a graduate-level read.

He laughed with her but stopped as Y/n gasped, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes widened.

“I didn't even introduce myself, my name is y/n,” she started, outstretching her hands towards him, “but Y/n/n is fine, that's what everyone else calls me.” the smile that was present when she first sat in front of him, found its way back onto her face.

The boy simply stared at her hand and nodded, “I'm Spencer.”

Y/n put her hand back down and nodded her head,

Spencer nodded his head, awkwardly, taking a sip of his coffee before looking back down at his book and continuing to read.

She watched him for a few minutes, before looking up at the clock on the wall and gasping. Y/n slid out of the booth, pushing herself to her feet, “my breaks nearly over, we can do this again… if you want to that is…” she trailed off, apologetically.

“Okay.” he replied simply, giving her a quick glance before returning his attention to the book of which he was half way through.

Y/n nodded her head before taking her apron off the counter she had left it on and putting it on, taking her place behind the counter, which seemed to be incredibly good timing, as a customer had just walked in.

——————————————————————————————————

it had quickly become a daily occurrence. Spencer would walk in - with a different book - every day, and sit in that exact booth (as he always did) and she would make him a coffee and sit with him during her breaks. Keeping each other company as they made small talk, usually updating each other about their day so far. As Spencer became more comfortable with her, he would ramble on about statistics and facts about what she had been telling him about, and she loved it, listening intently every time.

A week turned into a month and a month tuned into an entire year and the two quickly became friends, despite barely even knowing the basics about each other.

This day was as normal as any other day, Y/n had assumed, until she had watched Spencer bite his lip and fiddle with the corner of the page he was reading, taking glances up at her every once in a while, as she stood at the counter.

She kept her eyes on the clock and as soon as her break time was displayed on it, she pulled her apron off - throwing an apologetic look towards the customer who had just shown up, and hollering for Jayne for came quickly and took y/n’s place at the counter - placing it on the chair in the back room, and practically running towards spencers booth, taking a seat parallel to him.

Y/n leaned back in the seat and watched the way he pushed back his long brown hair that fell in front of his face, before looking up at her and smiling - she of course reciprocated that smile.

“Have you ever thought about cutting your hair? Just a bit shorter, of course, just to keep it out of your face… you know, since you keep pushing it back and it might just be eas-”

“i haven’t actually,” he stated, cutting her rambling short, the smile still resting on his lips.

She smiled back at him, mumbling a little sorry, which he shook his head at.

“I’m- er - I’ve been recruited to join the FBI,” he mumbled quickly, “and er- I'm leaving in a month's time,” He looked at her sheepishly.

She looked at him incredulously, “The FBI? Why? Aren't you a little too young? I mean, you have 3 PhDs, don't you want to do something else?”

Spencer closed his book before sitting up straight and shrugging, “um- well- yes. I’m only 22 and I got offered a position with the behavioral analysis unit, so I er- thought why not. Maths and statistics and such things don't feel complex enough, so I think it’ll be a challenge, you know, Dissecting the human brain… in a philosophical sense”

She nodded along, “So you’ll be moving to Virginia then, I'm guessing”

“They're sorting out an apartment for me in D.C, so I’ll just have to take the subway to Quantico. Or get a car.” He shrugged

“Oh.”

She looked at him, giving him a small smile.

She didn't know how to feel. She felt happy for him at first, he was moving up in the world, and doing something she knew he was going to enjoy - Spencer liked puzzles and always complained to her how easy they were - picking apart the human brain and finding the unsub, such a job seemed to be right up his lane and she was truly happy for him. At the same time, she felt hurt, he was the only real friend she had. He was going to be so far from her. She wouldn't get to see him every day. She wouldn't see his smile when she complimented him on his outfits, or the slight roll of his eyes when she teased him about actually being able to read the book he brought in. She wouldn't see him for who knows how long, and she wasn't ready for this change. She wasn’t ready to lose the one person she could call a friend, not yet anyway but she would tell he was happy - no matter how nervous he was - and excited and so she didn't want to burst his bubble.

Y/n smiled at him, wide, and tried to convince herself that she was happy for him.

