#sometimes i only hear the first three chords but i still like waking up to it

[maniacace]

sometimes i think jatp doesn't mean that much to me anymore and then i can't change my alarm tone to anything other than now or never

[lillysbigwilly]

gf!ellie headcanons

starting off, ellie would introduce you as ‘the mrs’ or ‘my wife WHEREVER you go. i mean everyone, would hear those words whenever your in view

“oh look there’s the mrs now” or “there’s my wife”

quite nights in with gf!ellie >>>

she’d 100% play guitar and hum songs when you’ve had a long day and need sleep

couldn’t believe you actually agreed to go out with her originally, she genuinely thought you where straight until you blabbed about your ex girlfriend one night

will drag you everywhere with her. seriously if this woman needs a piss at 3 in the morning you best believe she is waking you up just so she can use the toilet while you stand lazily by the door

VERY protective over you, im not joking. if your on patrol together, she’ll always be behind you so nothing can jump at you without you realising

she tries not to let you kill anything, whether it’s infected or raiders but when you do team up to kill a large group of infected. your an undeniably good team.

ellie will (and this isn’t up for discussion) always talk through arguments. there is no going to bed angry with ellie as a girlfriend. everything is sorted within the hour.

you two are the centre of attention at Jackson parties. not only because your one of the few lesbian couples there but because after a few drinks, you both get quite handsy and dance carelessly together

the first kiss with ellie definitely happened randomly. maybe you were making food and ellie just walks in, grabs your face and kisses you.

you where the first to say ‘i love you’ because ellie was scared that admitting it aloud would be stupid. everyone she has loved before, had died.

it would be a cute moment though. just imagine sitting on the couch with ellie whilst she plays the guitar. your just admiring her with a smile as she strums chords and puts together a little tune.

you just couldn’t help but blurt out those three words. ellie’s movements stilled as she looked up at you, her eyes wide and her mouth open

she will so casually pull one of these after you say what you said

you knew she wouldn’t say it back but once she composed herself she just gives you a smile and grabs your hand, bringing your knuckles up to her lips

it would take her a while to say it back. it would probably be after either you or her get injured pretty badly.

speaking of injuries, she wouldn’t let you touch a single wound. ellie would clean and dress them while you just sit there watching her with an amused smile

sometimes, ellie would get on your nerves with how late she has a tendency to stay up to. you’ll be in bed and you’ll hear ellie screaming at the tv (either at a game or a film). knowing she got into bed with you at eleven, you checked the clock and saw it was 2am

if ellie wakes up before you (which is incredibly rare) she’ll bring you whatever food was being served in the dining hall and a coffee for you to have breakfast in bed.

gf!ellie would 100% get a tattoo that reminded her of you. something like a flower or an object that you loved

no thoughts just gf!ellie

[mariposa-traicionera79]

Depression is like a darkness that consumes your lite.

For me it's a messy room, lots of sleep, lots of drinking, dreams of suicide, 5:50 pm antidepressants, not color coding my wardrobe. It's the same song on repeat for weeks, it's crying because I can't find my keys or because the shower is taking too long to get warm. My depression started in 2017 and hit the worst in 2019. Lately, I've been struggling to find the light again. I could be laughing with my friends then 2 seconds later thinking about an empty apartment and wondering how long it will take them to find my body. Fighting depression is exhausting, fighting for something that should just come natural is even harder because why wasn't I good enough for that gene? Why does everything in this life have to be a fucking war? I'm fighting for my life with duct tape, an empty paper towel roll and string. I'm trying so hard to stay in one piece, like when I wake up in the morning there's a process and procedure. first step: tape the roll to my neck to keep my head up. Step two: Tape a limb back on and slide to the edge of the bed. Sometimes it's my arm from being under the pillow as I hold him as though he's the flotation device keeping me afloat. Keeping me from sinking to the bottom of the darkness. Sometimes it's a leg because he pulled away in the midst of the night to sleep at the edge of the bed because the simple thought of touching me disrupted his rest. His coldness has caused frostbite and I can no longer move my leg willingly. tape it back on and move to.. Step three: have to tie strings to my feet to get myself out of bed like l'm my own puppet master.

My days are cut into 2 hour increments. Once he leaves for work I have 2 hours to get out of bed and rid my morning voice so nobody at work asks what’s wrong. 2 hours after starting work until it is my first break. Break: when I roll from the computer to slide back into bed and close my eyes pleading..willing for death to overtake my body. Break: slide back into bed but don’t touch the floor because the floor is lava and touching it gives my body goosebumps which reminds me I’m still alive. I text him.. he texts me back at the end of my break. Timer goes off and I have 2 hours until lunch.. I clear my throat “ready?” I say like I’m shaking ants off a popsicle, trying to shake the sadness off my vocal chords. Back to pretending like I care that people’s shipments are late and it’s a life or death situation if they don’t get it instantly. Like my skin isn’t burning.. waiting to slip off my bones. Like my heart isn’t teasing me with the pounding in my ears.. speeding up and slowing down to show me it’s not my choice to live or die.

Lunch hits.. set the timer for 15 minutes text him again ‘how’s lunch?’ Now to rush and take the dog out. Dreading the sight of my neighbors and that fake smile and nod when one crosses my path. 8 of 15 left to finish the dishes and throw some laundry in. Not eating. My stomach is aching and growling: not because I’m not hungry but because the sight of my naked body makes me gag. “I’m not hungry, I’m not hungry, you’re not hungry. Plenty of fat to eat if you’re hungry Body.. “ I say..dishes are done, hands are still wet and dripping, leaving a trail back to the room. -Just in case If someone comes in the path will glow and say ‘just follow the drops you’ll find me in bed.’ I keep thinking “If only this heart will finally give out and I can exhale the stress, the depression, the worthlessness- “Avoid the mirror, don’t look left. The bed is just right there.. “ I say in my head…crawl in bed, timer reset for 14 min and eyes closed. “You’re not good enough, even for death. Not even death wants you” over and over again in my head. He’s been on lunch 20 min and finally a text back.. Timer goes off. The floor is lava slide back into the chair and pull the smile from my back pocket and adjust it on my face like a pair of dentures. “Hello?” I say out loud.. “can you hear the smile in your voice?” To shake off the emptiness , the sadness that echoes rings in my ears.

He and I exchange messages but by then every single insecurity and thought has already crossed my mind. His attention isn’t on me, he’s distracted and he’s doing something else. Entertaining someone else or he’s looking at porn. “Don’t nag him you’re just pushing him away” I distract myself with co workers as my arms feel cold and my finger tips tingle as I text him like everything’s good.

Last break timer set for 14 minutes Time to make the bed. Gotta pretend like I’m ok. I can breathe ok, the day is almost over.. just a little while longer. Change my clothes. Wash up and avoid the fucking mirror like there’s a demon staring back at me and I’m afraid to look it in the eyes or it will take my whole family. “Small mirrors for your eyes only, B” i say again and again. I wipe the boogies from my eyes, practice smiling, put a bra and pants on. Time to take the dog out last time. Run back inside and change the laundry.. if I’m lucky I can lay down for the last 3 minutes until the timer is screaming at me to get the fuck up and finish my day.

Time to clock out time to prepare dinner and tuck my feelings into the bottom of the laundry, but sometimes if I don’t have time I hide them under my side of the mattress and sleep on them overnight. By the morning my back aches from the lump I’m trying to hide in the mattress. “I don’t think he noticed, he’s too distracted to notice. She must be amazing” I say as I roll to his side to alleviate my bones. Sometimes I beg for answers and he tells me I’m crazy that I’m insecure and if he’s not with me he’s at work with other people around so he doesn’t have time. I HATE MYSELF MORE why can’t I accept that nothing is wrong and we’re doing ok? Why are my thoughts deceiving me and why is the residue of my worthlessness smearing, smudging, tainting our love? Why can’t I just let myself believe? You know one time I tried to tell him how dark my days have gotten and he looked at me with a spark. I felt electricity in his touch for a whole week before it faded away. It was nostalgic, like when he used to desire me, he used to look at me like I was a unicorn and he was undeserving of me.

Snap back to reality and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I realize it’s been weeks since he’s touched me, since he’s complimented me, since he’s asked me for sex or anything sexual. “You’re not her, you’re not them, you’re not enough. You’re disgusting!!!! YOU CANT EVEN LOOK AT YOUR OWN FUCKING BODY!!! WHY WOULD HE WANT YOU?????” I scoff because I realize showering together is a distraction. He’s tired, I’m tired that’s how we feel after every shower…. Until I tell him. I’m gonna dig because I can sense his dishonesty. He says do it, you won’t find anything. *record scratch* I’m right EVERY. FUCKING.THING. I felt in my bones, in my gut, in my mind was right. He made me feel crazy. Like I was being insecure. Like he was being honest and shaming me for not believing him. I felt damaged. I felt unworthy of the truth. I felt like it was me but I was right. My ache is deeper. Because even if I was right. HE PROVED ME RIGHT. I’m ashamed because not even I trust me enough to be honest with myself to believe my gut, my intuition, my third eye. I’m realizing how lost I am and as I look for me I’m digging into this chest pulling out all his mistakes and lies like scarves I’ve buried myself in. I know I’m in there and I’ll find my own way out. This was just the first step. It’s ok, I’m fighting this war for me, for myself with duct tape, string and paper towel roll in hand. Nobody got me, but me.

[celandeline]

Disagreements (Eddie Munson x Reader) (Part Four)

Your pillow was moving under you. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to find that comfortable place you had been in before. You wound an arm underneath it, only to find something hard and leathery… something that definitely wasn’t your pillow.

“Woah baby…” A soft low voice rumbled from above you. “Sticking your hand in my pants first thing, huh?”

You opened your eyes to see Eddie. Your face was pressed against his stomach, the hand you thought had been around your pillow wedged between the skin of his back and his belt. Groggily, you sat up. You must have fallen asleep after Cannibal Holocaust…

“Sorry.” You said, pulling your hand back out of Eddie’s pants. “I was half asleep.”

“Hey, if you want to, be my guest.” Eddie said, a sleepy chuckle on the edge of his voice.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to fully wake up, taking in your surroundings. Eddie’s trailer looked different during the daytime, more cluttered than you originally thought. The time on the digital clock read 10:02 - it was a good thing it was Saturday.

Eddie shifted under you, using one hand to scoop you up off of him and onto the couch cushions. You let him, settling into the sofa with a satisfied sigh. For a couch in a trailer, it was pretty comfortable.

Eddie stood up, stretching his arms up over his head so his shirt rode up, exposing his lower stomach. “Sorry about keeping you overnight.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You said. “My fault I fell asleep during the movie.”

“Still.” Eddie said, meandering over to the kitchen. “Least I could do is fix you some breakfast.”

You sat up, rolling your neck a bit. “I’m not gonna say no to that.”

“Awesome.” Eddie said. “How does frozen waffles sound?”

You smiled - of course he would pick frozen waffles. You would t be surprised if every meal he ate was ready made, easily tossed in the toaster oven and done within 3-5 minutes. “Sounds good to me.”

You got up from the sofa, making your way into the kitchen and taking a seat on an empty stretch of counter space, watching as Eddie prepared breakfast. He flipped on the radio, already preset to the local rock station. As he worked he bobbed his head along to the song, muttering the words under his breath.

“You know, I can play this song.” Eddie said, pulling two waffles out of the toaster and plopping them on a plate.

“Can you?” You asked, accepting the plate as he handed it to you.

Eddie shrugged, but you could tell he was proud. “Yeah. It’s not that hard - really only three chords. The stuff I write myself is harder than this.”

You bit into one of your waffles. “You write stuff too? You’ll have to play something for me sometime.”

Eddie glanced over at you, eyes running over your face as if to assess your sincerity. “Really?”

“Yeah?” You said, laughing a bit. “You seem like you’d be really good at music, so why wouldn’t I want to hear you play?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Eddie said, plucking his own breakfast for the toaster. “Definitely.” He paused. “If you’re not doing anything today, we could…”

You sighed. “As much as that would be fun, I should probably get home after this. I don’t want my parents to be too worried. Plus, Pam’s coming over later today.”

“Right.” Eddie said. “Yeah. Another time then.”

A brief moment of silence passed over you. “Maybe that can be the third date.” You said.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Third date, huh?” He asked.

“If you want.” You said.

“If I want.” Eddie mocked. “Obviously I want - why do you think I asked you out in the first place?”

“You more told me out.” You said. “There wasn’t much asking done.”

“Okay… but was I wrong?” Eddie asked. “You’ve said it yourself, you’re having a great time hanging out with me. You totally have a thing for me.”

“I don’t know about that.” You said. “It’s only been two dates-“

“Two and a half!” Eddie said, pointing at the breakfast he had made you. “And it’s about to be three!”

“We haven’t even kissed.” You said.

“We can fix that right now if you want.” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows at you, seductively biting into his waffle.

You snorted in laughter, finishing your own waffles. “Hurry up and finish Eddie, you have to drive me home.”

—

“Jesus Christ Eddie, that’s red-“

“Oh shit.” Eddie slammed on the brakes, narrowly stopping his van before it collided with the car in front of you, jerking you forward. “Sorry.”

You sat back, fixing your hair from the sudden motion. “You need to stop playing music you like when you drive. You can’t focus on anything but the guitar.”

“To be fair, it’s a sick solo-“ Eddie started.

“I’m not going to be able to go in any more dates if I die in a car crash.” You said.

“Point taken.” Eddie said.

The light turned green, and Eddie hit the gas again, rolling forward. You watched as he focused on the road, head still bobbing slightly to the music, but definitely more focused now. It was cute, the way you could say something offhand, or as a joke, and that he would eat up every word.

The ride to the corner by your house wasn’t long, and before you knew it, the van was coming to slow, approaching the curb. You unclipped your seatbelt, leaning forward slightly in your seat as Eddie came to a stop.

“Thanks again for breakfast.” You said. “And sorry I passed out on your couch.”

“You can pass out on my couch anytime, babe.” He said, turning to grin at you. “And I mean that - you let me know if you wanna have another little sleepover.”

“I’ll think about it.” You said, popping your door open. Before leaving the van though, you leaned over the center console to press a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks for the ride.”

Eddie’s face lit up instantly. “Woah, woah- hold on a sec.”

“What?” You laughed.

“You gotta give me a real one now.” Eddie said. “Come on, you I made you waffles.”

You pretended to ponder for a moment before leaning over the center console again, Eddie meeting you halfway to press your lips together. He kissed eagerly, but well, his lips soft against yours.

When he pulled back, it was with a smile. “Same time next week?”

“Works for me.” You said, sliding out of your seat. “I’ll see you later Eddie.”

You closed the van door and circled around to the other side, stepping onto the sidewalk to watch as Eddie pulled away, still grinning like an idiot. It wasn’t until you turned around that you saw who was sitting on your front porch, eyes wide like she’d seen a ghost.

Pam.

[obeymeluv]

The Baby Assignment [Beel]

Not gonna lie, I wanted to do Mammon next but I love this big guy, so... The names for his sons (again, from “The Boys as Dads” post) were pulled from Wikipedia after a bit of research. I wanted to see what other names and history were tied to Beelzebub and I found Hesperus and Baal.

Apparently “Baal” was used to refer to Beelzebub in the Hebrew Bible. It was technically a title meaning “Lord” but could be used to reference specific demons. “Hesperus” comes from Testament of Solomon where Beelzebul (not Beelzebub; at some points throughout history these two were separate entities and at other times they were the same figure with different names) talked about his old high-ranking status in heaven and how he was tied to the star Hesperus.

Mammon’s probably going to be next, but I have to do more name hunting.

Beel is secretly excited to be partnered with you. He’s kind of curious about how the kid will look. More human? More demon-like? The two of you stand in the circle and not one but two babies explode in little clouds

Unfortunately, they’re already crying. Whether they’re hungry or the flash of light hurt them, you don’t know. Beel’s already giving this low, comforting purr and shrugging out of his jacket to swoop them up like some little papoose. This quiets them a little.

He can’t help but giggle because they feel like little hams in his arms. Tiny roasted Devilbirds. They look on the bigger side for Devil babies but they’ve got cute round faces and big sparkly eyes already tinging with that orange glow he gets at nighttime. They are carbon copies of Beel and he’s a little sad he doesn’t see the ‘you’ in them.

They wiggle a bit in the temporary papoose but settle when one arm breaches to grab a tiny, pudgy fistful of his shirt. There’s a few moments of ‘open, close, open, close’ where you think the baby is making biscuits against his chest but he finishes up with a firm grab.

Beel ties the papoose around you so he can carry the magic trunk back to the house. You take great care in keeping the light away from them and don’t know quite how to feel yet about that orange tint to their eyes. They observe you with much interest. They’re still cute though.

You’re walking back to the house with Beel and the others when the jacket blob starts to move. You think they’re getting restless (maybe need air?) and peel it open just enough to see what’s going on. They’re trying to tear a hole in your uniform to latch. They want skin-to-skin contact. One of them has their arm down your uniform top.  The other is trying to jam their hand in there, too.

You just hold them close as you walk to the House of Lamentation. You bet by the time you get there, you’ll be missing a few buttons.

Beel sets up the trunk in his and Belphie’s room (Belphie’s seriously considering relocating to the attic for about a week) and helps you sit down. He undoes the papoose to find they’ve ripped a decent chunk out of your school uniform and are trying to hide between the fabric and your body. They’re holding hands, their other one either tucked under them or latching onto you somewhere else. It’s really cute and Beel goes beet red.

If you’re female, this gets Beel extra flustered because--for some reason? Demon brain and baby hormones?--he’s thinking about you breastfeeding two kids and being pregnant with another one.

Is he gonna be one of those guys that wants lots of kids? Probably.

He opens the trunk in search of jumpers or something that will help them keep their heat and is surprised to see insulated bags of squeeze-type baby food. All KINDS of food, actually!

He’ll have to try some for quality assurance. Does it actually have substance?

Those kids get it honest because they’re literally only an hour old and they KNOW what food packages sound like. Your uniform tears a little more because suddenly two little ginger-headed babies are watching his every mood like a hawk, heads thrust out of the little hole they made.

Beel is not a fan of opening tiny baby food portions. His hands are very big and this is a problem. He ends up puncturing the cap with a fang and squeezing some out. It works, so he hands it over.

These kids snatch food like Mammon taking a grim, okay? Watch your fingers.

Suddenly there’s a little fussy fight breaking out in your top because one baby has one and one baby has nothing. Beel can’t get the second one fast enough. He just shakes it outside the hole and hopes the empty-handed one takes it.

You tell Beel to help you out of your uniform since it’s basically ruined. Boy heats up real bad, touching your skin and everything. Big boy has it BAD!

The kids hiss and growl and cry until you set them in his jacket and make a nest. Then they’re back to being content little angels, gumming and sucking on the little pouches

“I hope all this eating means they grow fast,” Beel smiles as he takes the empty pouches and looks in the trunk again. It’s imbued with magic that only lets the ‘parents’ open it so there’s no accidents. He’s looking for other flavors as you hug the jacket nest.

Somehow you end up with a tiny little hand tangled in your hair as they try to pull you into the nest. You just lay in the middle and they lounge on you. They are BIIIIG on contact. Like to touch all the time. Very snuggly.

You’re kind of shocked but Beel is big into photography. He never answers you when you ask why, but he’s very diligent about taking pictures. They’re not always the best quality but boy never misses a moment.

After about three pouches apiece, they’ve moved onto Beel. They like to snuggle around his stomach and you joke about his ‘baby bump’. You take the pictures now. 

By the end of the night your name has a sound. They are grabbing at you and Beel at the dark, giving calls and trying to wake you up. They want to eat again.

This goes on for days 2 and 3. The twins are more active at night since their eyes don’t hurt and yours and Beel’s sleep schedule are officially messed up. Day 2 they are very vocal with their demon vocal chords, so you basically need a translator. Day 3, you’re used to their nightly disappearances and sneak down sometime after them to see Beel digging through the fridge.

“Apple? See? Apple. Ap-ple.” Beel apparently like smothering them in forehead kisses. He’s passing the food between them and suddenly it’s just three demons cooing over a piece of fruit. They’ve inherited the biting instinct because all three of them bite it at the same time.

He was fixing to wake the house with a happy yeowl about the fangs but had some sense that someone was behind him, so you’re gifted with the sight of three demons still holding onto an apple. “They go’ fanfs,” is what you think you here. Beel technically got the first purr with that one.

When the fangs come out, the food fights start. If you feed them with a spoon or fork it is LITERAL begging for them to let go so you can get more food for them.

Feeding them is a two person job, not because there are two of them, but because one of them needs to attract the biter with a different food so they let go of the utensil. 

They get teary and screechy when they’re not fed fast enough. Hesperus’ first word was “MO’!” (more) as he’s slamming his little fists on the feeding chair and puts a crack in it. Baal takes full advantage of the surprise and latches onto the spoon Beel almost drops. Another struggle ensues.

Between Day 3 and Day 4 they have the muscle strength and build to fully walk themselves. Half of the time they “skitter”. For some reason they don’t like walking upright.

Previously, you could only tell them apart with the brothers’ help (demons can differentiate demons). Now you and Beel have a color-coordinated system to tell the twins apart.

They seem to take after their Uncle Belphie and hide in unusual places. The only way you and Beel find them are by walking around the house and shaking various packages of food. You think this is a joint effort to eat more. 

Baal says ‘thank you first’ and is the gentle teether. He likes to cuddle like that. Hesperus is an avid climber that prefers to latch

Half the time you don’t know if the twins are cuddling and scenting or play fighting. They’re more energetic than you expected.

Ironically, there favorite person is Mammon. He runs fast when Lucifer scares him and they like to chase him. When they want to sleep, they go to Uncle Belphie. He’s just not energetic enough to play with. 

They’ll grab anyone’s leg and sit on them. They like to be carried like this. 

Asmo only managed to get a blurry picture of it, but somehow the twins managed to get Lucifer to drag them around by sitting on his cape. It was very cute.

They’re pretty much Beel’s shadow. They like to follow him and he regularly uses them as extra weights in his routine. Sometimes they run around the yard together. Beel tries to teach them how to play Fangol but they end up trying to gnaw the ball to death and end up wrestling for it. “At least they’re active,” he mumbles as he picks you up to keep you out of harms way

They fall asleep in the grass, fangs still trying to dig into the ball.

Day 5 and 6 they become strong talkers and always insist on going long walks. They want to look at alll the stuff! They’re probably at the age of four or five (maybe six) and Beel deems them behaved enough to see some of his favorite restaurants in the Devildom.

You eat so much you think you’ll be sick. You have three boys who will gladly help you with the rest. They fight over an extra-hard crunchy baguette and don’t seem to have the concept of sharing at this point. They’re fussing and butting heads and Beel notices their horns are breaching.

You bag everything to go and Beel offers to fly you all home since you’re absolutely stuffed. He barely hears it, but a tiny little whine is trying to harmonize with his wings. One of them has grown wings (it was Baal).

That evening is spent with Beel and Belphie gently bumping them with their horns to coax them out.

You’re constantly portioning food and trying to make it fair. Beel is a good mediator. He won’t let his kids starve by any means but if they won’t share after he’s explained (and re-explained) why it’s nice to do so, he just eats the thing so they have nothing to fight over 

They learn that lesson in the dead of night when they sneak down for their own raid and use each other (and the cabinets/drawers) like a jungle gym to get to the good stuff. Whatever they grab, they split. When Beel catches them, some kind of chocolate thing over his face, Baal looks unapologetic and Hesperus just asks if he wants a bite

Beel is not a disciplinarian. You will have to do that. 

Overall the boys are very helpful. They will help bring in groceries and clean up the yard with their uncles. They really love doing the latter because the find all kinds of bugs. They try to give them to Mammon and Lucifer but both of them hate them. A lot.

Belphie notices them and pays them in food to put bugs in Lucifer’s office and bed. No regrets. Satan joins in on this with fancy foods from his foodie connections. They are the unofficial mascots of the Lucifer Sucks Club

Day 7 involves visiting some of Beel’s club activities and the members being absolutely in love with the kids. They get them tiny Fangol jerseys and they run around with the ball. It’s a good day with lots of cute pictures.

They try to hype of the twins and put them on their shoulders but it was here you learned Baal doesn’t like Hesperus getting too far from him and DEFINITELY doesn’t like him being around a bunch of strangers. You don’t know if he thought they were taking him away, but they definitely got dive-bombed by a tiny flying ginger.

Beel has to console him and keep them together for a few hours until he calms down. Simeon overheard the commotion (actually: heard it from Solomon, who was told by Asmo) and offered to make some Celestial Treats to “share the heritage” since Beel is technically an angel.

The twins also love Luke TO DEATH and he is extremely stressed out. They’re cute but very strong and accidentally kind of rough. They chase him too. They want to climb on him; one is enough to knock him off guard and two practically smother him. Send help. 

Simeon is absolutely in love with them and the boys cuddle him and shake him down for sweets as nicely as they can. 

Diavolo may not be as close to Beelzebub as he is Lucifer, but he still wants to see the children. Demon children are a beautiful thing (and he wants an excuse to get out of work)! On Day 8, Barbatos whips up a very fancy meal which the kids are all for. They like playing hide and seek with Diavolo. You and Lucifer both about shit a brick when they take to climbing on chandeliers and up into the crevices of the castle. Hesperus learned to fly that day, and refused to come down for Lucifer.

Day 9, Barbatos and Simeon invite them to a garden-style orchard to pick fruits and vegetables. They boys are covered in dirt and have leaves in their hair but they are very proud of what they picked and can’t wait to make things to eat (they look very cute in overalls). 

Somewhere between Day 8 and 9 both boys have gotten into the habit of shucking off their shirts to let their wings stretch out. When they don’t feel like talking, they sound off with their wings. Beel has adopted this habit and can usually be seen shirtless or in one of those muscle tees with the holes in the side.

On Day 9 the boys decide they want to make a big buffet for the class since Beel took a lot of pictures. They know basic knife skills and have special protective gloves and things like that. Beel bought you all matching aprons. The whole thing goes relatively smoothly; you have a family tray ‘for sampling’, and a bigger portion that will be taken to the class

All bets are off when it comes to making desserts. It’s hard to get the batter into the pan before they’re trying to “lick the bowl clean” (it’s not even empty). You end up with two chocolate-smeared demons that Asmo very reluctantly lets into his bath. You help wash. Beel supervises and is prepared to catch these crafty, sweet gremlins in towels.

Day 10, you make your way to the classroom. The boys want to dig into the buffet (”But your friends are doing it!”) and they almost forget to do the report. They talk for a little bit, pause for a snack. It’s pure bribery. They are finished and rewarded with more food. Beel strings up all his photos at the front of the classroom as the boys sit in your lap and eat.

They make their way to the summoning circle and the teacher has a hard time determining their age. These two are built like brick houses. Are they in the upper percentile for everything or actually older? They’re either very tall eight-year-olds or the age limit goes above 10. Results are inconclusive. 

You get a B that is argued to an A on Satan and Lucifer’s behalf. The teacher tried to argue that they were a little unruly and showed a lack of discipline but duh, they’re kids!

Hesperus growled something out in pure demon and you’re not sure what it was. Judging by Belphie and Satan’s expression, it’s probably something a parent wouldn’t want their kid to say. Who knows where they picked it up from?! 

Baal just looked like he wanted to bite the guy’s nose off, and has taken a protective mantling stance on Beel’s shoulder.

You walk them to the summoning circle and the twins are just as sad as Beel. They want to stay. Baal is crying silently and can only manage to bring his horns out and bump heads. Hesperus makes you promise to cook lots of food ‘for when we come back’ and that he’ll even wash dishes if you promise.

You give them kisses and wipe Baal’s tears away, to which he gently teethes on you. Hesperus just hugs his brother from behind, the two disappearing in thick clouds of smoke.

The class goes on casually as people pick at food and gush about the twins. You stay behind with Beel to pack up the uneaten food. He’s very solemn as he’s taking all the photos off the board, handling them with care. 

“So, uh...why the photos?” you’ve tied up the last bag and have it sitting on the big catering trays Simeon lent you.

“I didn’t want to forget them like I did Lilith...not that I ever really forgot her. Sometimes it’s just...hard to remember her clearly. You know, to remember everything from before. It happens when you’re over five thousand years old.” he’s trying to smile sweetly for you but you can see the pain in it, “I just wanted to keep them with me. I didn’t get that option with her.”

Ooh boy have the floodgates opened for both of you! You hold this big six-something demon boy like he’s one of your babies and he’s never been more grateful. He feels your tears in his hair and you both have a cathartic cry. There’s no where comfortable to snuggle so you opt to heal quietly at the House of Lamentation with some of the leftover food.

It’s a quiet affair, hiding in Beel’s room. You catch him constantly touching your stomach but don’t say anything. His hand is warm and large over your stomach. You’re on the edge of a food coma when you hear him mutter, “Maybe one day.” as he gives it a little pat.                    

[blacktassel]

drunken feelings.

summary: sometimes you need your completely drunk brother to confess your feelings for you

prompt: “is somebody jealous?” (req)

pairing: diluc x gn!reader (feat. kaeya and venti)

word count: ~1.4k

genre/warnings: fluff, humour, sfw, diluc sucks at confessing

It was common knowledge that sometimes Kaeya got a little too drunk.

And when he got a little too drunk, he seemed to bring out an alternate side - or rather, sides - of himself; hidden personas only a bucket of magical alcohol (and the influence an equally drunk bard) could bring out.

You and your fellow barmaid kept a record of every type of drunk Kaeya you’d witnessed; and in the span of your few months working at the Angel’s Share, you’d encountered multiple already. 

So far, there was the moody-drunk Kaeya (who’d sulked in a corner for half the night, only to be dragged out by Diluc himself), flirty-drunk Kaeya (who would’ve been more suave if he hadn’t been tripping over his own feet every minute), tearful-drunk Kaeya (who would not stop crying at the bard’s songs) and poet-drunk Kaeya (...never again).

Tonight, it seemed like the Cavalry Captain had had too much to drink again.

“Behold…” Your co-worker says beside you, looking over the wine glasses she was wiping, “the wildcard Kaeya,” 

You nod, approving of the label. “His mood’s changed three times tonight. From his usual self to poet to moody to…” You glance at Kaeya in the corner, who now seemed to be dabbing at his eyes. “Teary?” 

What sort of new alcoholic drink did Diluc put on the menu?

“You don’t think that bard has got something to do with it? Venti, they called him?” Your co-worker glances at the green figure who was now singing his heart out to a sad ballad - he had half the tavern of drunken citizens and Cavalry Captains swaying and tearing up along with him. You suspect he’s had one too many drinks himself.

“Is it already this rowdy?” You hear Diluc sigh as he comes in through the back door, already shrugging off his coat and holding a hair tie between his teeth. There’s a freshly bandaged cut on his cheek, you notice. You wonder what he gets up to outside of working at the bar; delivering wine and doing business definitely didn’t result in fresh bandages every week. I’ll ask about it later, you decide, pushing the worries to the back, First we’ve got to make sure nobody ends up blacking out.

“Master Diluc, you’re here!” you greet, relieved to see another person who wasn’t drunk beyond his wits. “It’s.. going to be a night, alright. Your brother he’s already...”

Diluc sighed again, tightening his ponytail, which was tied up high tonight. He seems to have grasped the situation already. “I’m going to have a word with the new importers,” He slides you a box of tissues. “Give these to Kaeya… we don't want to have to wipe the tables of tears,”

You nod, carrying over the tissues through a crowd of now quietly weeping drunks and past Venti (who was currently taking a drink break, and looked a little too proud of his influence over the crowd) to the cavalry captain’s table in the corner.

Just as you set the box down on the table, Kaeya flashes you his signature smile. “Ah it’s you! thank you-” He sniffs. “-kind one!” He pulls out a handful of tissues, and blows his nose dramatically; drawing the stares of a now-quiet tavern. 

Kaeya is blissfully unaware of the stares and awkward silence, and to make things worse, he lets his head fall face flat onto the table in front of him. Venti chuckles and awkwardly strums his lyre, before starting up his next song.

“Uh.. are you alright, sir Kaeya?” You shake his shoulder gently. He doesn’t stir. 

What was in those drinks? 

You stand next to him, attempting to wake Kaeya up again as Venti’s next song progresses. 

Without warning, Kaeya whips his head up, slightly dazed. “A lo - hic! - love song!” Kaeya babbles out, tears pricking in his eyes again. “Hm. How fitting…” His eyes go to Diluc, who was glancing over, and then to you, before he smirks. “A fool who’s too shy to confess his feelings… and the one he’s in love with,”

You open your mouth to rebut - before you freeze. What was he rambling on about this time? ‘How fitting?’ What was that supposed to mean? 

Before you could ask him about the number of drinks he had that evening, he burst out again “Hm. If only you’d notice the way he looks at you… You see, Diluc talks in the looks he gives. Glowers. Hard stares. Rolling his eyes. I’ve been his brother for years and have managed to see a whole range of looks come out of him…” he chuckles to himself as he looks over at Diluc, “...and I’ve never seen that look he gives you, before… It's shy. And hesitant.” He finishes, before hiccuping loudly.

“Uh...” Heat rushes up to your cheeks. Diluc? Harbouring feelings... for you?

Kaeya gestures at you, signalling you to come closer. You make eye-contact with Diluc, who was coming over in your direction with a glass of wine, before awkwardly ducking down next to Kaeya. “And what’s more, did you know that Diluc-”

“Ahem,”

“Oh? We were just talking about you, Diluc,” Kaeya smiles slyly up at his brother, who was clearly sick of Kaeya’s antics. “You see, I’ve noticed your little crush on [name] here-”

“Kaeya. How many drinks have you had?” Diluc interrupted, unfazed.

Kaeya guffaws. “Oh? Trying to change the topic? How classic of you, Diluc,” he places his chin on his palm. “Or.. is somebody jealous? That I was able to confess your own feelings before you?” He sends you a wink. “Trust me, he would have been a saggy old man before he’d ever work up the courage to-”

Diluc swishes the wine glass in his hand, and suddenly that’s all Kaeya cares about. He reaches out, plucking it out of Diluc’s hands. “For me? You shouldn’t have,”

You look at Diluc in shock. What was he thinking? Kaeya was in no position to drink another glass. But before you can stop him, he downs the glass completely.

He spits it out instantly.

“My, you’re cruel.” Kaeya says, “Grape… Juice…”

Oh.

Diluc stands, arms crossed and looking down at Kaeya. You get the feeling that this definitely wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

While Kaeya sits stunned, and deeply offended, you hear someone making their way through the crowd, “Sir? Sir!” a young man bursts through the crowd. He must be a knight. He hauls Kaeya up by slinging an arm around him, who was now descending into wallowing in self-pity.

The knight sighs, looking at his own Cavalry Captain. “Master Diluc was right.. You’ve had too much to drink.” Kaeya scoffs, but now that he was on his feet, he was too disorientated to make a comeback. 

It didn’t stop him from trying to get back at his brother, though. As the Captain stumbled past the two of you, he pats your head, and completely dishevels Diluc’s hair, a stupid grin on his face. Diluc doesn’t blink.

After he’s left, Diluc pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Archons…” He turns towards you. “He didn’t… make you uncomfortable at all, did he?” he asks, worried.

“Oh, no! He didn’t. He just… changed his mood pretty quickly,” You let out a laugh. “He really must’ve have had too much to drink, I’ve never seen him like this before,”

He nods in agreement. The two of you stand there, awkward. You shift on your feet, heat pricking at your cheeks, remembering what Kaeya told you.

Diluc coughs, ears now bright red. “About what Kaeya said-” 

“Don’t worry about it, it was probably the alcohol speaking-” You rush out, trying to push down any hope you had inside of you. You can’t fathom the idea of Diluc having feelings for you - he’s never had feelings for anyone, as far as you knew.

“It’s true.” Diluc glances at you, before looking down at the floor. “I… have feelings for you,”

Oh. Nevermind.

“You don’t have to accept them; don’t feel obligated to say anything-”

“No, Diluc, it’s okay,” You look up at him, a small smile on your face. “I like you too,”

Tonight’s events must have given you a decent burst of adrenaline, because before you realise it, you go on your tiptoes, and give him a small kiss on the cheek. “We can talk later; we’re on the job still, remember?” And with that, you spin on your heels, and walk back to the bar, heart beating out of your chest.

Diluc’s left standing, stunned, and now bright red.

Behind him, Venti laughs and plucks at a few of his chords playfully. “Is Diluc... speechless?”

Venti was almost never allowed to play at the Angel’s Share after that.

end.

[anissanightyoung]

Of kisses and Roman traditions

[SUMMARY] Where Seungkwan enjoys kissing you and blames it on the Romans.

Idk what this is. Fluff? Flirty!Seungkwan definitely. Oh and noona!reader😁

3,087 words

HAPPY 6 YEARS TO MY BOYS💖💎

masterlist

You and Seungkwan have already kissed on three occasions. You didn't want to put too much thought into it, and you never mentioned it anyway. But sometimes it's hard to stop thinking about what those kisses mean.

The first kiss was at Seungkwan's house. All your friends were already asleep, tired of playing all his board games, and drunk innumerable bottles of liquor. You had finished cleaning up when Seungkwan came towards you. "Yah, why did you clean? This is my apartment.” You laughed at his half-asleep state, you could see just how tired he was trying to beat Soonyoung with one drunk. He did his best, but Soonyoung kept giving him +2s and +4s of tequila or vodka and mixing alcohol in Seungkwan's system ended badly. He threw up twice overnight.

"Look at you, hangover's gonna bite your ass in the morning. And you know I can't sleep when this place is trashed." You can hear him laughing lazily, trying to stay awake. "Come on, let's get you to bed." Seungkwan grins, "Starving. Creamy cheese bagels. Feed me?" You laughed at his antiques. You met him a year ago, and you know drunk Seungkwan needs to eat before he goes to bed. "This is a way of waking up hangover-free, noona. You should try it." But you know that Seungkwan will still have a headache the following day, with an Americano as a telling sign.

"You're too cute for your own good, do you know that?" You joked to him, shaking your head. You were warming up the bagel when he took your hand. "Happy anniversary, noona."

"What?"

"Do you think I wouldn't remember? It's the anniversary of the first time we met.”

"What a sappy, sappy man you are." You laugh while finishing his sandwich. You turned around to face him and said "ah" so he could take a bite out of the bagel. When he did, it was as if he had tasted food for the first time. When he had already swallowed his first bite, he suddenly threw his arms into your waist, swallowing you in a cuddle. That surprised you because he's not usually that sweet, and now he's very touchy.

"What are you doing?" You asked him when he set his bagel down on the counter and tugged the ends of your shirt pulling you closer to him. This is the only time you have noticed how he is a few inches taller than you, and that he has long eyelashes a bit like those of a baby. You were that close to notice that. He slowly bent over your face, staring directly at your lips, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn't, he closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you softly.

When he retired, he laid his head upon the counter and slept his intoxication away. You figured he’s too wasted to have done so. When you asked about the kiss the next day, he brushed it off, saying,  “Sorry, got wasted trying to beat that tiger hyung.”  

“Just don’t do it again okay? Friends don’t do that.”

“Yepp,” popping the last letter, “I’ll take you to your favorite burger place to make it up to you.” He drags you to his car while holding your hand. When he was driving, he held your hand still. “Hey, it's not okay to kiss, but it's okay to hold hands?” There was complete silence.

“Friends can hold hands, sure. When did friends start kissing on the lips?

“Friends with benefits do.”

“Ya are you asking me to? Cause you know I’m not into that kind of shit!”

Seungkwan laughed at your outburst. “Joking noona, sheesh. You’re getting old.”

“Shut it, I’m barely a year older than you.”

Throughout the ride, he didn't let go of your hand. However, you didn't seem to mind the extra warmth.

The second kiss took place around a campfire.

Soonyoung told the three of you that he wanted to go for a drive, and you were shocked when he suddenly parked by a beach. You never asked how Soonyoung got all of your clothes and other belongings, but he seemed to need the view of a peaceful ocean at night, so you all decided. You were already there, and the semester had just ended.

While you and Seungkwan were eating dinner you bought near the store, Seokmin began jamming to a guitar and singing his heart out. Soonyoung was on the lookout for the beach's caretaker to inquire about some wood for a campfire.

“I swear, I know Soonyoung oppa is the most spontaneous of us all, but I never expected him to be this bad. Is it really because of the finals?” 

“He may look carefree, but hyung goes through a lot,” Seokmin chuckled. You understand; everybody has their own way of dealing with their baggage, and Soonyoung's are to be daring and laugh his problems away.

“Minnie, can you play the song you submitted for your music class as a group project?” Campfire?” You believe it is appropriate for the atmosphere of the evening. While Seokmin was singing, you glanced over at Soonyoung to see how he was doing. His smile is beaming, and his eyes are glassy as he takes in the stunning scenery in front of him. You were relieved to see that his plan worked.

You looked at Seungkwan, realizing that this was his first time hearing the track. “Kwannie, pay attention to the next line. It's comforting.” You sang with Seokmin when the part came up. It reminds you of how Seungkwan made getting out of bed easier every day. Your anxiety held you awake at night or made you fearful of what might happen the next day. But Seungkwan, he unintentionally shone on you at a difficult period. Slowly but steadily, you began to anticipate waking up knowing that he would face the day with you.

Soonyoung accompanied Seokmin to the market to buy some food after he finished jamming due to his hunger. It was time for you to jam. Of course, you'd choose Taylor Swift's The Way I Loved You, in honor of her Fearless cover. You've always admired Taylor Swift's music, especially the older songs because you identify with the words she wrote. You were grateful for how her music got you through your childish heartbreaks.

You were so engrossed in Seungkwan's angelic voice that you didn't know he was already squatting in front of you. Both of you were grinning at each other when the last chord was struck, and you kissed him as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. The kiss felt right; it felt like it was what completed the song you were singing; it felt like the happy ending the song promised. To keep your balance, you clutched his arm. When you jerked away from him when you awoke from your daydream, he immediately drew you back in and kissed you again, squeezing your hand three times.

The four of you had agreed to spend Christmas Day at Seokmin's. Your mother didn't let you hear the end of it when you told them you couldn't come home because your family has always been conventional. Your mother guilt-tripping you to come home, saying, "We're family, we're supposed to spend time together." “Ah, well, families are supposed to support one another, not nag each other to death when one fails to meet one's expectations.” After that, you hang up, assuming that if you don't agree, your mother will say something else that you don't want or need to hear.

Seungkwan was supposed to pick you up, so while you were waiting for him, you double-checked everything you'd packed to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything. Seungkwan's introduction of Soonyoung and Seokmin is one of the things for which you are grateful. You've outgrown your crappy friends from high school, so the trio is a breath of fresh air for you.

You place your bags in the trunk as soon as you see his car, like a little kid heading to Disney World. “Thanks for picking me up, Kwannie,” she said, beaming. You excitedly slid down to the passenger seat. He immediately hugged you once you were sitting, saying, "Ah noona, you're in a good mood?" You can see his smile doesn't reach his eyes when you've broken free from the embrace. He's giving you a fake one.

“This is my first trip away from my home. I already know it'll be a lot of fun.”