——————————————————————————————————

The next week, Spencer showed up at his usual time, the same book from the day before clutched in his hand, and took a seat at his usual spot.

Y/n sighed as she watched him. She was going to miss this - being able to look over at the corner and see her friend was something that made her smile. The simple thought that she had a friend despite having to live in secrecy made her smile. And so when she saw him simply place the book on the table and not even open it as he looked up at her, she left her place at the counter and slid into the seat opposite him, wanting to spend as much time as possible with him before he left.

Spencer smiled at her not saying a word as he took in her appearance, printing this image of her into his mind, knowing he possibly wouldn't get to see

it was also when y/n l/n decided, she didn't have to live like a recluse to fulfill her duties. She too was allowed to have a little bit of happiness, and as she shook Spencer Reid’s hand, she knew; he was going to be her happiness. And as she watched his eyes crinkle, and the corners of his mouth turn upwards, she decided; She would leave this life and she too would try to be his happiness.

She didn't know what came over her when the words fell out of her mouth.

“Let me come with you.”

Spencer stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as he thought of what to say, “I- er- What?”

“I know it's kind of weird, scratch that, it's incredibly weird, but you're like my only friend and I know we won't be able to talk when you were gone. Actually, we’re not even meant to be talking no-” she started rambling, and was very thankful when he cut her off.

“I couldn't possibly ask that of you.”

Y/n exhaled thankfully when she realised he didn't pick up on what she had blurted out at the end, thanking her lucky stars silently.

“You're not asking me, I'm asking you. If you let me, I want to come with you.”

Spencer stared at her, his face expressionless, “I don't even know what to say…”

“I promise I won't be a burden. I’ll get a job..” she started, she was thinking about putting her degree in medicine to good use, “and I’ll help finance everything… I promise.” she was begging at this point, sounding so desperate, even though she was shocked with herself.

Taking a drink of his coffee, which was cold at this point, Spencer sat deep in thought for a few minutes, y/n staring at him expectantly.

Slowing nodded his head he started, “Okay, I guess you can come with…”

Y/n didn't know what came over her as she leaned over the table pulling Spencer into a hug, whispering thank you’s into his ear as he stood awkwardly, having been pulled up forcefully, keeping his hands to the side, clutching his coffee cup not wanting any to spill.

Y/n let go of him when she realised what she was doing and awkwardly dusted off his shoulders, patting his arm twice before muttering a “thank you” and “text me the details of when we leave” before walking into the staff breakroom, trying to come up with discrete ways you could hand in your resignation.

To say she was excited was an understatement. She couldn't wait to leave the uneventful Las Vegas and go somewhere new, no matter how much she liked the predictability of her every day, and she couldn't wait to start a new life in Washington D.C. with her best friend.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #cm fanfic #cm fic

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years

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Ineffable (Dream of the Endless x f!Reader) - Chapter 5: Distraction

Also with Corinthian x f!Reader

Masterlist - Playlist

The Reader finds out more about Amelia, and her connection with Morpheus. Despite his reluctance, Morpheus opens up to the Reader, and they share a moment.

She was my lover.

I had stilled in my seat.

But of course, I had knowledge of Morpheus' past lovers. As an anthropomorphic being who has been around since the beginning of time, it would only make sense for him to have had a number of lovers. I can imagine being an Endless can get quite lonely, albeit connection may not be as big of a priority as it is for mere human mortals.

One afternoon, Lucienne and I had been conducting research in her library, when the subject of Calliope came up. I had to improve my knowledge of Greek deities, due to a case with the Greek goddess Atë.

An unsuspecting farmer had been tricked into becoming her lover, and once the spell had been broken, he left her for a baker's daughter in his village. His true love. The ruinous Atë then proceeded to exact her revenge by plaguing the poor farmer's slumbers, resulting in his development of chronic illnesses.

Morpheus had tasked Lucienne, Gault and myself to handle this one matter, hence our extensive library sessions for that month.

"The nine muses, daughter of Zeus and Mnemosyne, were goddesses of arts and sciences. The youngest of which being Calliope..." I had read aloud, when I was interrupted by Lucienne's soft sigh.

"Calliope..." She breathed, with a caring smile.