“Really? At Seokmin Hyung's house, you'll feel right at home. His mother prepares the most delicious Christmas dinner. My mother's cooking pales in comparison.” Seungkwan once gave you a dish made by her mother, and one bite was enough to make you feel like you'd died and gone peacefully to heaven. The fact that Seokmin's mother cooks better piqued your curiosity. “Ah really? Then I'd really have to give it a taste.” He smiled again, the false smile, and you're starting to get bothered by it.

“What are you doing, Kwannie?” You're giving me this strange grin.”

“What do you mean strange?”

“Fake smile. It's the first time you've feigned a smile at me. What’s up?”

“You can see right through me, can't you?”

“Yes, I do. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Nope. But I'd like to take your hand.”

Seungkwan is holding your hand and exhaling contentedly. He kept it until you arrived at Seokmin's house.

Seokmin's house is warm and inviting. They live in a house on a corner with a vibrant garden surrounding it. The living room has an L-shaped couch that can comfortably seat all four of you, with additional seating available. Seokmin and his sister have a wall full of family photos and accomplishments. You can tell Seokmin's parents are a laid-back, loving family, as shown by his kindness and good humor. You don't know if it was the long ride, but you fell asleep as soon as you sat on their couch after the house tour.

When you first awoke, you chose to visit their garden, which you recall has a swing set. Seungkwan is seated by himself.

You teased, "Where are your twins?"

“They went grocery shopping with Mrs. Lee.”

“What kept you from going?”

“Too exhausted from driving.”

“Then you should've just slept with me.”

Seungkwan swung his head in your direction right away. “I-uh, what?”

Then it dawned on you what you'd said. This is so humiliating. “Sleep!” you exclaimed, “Sleeping, with eyes closed and resting-“

“I never expected you to finally ask me-”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHEN YOU SAY "FINALLY" YOU LITTLE SHIT?”

He laughed out loud at your reaction while you chased him around the backyard. He quit running around after you told him that you wouldn't smack him in the head.

“I hate you.”

That made Seungkwan stop laughing.

“Do you regret meeting me?”

You were surprised at his sudden change of tone, no longer joking. “Is this what it’s all about?”

“Well. Yeah.”

“I'm not sure what got you to think like that. You said, “But you know our first meeting was a flop.” When people meet for the first time, they usually ask for each other's names, go through some more tedious formalities, and then seal the deal with a handshake. You had an early class with him, and you didn't mind sharing a seat with him almost every time because you thought he was one of the quiet ones. The year was difficult for you because things didn't go your way, you had a lot of misfortunes, and you had a lot of work piling up that was affecting your mental health.

As you sat down in your chair one fateful morning, you put your cup of coffee on your side of the table. This is where Seungkwan got his drink mixed up with yours because you both have the same coffee taste.

“- flop is an exaggeration for that noona-”

“-you drank my coffee in our 8 a.m. class thinking it was yours, I'll never forgive you.” Reliving that moment made you roll your eyes. “But you know what? You wouldn't have replaced it if you hadn't, and I wouldn't have had the best year of my life.” It may seem to be an exaggeration, but it is true. You were grateful for Seungkwan's carefree and playful personality, which helped you get through your lowest point. He had no idea what you were going through, but you were relieved that someone was taking care of you.

He can be seen chewing his mouth, attempting to conceal his smile. “Ah dumb main character in a drama,” air quotes the phrase, ‘I wish I hadn't met you.' “I instantly thought of you.”

“Huh, that's strange.”

“What is?”

“That. As I previously said, this has been the best year I've had in, what, three years? And it's all thanks to you. I might be harsh with you all of the time, cursing at you whenever I get the chance, but that's just how I am. I'm glad I got you as one of my most reliable friends, my rock, and my go-to person. Even Seokmin and Soonyoung oppa were introduced to me by you. Seungkwan, I'd rather live in a world with you in it. Don’t think otherwise.”

Seungkwan stared at you and felt a combination of emotions. He kissed you when he understood what he felt.  At first, you thought it’ll be quick like the last time, a peck. But he deepened the kiss, and when his tongue touched yours, you hear him groan. He tugged you closer, afraid you’ll get away. He reassuringly held your hands, squeezing them three times just like the second time. I can get used to this. You thought. You focused on his soft lips, how you’ve always felt content while kissing him.

He pulled away, his chest heaving for breath. “Holy shit,” Seungkwan said. You nodded in agreement, apparently unable to concentrate because of your heart beating so loudly.

“I-, uh, I--”

“I thought we’ve talked this through?-”

He sighed deeply before adding, “I-I got cold. Sorry, noona.”

“You dumb shit, if you were cold, I would have made you hot chocolate. I’m nice sometimes you know.”

“I don't mind,” he smirked, “you're hotter anyway.”

“What the heck is wrong with you? I swear to god, you've been flirting with me since that drunk uno shit.”

“It's a Roman thing to kiss under the mistletoe,” he said, pointing to the mistletoe he was carrying.

You both laughed it off, thinking about how ridiculous it sounded. “Roman tradition my ass.”

You and Seungkwan are both in the hospital on New Year's Eve.

“Ah, what a dumb plan you had there,” you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

“Well, I've always wanted to go out of my comfort zone...”

You give him a light smack on the head. “Shut up. Now I'm trapped in a hospital over New Year's because of your dumb plan.”

It's never a good idea to combine Seungkwan with hiking. Sure, he's fit, but when was the last time he went hiking?

“Then have Seokmin hyung or Soonyoung hyung accompany me.”

“They're still at Seokmin's.” You and Seungkwan both arrived at your dorms earlier than anticipated. After all, you didn't want to overstay your welcome; it was your first time. You were worried that Seokmin's mother would think you were too at ease in their home.

“Well, if you want to go home, you can.”

“Who will look after you if I go home?”

For a moment, Seungkwan didn't dare add a sarcastic comment on that question. So, instead, “Come on y/n, don't be so mad...”

“Where are your manners, I'm your noona?”

“three kisses in and I still can't call you by your name?”

You blushed when you remembered all of the times Boo SeungKwan kissed you and how sweet his soft lips were.

“Noona is blushing, wah.”

“I hope your ankle doesn’t heal you little shit.”

Raising his eyebrows at you. "You don't mean that. You love me."

"Of course I do. I love all three of you."

He reached for your hand. "I bet you love me more." There it was again, Seungkwan surprising you with his sudden seriousness. He was staring straight into your eyes, waiting for your response. Luckily, a nurse came in to check his vitals.

 A few minutes after the nurse came out, both of you were ignoring each other due to that sudden tension. To ease the situation, both of you just watched television until you fell asleep.

"Y/n wake up." Nudging you by your shoulders. "We're nearing the countdown. Cmon," and urged you to stand by the window, waiting for the fireworks.

Seungkwan then leaned in to put an earphone in, with a song already playing in the background. You realized it was a song written by Soonyoung's classmate, Woozi, for a songwriting class. You were bopping your head to the music when the ten-second countdown started. 

You and Seungkwan alternately sang along.

10

9

"I promise myself, while drinking a glass of water in the morning, to tell you"

새벽에 물을 마시면서 혼자 다짐해 나는 너에게

8

7

"Beautiful words like the lines in a movie"

영화처럼 달콤하고 예쁜 그 말

6

5

"The words I've prepared overnight for days"

몇 날 며칠 밤새 연습했던 그 말

4

3

"I want to say them to you tomorrow with clenched fists"

내일은 꼭 두 주먹을 꽉 쥐고 말해주고 싶어

2

1

Seungkwan turned to face you just in time for the next line.

"You are pretty." 

너 예쁘다

As soon as the clock struck twelve and the fireworks went off, Seungkwan kissed you. What astonished you was how you knew he was about to kiss you and how you returned the kiss with fervor as he deepened it. You can't help but compare this man to fireworks; how dark it was before him, and how awestruck you were when he came into your life.

Seungkwan was the first to back away, touching his forehead to yours and giggling like a joyful little kid. “Did you know that it’s a Roman tradition to kiss on the first minute of the new year?”

“Blaming the Romans again, I see?” playfully raising your eyebrows at him.

He laughed at that, giving you no excuse. "I love you, Y/n."

You grinned as you silently thank the Romans for their weird traditions.

[jessbakescakes]

J/D: things you said with too many miles between us

15) Things you said with too many miles between us from this post!

A present-day Josh/Donna fic for you!

July 2021

Josh stirs when his phone vibrates, and he orients himself to his surroundings. He’d fallen asleep on the couch at some point during the post-debate coverage after ensuring that the girls went to bed, and he was waiting on Donna’s phone call to debrief. Josh attempts to reach into his pack pocket to retrieve the vibrating phone. He manages to do so without stirring the dog, whose head is resting on Josh’s chest as she sleeps, letting out barely audible barks and huffs as an ndication that she’s dreaming.

“Hi,” Josh answers, his free hand moving to gently stroke the fur on top of Sadie’s head.

“Hi,” Donna parrots back.

The sound of her voice still makes him feel butterflies, even after twenty-three years of knowing her and almost fourteen years of marriage. He smiles to himself at the thought, taking another moment to realize exactly how lucky he is. “It’s quiet,” Josh notes. “Thought you’d all be celebrating.”

“We are. I just wanted to call you first so you could get to bed.”

“All the post-debate coverage is calling it a standout performance from Senator Sam Seaborn,” Josh notes. “I’m not surprised, but they sounded a little stunned, although I’m not sure why.”

Donna lets out a quiet laugh, and he has a clear vision in his mind of her leaning against a wall, smiling and looking down at the floor as she grins. “Sam did an incredible job. He was probably the most prepared out of all of them when it came to healthcare and social security. Foreign policy needed a little bit of work, but…”

“But he ran away with it,” Josh finishes. “Donna, you don’t have to be modest. I know what a big part you played in this.”

“Sam worked hard,” Donna insists.

“Of course he did,” Josh agrees, “but you worked just as hard, if not harder.”

“You’re right. I did. I think this is a turning point. It's still early, and we're narrowing down the Democratic playing field but... you know.”

Josh does know. He doesn't say anything further, so as not to tempt fate, as Toby would put it, but he absolutely understands what Donna's hinting at. Josh stretches and yawns, trying not to let on that he’s as tired as he is. “I let the girls stay up for the debate, but they’ve been in bed for the last hour or so.”

“I was going to ask you how they were, considering the only updates I’ve received in the last twenty-four hours were dog photos. I was beginning to wonder if you remembered we had daughters,” Donna teases.

“Well, our eldest is going through a Taylor Swift phase,” Josh starts.

“She knew the words to what was likely Taylor Swift’s entire discography before kindergarten, and you’re just now realizing this?”

“Songwriting,” Josh clarifies.

Donna lets out a half-laugh, half-groan. “Is it the kid from marching band again? Or… still? I don’t know which is the most accurate way to finish that sentence.”

“I think it would be 'again', but nope. Apparently, this is just your run-of-the-mill preteen self-expression stuff.” Josh shifts slightly as Sadie lets out a low growl in her sleep, kicking her front and back paws as though she’s dreaming of chasing something. “I think I heard the same chord progression on the guitar for about six hours straight today.”

“Excellent, looking forward to it,” Donna says.

“Nora spent her morning drafting a plan to convince me to get another dog,” Josh starts.

“Absolutely not,” Donna interjects before Josh can finish the sentence.

“I told her no!” Josh laughs in disbelief. “I do have some willpower, you know. Then she decided she wanted to start a dog walking business, because if she earned the money for the dog maybe it would sway me.”

“I’ve only been gone twenty-four hours, please tell me Leah hasn’t asked for a piercing or declared a college major,” Donna jokes.

Josh scratches Sadie behind the ear. “She asked me to take her to that little used bookstore so she could spend her birthday money.”

“How’d she fare?”

“She currently has two stacks of books in the corner of her room as she debates whether she wants to spend the rest of her money on another shelf or trade in some other books to make room,” Josh explains. “She also considered using the money for a custom Mets jersey with her name on it, but decided against it.”

“Too expensive?”

“No special characters,” Josh says. “She didn’t like the way Moss-Lyman looked without the hyphen.”

“I’d ask how Sadie is, but I think I know exactly how her day went thanks to your efforts,” Donna says.

“I’m but a humble servant of man’s best friend,” Josh jokes. He’s noticed something in Donna’s tone as the conversation has unfolded, the hesitant ‘we need to talk’ undercurrent of everything she says, so he decides to be the first to dive in. “What’s on your mind, Donna?”

Donna sighs. “So I was approached by Bryce Palmer from the DNC today. Apparently, there’s something brewing with Congressman Hanover and some allegations of impropriety.”

“Hanover? Like the Wisconsin fifth, Hanover?”

“The very same,” Donna confirms. “Problem is, they don’t have a viable Democrat for a special election should he resign. So they came to me to take my temperature on the whole thing.”

Josh can’t help but let the wheels in his brain start turning. The idea of Donna flipping a typically Republican district in Wisconsin sounds incredible. If anyone’s capable of it, it’s Donna. But he’s learned over the years to let Donna process before giving an opinion, so instead of rattling off all the possibilities, he simply listens.

“I told them I’m running Sam’s campaign right now,” Donna explains. “But they really want me to consider a run in the fifth next go-around. Or… you know, should there be a special election sometime between the general and the midterms.”

“You thinking about it?” Josh asks.

He hears Donna take a deep breath, then let out a long exhale. “A little? I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Don’t start your ‘Donna, I’ve been setting this up for you for years’ speech,” she warns.

“Wasn’t gonna. Just listening.”

“I know you’d be at your laptop searching for properties in the Wisconsin fifth right now if Sadie weren’t asleep on you,” Donna says. “I can tell if you put me on speakerphone, you know.”

Josh sheepishly taps the speakerphone button, putting a temporary pause on his search that he had already started, just as Donna had predicted. “You’re not on speakerphone.”

There’s a pause for a moment, and Josh can sense her hesitation. “Flipping a district is a lot of work.”

“It is,” Josh agrees.

“I also don’t know if I’m ready to jump right into another campaign after this,” Donna continues. “It’s been a lot of time away from all of you. If I stay away too much longer, Caroline’s going to become a YouTube sensation whose material is almost entirely inspired by the absence of her mother. Nora’s going to be running an animal shelter out of the garage, and Leah will have either a Beauty and the Beast sized library or a podcast with her Grandpa Jed, it’s a toss-up.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Josh asks, holding back laughter.

“I’ve been away a lot,” Donna insists. “Things change while I'm away. I miss all of you.”

Josh smiles. “We miss you, too.” He has the instinct to tell her not to dismiss the idea out of hand, to give it some thought before she gives her answer. But despite her hesitation, Josh knows there’s a small part of Donna that’s considering it, and that’s enough for him. “Get back to the party. We’ll talk about it when you get home.”

They say their goodbyes and I love yous after confirming Donna’s flight details. Josh wakes the dog and heads up the stairs toward the bedroom, already plotting out the strategy for winning in the Wisconsin fifth.

Hypothetically, of course.

[kvj-novels]

Senku x fem named!reader

Rating: this chapter is E for everyone though there is some mild language

Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN THE CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS.

Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.

Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.

Chapter Five

The man in the purple cloak type shirt offered his hand when I reached the bottom of the ladder. “My name is Gen.” he said. “Imogen.” I took his hand. “Do you know why I should meet Senku at the village?” I asked. Gen put an arm around me, and I placed my arm over his shoulders. I limped forward with his steady stride next to me. “When quarrels break out he settles it with full on matches. No one dies, but they are allowed to fight each other to settle the matter. Usually he’s found that sometimes people just need to have a real match to get things off their chest and then they’re good.” He explained. “Oh, that’s an interesting way to go about it.” I said, following him down the path and into the village. We came to the bridge and he stopped. “This bridge is narrow, it would be better if I carried you or you walked in front.” “I can walk.” I smiled, feeling a bit awkward around this stranger who interrupted...a moment. “Thank you for the help.” I quickly went across the bridge and followed Gen to the crowd of people. Benches were occupied and the ground was covered with people. They all surrounded an empty area where only two people stood. Senku saw me approaching and waved me over. Taiju was next to him. I made my way through the crowd as a tall, blond and angry looking man stated the rules and signaled for them to started. Taiju only just noticed me when I came up to them. He stood straight up, eyes wide. “Imogen.” He said surprised. I smiled. I saw him in my memory too and his face was full of familiarity. “Hi Taiju.” “You remember me?” “I have a memory. That’s it.” He grinned. “That’s good enough for me.” He said and without hesitation he wrapped me up in a big bear hug. I laughed and hugged him back. “Alright you big oaf,” Senku said. “Let the woman sit.” “Oh, right, you hurt yourself.” He said as he let go. “Here, sit between Senku and me.” He led me to the bench and I down next Senku. He winked at me. “Did Gen explain this?” He asked. “Yes. You make your subjects fight for your amusement.” I teased. He laughed. The crowd bellowed and we all faced the ring. One of them was on the ground, the other on top. The one on the ground fought until he was back on his feet again. Everyone cheered. Senku casually draped his arm over my shoulders as he picked up a flask and threw back some beer. “May I have some?” I asked. “Sure.” He handed me his mug. I took it and gave it a sniff which made him laugh. “It’s a lot stronger than what you’re used to.” He said. I threw back a swig and gulped it down. He was impressed with me for the 3.5 seconds in which I didn’t notice the kick. Then he belly laughed when I doubled over and coughed. Taiju couldn’t help but laugh too. A memory came flashing through my mind as I coughed. It was a moment similar to this. One of the only occasions where the three of us spent time together that summer. I smiled and look up at Taiju. He smiled back at me. “I have two memories now.” I said. He offered a fist and I looked at it perplexed for a moment before bumping my fist to his. “You’ll get more.” He said. The mood of the night for the crowd changed in a moment. Everyone gasped and both Taiju and Senku snapped their attention to the men fighting. Without even uttering a word, they both stood and ran to break up the fight. Taiju held one down while Senku pushed the other far away. Senku’s voice bellowed in the night as he spoke to the two men. “Alright, now since we can’t fight nicely to settle this then you’ll tell everyone right here and now why you’re fighting.” Both men were silent. “Speak!” Senku shouted. The one standing by him cleared his throat. “I don’t want to live here.” He said. “No one is being forced to stay.” Senku replied. “I made a comment that I and my friend would likely leave tomorrow. He” he pointed to theman held down by Taiju, “walked by and started a fight over it.” Senku turned to the man that Taiju was holding down. “Stand up.” He said. Taiju got off him and let him stand. “This village is simply a home. No one is forced to live here if they don’t want to. We have several outlying families who wanted to be on their own - they have every right and privilege as everyone here. But they have their privacy too.” “He’s not telling you the full truth.” The man said. Senku turned to the first, awaiting an explanation. “I want to leave Japan. I’m not from here.” He said. “Japan was never my home.” “Where do you wish to go?” Senku asked. “I’m from Hawaii.” “Are your friends from there as well?” “No...we haven’t yet found those I was traveling with.” Senku put his hands on the man’s shoulder. “Again I say, you are not forced to live here. If you wish to cross the ocean then we’ll all work together to build you a boat–“ “We can’t do that!” The other man shouted. “We can’t waste our resources to build a boat for a man who doesn’t know how to sail. He’ll be dead in a week.” Senku was silent but his face turned dark. “Anyone who wishes to take some time and help this man travel home, then please, come forward and volunteer your service. If you wish to make him food, clothes, and shelter then come forward.” Several people stepped forward in support of the man, including, I think, his friends that wished to go with him. “It will take a while, but you’ll have all the supplies you need. Figure out how to provide your services and continue your work for the village. However you do that is up to you.” Senku turned back to the man. “When you are ready to leave, come to me. I’ll have something for you.” He extended his arm in what looked like would be a handshake but instead the two men gripped each other’s elbow. “Thank you, Senku.” The man said. Senku turned to everyone else. “Let’s continue our night in peace.” He said. “I don’t want to hear this matter brought up again.” He looked at the man still standing in the ring. The man offered a polite bow and turned to go. Senku came and sat back down with a sigh. “Sorry about that. Usually they fight and make up. Sometimes I have to step in but it’s very rare.” “That’s okay. It looks like it took a lot out of you.” “It’s exhausting being a chief.” He said with a chuckle. “You do it well.” I smiled. A shadow stepped in front of me. “Imogen.” Taiju was standing there. I looked up at him. “I don’t want to interrupt any plans you may have, but if I may, can we talk soon?” His eyes started to water. “Taiju...what’s wrong?” “He probably misses you, the big cry baby.” Senku teased. My heart broke a bit because I couldn’t fully remember the bond we had. Taiju was crying softly. What a gentle soul in such a strong body. I stood and pulled his head down into a hug. “Taiju...I can’t remember what you were to me...but yes, of course we can talk soon. I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep tonight and meeting some time tomorrow?” He let out a sob into my shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.” He said, holding himself back from hugging me. “Alright you big cry baby.” Senku said, coming up to us and putting a hand on his shoulder. He straightened and dried his face. “Go home and get some sleep with your girl.” Senku said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” Senku took my hand and quickly made his escape through the village, hiding in the shadows when people came near. “You tired?” He asked once on the bridge. I shook my head. “It’s been a long couple days since I woke up and I couldn’t sleep before because it felt too similar to the petrification.” “Here,” he got in front of me and squatted down. I smiled and climbed onto his back. He carried me to the lookout and up the ladder to his room. I crawled off him and over to his bed. I heard him chuckle and he followed after me. His arms snaked around me and pulled me into chest. “Imogen?” His voice went deep, the sleep setting into his vocal chords. “Hmm?” “I’m glad you’re here...I didn’t realize, with all the crazy things that have kept me busy, how much I missed your companionship.” He pressed a kiss to my head. I smiled. “Go to sleep, Senku.”

He hummed and closed his eyes. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

********

Tag list: @viskafrer @bee-cakes @potatochic2003 @gxldenhunny @cheesey-fox @guijh103 Please DM me if you would like to be added to the tag list!

[jatphantomsimagines]

Before Us (2) | Luke Patterson

Synopsis: In 1995, Sunset Curve was set to play The Orpheum. 25 years later they wake up in a whole new world and Luke finds somebody he once used to know.

Authors Note: I apologize ahead of time because this chapter is mainly filler, just gotta move the story along (and also show y’all Julie + Riley’s friendship)

PREVIOUS | NEXT

__/—–\__

All night long all Riley could think about was how quiet Julie had been at school after her crying session in the hallway. She was worried, so she decided upon waking up that she would head over to Julie’s house and walk with her to school. 

She had made it quickly, her thoughts clouded with the music that flooded through her headphones. They were old recordings she had found of her mom’s music, having moved them to her computer and changing them to a playable format. It was comfortable for her to be able to hear her mom, being able to sing along with her. Every so often there would be a duet, a boy's voice chiming in and singing along. 

Riley wasn’t sure who it was, not knowing much about her mom’s past besides what her dad had told her. This mystery man sang in Riley’s ears, her nerves calming and easing her anxieties about walking into Julie’s house unannounced. 

Walking up to the house, she could hear something coming from the backyard and she removed one of her headphones. Riley made her way down the stairs to Julie’s garage, heading over to the doors she could hear the familiar sound of piano chords being played and Julie’s voice ringing out through the open air. She echoed, energy seeming to buzz around Riley causing the hair on her arms to stand up. 

Tears came into her eyes and before she could stop herself she was running over and pushing the door open and looking Julie dead on. The girl continued singing, a smile lighting up her face and their gazes meeting. Julie finished singing and called the girl over, Riley joining the girl on the piano bench. The feeling was familiar, having been in this position so many times throughout their childhood. 

As Julie was about to speak up, both their attentions were brought over to the door where Flynn was storming in. 

“Carlos told me you’d be out here.” The two stared her down, waiting for her to continue. “The three of us need to talk.” 

“Are you okay?” Julie asked, Riley motioning for the girl to come closer to the piano, genuine worry flitting across her face. 

“No, I’m not okay Julie. You just got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was going to say. Might’ve drank seven sodas, but I need to get this out.” 

Riley couldn’t help but giggle, piping up quietly. “I thought that was how you spent most nights.” 

Flynn turned to look at the girl, rolling her eyes the same way Julie did when she was teased. Riley knew that the girls loved her antics, and even if they got annoyed sometimes they wouldn’t hesitate to be the first people to fight for her. 

“Look Julie, you can’t give up music. And Riley agrees.” Riley shook her head, looking very serious as Flynn motioned to her. “Your music is like a gift so that would be a tragedy. So, you’re basically cancelling Christmas, and I love Christmas.”

“May I add, I also love Christmas.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that comment, Flynn continuing on her rant without even batting an eyelash.

“When we were six we all promised to be in a band together. The Triple Threat.”

“I never agreed to that name.” Julie piped up. 

“Yeah well Riley did and that’s two versus one, anyways! Jules, if you leave the music program the three of us will be apart forever. That’s just what happens.” She joined the other two on the bench and Riley reached around Julie so she could rub Flynn’s back lightly. She knew that the other girl was over exaggerating but her worries were still valid and Riley wanted to ease them. 

“Sure we’ll see each other in the hall sometime, but we’ll have different lives, make new friends.”

“That’s not true. Can I please talk now?” Julie pleaded with the other girl and Flynn finally relented. “I just played the piano and sang again.”

A look of shook covered Flynn’s face and she laughed, looking between the two girls in disbelief. Riley nodded, still not quite believing it herself that her best friend was playing music again. 

“What? Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Well she would've had you not barged in and let your seven soda’s kick in.” Riley pointed out. 

“I’m so happy for you! And us!” She quickly grabbed Riley’s hand and squealed. “Look at you, looking all, I don’t know, alive again!”

“What made you play again?” Riley asked, bumping her shoulder gently about Julie’s. She was curious, wondering if Julie had managed to work through her grief during the night. 

“I found this song my mom wrote me.” She paused showing the two girls the song on the piano. Riley read it over and felt her heart clench. The song was all about moving on and moving forward, exactly what Julie needed right now. She hugged the girl tightly, still holding Flynn’s hand and giving it a squeeze. 

“I was so afraid to play it. Anything involving music reminds me of her. And then I woke up this morning, realizing that’s why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.” Flynn awed slightly and moved closer, wrapping herself around Julie’s other side and joining the group hug. Flynn gasped, pulling away quickly and speaking. 

“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison you can play so you can stay in school and our lives won’t be the awful pictures I just painted for you.” Riley laughed, standing up and dragging both girls with her. They made their way out of the garage together, Julie stopping to close the door behind herself. 

“Oh hey.” Julie speaking caused both Flynn and Riley to turn around and face the girl. Riley raised an eyebrow as Julie stared at the empty space next to her and Flynn coughed. She turned to look at the girls, realizing they were still there. “Let’s hustle.” 

And with that Julie was ushering the two girls off and on their way to school. The three of them huddled together laughing and talking about how they were going to convince Mrs. Harrison to let Julie stay in the music program. 

The easiest decision the three of them could come up with was to let Julie perform in front of her, hoping that Julie’s “killer voice and pure talent” would blow her away, Flynn’s words. Riley agreed, piping in that once Mrs. Harrison heard Julie again she would let her back into the program. 

Time seemed to pass by quickly as the three of them talked and talked, laughing away at each other’s stupid okes and making silly quips here and there. The energy around the three of them was comfortable, a relaxing presence that brought all of them some peace. 

“Do you think she’ll really let me back in?” Julie asked as the three girls walked up and into the school. 

“She has too, you’re too good to let go.” Riley answered. 

`

“Believe me, I think it’s wonderful that you sang again. I prayed for this moment for almost a year. But it’s too late.” Mrs. Harrison gave the girls an apologetic look and Riley felt her shoulders slump. There was no way it could end like this. She hadn’t even given Julie an actual chance to prove herself. 

“But what if you just hear her play, you know she’s amazing.” Riley pleaded. Mrs. Harrison shook her head. 

“It wouldn’t matter. A new student starts tomorrow. There’s only--” 

“So many spots.” Julie finished, knowing the line by now. “And if I don’t participate, I’m out. I know.” 

“I did everything I could to keep you here this year, but Principal Lessa was very clear that yesterday was your last chance. You’ll have to reapply next semester.” The bell rang as Mrs. Harrison finished explaining the situation to the girls and Riley couldn’t help but feel as if they had lost one of the most important battles of their lives. 

They had worked so hard, she had seen the progress Julie had made, had even heard her sing alone that morning. The sound of Julie finally letting go of all the pent up emotions she had been harboring and pouring them out into the best version of themselves. 

“I’m truly sorry.” She finished. Students began to file in for the next class and Riley led the girls out of the room, Flynn slinging her arm around Julie’s shoulders, trying to offer some comfort from the situation. 

The girls looked between each other and Riley sighed, the familiar action of her hands sliding into her pockets offering her some minor comfort. The jacket she wore belonged to her mother, something she had seen her wearing many times in photos of her own youth, and while Julie played music to stay connected to her mother, Riley went through her things and wore her clothes. 

“This sucks.” She kicked her toe into the ground, rubbing her shoe until a small sprout of pain surfaced. A frown stayed placed on her lips, Julie looking up at her and taking her hand in her own. 

“It’s going to be okay, I’ll get in next semester.”

“But you’re playing music now! You should be allowed to have the tools and training that we do, who cares if you needed some time.” Riley groaned and gripped her hair in hands. Julie ran over quickly, recognizing the action as a stress habit the other had developed after being in the car accident that killed her mother.  

“Riley, breathe.” Julie led the breaths, placing a hand on Riley’s diaphragm, just as her mother had done when the girl would have panic attacks at their home. After a few moments of breathing, Riley calmed down and the urge to pull at herself went away. 

“Thank you, mi cielo.”

-

Before Us Tags:

@vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @dpaccione​ @ashleyleblancx​

[charlotte-balfours-garden]

more oc lore! a follow-up to whatever this is

(@artimator your tag about wanting more eli stories was enough to get me writing, so thank you! <3)

***

He wakes in a dark room that smells faintly of alcohol.

The muted sounds of drunk voices and lively music seep through the thin floorboards and - whenever a particularly gaudy chord is played - make the bed he’s lying in vibrate ever so slightly. He can painfully feel every heartbeat in his head, accompanied by a rhythmic throbbing somewhere in his stomach area, and is somehow aware of every damn bone in his body.

Stomach’s not a good body part to catch a bullet with. But at least his heart is still beating, that’s for sure.

He hazily remembers revenue agents, far too many, and a long night of riding. Riding where? The pillow is soft and he’s quite certain there are four walls around him, and a roof over his head.

Where?

Soon he falls into a troubled sleep again, plagued by dreams of wolves and dynamite, and when he wakes a second time, the throbbing has spread to his chest. Last time he felt like this (close to this, at least) was the morning after the grand opening of the moonshine bar, some months ago. Just like back then, the sound of early bird songs is now shrilling in his ears.

He opens his eyes.

The room is less dark now, and also less blurry than before. Groaning, he turns his head to determine his exact location. A chair in the corner, a wardrobe, flimsy curtains letting in the first light of a new day, a familiar coat on the coat rack by the door. Maggie’s coat. The moonshine shack. Explains the ungodly noises from the basement.

Without thinking much, he lifts the thin blanket to have a look at this aching torso. It’s a strange relief to see he’s still wearing his drawers, as if modesty was the thing that mattered most right now. He’s not exactly surprised by the cotton bandages wrapped tightly around his entire upper body, stained a grisly reddish-brown just below his left ribs. With a whispered oof he lets the merciful cover fall down again. Someone cared well for him. The thought hurts.

There’s a knock on the door and before Eli can say anything, Lem sticks his head into the room.

“Oh!” he exclaims and disappears again.

Water.

Eli carefully props himself up on his elbows. The pain isn’t as bad as he had feared, the headache on the other hand… Just when he has managed the arduous task of pushing back the blanket and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the door opens again and Maggie bursts into the small room, followed closely by Lem.

“Finally! I sure thought we’d lost you for good.”

Eli shrugs and attempts a half-smile. “How long…?” His voice breaks.

“About three days, I believe. Here, put this on, it’s one of Lem’s old shirts. It’s going to be far too large for you, but I couldn’t get all the blood out of yours.

“‘s okay. Thanks.”

“Not to mention the hole. You’re lucky it was a clean shot and I could get the bullet out quickly.”

“Mh-mh.” Putting on the checkered flannel shirt surprisingly hurts worse than (half) getting out of bed, and it takes longer, too. As predicted, it’s a very loose fit, but the fabric is soft and dry and that’s all he could ever ask for.

“How do you feel?” Lem asks from behind Maggie.

“Okay. I’m-” He makes a vague gesture toward his bare shins.

Maggie nudges Lem with her elbow. “Get the boy his pants. They’re still by the fireplace.”

Lem nods and disappears again, and Maggie sits down on the chair. “Do you think you can walk? It’s easier to put on pants standing up.”

She hands him her cane and when he pushes himself up from the mattress, the world goes blurry again. He takes a deep breath and, when the dizziness is gone, manages to hobble all the way to the kitchen table where Lem already awaits him with his good black pants. Supported on both sides by the Fikes, dressing himself has never felt more humiliating, but it works. Maggie hands him his boots, and suddenly he feels whole again. Exhausted, he collapses on a chair. The kitchen is as cozy as ever, lit by the fireplace and the first sunrays, warmed by the stove, the smell of beans and meat in the air. He can see his duster coat still hanging to dry by the fire, good thing he’d chosen the black one, for it too was certainly stained quite badly.

“Well done,” Maggie smiles, “you’re back from the dead.”

Lem puts down a steaming bowl of stew and a glass of water on the table in front of him. It’s a simple gesture. Eli almost tears up.

He empties the glass in one go, and it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

He doesn’t particularly feel like eating, but he knows the wobbly feeling in his legs is most likely caused by three days of involuntary fasting and not the gunshot wound. The stew doesn’t taste like much. It does him good, though, and as the warmth spreads inside of him, he can feel the headache slowly ebb away.

Both Lem and Maggie watch him intently, and when he finishes the bowl and gives them what he hopes is a cheery smile, Lem clears his throat.

“So,” - he wrings his hands, barely able to contain his grin - “there’s actually a little surprise for you.”

“For me?” He doesn’t want any more surprises. He wants to go back to bed and sleep for another three days.

“Yeah. I know you mentioned a few times you had a dog back at your camp, and well, look who showed up yesterday.”

He slowly opens the door that leads to the stairway and all Eli can make out is a flash of brown and white fur, and then Alba is all over him, climbing into his lap, licking his face and neck, only to jump down again and repeat the process. “Alba!” Eli laughs, trying to get hold of her and failing, “Good girl! No! Not the face! My girl!”

Once or twice she pushes against his abdomen and it explodes with pain, but he doesn’t care. The dog’s energy is contagious, and when she finally comes to rest in his lap, limp from excitement, her nose in his face, he thinks it has never felt so good to hold a living, breathing thing. He has to strain his neck to look past the foxhound’s shoulder and over to Maggie and Lem. “How did she find us?”

Maggie shrugs. “No idea. But she sure as hell woke the whole house with her scratching on the front door yesterday.”

“Except for me.”

“Well, I think you’re sufficiently excused. Oh, before I forget. There’s another thing.” She walks over to her desk and returns with a letter. “Lem collected it at the Valentine post office.”

“For me?” he asks again, stupidly. The only letters he ever receives are from Madam Nazar or sometimes Cripps, but this one looks different. The envelope is shabbier than those by Nazar, and less shabbier than those by Cripps, and the paper inside of it seems to weigh quite heavy.

“Elijah Ira Flanagan. That’s your name, ain’t it?” Maggie long knows that reading isn’t exactly his strong suit, so she opens the envelope without hesitation and starts to read aloud.

Within seconds, Eli feels a nausea he had long thought overcome.

Gently, he pushes Alba off his legs and after some protesting, she comes to rest with her head on his knee, drenching his freshly washed pants in drool, looking up to him with her quiet, brown eyes. Eli doesn’t return the trusty gaze. He stares into the fire, transfixed by the dancing flames and the words he hears.

… found myself back in these parts of the country … heard you have made quite a name for yourself … a lot has happened since then, almost none of it good … doesn’t feel the same without you ...

Maggie’s steady voice and the crackling of the fire make for an intriguing background noise as Eli remembers:

A hand wrapped tightly around his own.

A gun to his head.

A knife to his face.

Fuck.

Maggie reads and reads, a smirk on her lips and an eyebrow slightly raised, and all he wants to do is to slap the letter out of her hands or better, toss it straight into the fire.

All he does is blush.

When she folds the letter again, the last words hang heavy in the room, always yours, and a name he’d never wanted to hear or read again. He knows exactly what it must look like on the paper - big, clumsy letters, slanted to the right.

“Well,” Lem says from where he stands leaning against a kitchen cupboard, but before he can continue voicing whatever pointless thought he wants to release into the world, Eli gets up and makes for the door, Alba at his heels, tail wagging. He ignores the screaming pain in his side, and the nausea, and when the world goes blurry again, he wipes away a tear. He hears Lem call after him, followed by a vigorous Let him from Maggie.

Once the front door is open, the cool morning air hits him like a brick wall.

A deep breath.

Another one.

Life returning to his bones.

Dawn. A new beginning.

It’s gonna be fine.

Deep breath.

It’s a beautiful day, probably the most wretched one of his life. So far.

He turns around the house’s corner and relief washes over him as he sees Pepper tied to the hitching rail, munching on tough grass, waiting to take him somewhere far, far away. Again.

It’s gonna be fine.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Little Man

A/N: I kinda just got this random idea and went with it. Hope you guys like it! Pairing: Gerard x F!Reader (Single mom) Word count: 3,159 Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating and dramatic break ups.

Gerard was the perfect boyfriend, there was no doubt about it.

After the two of you had gone out together four times, you finally admitted that you had a four year old son. While guys you had previously gone out with had thrown themselves in other directions, leaving you behind to get out of the situation of being a father figure, Gerard took that with a kind smile and a simple “Alright”.

And to make it even better, Beau thought Gerard was the coolest person ever. From his occupation as the lead singer in a rock band, to the way he dressed, to his interests, Beau was fascinated, and immediately wanted to be just liked Gerard.

And you let him. Gerard got the little guy his first pair of black converse and leather jacket, and you eventually redid his whole closet to be jeans and cool little super hero and band t-shirts. The only thing that was off limits were piercings and dying hair.

You stood in the mirror, Beau on his stepping stool as you brushed out his hair, “But mama,” He complained, “Gerard doesn’t brush his hair.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“And you’re not Gerard.” You told him.

“But I wanna be!” “I know buddy.” You knelt down next to him, “But there are some basic things we have to do like brush your hair, okay? That way you look nice.” “But Gerard looks nice.” “I never said he didn’t,” You retorted, “But this is all mama asks, okay?” He reluctantly nodded. You two both heard the door open, Beau running out of the bathroom and down the hall.

“Gerard!” You could hear him yell, you trailing slowly behind him. Turning the corner you saw your boyfriend pick up Beau, swinging him around in the air once before placing him on his hip.

“Hey little man,” He smiled, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” He admitted.

“Nothing?” Gerard questioned, “I thought your mom always had you doing something.” “Only sometimes,” He responded.

“Hey,” Gerard looked to you, walking over and giving you a peck on the lips.

“Hey,” You said back, smiling, “Now you two have fun, just be back by eight.” “Of course,” Gerard said, “Ready bud?” He asked Beau, who was still on his hip. The young boy nodded.

“Bye mama!” He said.

“Bye, baby.” You gave him a quick kiss on the head. “You have fun. And be nice and polite.” “I will!” He said, Gerard flashing you a quick smile before departing out the door.

Beau had begged for months to be able to go with Gerard to the studio and help them with their new album. Despite Gee insisting that he and the guys were more than happy to have him, you were worried about how much of a disturbance he would be. While you loved Beau, the little guy liked to talk. A lot.

But at least this gave you an opportunity to get some additional work done, and some down time. Your job as an editor for a publishing house meant lots of reading and note taking, not that you minded, it was your passion. But it was tiring.

Hours went by, sitting on the couch with you computer, red wine, and sweatpants. You heard the door open, looking up to see Gerard walk in again, this time Beau on his chest, his head in his neck asleep. You lightly smiled, Gerard smiling back. “Hey,” You whispered, getting up and closing your laptop, walking over to where the two of them were, Gerard carefully taking his shoes off with his feet to not wake Beau up.

“Hey,” He whispered back, kissing you.

“Want me to get him to bed?” You asked and he shook his head.

“I got him.” He responded, moving slightly past you and into his bedroom. There, he quickly tucked the boy in, despite his jeans and shirt being on, as you both knew he would at one point or another wake up briefly in the upcoming hours.

“How did it go?” You asked Gerard as he walked back out from Beau’s room, sitting on the couch next to you.

“Incredible,” He smiled, “All the guys loved him, Ray taught him a few chords on guitar, he actually wrote a lyric, and he got to sing.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” You asked, “How’s his ability to sing?” “Better than any four year old I’ve heard.” You lightly laughed.

“Thank you.” You said lightly, caressing his cheek. Gerard leaned in and gave you another kiss.

“It’s the least I could do.” He replied. You smiled even more, making him smile more, and leading very quickly into a couch make out session, which only lasted a few minutes before your phone began to ring.

“Hello?” You answered, sitting back on the couch as Gerard placed his hand on your thigh.

“Y/N, hey it’s Calem.” “What do you need?” You asked harshly, Gerard giving you a quizzical look at your sudden change in tone.

“Wow, not even a hello?” Your ex joked over the phone.

“If you don’t tell me what you need in the next 10 seconds I’m going to hang up and block your ass.” “Fine,” He reluctantly sighed, “I’m in New York for the next few days. I was wondering if I could come see Beau tomorrow, take him out for the day.” You sighed.

“Fine,” You said, “Be here at 9, have him back by 5.” “Of course.” He replied and you hung up.

“Who was that?” Gee asked, still looking confused.

“Calem.” You sighed, throwing your phone on the coffee table and taking your head in your hands, sighing heavily. “He’s in town, wants to see Beau tomorrow.”

“So you said yes?” You nodded.

“I mean, he’s his biological dad, I wasn’t gonna say no.” He nodded.

“Mama?” You heard a small voice from around the kitchen.

“Yeah, baby, what’s up?” You asked Beau, who stood in the hallway rubbing his eyes.

“How long have I been ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Only about an hour love.” You admitted as he gave out a loud yawn. “It’s probably about time you get back to it.” You got up, walking over and picking the small boy up. “Will Gerard sleep over?” He asked you, looking back at Gerard.

“I don’t know, lovely.” You admitted. “I can if you want.” You heard him say behind you, Beau nodding his head and then placing it on your shoulder.

“Yes please.” He said, you began brushing his hair with your fingers.

“Mkay bud, let’s get you to bed.” You said, taking him into his room, helping him get into pajamas and then into bed.

You gave him a kiss on the head, tucking him in and turning off his lights before walking a short way down the hall of your apartment into your room where Gerard was putting a shirt on for bed. “Hey,” He said lightly, seeing you walk in a shut the door. He could tell you were in a mood.

So he let you go and take your time in the shower, slowly changing before treading your way into your bed next to him. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, “And be honest.”

“Anxious,” You said, “Really anxious.”