"Have you come across her before?" I inquired. I was and still am fascinated by how Morpheus and his creations had interacted with these beings, such as gods and goddesses, angels and demons, sorcerers and witches, among many others. Notwithstanding the fact that I was still reeling from my discovery of the existence of Morpheus and the other Endless. This was the stuff of stories, dreams, fantasies. None of this was a part of any regular, normal life.

But of course, I suppose I threw all normalcy out the window the moment I could intercept thoughts and move things with my mind. My ability to manipulate dreams only compounded things further.

Lucienne had told me of Morpheus and Calliope, and of their great love, and of their great tragedy. Once I discovered that Morpheus had just recently rescued her from a prolonged, cruel period of captivity, I could not help but feel for this beautiful and gentle goddess. In essence, a woman who will mourn the loss of her beloved son for eternity, who had lost the love of her life due to tragic circumstance.

Even then, that selfish nagging part of me had pulled at my vanity and my insecurities. I had asked myself how I could ever be worthy of catching the eye of the Lord of Dreams. Me, a dysfunctional yet relatively ordinary human, who was not a goddess nor a warrior queen.

I was just me.

Notwithstanding my unexplained powers, I was still very much flawed. I get anxious, and envious, and unlike someone like Calliope, I am someone who would be more vindictive. I would not just let someone like Richard Madoc run free.

I am not as gracious. I am not eternal.

But like her, I am drawn to Morpheus in ways that I can't deny.

Unlike her, I haven't had the fulfilling pleasure of having to call Morpheus my husband.

Husband. Him. I cannot deny that the notion seems so farfetched to me. He doesn't seem like the type to commit to one individual, not because of his lack of devotion, but more so due to his autonomy. His impartial approach.

It was hard to see him favouring just one being over all else.

Which is why I was sceptical to the possibility that he was so worried over me. That he might be jealous over my closeness with Corinthian.

Again, me.

After knowing about Calliope, I had subtly discovered more about Morpheus' other lovers, including Nada, Alianora, Thessaly, and Killalla. Although, I would wager that he has had even more lovers than these. Truthfully, it had frightened me how twisted some of these relationships became. How needlessly callous Morpheus can be. How he has been able to discard these lovers, each of whom I can imagine he once pledged undying devotion to. Which now brings us to Amelia.

I hadn't heard about Amelia. Not that I am entitled to this information, the kind of which is certainly not given freely to me, apart from the instances wherein I would insert it into my research inquiries with Lucienne.

So, she may be someone whom Morpheus keeps close to his chest. The reasons for which I have yet to discover. And I have a feeling that she is also someone who had been blighted by her failed relationship with Morpheus.

All this being said, Amelia had still once been the central person to Morpheus' existence.

And I can't deny that it tugs at my heart, because I don't want to think of him with anyone else. No matter how benevolent, or amazing, or deserving they may be.

I want it to be just me.

But who am I kidding?

"Your... lover." I enunciate the words reluctantly.

"Yes. She was. Clearly our time together had ended some decades ago, but now I fear I have to see her again. We didn't really separate on good terms, and there is a reason why I have to venture out to her, so this encounter will prove to be quite a confrontation." He looks down, and out of the window again. He seems determined to look anywhere but at me.

"There must be a reason why you have to see her now. What is it?"

His brows are furrowed, and he looks at me now. There is something he is holding back, and I am determined to find out.

"You can tell me," I press further. "I would have to know eventually, no? If I would have to dedicate my precious time to solving all this with you."

"Yes, you're right. But maybe now's not the time. Let me take you home."

How do I deal with this guy? He had just sent Cor away so we could discuss this mission in private, and now, he seems barely willing to clue me in past the main objective.

I relent. Some time later, when we reach the door to my apartment, I can barely hold myself up, the effects of the drug still in my body.

Morpheus hovers over me, probably prepared to prop me up if necessary, and I don't find the strength to wave him away. I'm also not sure I want to.

I open the door to my flat. "Welcome to my humble living arrangement." I say, moving out of the way so he can enter.

He walks in as if discovering a museum, his gaze lingering in certain parts, his steps slow and calculated.

"Try not to get lost." I attempt some humour, and his head snaps back to me, a smile growing on his lips. He closes the door behind him, and I take my shoes off, grateful for the little comfort it brings.