“Wanna talk about it? It may make you feel better?” You nodded, curling up into his side as he placed his arm around you, squeezing into you, playing with wet strands of your hair.

For almost an hour you told Gerard everything, head placed in his lap as he listened. “It’s just so frustrating.” You finished off, he lightly nodded his head.

“It’s okay, babe.” He said lightly, “Everything will go fine tomorrow. And if it doesn’t, I’ll beat the shit out of him.” You chuckled.

“Thanks, Gee.” You said, leaning up and giving him a kiss. The two of you later drifted off to sleep.

You woke up, Gerard still sleeping next to you, so you slowly rose out of bed and into the sunlight directing into from the floor to ceiling windows and into the room. Your bare feet pattered lightly on the hardwood floors and into the bathroom where you began to get ready.

“Morning, honey.” You heard Gerard’s morning voice ring as he walked in to the bathroom, hugging you from behind and placing his head in the crook in your neck.

“Morning, Gee.” You lightly laughed, brushing your teeth and using one of your hands to brush his messy hair with your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful.” He muttered into your shoulder making a light pink blush grow on your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You said, leaning back into him.

“Should I go wake him up?” Gerard asked next, making eye contact with you in the mirror. You nodded.

“Probably.” He let go of you, trudging his way out of your bathroom to Beau’s room. A few minutes later you heard the small boys laughter, Gerard and he walking in. Beau was comfortably seated on the older man’s shoulders, hanging on as he ran around with him.

He sat him down gently on the floor, letting him hop off and run to you, “Good morning baby.” You smiled, ruffling his hair a bit. “Morning Mama.” He lightly laughed, clinging onto your leg. You picked him up, placing him on your hip and taking him to his room giving Gerard time to get ready.

“Gotta get dresses babes,” You said, “You’re seeing daddy today.” He looked up at you.

“Daddy?” You nodded. “Okay.” He said in a monotone voice.

You got him dressed in a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt, and of course his leather jacket which he insisted he had to have. “Ready bubs?” You asked and he nodded, “Alright, he’ll be here in 10.”

The two of you walked out into the kitchen, where Gerard was already dressed with his coffee, yours sitting at the island. “Hey little man.” Gerard said, giving Beau a quick high five as he walked by.

“Gerard?” He asked him, Gee’s attention going completely to the boy. “When will I get to go back and help you make music?” Gerard smiled.

“Whenever you want, dude.” He said. Beau smiled.

“Okay, good.” You lightly laughed under your breath at his response. Then you heard a knock at the door. The three of you stopped, Beau going to the door before you two, Gerard taking a brief moment to give a light squeeze to your arm for reassurance.

“You know mama’s phone number if you need anything, right?” You asked Beau and he nodded, “And Gerard’s?” He nodded again.

You headed to the door, opening it. There was your ex, standing at the other side, giving a very tight smile if one when you opened the door. “Hey Calum.” You said, Beau next to you.

“Hey,” He responded, “Ready bud?” He asked Beau who nodded, walking out to be next to his dad. Gerard emerged from behind you.

“Bye Mama, bye Gerard.” Beau said and both of you waved.

“Still playing with toys I see?” Calum asked, glancing between you and Gerard.

“Gerard is not a toy,” You stated clearly, “And I never have. Unlike someone who think it’s okay to with a pregnant fiance.” You flashed him a petty smile. He looked slightly shocked, gulping. “Alright, bud, we should probably get going.” He said, the two of them walking down your apartment buildings hall and to the elevator, you shutting the door behind you.

“Was that too harsh?” You turned to Gerard who was still behind you.

“Eh,” He said, sipping his coffee, “He’s a dick, so no.” You lightly smiled. “Come here.” He told you, stretching his arms out. You graciously caved into him, wrapping your arms around him as he did yours. “Everything’ll be alright honey.” He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“I hope so, Gee.” You said, holding onto him tighter.

The two of you spent the day overall working and picking up around the apartment. It wasn’t the most enjoyable task in the world, but it needed to get done.

Finally, the two of you plopped yourselves on the couch, sighing out in relief of the jobs being done. You were still tense, thinking about Beau and what could be going on, ‘Everything’s fine’ you tried to reassure yourself.

“Babe,” Gerard spoke up, “Are you alright?” You nodded.

“Yeah, totally.” “Be honest with me,” He said, “I’m not dumb.”

“I’m just really worried about Beau.” He nodded, letting you lean yourself onto him as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay, love.” He said, “Just relax, okay? If worst comes to worst if something does happen we’ll deal with it when he gets back, okay?” You nodded into his chest. “Hey, look at me,” He said, placing his fingers on your chin and moving your head up to look at him in the eyes, “We both love Beau, if anything happens we will deal with it. Okay?” You nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss, which quickly led to a make out session, which quickly led to bedroom activities.

“What time is it?” You asked, still out of breath and next to Gerard. He looked over, his now sweaty black hair moving with him.

“4:30.” He responded.

“Shit.” You sat up, using the duvet to cover yourself, “We need to shower before Beau gets back.” “We could shower together.” Gerard smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“I would love to, but we gotta be fast. And if we go in together it will not be short.” “Fine.” He sighed. You got up, quickly getting to the bathroom to shower, which only took ten minutes thankfully, and change back into your regular clothes from earlier, making the bed while Gerard took his own.

You brushed out your wet hair, putting it into a ponytail hopefully making it less noticeable that you had just showered. The two of you walked out into the living room, sitting on the couch and watching some random TV show awaiting the arrival of your son. So when the doorbell rang, you both sprang up, practically running to the door.

You opened it, your ex and son standing there. “Alright, bye bud.” He told Beau, who seemed to reluctantly give his dad a hug, saying bye back and walking in. It could have just been your motherly instincts, but you knew something was off.

“Bye Calum.” You told him, giving a tight smile and him giving one back before you shut the door. “Hey Bub,” You squatted down to talk to Beau, his small head facing down. “How was it?” “Okay.” He said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“Just okay?” You asked and he nodded. “Alright baby, why don’t you go put your stuff in your room?” You suggested, he nodded and walked off. “Something’s wrong.” You immediately turned to Gerard, mid-panic.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said, trying to calm you down, “We’ll figure this out, okay? Just like we said.” You nodded frantically.

“I- I’m gonna go talk to him.” Gerard nodded in agreement, staying in the living room so you could discuss with your son. “Hey babes,” You walked in, lightly knocking. Beau was at his tiny desk drawing something, so you walked over. “So,” You sat on his bed, “How did it go with daddy?” “Eh,” You shrugged, not looking away from his drawing.

“What do you mean eh?” You asked.

“Not good.” He admitted, getting up and placing his work with some others he had in a small pile in the corner of his room.

“What happened?” You asked. He stopped looking to you as you saw tears fill his eyes. “Hey, hey baby.” You got up, squatting down and caressing his cheeks, wiping away any and all fallen tears. “What happened, bubs?” “Daddy said,” He began, stumbling on his words, “That Gerard was bad.” “He said Gerard was bad?” You asked, he nodded.

“I-I was telling him how c-cool G-Geard was, and h-he di-didn’t like it.” This time he tried to wipe away his own tears. “I-I told him I-I wanted G-Gerad to a-adopt me.” “Adopt you?” You asked, partially stunned. “Do you even know what that means.” “G-Gerad would become my d-dad.” You sighed, looking to the floor then back up at him.

“Do you really want that?” You asked next and he nodded. “Okay bud.” You kissed the top of his head, giving him a hug, “Why don’t you nap, okay? Then we can have dinner after.” He nodded, rubbing his eyes. You got him tucked in his bed, in some sleep clothes, and placed his favorite stuffed dog in bed with him. “I love you so much.” You said, lightly smiling and playing his his small strands of hair.

“I love you to, Mama.” He replied, “I wanna say I love you to Gerard too.” You lightly chuckled.

“Alright, I’ll send him in.” You got up, leaving out and turning out the light, going to get Gerard. “Hey,” You said lightly when you got to the living room, “Beau wants to say something to you.” “Oh, okay.” He perked up, getting up and walking down the hall to the young boy’s room. You sat on the couch, head in your hands, trying to contemplate what was going on. You weren’t sure what hurt you more: What Calum had said about Gerard, or Beau’s reaction to it.

“Hey,” Gerard walked out and lightly smiled, sitting next to you, “What happened.” “Too much.” You sighed, leaning back, “Apparently, Calum told Beau that you’re ‘bad’.” You shook your head.

“That I’m bad?” Gerard looked confused, you nodded.

“And Beau’s super upset.” He huffed.

“Damn fucker I-” “Hey, hey,” You said grabbing Gerard’s arm, “Let’s think about all of this first.” You told him, making eye contact, “I think there’s something else you should know.” He nodded, letting you know to go on, “Beau, he-” You paused, “He wants you to adopt him.” Gerard’s eyes went wide in shock.

“Like, legally?” You nodded.

“I think.”

“I um-”

“I know, if we were to even consider that it would be years out. But I just wanted to let you know.” He nodded.

“You know that makes this all the more harder?” He told you.

“I know, but we gotta stay strong through this mild drama for Beau.” “For Beau.” He concluded.

You two were in the kitchen cooking dinner when you heard small footsteps. “Hey little man.” Gerard greeted a tired Beau, walking in with his PJs and rubbing his eyes.

“Hi Gerard.” He said, yawning. Gerard naturally picked him up, placing him on his hip.

“How was your nap, man?” He asked, moving some of his droopy hair out of his face.

“Good.” He replied, leaning into the man, “Hey Gerard?” He said.

“Hm?” He replied, looking down at the boy.

“I love you.” “I love you too, little dude.”

[talkfastromance4]

The Click-- Calum Hood (soulmate!au)

It’s here! I’ve never written soulmate stuff before so this is probably really different from what you’ve normally read, and it’s different from what I normally write but this really has a part of my heart in it.  Inspired by Lang Leav’s wonderful works (the poems up above) and some weird instances I’ve been having.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: none, no smut whatsoever (I know who am I?)

Son inspiration: Then I saw You by Tatiana Manois and Surrender by Natalie Taylor

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright is listed at bottom*

• • • •

Two strangers both alike in mind have a book propped open with words inked in of love and heartbreak and other musings. They are alike because they mark their favorite poems by dog ears and highlights with little scrawls of their own thoughts scratched into the margins.

Late night for her, early morning for him as they’re on two different sides of the country, it’s not just miles that separate them, but the day and night. The moon comforts her and is her light as she reads of a love shared between two poets. The sun is his friend and a warm embrace as he delves deeper and deeper into the pages of the same love but tinged with an air of sophisticated provocativeness.

While on their Spotify playlists, the same artists and songs are shared between the two. Music and lyrics, words, and prose, two hearts longing for the same thing. 

A love to be written about, a love to be shared, an adventurous love that is unique because it is their own. In both their minds, that kind of love doesn’t seem tangible. To be added to their likeness, they’re both the only single ones amongst their friends and have been for a while. 

Calum showered his friends in love, giving his friends small gifts and helping in any way that he could. He was always down for a good time, sharing laughs and making memories. Rose was the same, she enjoyed being with her friends and family. 

In the daylight they appeared fine and well put together but going home to an empty house in a lonely bed is where they felt the weight of their ache. Sometimes it kept them both up, reading their poetry books or writing their own. His were songs while hers were just words but the premise was the same, dreaming of love. 

She received an opportunity of a lifetime to go to school for her writing. A quiet dream she’d held safe in the privacy of her own mind. It was thrilling yet terrifying moving to a whole new city, the city of angels. Her best friend stayed with her for a week helping her adjust in her new albeit small studio apartment.

It was a steal that was right above a coffee bookshop, a place where she’d also received a job. When she wouldn’t be in school, she’d be working to help pay for rent. While she unpacked and decorated her place, she kept pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

When her classes started, she was up by 4 a.m. because of her nerves and her excitement, it bundled up inside her. She ran through her schedule three times, checked her bag that she had the right textbooks and her small laptop.

She read her favorite poems until it was time for her first class. The owner of the shop already had her coffee made to her liking with a cranberry orange muffin already in a bag. 

“Thanks Teresa,” she smiles, taking the goodies.

“Have a great first day! Do you want a picture with your bag?” Teresa is a kind, thirty-something year old woman. She’s living her dream owning a coffee bookshop and has the kindest smile. 

“I’m okay, don’t need a reminder I’m starting with kids fresh outta high school.”

“You’re not that much older, twenty-five is still young, Rose,” Teresa smiles. “Enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” she smiles then waves with her pinky. 

Her first day of classes is just how she thought they’d be, the awkward introductions that she rehearsed in her head before speaking, going through the itinerary for the semester and then reading a few chapters and taking some notes. Rose loved every minute of it. 

During lunch and her breaks, she reread through each itinerary again and bookmarks the pages in her textbook she’ll be needing. In between that, she reads her poetry book and jots down a few of her own thoughts. 

Then, the day is done and she starts her four hour shift at the bookshop that would last until closing time at 9:30. Rose quickly discovered that this would be a very easy job because it didn’t get a rush of people for dinner. 

Some other students she passed on campus would stop in with a friend and share a cup of coffee or tea. By 7:30 there were only a couple of people scattered about the shop, books, or tablets in front of them as the soft indie music played throughout. 

Rose gathers her books into her bag behind the counter before she moves to the bookshelf wall to restock the books left on the small wooden tables. She finds herself humming along to a song she knows when there’s a commotion outside.

The other guests inside turn to look as well through the windows framed in the purple and blue twilight shade to see a couple. They’re the source of the noise as both their voices rise over the other and when he throws his arms in the air that’s when Rose turns back to her task.

Clearly whatever was happening outside was a private moment and Rose couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the saying ‘outside looking in’ while she’s inside but was just looking into their outside debacle. Her mind always thinks of outlandish things like that, she calls it her circle thinking because she can run with the same thought over and over. 

It doesn’t make sense to others, but it does to her.

After a few moments, she glanced outside, and the couple was gone. The streetlights had flickered on and she could see stars poking through the darkened sky. She hopes she’ll see the moon upstairs. 

After the last guest leaves, she locks the door and sweeps up the shop, wipes down tables and locks the cash drawer in the small vault in the back. She checks that the back door is locked after tossing the garbage out quickly and runs upstairs to her studio apartment. She makes a cup of hot cocoa before bed and reads and writes into her favorite poetry book, her journal next to her. 

The hot cocoa made her sleepy and she fell fast asleep with her book atop her chest. She dreamed of someone that held a powerful connection with her, he understood her and made her smile. By morning, the dream slipped away with the stars and she started her new routine over again. 

***

Calum’s fingers tap impatiently on the laminate surface of the table as he sat through this meeting. It was mundane but necessary that he be here because the band had decided to take a year off. The world is still in recovery from the pandemic and they agreed collectively to hold off on anything until there was some decent footing again. 

He’s been in a bit of a mood since he and Zoe fought a few weeks ago after having dinner. They weren’t exclusive, only seeing each other on occasion and that night she brought up soulmates. She was almost nagging at him that he wasn’t hers and that they were wasting their time when he reminded her, she was the one to call him. 

He hasn’t heard from her since. 

His mind wandered throughout, thinking of ways he can occupy the next 365 days when he wasn’t writing music. Music is his life; it’s always been a constant and has pulled him through some tough situations and has uplifted him in joyous ones. On the TV stuck to the wall there was a news report scanning at the bottom that the university not too far from his home has the highest enrollment rate.

That piques his interest. He reads the closed caption below the broadcaster as it says open enrollment has become the new norm, welcoming students from all ages to attend. This information strikes a chord within Calum and he’s found what he wants to do with his year off. 

When the meeting had finally finished, Calum decided to head over to the university and see if he could still enroll. The semester started only a few weeks ago but with this new window of free time, he’s sure he could catch up. 

Enrolling turned out to be easy. He had a meeting with a counselor to discuss what his intentions were and if there was any specific study he wanted to get into. He selected creative writing and psychology, bought his books, got his schedule and he was officially a college student. 

The night before his first class, Calum is restless. He tosses. He turns. He stares out the window of his room, the moon winking at him through the small opening of the curtain. Duke is snoring softly to his left and Calum’s mind is racing. 

Thoughts tumble over one another, scenarios flash across his mind and then he hears a random melody in his head that sounds too familiar and it helps him drift off to sleep. 

***

Calum is racing to get to his first class, he didn’t wake up to his alarm until thirty minutes after the intended time and he blamed it all on a dream. A dream that felt so real he thought the woman in his subconscious was still speaking to him in his ear. 

He threw on the first article of clothing his fingers touched, gargled with mouthwash, and shoved a beanie on his head. Regrettably, he didn’t have time to stop for coffee and he hoped there would be some sold on campus somewhere. 

Calum just got settled into his seat at the back of the lecture when the Professor stood at the front and began to speak. Thankfully, Calum retrieved notes from the three weeks he missed and read them all weekend, so he picked up easily with what the Professor is talking about. 

He smiles to himself, maybe he is cut out for school. 

Calum is surprised how drained he feels after his first day. His head is swimming with new knowledge and he’s anxious to get home and get to work. On his walk back to the parking structure where his car is parked, he sees the coffee bookshop he and Zoe fought in front of almost a month ago. 

The sign above the bay window reads ‘CBS’ and in smaller print below that it reads ‘coffee bookshop’ and he smiles at the simple cleverness. He remembers Ashton has gone in there a few times and said the coffee is great. Calum makes a promise to himself that he’ll stop there tomorrow morning before class to grab a cup.

His night is spent reading over the homework and answering a few of the discussion questions while Duke sat in his lap. Calum tried writing down the lyrics of the song he heard this morning, but he couldn’t distinguish what they were. To wind down, he had his favorite Michael Faudet book propped on his stomach as he read through each page.

He reads through his own writing; his words transport him to that point in time when the words flowed out of him effortlessly. One poem resonates in his mind as he reads about love being compared to that of a rose and the lilting melody from this morning trickled into his ears again and he instantly relaxed. His mind quieted and his eyelids felt heavy as he replayed the same simple notes over and over. 

A beautiful melody without any words.

The loud vibration of his phone woke him up before the actual song did, but he leapt out of bed immediately. The promise of a hot cup of coffee egged him on to take a shower and dress in something nicer than a wrinkled band shirt he had on yesterday. 

Traffic wasn’t that bad, and he parked his car on the first level of the structure and he still had forty-five minutes until his first class. Today is shaping up to be the start of a good one and just as he locks his phone so he can open the door of the CBS, he collides with a body. 

Books go flying. His phone clutters to the ground and he panics at the fatality that could be evident in the million cracks of his screen. Rushed ‘sorry’s’ are exchanged between him and the stranger as they scramble to gather their things. Their bodies twist away from each other as he shoves his books and pens back into his bag. 

When he stands to apologize again, she’s already bustling away, her red scarf blowing behind her in the morning breeze. He sighs then heads inside to examine his phone, but he looks back again to try and get a glimpse of her face. She’s already gone. While they were scrambling to get their belongings, he noted how the smell of coconuts, vanilla, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on, invaded his nostrils. It made him think of the ocean.

He examines his phone to find there isn’t a scratch on it and when he unlocks it there’s a picture of the poem he read last night. Roses. The girl he bumped into smelled of roses. 

***

Rose is having an off day. Her alarm didn’t even go off and she put in a generous amount of dry shampoo in her hair but resulted in putting on a hat. She didn’t even have time to get her coffee and muffin from Teresa for she rushed out the front door and collided with some guy. 

Without her coffee it was hard for her to focus and when she got called on in class, she had to ask the professor to repeat the question because she didn’t hear it. Then her laptop crashed, and she couldn’t work on an assignment that’s due by Friday. 

By the time she made it to CBS, she didn’t want to work her shift. Customers were being needy and rude and all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and read. After eating a quick microwave dinner, Rose took a hot shower then turned on her favorite playlist titled ‘Blue’ for moments like this. 

She opens her bag to grab her poetry book, ‘The Universe of Us’ but finds its exact counterpart of Lang Leav; Michael Faudet’s book ‘Cult of Two’ lays on her table. 

Did she put that in her bag by mistake? 

It was a rough morning so it is possible, but she could have sworn she grabbed the book from her bedside table. Sighing, Rose takes the book to place it back on her shelf then becomes more confused when she sees the same book in her hands, perched snugly on the shelf with her other poetry books. 

Rose knows she only has one copy, so where did this one come from and where is her book? She tosses the white paperback onto her bed and empties her whole bag, checking each book twice. How could she have lost it? It’s always buried safely in the bottom of her bag and she didn’t take it out all day except--

Rose gasps. This morning when she was leaving the shop she bumped into a guy and all their belongings went flying. She must have grabbed his book by mistake, and he grabbed hers. Panic sets in, she’s written down some of her innermost thoughts in that book, personal things.

Now this random stranger has her soul in his hands, and she might never see him again. With angry tears in her eyes she crawls into bed while Lewis Capaldi’s voice thrums around her walls. Needing comfort, she opens the strangers’ book then snaps it shut just as fast because there’s handwriting on the pages. 

Just like hers.

***

Calum is reading about the red string of fate. After that run in with the girl outside CBS a month ago, he read through her book and became transfixed with those words she wrote down. He knows he shouldn’t have read her thoughts, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. Clearly the poetry captivated her, but her words captivated him.

The red string of fate is a Japanese legend meant to tie soulmates together by their pinkies. No matter the circumstance, the time or place, the two will always find each other. It may stretch and it may tangle but it will never break. He’s never heard of it before now, but he’s become obsessed with the idea of it. 

Every morning he’s stopped by CBS to see if he’ll run into her again so he can return her book, but he’s never seen her. His classes are going well and he’s learning so much, his creativity is overflowing. Much of that is because of this girl’s book. 

Its spine is overly creased from endless love of reading, some words are highlighted and circled. Pages are dog eared on what he assumes are her favorite poems. Calum smiled the first time he paged through it all because he’s written in his book as well. He wonders if she’s read any of his musings yet. 

“Bro, I haven’t seen you without that book. Where’s yours?” Ashton asks while they’re out for lunch. 

“Um, I lost it actually. I bumped into this girl outside the CBS and our things scattered everywhere. We switched books,” Calum explains flipping the pages. “She writes it in like I do.”

“You read it? Mate,” Ashton sighs exasperatedly, “that’s an invasion of privacy.”

“I know, I know! But I can’t get enough of it. She’s smart and passionate in what she writes. I wish I got a better look at her when I bumped into her so I could return it.”

“There’s no name inside?”

“Nope. She could be in one of my classes for all I know,” Calum sighs then picks away at the corner of the cover. “What was it like when you and Ruby found each other?”

Ruby is Ashton’s soulmate and they’ve been together for almost two years now. Calum remembers the change in Ashton when she came into his life, he was lighter. 

“I heard her voice in my head.”

“What did she say?”

Ashton smiles, “My name.”

“Then how did you find her?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” Ashton’s brows crease. “It was only a few days after I heard her voice that I knew her name. It came to me out of the blue. Do you remember anything about her?”

“She had on this red scarf and smelled like a rose.” Calum suddenly felt a wave of dizziness swim in his head and he held onto his temples.

“You okay?” Ashton reaches over as if to help but he’s not sure what’s happening to his friend. 

“Woah, that was weird, I got super dizzy,” Calum says blinking a few times until he can see straight again. He removes his fingers from his temples and Ashton is giving him a funny look. “What?”

“What did she smell like again?” he leans forward.

“A rose, why--fuck!” the wave of dizziness crashes into him again and it’s like his brain is spinning in his head. When his vision returns Ashton is smiling gleefully. “Glad to see you enjoy my pain.”

“Don’t you see?! You got vertigo as soon as you said rose. That must be her name.”

“Really? Is that what happened when you said Ruby’s name?”

“Yeah basically, but it wasn’t this strong. She must be close,” Ashton looks around him as if she’ll appear out of thin air. “I suggest going to CBS morning and night, she’s gotta be there at some point.”

***

Rose is flicking through the pages of the new poetry book she acquired. Curiosity killed the cat and she just had to dig her claws between the pages because she’s sure he’s already done the same or will soon enough. 

Some of his thoughts left her breathless and with an odd familiar feeling at the way it’s structured. Some of his sentences seem more like lyrics that she’s heard before but can never find the tune that goes with it.

She hadn’t been feeling well this morning, nausea and dizziness made her skip her classes and she laid in bed all day. It would come and go throughout the day and right before bed she drew herself a bubble bath with some candles. The flickering light created the perfect ambience while she read Faudet’s words and the mysterious stranger. 

Where her notes are written in paragraphs or stanzas, his are scattered about the page. Sometimes she has to turn the book to read it upside down. The curse words make her laugh and sometimes there’s a fun little drawing. 

It isn’t until she reaches the last few pages and she’s reading about a blue angel and knocking back a shot when she stumbles on a name that is not the author. It’s a name she’s heard before, a name she’s known of and has seen floating around her social media.

“Calum Hood,” she mumbles, and she instantly becomes dizzy again. It happens so fast it startles her, and she nearly drops the book into the bubbles. Somehow in her bewilderment she managed to let it flop onto the bathroom floor. 

The bathwater and bubbles slosh over the sides as she reaches for the book again. Did she read that right? Her fingers leave dark, pudgy circles on the pages as she goes to that page again. 

“Calum,” she breathes, and the room spins again causing her to drop the book once more. “Okay, okay, okay, okay. . .”

Rose gets out of the bath quickly, letting the water drain noisily as she dries off and puts on her pajamas. The spinning has stopped, and she sits cross legged in the middle of her bed, the poetry book open to the poem and her phone opened to Instagram and Twitter.

She’s been an avid fan for quite a few years now and to think if he was the one, she bumped into? With her thumbs hovering over the keyboard she closes her eyes trying to remember anything about him from that morning. 

All she can remember is the rush to gather her things and his soft husky voice as he said sorry. She didn’t look at him once and it’s very possible she bumped into Calum Hood. Her mind racing, she texts every one of her friends that have already found their soulmates asking what and how it happened. 

She needs answers because how odd is it that she’s felt dizzy and nauseous all day then sees his name, says it, and gets dizzy all over again? Is that what’s supposed to happen? Does this mean he’s been saying her name all this time as well? 

Her friends' responses were pretty much the same. In each instance they heard his or her voice in their head say their name. Why hadn’t she heard his voice? Could he hear hers? Rose unlocks her phone and searches his name, turns out he’s gone back to school. The same school she’s attending but it doesn’t say what he’s studying, which is good because it must be annoying having everyone know what’s going on in your life. 

Rose falls back onto her pillows burrowing under the covers and shuts off the light. 

“Please let me go to school tomorrow, Calum,” she huffs then turns over to hug her pillow. 

She swears she hears a ghostly laugh in her ear before sleep consumes her. 

***

“I bite back.”

Calum still hears the soft voice from his dream, he can still feel the soft brush of her lips against his ear as she said those words. He’s staring up at the ceiling replaying the dream of sitting next to a girl. In his subconscious it felt like he already knew her, and they carried a conversation well. He doesn’t remember exactly what he was saying but he can hear those three words as if she were laying right next to him. 

He greets Duke with quick kisses before letting him outside and Calum washes his face, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed. After he brings Duke in, Calum gathers his bags making sure The Universe of Us is right at the top. 

He’s been going to CBS early each morning so he can sit and try to watch for the girl he bumped into. He has one cup of coffee and reads through her pages until it’s time to go for class. A few times he thought he recognized her, but the girl in question always turned out to be just a fan and wanted a quick chat and photo. 

They never smelled like roses, so he knew it wasn’t her.

After his final sip of coffee, he flips to a page with the title ‘The One’ and he immediately goes to the girl’s handwritten words. 

‘And I want you to be the one for me. The one who brings out my storm but also calms the waves. I want you to be my perfect counterpart. Is my red string frayed?’

Calum smiles at the last sentence. He wishes he could tell her that no, it isn’t frayed and he’s trying his damndest to find her. He gathers his things and heads out the door because his first class is starting in fifteen minutes.

Just as he walked out the door, if he would have waited one more minute, Rose came by his table and cleaned up his dishes to help Teresa out before she went on her way to class. 

“How are you feeling today Rose?” Teresa asks, taking the dirty dishes from her. 

“A little better,” Rose shrugs, “I can’t miss two days. Are you sure it’s alright I can switch my shift from tonight to tomorrow?”

“Of course. You need to catch up on what you missed, Colbie will cover for you. Take it easy, you still look a little pale,” Teresa frowns. 

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” Rose smiles then waves. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The day runs as normal for them both. Calum has felt this growing energy within him as if something is about to happen, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’s been looking at every woman he passes waiting to see if there’s a connection or a siren that will go off as if to say “that’s her! That’s her!” but he comes up short. 

Rose still feels a little queasy throughout the day and she’s distracted because all she wants to do is read Calum’s poetry book to try and find another connection. 

When the school day is over, she sets up her workspace at her favorite table by the bookshelf in a large, plush chair. Her own latte sits next to her while she quickly does her homework and opens the book. From the corner of her eye a tall figure sits in the chair on the other side of the table. She pays it no mind until there’s a loud crash.

The stranger knocked her cup to the floor, and it shattered, white foam and coffee filling up the grooves in the tile. 

“Shit, I’m sorry--”

“It’s okay,” she says automatically. 

They both reach for the largest fragment of broken cup; their pinkies touch and Rose feels something click inside her. Her skin is hot where he touches her, and with her heart pounding like a thousand horses running, she looks up. 

He knew who she was before he looked into her eyes, when they came in such proximity, he smelled the roses and the coconut and the vanilla. When their pinkies touched, he felt a spark shoot up his veins, that’s the siren he’s been waiting for and when he looked into her eyes? Everything clicked into place.

“Rose?”

“Calum?”

They both laugh nervously, their pinkies still touching. Rose feels her cheeks warm and Calum can’t stop smiling at her. After their small moment, they clean up the mess of the broken cup and sit back in their respective chairs. 

“I think this is yours,” she holds out his book that she was currently reading. 

“And I believe--” he pulls out her book from his bag holding it up “--this is yours.”

Having it in her possession again makes it feel like a lost limb has been returned home. Calum flips through his own book noticing the wrinkled pages. He knows she read it and he’s so glad she’s the one who did. He watches her rifle through the pages, soft fingers tracing over words that have been printed and words she’s inked in herself. 

“You’re a wonderful writer,” he comments, and her eyes flash up to him.

“You are too, but you’re a musician so that’s no surprise,” she giggles, and Calum loves the sound. 

Talking comes easily between Calum and Rose, but how could it not when they’re soulmates? As the night gets longer and the shop is about to close, Rose invites him up for some tea and he gladly accepts. 

While she’s setting up the kettle, he examines her bookshelf, some books he’s read, and others grab his attention that he wants to ask her about. Soft music fills the room and he smiles because this is on one of his playlists as well.

“How do you like your tea?” she asks, and Calum moves back to the kitchen area. 

“Little bit of milk and honey and some sugar,” he smiles, watching her add the ingredients.

Their fingers brush again when he accepts the cup from her, another spark ignites but it starts a different type of warmth. Calum becomes very aware of both their actions. He’s aware of how close she sits next to him on the couch, he’s aware of the way she licks her lips and how badly he wants to kiss them. 

“So, this is . . . a little crazy, right?” she laughs awkwardly, her finger circling the rim of the mug. “How did you find me? Did you hear my voice? Because I didn’t hear yours.”

“What did you experience then?” he asks, setting his mug on the small table in front of them. 

“I was home for a whole day because I just felt really dizzy and nauseous, then when I was taking a bath and reading your book, I saw your name, said it out loud and had another dizzy spell. I think I dreamed of you, too. . .” her brows furrowed in confusion.

Calum tries not to let her small tidbit of information that she was in the bath when she said his name get to him, but he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He was at home playing with Duke when he felt another wave of dizziness hit, it came upon him so fast that he practically fell onto the couch. It felt different then when he said her name, it was stronger. 

“I’m sorry, when I discovered your name, I kept saying it,” he admits fiddling with one of his rings. 

“How’d you find out my name?” 

“I was talking with my friend, Ashton and I told him about the day we collided and how you smelled like a rose. You know what’s funny? When we said each other’s name downstairs I didn’t feel dizzy, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head then looks at him, “what does that mean?”

“I--” he stops short when the song shifts, and he gasps. “I’ve had this melody stuck in my head for weeks, is this you singing?”

“Absolutely not,” Rose laughs and rises from the couch to turn it up on her phone. “It calms me down, so I play it a lot. What was--oh!”

She spun around and Calum was standing right in front of her. She didn’t realize how tall he is until right now and the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent reminds her of a home she’s come back to. 

“I have an idea as to why we didn’t hear each other’s voices,” he says, stepping even closer. 

“What’s that?” Rose licks her lips.

“We feel things, and instead of vocalizing them, we write them down or listen to it in music,” he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Even the books we read the authors are in love.”

Rose chuckles at that. “Yeah, what are the odds they’re our favorites?”

“Pretty high, since we were made for each other,” he smiles. His fingers tickle her cheek as he tilts her head up, her eyes are shining, and the smell of roses invades his senses. He inches his mouth closer to hers, “I’m ready to surrender to this, Rose.”

She nods and closes the small space between their lips and it’s as if everything stops. The only thing she can feel are his soft, warm lips on hers, the calluses of his fingers on her cheek and the way his other hand wraps around her waist. He pulls her close and she grabs hold of his shirt, kissing him is like a breath of fresh air. 

He pulls her even closer, chest against chest and she gasps at the movement but welcomes his tongue excitedly. They kiss feverishly, as if this is the only time they have. But they have many more days and many more moments to make memories of. 

They’re breathing heavily when they break the kiss, she feels him smile against her lips and gives her two soft pecks. 

“Calum?”

“Hmm?” his thumb strokes her cheek affectionately.

“You made my world stop spinning.”

• • • •

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[travesty-majesty]

Dear Dad.

Wilbur's final letter.

Word count; 1446.

Read also on ao3

Suicide tw!!

Dear Dad. I hope and pray to a non-existent god that you never see this letter. My pride is begging me to stop writing this, to leave it be and let us live in blissful ignorance. But even just writing it for the sake of my own conscience is... perhaps what I need to do right now. I'm so thankful you read all of my letters. You sent replies. It made me so happy to recieve them at dawn, carried by your messenger crows. Messenger crows. I wrote a song about them, who knows how long ago. Maybe I'll root out the chords soon so you can find someone better than me to play it. I'd wake up before anyone else did each morning. Fundy would still be asleep, Tommy didn't wake up until 10am each morning. Did I ever tell you that? His sleep schedule is so shit. But I'd wake up, and I'd read your letter, and I'd tuck it away so I could properly reply later. I'm so sorry I stopped sending them. Why did I stop? Many reasons. Number one. Guilt. Reading your praise felt like ascending. Just knowing that you're proud of me and wishing me well was the only thing keeping me going some days. But it was false. Empty words for a story I wove with shaking hands. I lied. There, I said it. It started when we lost the election. Goodness, just the day before I told you I was so excited. That I was sure we'd win. You'd said you believed in me. So when Schlatt and Quackity bullshitted their way to a victory, I didn't know what to do. Truly, I didn't. How was I supposed to tell you our nation fell? My longest project, my unfinished symphony, was halted in its tracks by its downfall caused by my own arrogance. How was I supposed to tell you I fucked it all up? So I didn't. It's foolish, I know, but what else was I to do? I told you what you wanted to hear. Or, rather, what I wanted to hear. We won the election! Tubbo's the president! Pogtopia isn't some shack we made in a ravine, it's a country! Everything I wanted my feeble mind to believe. I cut the parts from history I didn't like, just like I stashed away the first Declaration of Independance. But hey if I keep writing it, its true. I'm not a bad person. Well, I am. But not for this. 'To err is to human.' That's a quote from something. I don't quite care what. Through the web of lies I created in my fingertips like a game of cat's cradle, you reached through and ruffled my hair and told me you were proud. I was dragging you further in, tangling you up until I suffocated you in happy little lies. And if I was slightly worse, if I was so self conceited I took the words in stride, I wouldn't be here writing this. But while they were genuine to you, they were fickle and fake to me. But still, you'll never know. Right? Well, anyways. Reason number two. Shame. I know, guilt and shame are near interchangeable, but there's a difference. Guilt is regret for one thing you did. Shame is feeling like it's all you are. I didn't want to live with the fact that I lied. I considered myself an honest man. Sure, I changed my name so nobody would associate my possible failures to your name, and fine, yes, I told everyone I fucked a fish. Holy crap, people still think I fucked a fish. I won't correct them. Anyways, my point is. I lie sometimes, but this was my first lie that didn't have a good excuse. What even was my excuse? My pride? Selfishness? Who cares. You won't when you find out. Cutting myself off, but that leads me to point number three. Fear. I hate admitting my own flaws. Telling people my flaws is like opening up my chest and letting someone feel around and pick at what hurts most. But I'll tell you this. I hate people being angry at me. Because it's not justified, right? Am I truly in the wrong? Well. I do keep getting off topic, forgive me. My point here is, when you find out I lied, what will you think? You'll be mad, I'm certain of it. Why wouldn't you be? I don't want to face that. Your yell is enough to scare the trees from their roots. I can't bear the feeling of knowing I was truly in the wrong. But for all my talking, for all my ink scratched on paper, I know

one thing. Even if you forgive me, which I do not expect you to, I will not forgive myself. Because what if I'd told you the truth? What if I told you I was in trouble, that it felt like the world was turning against me and the walls were closing in? Would you have come sooner? Maybe. Maybe you would have come and found me while we were still sitting in Pogtopia. Maybe you'd give me advice. Maybe I'd introduce you to everyone, give you a real chance to meet your grandson. Maybe you'd have hugged me and told me everything would be ok. Fuck me, man. I haven't been hugged in years. I'm almost starting to miss it, for all my hatred of touching people. I wouldn't say I'm touch starved. Am I lonely? No, I can't be. I refuse to say I am. I'm not lonely. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve to long for someone to be on my side, because my side isn't a side. It's a crumbling wasteland, and I'm standing in the centre as people flee to solid ground. But I won't move. I'm a stubborn fool, Phil, and once I've decided on something I'll nevet let it go. Well, someday I will. But not now. Did you know how many chains there are here? Every lamp is suspended from one. It's almost aggravating how they can just hang there, with no worries. Why would they have worries? They're fucking lamps. I envy them. They're hanging. Someday I'll go. I'll finally leave the SMP in one way or another, no matter what. But goodness, if I don't wish I could see you one more time. Even if you're angry, or disappointed, or harboring as much hatred for me as I do for myself. Just so I could say goodbye. Would I even say goodbye? Will I? Well, I suppose you can answer that. Because if you'll ever see this, I'll be long gone. I refuse to let you read this before I'm dead, gone, decomposed. Hey, when did I write my first letter? It was to mom, right? I was thirteen. Dear Kristin, I started. I was so formal. I didn't even call her mom. Maybe, thirteen years after I die, you'll find this. Maybe then you can read my regrets. Guilt, shame and fear, all piled onto one sheet of parchment. Well, you'll see it someday. I'm stashing this letter away in a chest in Pogtopia. Maybe you'll visit someday and find this. Maybe you won't. Maybe the rats will get to it before you ever do. Maybe the tear stains will dry by then. I'm going to miss you, dad. You and mom. I know I'm spiralling, but it isn't your fault. It never was. It was my own, for being such a selfish bastard. I wish I'd gone it alone. I wish I hadn't had Fundy. Not because I harbor hatred for him, but just because he didn't deserve this life. I wish Tommy and Tubbo hadn't followed me to the train station. They could've stayed home with their parents and had a normal kid life. I wish Eret had stayed home when I called him, asking him to join L'manburg. I wish I could still talk to him without wanting to shoot his stupid white eyes out. Because he was a good man, Phil. Maybe I was too. But I suppose that's what happens to good men. I end up wanting to kill them. I was a good man, Phil. Once upon a time. Anyways. I'm running out of ink. I could only snag so much from the white house. So I'll have to stop here. What's my final message? My last line in the symphony? Well... I'm sorry, Phil. For everything. I should've been a better son. Yours sincerely, Wilbur Minecraft.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

All That Is Or Was Or Will Be

CW: Character death (no main characters), murder, so much murder, just like a lot of murder, no animals harmed in the writing of this piece, emeto (brief), referenced physical abuse, blood, drugging, knives, mind control, noncon touching (nonsexual), a kind of pet whump, trauma response, creepy whumper, suicidal ideation (brief, of the “wish I had a way out of this” variety)

Killan Josta belongs to @wildfaewhump​‘s Iesin and Talvos universe, which Vic is graciously letting me use with their permission to just absolutely ruin Killan in every possible way.

Tagging Killan’s crew:  @astrobly​ @burtlederp​ ​, @finder-of-rings​ ​, @slaintetowhump​ ​, @quirkykayleetam​ ​, @whumpallday​ , @whumppsychology​, @doveotions​ (if you would like to be added to an OC’s tag list, please send your request via an ask! Those are easier for me to keep track of and I tend to lose requests in comments, reblogs, tags, or PMs!)

With every step, Killan tried to stop walking. 

He told himself to stand still, to drop the small bag he held in one hand, to cry out and warn them he was coming. The woods were dark around him, but he never tripped on anything. He never placed his feet wrong. He never stumbled, or struggled. He walked with a perfect, inhumanly smooth stride even as his heart pounded, lurching sickly inside his chest with dread.

He couldn’t stop.

He didn’t want to stop. Or he did, but the want was buried underneath a deeper push, the twining starsong that wrapped him up in Calon Nie's voice. 

Take this, you, in secret steps and quietness. Walk til you see, but do not wake. I show you what starsong can do.

Pl-please, no, don't make me do this-

His feet had already been moving.

Calon's teeth flashed in the dark with his smile. You want to see what starsong can do, my pretty human.

He didn’t want to know what starsong could do - and yet he was desperate for the knowledge, wasn’t he? If only to know what he was in for, how terrible it was going to be, what kinds of monster-magic the fae could really do. 

He didn’t want to know what would happen to Ren, to Tinch and Vanya and Pyllko… definitely did not want to see what Calon Nie would do to Beron, who had sometimes helped him pack up the camp in the mornings or patted him on the back, ruffled his hair and said, you worked hard today with a hint of pride in his voice as though Killan were his own son and not just a debt-slave…

He had liked Beron sometimes, as much as you could like a man who kicked you in the stomach for eating a second helping of porridge until you threw the first one up or took your food and threw it to dogs to make himself laugh. Killan had been kind of fond of him, worked hard for his approval, been glad that Beron always asked for Killan to sit watch with him at night.

Beron had been mean, could be mean - but he was the only one of them where Killan could mostly predict that violence, and so it was as close to safe as he had been since the day he'd been attacked in town and nearly drowned. He was the only one who’d put together a bit of hot broth or tea when Killan was sick.

Beron took care of him, in between hurting, and no one else did.

 What would starsong do to Beron?

He didn’t want to do this, but his feet would not stop moving.

The more he fought against the silvery web of compulsion wrapped around him, the louder the fae’s voice sang in the back of his mind. Eerie twin notes, harmonized with itself in a single voice, soaking into the deepest parts of him. Above him, Calon Nie moved through the branches in nearly-perfect silence, even his wings hidden in the dark canopy of trees.

Buachaill del… pretty boy, you are mo ragnaith, my chosen one. My human. I am all, all was or is or will be, for you. 