"It feels as if this morning was ages ago. What a day that was." I sit on my bed, stretching my legs out in front of me.

"Truly. I'll make sure the Dreaming will offer some respite for you later.

"Oh, uhm..." I wasn't sure if I should offer him a drink or a seat, or anything really. But I wasn't bothered by him being my space. He seemed like he belonged here. As if the walls recognized him to be familiar, as if he had already left his various black coats and trousers in my wardrobe.

I imagine him waking up in my bed, getting up and putting the kettle on. But perhaps that vision is too outlandish. First of all, Morpheus does not need sleep. Second, and more importantly, I cannot envision him laying down on my bed.

Not right now, not where we stand at least.

Cor would have strolled right in here, dominating the space, laying down on my bed with arms outstretched behind him. Completely at ease. And I would have looked on fondly, sipped my coffee, chatting with him from my place in front of my laptop.

But Morpheus is different.

He feels equally at home, but exudes a certain aura that elevates his surroundings. If he does choose to lay down on my bed, I'm almost certain my bed will cave in at his presence. He looks as if he should be worshipped. These four, thin walls would never be enough to enclose him.

He turns to me, as if sensing my thoughts. "Don't humans usually offer a guest something to drink? A bite to eat?" He raises a perfect eyebrow, and tilts his head, judging me in my own flat.

"But you... uhm... would you like something to drink?" I stammer, slightly embarrassed now. I was too lost in my musings, that I looked over a simple courtesy.

"I'm only messing around." He smiles, looking down like he's bashful. Morpheus doesn't usually try his hand at humour, and I wasn't sure if that was possible. At least, he's never tried it around me.

And that smile. I once thought that whoever Morpheus chooses to smile at must be a special sort of individual, as it happens so very rarely, and now he's directing one at me. After cracking a joke.

What a strange day indeed.

"Oh." I smile in return. "Lord Morpheus is schooling me about human conventions? Well, well, feel free to sit anywhere you'd like."

Still gently smiling, he walks over to my bed, and sits down next to me.

After a moment, I bring myself to look at him and ask, "Who is Amelia?"

He doesn't seem surprised by the question. He takes a deep breath, and settles into his story. "We first met in the year of 1701. She's what most humans of that time considered to be a witch. Although, in my opinion, that term is a bit reductive for someone like her. She's... more than that. She was a strong-willed, perseverant woman who had to deal with plenty of injustices in that age." He looks into the distance, as if the memory of her lies fresh in his mind.

A witch, huh. Again, reiterating my belief of Morpheus not really being in the habit of taking ordinary lovers.

He continues, "She is descended from one of the original witches, hence, her lifespan is significantly longer than even a normal witch, and which is why she still lives today. We met when she had tried to cast a spell on her friend, in order to shield her from constant nightmares. I thought that was endearing, to say the least. Needless to say, I sensed such a spell being cast and affecting some of the Nightmares in my realm, so I sought her out. I was prepared to be stern and exacting. I wanted to let her know that she must not meddle with my realm for any reason. But..."

A lengthy pause follows. He seemed as if he was choosing the right words.

"But she won me over. After quite some time. And... we loved each other."

"Loved." I echoed his sentiment, and I wish I said something of more substance, but I couldn't find the right words.

Morpheus is not mine. I should not be feeling so wretched upon hearing of his love story with another person, but I am.

I can't help it.

"Yes." He confirms. "I will always have a deep admiration for her, but I am not in love with her anymore. We had drifted apart for a while. I ultimately decided to leave her be, when she admitted that she had fallen for the same friend that she once tried to help."

"Oh. I'm sorry." I internally chastise myself for sounding robotic, simply saying the proper thing on cue. But I can't deny that their drifting apart made me pleased, at least for my sake, but I don't wish Morpheus any heartache.

"I'm not." He turns to look at me. "There's a reason why things unfolded that way. It was better for the both of us. And given the chance, she's not the one I want to be with anymore. I'm sure she'd say the same about me."

"No way, you? The Lord of Dreams? You're quite a catch." I punch his shoulder playfully, my nervousness directing my actions. I almost cringe at myself.