He did not want to be Calon Nie’s human, but he had no choice.

His mam used to tell a story about a wicked fae who sang away all the children in a village who had not listened to their mothers when it was time for bed, using her hands to make shadowed wings on the wall, while a tiny Killan had watched and listened, wide-eyed and rapt. The fae led the disobedient children right off a cliff just to hover in the air with its awful wings and watch their bodies dash to the rocks below.

You see, then, Killy, why it’s what you must do, to listen to your mam when she sends you to sleep? Otherwise the fae monsters will take you and tear out your throat.

It was just a story to scare children - until it wasn’t.

He would have been less terrified if Calon Nie had simply wanted to kill him and drink his blood and make things out of his bones, like his mam had said fae would. What was happening to him instead was much, much worse, because he was starting to understand that it wouldn’t end, that Calon Nie had some plan for him he wasn’t explaining. Some idea that had led him to want a human boy for his very own. There was some hidden reason he kept measuring Killan’s arms and fingers and legs, pressing on his sides to feel at the ribs beneath, not counting - just saying too much bones, and Killan was both desperate to know what that meant and praying to some dim concept of a forest god that he never, ever would learn.

He couldn’t stop walking, but one hand raised to feel over his neck as he went, the bandage wrapped around it felt too tight, constricting. Calon Nie was not gentle. It covered the sliced-up skin down one side, where Calon Nie had let blood drip down to dry and stain brownish on his collarbone, but it didn’t feel like a bandage.

It felt worse than that. 

Killan felt like a collared dog.

He felt like a pet that walked on its hind legs for the amusement of its keepers. Like the little dogs at the harvest festival who could balance balls on the tips of their noses as they ‘danced’, hind-legged, while the people clapped and cheered.

The bandages crinkled, the barest hint of noise in the dark woods. Above him, there was a soft hiss, and Killan’s hand fell back to his side. 

Quietness, buachaill del. He didn’t have to hear the words spoken to hear the order. Not any longer.

He could see the camp ahead of him, the fire banked low to embers, the men stretched out in their bedrolls to sleep under the stars. The horses breathing in soft snorts, ears back, heads turned in his direction. They saw him, but they knew Killan - he fed them, sliding the heavy bags up over their noses so they could munch where they stood, even deep in the woods with no real grass to graze on. They weren’t scared of him like they would have been of Calon Nie, and so they made no sound at his approach beyond the softest whicker. 

Beron and Tinch were on watch, sitting up with their backs to him for the moment, and Killan opened his mouth to warn them, to say, please, he’s going to kill you-

“Sleep,” The fae in the branches above him commanded. Killan’s knees buckled and he crashed to the ground as the world spun to sudden exhausted wooziness around him. 

The last thing he heard was the sound of Beron and Tinch falling forward, too, the soft thuds of their bodies falling into the dirt.

Then, darkness.

He woke to the whisper of Calon Nie’s talons across his back, ghosting over shoulder blades long-scarred by Ren’s punishments for past transgressions. He tensed at the touch of those clawed fingertips, but they didn’t quite cut his skin. Instead, it felt more like Calon Nie played his spine as an instrument. “Wake, only you.” Calon Nie spoke almost gently, almost lovingly. “But be still. Time for the first.”

“The… the first what?” Killan asked, blinking, pushing slowly up onto his elbows with his hips and legs still splayed on the ground. The little bag he had been forced to carry all the way here lay on its side, still tied tightly closed.

He looked around to see the bandits he had lived with were now all asleep - three in their bedrolls, and Beron and Tinch simply slumped on the ground, too deeply unconscious for dignity. Everyone’s breath came deep and even, low snores settling in the air around them. “I thought-...” His own voice was slurred, struggling to come all the way awake even with the command. “I thought you were going to kill-... to kill them.”

“No kill, me,” Calon said easily. “Now. Hold still. Silence, Killan.” 

He only said Killan’s real name when whatever he was about to do was going to hurt. Sure enough, when Killan had frozen on the ground like a boy made of stone, Calon’s taloned fingers slipped, for the first time, into his skin.

Killan had begun to hate his name. At least buachaill del, mo ragnaith, pretty boy, my human - at least those names didn’t come with the promise of pain.

He tried to cry out with the sudden burning pain, but no sound came. Compelled to silence, Killan could do nothing but dig his fingers into the loose earth, mouth open in a scream he could not voice, his vocal chords locked tight with starsong wrapped around them. He felt the talon trail through like his mam heating a knife and slicing butter, his skin falling away almost eagerly to either side, leaping to do the fae’s will.

Only when he could feel the blood running did Calon Nie pull back his hand, his head cocking to the side as he held the talons up in front of his own face, slit-pupiled yellow eyes locked on the deep red, colored nearly black in the dark night, running warm and then cool down the palm of his monstrous hand.

“Pretty,” He whispered. “So red, with iron. Dead star, you. But I can give life.”

Killan breathed in gasps against the pain, tears running hot down his face, dripping saltwater to a forest floor that maybe had never seen water and salt mixed before. He couldn’t speak to ask what the fae meant, and he didn’t wan to. He didn’t want to know what life meant to a fae that thought Killan, with his beating heart and red blood, was dead.

“Is time, now,” Calon Nie said after contemplating Killan’s blood a moment longer. “Stand, you. Keep silent.”

Killan’s arms moved, palms pressed to earth, shifting onto his hands and knees even as his back screamed and he wept silent tears into the earth beneath him, blood trickling in a garish tickle down his sides and then soaking into the waistband of his pants, until he stood, swaying. He could be forced to silence but the rictus-scream was stuck on his face, the only expression of his pain he was allowed beyond his labored breathing.

“Good. Now, is time, is time, is time for celebration.” Calon Nie sing-song sang the words more than spoke them in his hissing, sibilant accent. He reached his own hand behind his back and then pulled from the waistband of his own pans an intricately carved dagger made of no metal that Killan had ever known. He was used to Ren’s weapons, all good solid strong iron, poison to the fae and a good defense when you hunted as close to the mountains as Ren did.

This, though, shimmered in the darkness like silver, was carved with the peaks of mountains clear along each side of the blade. Crafted with a sharply angled serration, it looked like something you couldn’t possibly need for hunting.

Calon Nie held the knife out to Killan. “Take,” He commanded, and Killan’s hand moved without him even as his heart dropped, went cold, turned to a block of ice in his stomach. The pain in his back was forgotten, simply overrun by the horrified understanding.

He tried to move his mouth, but the compulsion to silence still held, and he couldn’t do anything more than that.

Calon raised his eyebrows slowly, curious and amused. The moonlight caught his eyes as his chin raised to look Killan in the eyes, turning yellow eyes briefly to a cloudy opalescence, and he seemed somehow more a product of a story meant to scare children than ever. “No questions, you. Time for questions gone.” He drew his hand through the air, a quick sharp dismissal, and Killan felt his stomach twist as some of his own blood flew off Calon’s taloned fingertips and landed on Ren’s face where he lay in his bedroll.

Wake up, Killan begged him, mouth moving, silent. Wake up. Fight him with iron. Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up-

Ren shifted, mumbling to himself in a slurred voice, and wiped at the blood on his cheek.

Then he settled back to unconsciousness again.

Calon Nie swayed lightly back and forth, as if to a rhythm only he could hear, eyes half-closed as his head tilted back and forth with his movements, long black hair that turned nearly white by the ends moving, his wings slightly - deeply auburn reddish-brown on the outside and a layered, striped black-and-white on the inside - spread in the small clearing for balance. He smiled, head tilted up to the moon, to the stars, visible in the perfectly clear night sky.

Without looking away from a constellation just next to the moon - Killan had always known it, three stars in a line and two more above, as the Rider - Calon Nie pointed to Ren, and said, “Slit his throat, Killan. Stop only when no living.”

Killan’s body moved without him to obey the starsong command.

His hands moved steady and sure, one to grip Ren by the hair and yank until his head was forced back, the other to draw the serrated blade across the man’s throat, digging in deep, blood bursting as though a dam had broken, a waterfall of a man’s life soaking into his bedroll, snuffled half-breaths that could no longer be drawn.

Killan’s hand didn’t loosen the grip on Ren’s hair - on the man who had saved him when the robbers threw him in the river, who had owned his life and hurt him and written all the scars on him that weren’t Calon Nie’s - until the man was dead.

Right to death, the fae’s magic held Ren in a deep slumber. 

He never woke, before he was gone.

Killan wept for him, his heart burning, and waited for what he knew came next when he let Ren’s head drop onto his bedroll, never to wake again.

“Good,” Calon Nie praised, eyes fluttering half-closed. “Now.” He pointed at Pyllko. “Slit his throat.”

Killan moved to the next bedroll, grabbed Pyllko by his curly hair - he was vain of it, Pyllko, found new women in every town they stopped in, had babies scattered through the land, or so he said - and killed him, too. His hand was dripping red with blood. Pyllko liked to say awful things about the women he saw, but he was like a spoiled selfish boy, younger even than Killan in mind if not in body. 

A nobleman’s son, so he swore, who had been banished for something to do with a higher noble’s eldest daughter. 

Ren saved me, too, Pyllko had said to him once. I could have died. You should be grateful that he’s got such a big heart for you.

Then Vanya.

Killan forced Calon Nie to give the command for each one, refused to move of his own volition. His eyes were too blurry to see with the tears and he knew his hand was struggling, he was getting Pyllko’s blood in Vanya’s hair, his grip on the blade now slick with red, struggling to hold it tightly enough for the killing stroke.

Vanya, who was cruel and cruel and cruel again, for his own amusement.

Killan still had never wanted him to die. 

He killed him anyway.

Now, Tinch.

Tinch, who had ignored him mostly as a child but had started to stare at him as an adult, get too close, look too long. Who joked about sneaking to the river to see what it was about bathing naked there that Killan loved so much. 

Tinch, who had a habit of grabbing at Killan’s arms or chin or hair whenever he wanted. This throat, Killan slit with hardly a lick of grief at all. I know what you would have done to me, soon enough, Killan thought, as the man bled to death on his side, his hand lying outstretched. If they were ever found, it might even look like Tinch had reached for his weapon.

He hadn’t.

He would look like he’d had a chance to be brave, when he wasn’t, and he hadn’t had any such thing. But there was a comfort in the idea that someone might find their bones, one day, and think that someone had tried to fight the fae.

Finally… Beron.

Killan stalled, now, fought the starsong as hard as he could, its tendrils wrapping so tightly around him that they felt like new fire licking blue across his skin. He turned to look at Calon Nie, still swaying to the song only he could hear. No, he whispered, still unable to speak. 

Calon seemed to hear it, anyway. He opened his eyes and looked at Killan, smiling to show his sharp teeth. “Say no, you?”

Not Beron.

For the first time since the fae had taken him, something dark and ugly passed across his features. Killan had never seen it before, not in relation to him, anyway, but he could read it easily nonetheless.

Calon Nie was jealous.

“Slit. Throat. Now.”

The command was spat instead of sung, but Killan’s hands began to move, and he hitched in a breath, a half-whispered, half-silent sob, his tears falling right onto Beron’s peaceful sleeping face. 

Beron would toss his food just to watch him cry over is loss, would smack him around when he took too long at a chore, but he would also tell Killan stories like his mam used to, and volunteer to take him into the shops when they visited towns. 

Killan grabbed the hair of the only one of them that had ever offered him an ounce of kindness and he murdered him, too, crying over him as he watched Beron, peaceful to the bitter end, take his very last breath. Then he slumped down to his knees and leaned over him, gripping fingers into the fabric of his shirt like a child clinging to its mother after a nightmare, and cried at the loss of what he hadn’t even known was a better life than what he was now living.

Somehow, Calon Nie did not stop him from grieving. He cried, holding Beron with one hand and the blood-slicked blade with the other, into the man’s slowly cooling body.

He wept for them, and for himself.

Then he straightened his back - singing pain up the tiny cuts Calon Nie had made, but he didn’t care any longer, none of it meant anything and maybe if he was lucky Calon Nie would let him bleed to death here with the closest thing he had left to a family - and threw the silver-colored knife as far as he could into the dark woods.

He heard it land, a rustle in underbrush, and that was all. Whoever found the bodies - maybe they’d find the murder weapon, too.

I killed them. I killed them. I killed them. The word rang round and round inside Killan’s mind, and this time when his stomach twisted he let it lead him, curling himself over on the ground and losing the contents of his stomach across the beaten-down grass and earth. He retched and heaved until his stomach and his back hurt in equal measures, until nothing was left but sour spit and bile on his tongue, until… until nothing was left but his guilt.

Thrall, murderer, fae-led slave boy, you did this you did this you did this you did this-

Ren’s flask dropped to the ground next to his knees and he slowly looked up to see Calon Nie staring down at him, head tilted so far to the side it seemed an impossible angle, evidence of the fluidity, the flexibility of fae bones. “You drink,” Calon Nie said, pointing with his talon. It wasn’t a command, but Killan grabbed the flask up anyway, sucking down the burning liquor inside, letting it wash the taste from his mouth.

But it couldn’t wipe the blood, thick in the air, thick on his hands, thick on his soul.

“Now is me only,” Calon Nie said, firmly. “Only me, you for. I am start and finish and all things. All that was or is or will be. These, gone. Paugh. No need. You may speak.”

“You said-... before, you said you would only make me put the sleeping drug in their water!”

Yellow eyes met his above Calon Nie’s patient, loving smile. “Calon Nie lies.”

“But, you... you have cl-claws, y-... you... y-you could have k-k-killed them y-y-yourself-” He started crying again, now that he could cry openly he let his voice wail, bouncing off the trees and back at him like a physical blow. He let sobs turn to wails and wails becomes screams and he prayed and prayed and prayed someone, somewhere, could hear him.

“I not kill these.” Calon Nie shook his head, and when he held out his hand, Killan could do nothing but take it and let the fae help him, shaking legs and all, to his feet. “Yours to kill. Kill pretty human’s family, I am family now. Done. Those, though…” Calon Nie’s eyes went to the horses, who were pulling on the ties that bound them near trees, ears back, herd animals wanting to run from the smell of blood and the teeth of the predator that stood openly before them. “Those I kill-”

“No. Please.” Killan put a hand on Calon Nie’s arm, smearing it with blood. “Please, Calon Nie, please, n-not the horses, please.”

Why did it matter if he killed them? Killan couldn’t have said. But in that moment, where he felt a mix of guilt and grief shredding him apart, it mattered more than anything that Calon might give him just one hint of mercy.

Calon Nie looked back at him, surprised, and then to the horses again. He sighed, smiling - affectionate and indulgent, as though Killan were a child who had asked for an extra sweet at market. “Más mian leat, buachaill del. Find other food, me.”

Killan nodded, whispering his sincere thanks, hating himself for the depraved gratitude he felt. He grabbed Beron’s sword from his bedroll - it had been all ready for his watch to end but he had never had a chance to use it - and moved to the horses, cutting them free from the tree they’d been tied to, watching them as they fled.

Wishing he could flee, too.

His eyes drifted down to the leather-wrapped hilt of the iron sword in his hand just in time to hear Calon Nie to say, sharply, “Drop sword, you.”

Iron thumped to the earth, useless. 

Just like Killan, to everyone but the fae who held him in thrall.

When he turned, Calon Nie was right there, had moved with perfect silence and speed to stand just behind him, and Killan didn’t have to be commanded to hold still under the look in those yellow eyes. The camp smells - fire and smoke and the horses, whatever they’d had for dinner maybe - were overlaid with the thick copper-salt-sweet scent of blood.

Killan would never stop smelling that blood, he thought, no matter how long Calon Nie allowed him to live.

“Mine now,” Calon Nie whispered. “Truly mine, you.” He lifted his hand and Killan shuddered, shivering like a spooked animal as a blood-tipped talon drew lightly over his bandaged throat, not quite cutting the cloth strips, not cutting his skin. The fae moved around him, chin tilted up slightly to look, focused with unsettling intensity as he moved in a slow circle around Killan, tracing a perfect circle around his throat.

The message was clear.

Killan was a collared dog - to be fussed over to set to kill, whichever his master commanded. To the fae, humans were nothing but livestock that could speak, weren’t they? Killan was nothing but a bit of skin with a puzzling habit of having opinions.

“Don’t-” His voice caught, and Calon Nie’s talon came to a stop, just beneath his ear, pressed lightly against his pulse. A trickle of blood ran down to soak into the bandages. “Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t make me kill anyone else.”

“Not worry,” Calon Nie whispered, opening his hand to rest the palm of it against the back of Killan’s neck, bloody taloned twisting and playing with his hair until he thought he might throw up all over again, even though he had nothing left. “Not you, next time.”

Killan’s eyes closed, trying to hide the tears that escaped anyway, the new wash of fear. “N-next ti-... ti-time?” He managed, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get out the words.

Calon Nie went up on his toes, his breath hot against Killan’s ear. “Next time, I kill, for you.”

“I-I don’t n-n-need anyone to, to die for me,” Killan protested, in a hitching half-sobbed whimper. How did he have so many tears in him? It felt like he would never stop crying. 

He tried to open his eyes, only to see the men he had murdered with his own hands, and had to close them again. When he broke out in sobs this time, Calon Nie bundled him close, held him in a tight grip with those heavily muscled arms, and petted through his hair with his bloody talons.

Where a bit of Killan’s blood touched his skin, Calon Nie hissed against a faint burn.

“Calm, calm, calm,” Calon Nie sing-songed, soothing and soft. “Calm, calm, my pretty. Did well for your Calon Nie, yes? Did well for me?”

He was a murderer. He had blood on his hands. He had taken men’s lives while they slept, like a coward, like a monster, like a thrall.

“Pretty boy, answer me,” Calon Nie said.

I am the children the fae threw off the cliff, but you won’t let me go far enough to escape you, not even if I died.

Killan hitched in breath, tried to find his voice where it had fled this time, deep within his chest where he knew their lives would stay wrapped up in him, wreckage and ruin, his own fault for being alone in the woods near the mountains. “Yes,” He said, miserable. “Yes. I d-did what you-... what you, gods, what you s-s-said-”

“Good. Good human.” Calon Nie hummed, nuzzling his nose against the side of Killan’s face, sharp teeth entirely too close to the veins in his neck. Killan kept his eyes closed, ground his teeth together, and hoped - for one long drawn-out moment - that Calon Nie would kill him, too, so he wouldn’t have to live like this.

After a long silence, Calon Nie pulled away from him, taking his scent of something metallic and wild with him, and Killan felt the pain in his back all at once, as though the adrenaline and guilt had dampened what he could feel. 

Calon Nie smiled at the way Killan whined at the pain.

“Get used to,” He advised. “Back must hurt, for now, all time.”

“What? Wh-why?” Killan looked at the fae, whose eyes had gone back to the stars above their heads, basking in the faint silvery light, in the song he swore he could hear but Killan heard nothing but the beat of his own heart.

Even the birds were silent in the trees.

Even the forest knew when monsters walked.

Calon Nie did not open his eyes when he said, in a voice of perfect bliss, “To ready you for wings, mo ragnaith.”

[akitokihojo]

Chasing the Seasons - Cruel Summer’s Epilogue

And there you have it, folks. I have literally no self control. :)

Have an epilogue almost half the length of the original story. Thanks for reading!

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It was hard. It was impossible not to think of each other throughout the entirety of every single, passing day.

Maybe it was a blessing, but within the week of returning from their trip, Kagome was thrown right back into the swing of things. She had to scramble to buy the two books she still needed - one she got lucky with, the other she had to purchase from an overpriced seller on eBay, get any other necessary items for the term ahead, make sure all registration was properly done, and get herself re-acclimated to a generally normal sleeping schedule. She stayed busy. Busy enough not to constantly wonder how Inuyasha was fairing. But, unfortunately, that never prevented her from incessantly checking her phone.

The habit came on quickly and was difficult to kill off. In her spare moments to breathe came her opportunities to light up the notifications page. Even in class, jotting down notes, listening to the professor drone on and on, Kagome just couldn’t stop herself from tapping her phone’s screen to see if she’d missed anything while her cellphone sat directly next to her notebook. There was nothing to expect, she was aware of this. She was forewarned of their unaligned schedules. She was aware they weren’t in a relationship. This was what they’d tried to prevent; the thick feeling of unintentional dejection that clung to the insides of their chests like tar.

Was it ironic that Kagome was still knocked down to her ass? No. She wasn’t sure irony was the right definition of this. The truth was, unknowingly so, she and Inuyasha had contradicted themselves from the start. It was all innocent in the moment, wanting to soak up every minute with your soulmate until you couldn’t anymore. Trying to make the best of a given situation. It made sense then. Hell, she even knew this was going to hurt when they had to part, but no one could have ever prepared her for the aftermath.

See, it wasn’t a relationship the two should have planned to avoid, even if it was for the sake of ease. The moment they connected with each other, they were set in stone. That’s not your typical, monogamous relationship. What Sango and Miroku had, what they’d worked to build - that was a relationship. They chose each other. But, fate chose Inuyasha for Kagome. That red string tied their souls together, one half fulfilling the other, so what they had was an irrevocable, irreversible, and irreplaceable bond. They had a companion. A partner. Yes, all synonym’s for a “relationship,” but vastly different in context. A relationship you could turn off. You could end it. You could do so by bitterly cutting ties, or mutually understanding things weren’t working. You couldn’t do that with a soulmate, though. Having a soulmate is the universe’s way of saying, “Hey, I made this person for you. They’re pretty and nice. You’ll like them, I promise. You’ll like them so much, you’ll literally never feel whole without them once you meet. It’s not a flaw in the design, trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

In other words, the distress they wanted so badly to avoid, the obligation they felt toward one another, it was all entirely inevitable. What they, instead, should have done was prepared their minds and bodies to have to adjust to the emptiness. Because, eventually it would dull. Eventually, it did dull. The ride to that point, though, was nothing short of crippling.