But then he says, "You're... unique, you know? So... unruffled. I've just shared a tale with not such a perfect ending, and you respond with a witty quip."

"I guess I've just dealt with a lot of worse things, and I tend to use my sarcasm as a shield. Amuses you well enough, though?"

"That it does."

He holds my gaze, and a few loud heartbeats later, I could swear I caught him leaning forward about an inch before he appears to catch himself, and moves back slightly.

"I hope you know that since you first joined us, I never wished for you to encounter dangerous situations like these. You may have abilities, but you can still get hurt. And I don't want that." His body continues to be angled towards mine, and I feel compelled to profess a similar sentiment.

"I appreciate that. But you don't have to worry so much about me. I may get into trouble sometimes, but I do my best to be aware, and to be prepared." I say, my voice softer than normal. We have been physically close like this before, times when we had to huddle over something in the library, or on a mission or task when we would have to be quiet and move closer so as to not alert anyone.

But this feels different. This feels more intimate. Closeness without any sense of urgency, and not simply being situational.

My hand lays beside me, and I freeze when he places his hand above it.

He stares at our hands together, like he is pondering over something.

I think back to what he said earlier, about how, given the chance, Amelia would not be the one he would want to be with. A feeling of hope bubbles in my chest, and with newfound bravery, I want to ask him about it.

But in that moment he says, "Perhaps you should rest. Sleep off the effects of the drug in your system. There can't be much left, but it's better to just rest."

He takes his hand off of mine, and I immediately feel the lack.

I sigh, "You're probably right." I still felt groggy, and I definitely needed a shower. Or two.

Standing up, I say, "I'll just get cleaned up, then go to bed. I'll see you in the Dreaming?"

"Always."

"Oh, and, I'm sorry I maybe didn't say this earlier but thank you. Really. For helping us. For everything that you do for me."

He stands, and nods at me, hands in his pockets. It seems like he's returned to the safety of his shell yet again. Different from the Morpheus who held my hand moments ago.

I'm not having that.

I take a few strides towards him, and before he could protest, I wrap my arms around him, squeezing gently and resting my head on his chest.

I feel him tense, and eventually relax, resting his hands on my lower back.

"Thanks again." I whisper, pulling back to look at him.

He gives me a delicate smile once more.

"Anytime, love."

End of chapter 5.

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This chapter's shorter, and more mellow, but I feel like they needed a moment, after previous events.

It's a slooow burn, I know, but I prefer it this way, as much as we'd like to jump Dreamboat's bones already. 😅

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sister-cna-reader · 5 months

Note

Imagine older Bill has a protocol for the family for when Becky has her period. And has already made plans when their daughters reach woman hood too.

*cough* Anon you don't know the plot bunnies you've caused.

Muscle💪 and Beauty💅 Family my beloved💕

A resident of Berlint had to remember: An Imperial Scholar had to be well rounded, and not just a one trick pony.

At first glance, Imperial Scholar Watkins was merely an athlete, all of his accolades sports based and not a light bulb between those bespectaled eyes.

But the students knew better. Bill Watkins was both brawn and brains. One of the most mathematically inclined of their grade band, his Stellas divided between athletics and his top placements in math.

Becky Blackbell knew Bill even better than that. She knew he was a straightforward type of guy, earnest, honest, respectful (it took a few years to get on a first name basis from him) and above all: A massive nerd.

Everyone had their own niche, special interest, passion -whatever you wanted to call it.

Anya’s was Classical Language and decoding.

Becky’s was television and movie production.

And Bill’s was pattern recognition. His grand project for Eden was disproving the connection between discipline spikes and the Full Moon. He was 3 years deep into it, and still had a year to go, his methodical data collecting now reduced to a mere 20 minutes twice a week.

He was getting bored with it and Bill craved the intellectual stimulation.

Then they had biology class on the reproductive system.

Eden was disciplined and detached the way they presented the lectures, dry as field rations and so detailed that they were more stressed about the tests surrounding it over the impact on their social lives.

It was complicated.

And Bill loved every moment of it. The way hormones peaked and waned, cyclical in nature by design or by fluke. It spoke to his number bent mind. He absorbed the information like a sponge and was more then happy to volunteer his time to tutor on the subject.

The girls in his hall were just grateful this translated into their everyday life by his readiness with discreet period supplies in his sports duffel at their disposal if they were ever in need. Pads, tampons, and even some individual chocolates were in their hands with a mere code phrase.

Becky had mostly forgotten about this, a mere quirk of their school days she had dismissed as a passing fancy. And as they were in two different halls, she never quite understood the impact Bill had on Wald Hall’s female expectations for their future partners.

But then she found the calender in his office when they were dating.

It was a notebook agenda flipped open to the previous month, the moon stages denoted in symbols and a rainbow of other symbols in red, green, blue, and purple scattered throughout the boxes.

She found a Saturday, one they had gone out to a date on. The moon was crescent, accompanying it was a red heart, a smiley face with a dash on either side, and a blue X.

Becky recalled the night, she’d been in a good mood, talking his ear off about the production she was on and they’d had a wildly passionate night in a nearby hotel.

The next Saturday the moon was nearly full, and they had another date, but he’d cut the night short- citing a stomach ache. The Red Heart had an X through it and a blue O.

She looked at the date of their most recent outing, and the Heart was without an X again but the Blue mark was now a question mark.

What in the world was he tracking?

“I’m ready if you are.” Bill’s voice said from the doorway, startling Becky something fierce as once again his silent steps and uncanny stealthiness caught her red handed.

His eyes flickered to the notebook calender and his cheeks turned a bright red.

“What is this?” She asked lightly, a giggle coming from her throat.

“You weren’t supposed to see it.” was his only answer.

“... Were you tracking our dates?” she rallied, keeping her tone gentle- if not humorous.

The broad statured man shuffled on his feet, twisting his fingers together in embarrassment. “Among other things…” he mumbled.

“Like what?”

At that he covered his face with both hands and she knew exactly what he was keeping track of.

“Did you bail on that date because you thought I was on my period?” she stabbed, if only to get him to confirm. “Because I wasn’t you kn-”

He let out a strangled groan and shook his head. “Opposite actually. I think.”

This made Becky’s face flare into a blush. “Bill!”

“I didn’t mean to!” He almost wailed, mortified and rattling his defense, “It was just an idle thing when I was bored but then I got interested in it! I didn’t mean any harm by it! Promise!”

He took a deep breath, and she could only look on in fondness as his words flowed on.

“I just wanted to be sure you were comfortable, and we hadn’t talked about birth control. I didn’t have any protection on me that night and I didn’t want you to be disappointed- so I bailed. Then I thought it’d be a great idea to keep tracking it just in case so I’d be prepared and you must think I’m the worst…”

Oh my giant nerd. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let her head drop against his chest. “You’re not going to sell my health information to creeps are you?”

She could feel the indignation in the way his ribs expanded with a gasp. He clutched her close, his large hands hot against her back. “I’d never do that to you.” he growled.

“Are you tracking anyone else’s?”

“No!”

“How long have you been doing this?” She couldn’t help but ask.

He hugged her tighter, “Only two months.”

Bill kissed the top of her head and softened a little. “You get so tired during your periods, and I just wanted to be helpful and not push you or do something stupid.”

“So you’re tracking my period.”

“Yes”

She couldn’t stay mad at him for very long- at least for something so odd. “I don’t even bother to track my period so closely.”

“It’s not like I have reliable data from two months anyway,” he mumbled, embarrassment still evident in his tone. “I can toss it.”

“Alright Smarty Pants, I’ll let you know when it starts getting creepy.” Becky pulled herself up and gave him a kiss on the lips. “So are we good for this date now?”

The next lady who became a beneficiary from Bill’s ultra prepared personality was not Anya - for she had long been a recipient of supplies and food since childhood, nor was it his daughters- they were still too young.

It was his oldest son’s study partner, Victoria.

No one could blame her for asking which drawer in the spacious bathroom had the feminine supplies. It was bound to happen eventually for a young lady to need the stash. Upholstery could be washed and the uniform was black, so really it was just a mortifying experience- not world ending.

Wanting to be sure he wouldn’t motify her any more, Robert seeked out help while she was in the power room.

But Lily was adamant that her older brother should’ve been more of a gentleman and initiate Protocol Luna.

The Protocol that had been in rotation since before any of them were born.

“Lily, can you help Victoria find something to wear?” Robert wheedled to his baby sister.

Lily, in true little sister fashion crossed her arms and gave her best harumph. “She’s your girlfriend. You ask Mom for clothes she can borrow.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he hissed. “We’re just studying for finals! She won’t look me in the eye ever again if I bring it up!”

“If you don’t do it, I’ll tell Dad it’s a Code Luna.”

“You wouldn’t”

“I would.”

They stared each other- daring, neither wanting to back down. The Boys learned to never pull in their parents to their disagreements, having learned long ago that tattling would earn them burpees and enough laps to make them want to collapse.

The girls had recognized this behavior and turned it into the most nuclear option.

One- two- three heartbeats and Lily was out the door careening down the hall from her brother’s bedroom. Her speed overcame any difference between their heights as the little girl tore down to the study where their Father sat reading the paper.

With a mighty jump, she landed into his strong arms, crumpling the sport’s section in her haste.

“Daddy! Robert’s girlfriend has a Code Luna!” she panted.

Bill blinked and readjusted his glasses. “And why am I being told this?”

“You little gremlin-!” Robert panted, finally arriving- winded from his sprint. “She’s not- my - girlfriend!”

“A very serious accusation.” Bill nodded, eyeing his son with a smile. “Should I go help her myself?”

The thought of his giant, honest to a fault father talking to his tiny, timid classmate about bodily functions was the stuff of social nightmares. Victoria might actually short circuit from embarrassment.

(And never talk to him again)

“DAD!” Robert moaned in frustration. “That’s worse!”

Thunder cracked overhead, rattling the windows. The rain that had been pouring all day intensified.

Wrapping an arm around his daughter, the father of the house stood.

“If she isn’t taken care of by the time I get cookies in the oven, I’ll make you twice as embarassed. And I’ll tell your mother you’ve started dating without telling her.”

Lily smirked, curling up like a cat in her father’s arms. Got you.

“You’re all the worst!” the teen hissed with no real heat behind it.

A scant half hour later, Bill arrived with a plate of cookies. They were still warm from the oven, laden with dark chocolate chips and chewy oatmeal.

Robert could see the light behind Victoria’s eyes brighten as she marveled at the size of the treats. He grabbed one out of courtesy and pushed the plate towards her side of the coffee table.

“Have as many as you want.”

“Of course, she’ll have to stay the night!” Becky said later at the dinner table, feeding her youngest bites. “The rain is just awful, isn’t it dear?”

Bill nodded. “She’ll take the guest room with the adjoining bathroom of course.”

“Oh I’ve already imposed enough,” the meek guest said, looking tiny in both personality and stature amidst the Waktin’s brood. Her borrowed outfit from Becky looked good, but she held herself stiffly, afraid to stain the garments like she had her uniform.

Robert did his very best not to hang his head in mortification. “Don’t worry Vicky, there’s enough space for all of us plus the Desmonds.”

Victoria still sported a faint blush that had been present ever since she had arrived.

“So are you a tea or coffee person? Waffles or Pancakes? Do you have a milk intolerance?” Mrs. Watkins already had a writing pad out, jotting down everything she could think of for an overnight guest. “Of course, I’ll let you have the pick of some pajamas for tonight…”

“I’m so so so sorry for being such a hassle.”

Victoria had found him in the hall, blessedly empty of other family members. Robert hesitantly put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. It startled a “meep” out of her and he snatched it back.

He attempted to reassure her in another way. “If you were a hassle, Dad wouldn’t have offered for you to stay over. And, like- he’s such a stupidly prepared person! I don’t think anything you do will shock him.”

She fidgeted with her fingers and her lip quivered ever so slightly. “So they won’t mind if I come back?”

Sometimes he forgot that Victoria was a dorm kid and didn’t have much contact with her guardians. “I promise they won’t mind. They’ll welcome you back any time I’m sure.”

Just down the hall, around the corner, and out of sight of the teens, Becky stifled her squeal behind one hand and slapped Bill’s chest in excitement with the other.

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