He wished he’d known exactly what to say when he’d discovered who she was, what she was bound to mean to him. He wished he’d understood the conflict in his argument and how he was so wrong. A part of him even wished they’d never met. Not yet, at least. Much like how he’d originally hoped she hadn’t dreamt of him so he could carry the burden alone and find her in the future. He was insane. Absolutely, confoundingly mental. Since when had he developed a glass heart? The moment he heard her laugh, saw her in that dress, spoke to her, felt the powerful pull toward her. That’s when. He’d say it was the moment they kissed, because logically, that was the exact moment it happened, but he had to be real with himself. If he’d turned away and ignored her presence from the start, there was still a part of him, a significantly smaller part but a part nonetheless, that would have felt lost. Lost was still better than broken, though.

Inuyasha had decided after the second week that he was going to pull away. In the moment, he understood the rationality behind it. It was to deaden the senses toward one another. It would make it easier in the long run. They’d grow used to the other hardly being there, they’d go about their lives, they’d get excited when one of them popped up on the other’s phone for a quick and friendly check in because it was so rare, then go about their business. Wash, rinse, repeat until the day they could properly reunite. It had to happen. He was miserable, and even though she wasn’t saying anything, he knew she was, too. That was after two weeks. Fourteen days without the other. He kept checking his phone, he was physically fighting the urge to call her, he was forcefully throwing himself into his work so he wouldn’t continuously consider dropping it all to run off with her before it was too late. So, it only made sense to cut the chord. This wouldn’t work if he didn’t. This would only drive them crazy and encourage the ache that lived in their chests to rampantly deepen as if it owned them.

Oh, was he so fucking wrong.

Everything worsened. So bad, he felt sick sometimes. He’d wake up at three in the morning with the heaviest sadness climbing the walls of his stomach and threatening to make him vomit. His lungs sometimes acted as if they couldn’t hold a full inhale of air anymore, and his exhales were shallow and dry. He was angry. Always angry. He had a short temper to begin with, but even he would catch himself on occasion and realize he needed to chill. His work was being affected negatively, his appetite was shot, sleep gradually became a thing of the past, and as the main turmoil seemed to dwindle after a while and he felt dull, listless, he became known as “cold” around his immediate peers. He detested himself. He could see it clearly, but it was so difficult to correct his demeanor when he didn’t have much ambition to do self work on top of his professional labor. He was becoming Sesshomaru. 

He’d sunken. Deeper than his bitterness. He’d sunken so far, it was laughable. The answer was right in front of his face. Clear as day. This was his doing. He was the cause of his own misery. Why would he ever think creating a larger distance from her was a good idea? She wasn’t your average girl he had a nice conversation with and would eventually like to see again. She was a being literally born for his sake. And, he was born for hers.

Two months and four agonizing days later, and Inuyasha had finally come to his senses. He couldn’t continue this. He just couldn’t. What he’d done was essentially attempt to withdraw his soul from the match until it was suitable for him. He’d attempted to go against fate, and fate was giving him the hell he deserved. He could only hope Kagome didn’t feel the weight of his idiotic mistake, too. It was bad enough picturing her feeling alone in this, because it’s not like he was acting as much support, but imagining her crushed with withdrawal pain as well was just something he couldn’t live with.

Inuyasha could have texted. He could have called. He sat staring at his phone for hours, a murky liquid sloshing in his chest as if a clogged drain kept the remnants of this toxicity from leaving his body. Text messaging wouldn’t suffice. It would do nothing for him at this point. A phone call would be better; he’d at least be able to hear her voice. Still, it wasn’t good enough. The only thing that would be was seeing her beautiful features with his own eyes. He felt so horrible. Awful. He thought life’s plan would be his enemy, but truthfully, it was him. He was his enemy. This was his fault. And, if she didn’t answer, he deserved nothing less.

Kagome gently tapped her finger against a key on her keyboard, not quite pressing into it, just hitting her nail against the plastic square for the sound as she sorted out her thought process before typing out the next sentence of her report. Her laptop screen was split in two; one side her Word document, about eight hundred words into a three thousand word minimum assignment, and the other side her internet browser with multiple tabs open to fully cover the topic. Add to that with her iTunes playlist minimized in the corner and running through, and the open notebook at her side with her scribbled notes from her previous lectures in this class, and she was completely in the zone. So much so, that when her Mac started chiming with an incoming FaceTime call, her phone coming alive with the same, loud notification - that was really just overkill - Kagome jolted with a startled gasp. 

Then her heart sunk into her abdomen. Both pleasantly and disturbingly. This was her first time hearing from Inuyasha in weeks, and her first time seeing him since she left for home. 

Quickly, Kagome pulled her hair out of its messy bun, scrunching her unruly waves and running her fingers through her self-cut bangs. She could only hope her face was looking okay at the moment, because she really didn’t have much more time to make herself look presentable before she missed the call entirely. As she paused her music and answered, she held her breath, waiting for the connection to set. Inuyasha’s face appeared on her laptop screen, his mouth covered by the sides of his curled fingers that he’d comfortably rested against, but she could clearly see the corner of his lips curve and his cheeks slightly push up when he smiled at seeing her. And, she sighed out happily.

He was in a dimly-lit room, his chest bare and birthmark visible at the very bottom of the camera. His silver hair was hued with the temperature of the rosy lighting, one of the ears atop his head giving a tiny flick at the sound of her joyful giggle. God, she’d missed him.

“There you are.” He softly rumbled, amber eyes gazing at her with adoration, and he dropped his hand, his expression reading one of subtle relief.

“Hi.” Kagome whispered, too elated to speak clearly. “How are you?”

Inuyasha held up a finger with a soft hum to quiet her. “Give me a minute. Stand up.”

Wordlessly, Kagome scrunched her nose bemusedly, her smile hardly faltering.

“I need to make sure you’re in one piece. Stand up.” The hanyou said clearly, raising his brows expectingly.

She replied with a gentle laugh, rolling her desk chair back and standing up for him.

He took as much of her in as he could, as much as the camera allowed. Her long, black hair, her gorgeous face, her neck, her shoulders that were donned in a green, flannel shirt that was a little too large for her and hung to about mid-thigh, the black tank top underneath, the short pajama bottoms that hardly covered much but looked comfortable as all hell, the thighs he loved so goddamn much. She was there. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be able to physically feel her right now, to hold her.

When Kagome felt like he’d had enough, she sat back in her chair, pulling herself up close to her desk. “Good?”

“Good enough,” He said. “What are you doing? Are you busy?”

“No.” She fervently shook her head.

“Are you on your laptop or phone?”

“Laptop.”

“You’re doing homework, aren’t you?” Inuyasha chuckled, leaning his head to the side with a cock of his brow.

“Yes, but it’s not due until Friday. Don’t worry.” She quickly assured, not wanting him to think he was interrupting anything important. Of the classes she was currently registered in, this one ranked low in the difficulty aspect. The assignments were just tedious. Truthfully, even if it was important, she’d gladly push it aside for him.

He wasn’t going to try and argue against that. If she could talk, he was going to take it. This wasn’t the moment to be cautious, this was the moment to try and heal. “What time is it there?”

“A little passed eight. What about you? Are you in Europe?”

“Yeah. In London. It’s, uh, a little passed four here.”

“In the morning!?” Kagome pressed, inching slightly closer to her screen in exasperation.

He laughed, lazily running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”

“What time do you have to work?”

“Gotta be there by seven. Don’t waste your breath telling me to go to sleep, I’m not hanging up until I’m good and ready.” Inuyasha stated, leveling Kagome with a stare that brought her to close her mouth. He could tell by the way her brown eyes fluttered downward, by the way she lightly pinched her lips together, by the way she glanced back up to him that she was silently grateful for his refusal. It was warming, but it increased the guilt he felt, and he couldn’t prevent the way it wavered his expression.

She’d caught it. Immediately, she’d noticed. “What’s wrong?” Her tone was soft, concerned.

“Nothing.” He dismissed. “How are you doing?”

“Inuyasha, what’s -“

“How are you doing?” He’d asked it in a way that told her he wasn’t looking for the broad aspect of her life in general. He was looking for how she was handling their separation, the ember in his eyes not quite glowing to their full potential, and she knew it wasn’t just the camera’s inability to capture their radiance. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to answer the way he wanted. If she thought about it, it hurt too bad. She didn’t want him to know that; she didn’t want him to try and shoulder the burden for himself.

“Well,” Kagome began with her tale. “I’ve been pretty busy with school. My internship doesn’t start until January, though, so I’m trying to appreciate the little downtime that I have right now. And, my classes this term aren’t so bad, they’re -“

“How are you doing?” Inuyasha inquired again, the words enunciated slowly, his tone progressively deepening with care.

“Busy.” She answered steadily. “Staying busy.”

He knew she was intentionally avoiding a direct answer. That bad, huh? 

“Tell me, Kagome.”

She swallowed thickly, a yank on her chest reminding her that she wasn’t all that okay. She missed him so much. So fucking much. How could she tell him that it hurt not talking to him? How could she apply that pressure on top of everything else he had going on right now? She just couldn’t. They knew this was coming, they knew they wouldn’t be totally available for each other, you just never know how bad it will feel until you’re experiencing it. She wasn’t allowed to expect anything from him, and she understood that, but being apart and not knowing when the gap will end created an emptiness that was indescribably difficult to manage.

The longer she let his question sit, though, the harder it became to keep her expression straight. She felt it before she could stop it, the crinkle of her brow and the frown on her lips, then her eyes began to burn with brimming tears and she swiftly leaned out of the frame of the FaceTime window.

He took a small opportunity to curse himself while she wasn’t looking, while she was busy guarding her tears from him; something she should never feel she had to do. “Come back.”

She hummed a no.

“Right now.” He ordered gently, his voice gruff.

“Don’t worry. I’m good.” Kagome laughed, seemingly at herself, the sound wet. The arm still in view moved as she sloppily wiped her face, still laughing, and when she sniffled, it even brought him to chuckle lightly as he rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Babe -“

“See.” She came back into the frame with a smile, her face red but cleared of tears. “I’m fine.”

Inuyasha bit his lip, his chuckle that time more on the dubious side. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” She asked, her smile fading.

“Because, you’re not fine and this is because of me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Shut up,” He shook his head to quiet her. “Just listen, okay? I really fucked up. I thought it would be best if I backed off so getting over the hump of this would be easier. I didn’t know where that would leave us, but I, for some stupid fucking reason, had convinced myself that it was necessary.”

“Did it help you? Feel better, at least?” Inuyasha could see the compassion in her eyes, in the way she worried her bottom lip, in the genuine tone she held.

“Not one bit. I’ve never felt worse, actually. I can’t do it. I can’t stay away from you.”

“Inuyasha, you have your career. It’s not wrong of you to try and detach from a stressful situation, because unfortunately, that’s what this is. There’s no way around that.” She stated directly.

“Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“Stop trying to blame yourself.”

“Stop trying to justify my actions for me, Kagome.”

“Stop trying to act like your actions were malicious. Unless they were?”

“No, of course -“

“Then, shut up.”

He blinked, surprised at the growing heat in her tone.

“It’s not that I’m trying to justify what you did, I just understand why you did it. I can’t be upset at you for that. In retrospect, it’s really not all that bad. You didn’t make a promise to me -“

“I made multiple.” Inuyasha argued, cutting her off. “I told you we’d still talk, I told you we’d still see each other.”

Kagome huffed, her exasperation rising. “I really, really don’t understand what you’re getting at here, Inuyasha. Why are you so upset with yourself when we left each other knowing this was going to suck? I certainly didn’t know what the right thing to do for us was. I still don’t! We have conflicting schedules and lives right now, and from the moment we found out we were soulmates, you warned me that this thing between us wasn’t going to immediately work out. So, why are you suddenly villainizing yourself? It’s like you want me to be mad at you!”

Inuyasha leaned his chin into his palm, his mouth covered by his fingers as his golden eyes drifted to stare at the surface his phone was placed upon. His heavy sigh was emphasized, but Kagome remained quiet, waiting him out, letting him gather his thoughts. When he was ready, her soulmate lowered his hand, but he never looked back at her, his expression almost communicating shame.

“I could have been doing more. That’s just it. I could have been doing more. I avoided more thinking it would help, and I avoided the bare minimum thinking it was right for the long run. I can’t stand the thought that your sadness is worse than what it has to be because of the route I took. So, yeah.” Inuyasha met her gaze. “Maybe you being mad at me is what I want, because I can fix that. Ultimately, I feel like I need to fix something. But, on top of that, I feel so fucking helpless and stuck, and like anything I choose to do is wrong.”

Kagome had figured out pretty early on that Inuyasha wasn’t the type to openly show his feelings. He was smooth, he was passionate, but he was subtle with his messages. And, early on, she realized she was the lucky one that got to experience this side of him. Especially now, she could see his guard lowering so she could fully understand what was going on in his head; something she felt, if she wasn’t his soulmate, she’d have to work very hard to see after a significant amount of time and a significant amount of trust was built. Inuyasha was, by nature, protective. And, she could tell he was hard on himself. So, when he feels like he failed to protect her from harm in any way, shape, or form, he’s going to jump to take the heat for it. When the blame is on him, he can compensate to rectify the situation, tend to your wounds, step up and do better, but that’s just not logical. If he continued to do that, he’d eventually run himself dry. Kagome understood what he was getting at with his decision, and yes, it hurt to a degree, but she still didn’t see him as a bad guy. It wasn’t his responsibility to make sure everything was okay. In fact, he had good intentions. 

“How can I help you right now? Tell me what you need to hear.” Kagome said evenly.

Inuyasha pondered for a moment, eyes flickering away and meeting hers again when he spoke. “Tell me the truth about how you’re doing. Don’t duck out of view. Be straight with me.”

She could already feel her eyes prickling with fresh tears, her face heating uncomfortably as she honed in on the emotions she’d swallowed over and over and over and over throughout the months. “I’m sad.” Her voice trembled, but she took in a deep breath to give him what he needed. “I’m really sad. I feel helpless, I feel stupid, I feel tired. I’m lonely.” She finally began to cry, and it took active effort not to hide it from him, terrified he’d feel responsible. “I miss you. And, I’m angry. I’m angry that we have to go through this in the first place, and all I want to do is call you so I can listen to you talk - and I don’t even care what the topic is or if you’re not even talking to me, but someone else - I just want to hear your voice. I don’t like that you’re upset, and I want to take it away from you just as much as you want to take it away from me, and not being able to is frustrating. But, if you expect me to blame you for any of this, that’s where you’ll succeed in making me mad at you. I know for a fact you would never intentionally do anything to hurt me, and you can’t get me to picture you in that light. Do I like that you stepped back? No. Of course, not. But, honestly, I didn’t even know it was an option to have more of you, so no harm - no foul. You tried, it didn’t work, and now you’re here. So, now what? Where do you want to go from here? What’s our next step?”

Inuyasha had been holding his breath, clenching his jaw shut as he digested Kagome’s powerful sincerity. At least twice during her admittance he’d considered buying the first available plane ticket to her, even if that meant he could only be there for an hour. He spoke on a whim, uncaring of the irrationality behind it if that’s how it appeared. He wasn’t going to listen to her pain and do nothing about it when, now, to him, the answer was obvious.

“We ditch our original idea that things won’t work until we’re done with our shit. When I said that, we’d just had our first night together. It didn’t sound sane then to jump into anything when we were confused, new to each other, and freaked the fuck out. Even as you left, it made sense to hold onto the idea to wait, but it’s just not working. The pull on our souls to be together is too strong.”

Kagome hastily wiped her face using the sleeves of her shirt, sniffling in an attempt to clear her emotions. “Inuyasha, we can’t drop what we’ve worked for. Especially you. I won’t let you.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying we manage a long distance relationship. I’m going fucking crazy over here, Kagome. Fuck the boundaries, fuck the time difference, fuck anything that works against us. Why are we putting ourselves through this? God, it doesn’t fucking make sense! This is so stupid! If you want to call me, call me! I’m yours! If you’re lonely, let me keep you company the best way that I can! If I want to see that gorgeous smile of yours, I’m fucking going to! I’ll learn your schedule, and I’ll work through mine for you. I will never be too busy to tell you that I love you, it’s as simple as that. We’ll make this as easy as possible, I don’t want it overwhelming you with classes -“

“No, screw easy.” Kagome objected with a brusque shake of her head. “I don’t want easy, I want you.”

“So, yes?” Inuyasha breathed, and it was evident it held the release of a substantial amount of tension he’d been harboring with for far too long now.

“Yes.” Kagome laughed with relief, her shoulders dropping. “Did you think I’d actually say no?”

“I don’t know. It’d be pretty stupid of you if you did.” He joked, chuckling. Fuck, the sound of her giggle was like the most wonderful song he’d ever heard. “God, I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Soon.” She whispered.

“Not soon enough.”

“Does this mean nothing has to hold us back from each other now? I can send you messages without worrying about bothering you, and -“

“Hey, woah, wait.” Inuyasha’s brows furrowed, a frown marring his face as he cocked his head to the side in question. “I told you not to hesitate before. You’d never bother me.”

“I know, but it was still kind of confusing. I just wanted to tread carefully. Especially since I wasn’t hearing from you, so sending you texts or pictures just didn’t seem appropriate.”

The hanyou dropped his head down to the table, the sound of the bang coming through loudly on the speakers, and his ears wilted slightly as he groaned dramatically. “You’re kidding me. How many pictures did I fucking miss out on!?”

“No! None!” Kagome frantically tried to dispel his aggravation, waving her hands before her even though he couldn’t look to see. “I’ve hardly taken any pictures, or looked remotely presentable to have anything to show off, I swear! It was just an example!”

“Fucking liar.” He grumbled.

“No, I’m not lying! See,” Kagome grabbed her phone from beside her, unlocking it with her thumbprint and opening the photos app. Inuyasha glanced up at her with a grimace, disdain for himself written all over his face, but she ignored it as she showed him the screen, mindlessly scrolling through while trying to see where she was at in the small window of herself on the FaceTime camera. “It’s all stupid screenshots I save for later or send to Sango. There’s a couple pictures of myself the day this term started, but those were for my mom because she collects first day of school pictures. Then, we’re back in summer vacation. And then, that’s all before we even met.”

“Hold it!” Inuyasha abruptly demanded. Kagome stopped scrolling, pulling back her phone to see what he was looking at. “Go back down.”

“Hm?” She questioned, putting the screen back up to him so he could guide how far back he wanted her to go as she slowly slid her finger along the glass of her phone.

“A little more. There. The blue shirt. Let me see that one.”

Again, Kagome glanced at her phone, selecting the image he was looking at as she felt her cheeks flush. It was just as the weather began warming up and she drove ten hours home to surprise her mom for her birthday. Rightfully, she’d done her makeup for the event, her hair, and wore a cute blouse that fell off her shoulders to reveal the few freckles littering her skin beneath. And, in the selfie she’d taken, she’d ruffled her loose curls further, the smile she wore was a little on the sultry side, and the light hit her chocolate eyes just right. With the hint of embarrassment, Kagome presented the picture to Inuyasha. His growing, crooked grin ignited a flurry within her stomach, the sensation quickly traveling through her chest and over the surface of her entire body.

“Send it to me.” He said huskily.

“What? You want this one?”

“Like that’s even a question. Send it over.”

Flattered, she complied, texting it to his number. His smile brightened, then his FaceTime screen paused as he picked up his phone from the table and clicked her text. Though she couldn’t see him anymore, she could still hear him, and his exhaled breath upon seeing her photo had her ready to melt into a puddle on the carpet beneath her seat. 

Inuyasha released a tantalizing chuckle, whispering a hoarse, “Fuck.”

“What?” Kagome giggled, her embarrassment increasing and her face growing hot.

“Just -“ He paused. “Fuck, baby.”

“Come back.”

“Hang on, I’m setting this as your contact picture. That way, whenever you text or call, this picture will pop up, and if anyone looks over at my phone, they’ll have a good moment to envy me when they realize what my girlfriend looks like.”

“Inuyasha!” She laughed, slapping her hands to her cheeks to hide the maddening blush.

“Hey, and that’s just your face.”

“Stop!”

“Man, if they saw your ass -“

“Inuyasha! Oh my god!”

He popped back onto her screen, setting his phone back where it had been with the most satisfied and cocky expression. 

“Send me one of you.” She said, shaking her head and laughing the humility off.

“I will. Later. Promise.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Kagome asked with a genuine tone, her smile unfaltering.

“Yes and no.” He answered honestly. “I’m not going to one hundred percent feel better until I’m back with you. But, at least I have you now.”

“You’ve had me all this time, Inuyasha. I would have waited for you for as long as you needed me to.” She swore she saw a tint of pink ripen his cheeks. “Are you going to try to at least sleep a little before work?”

“I don’t want to hang up yet.” He replied, his voice dying away with his empowering sincerity.

“I know you don’t need as much sleep as a human, but you still need some.”

“I’m not that tired.”

“Have you been sleeping well lately?”

“Why do you want me to hang up so bad?” Inuyasha chuckled lightly.

“I don’t. Not at all. I haven’t had my fill of you yet, either. But, I know you. When you get stuck in your head about something, you don’t sleep well. Now, there’s less to keep you up.” Kagome said, her tone as gentle as ever.

“You worry too much.” He dismissed with amusement. “Ten more minutes, then I’ll head to bed. Happy?”

He meant what he’d said as he spoke it, but it was impossible to remember the time as he continued to speak with her, made her laugh, witnessed her beautiful smile that had him smitten all over again. She helped him forget his grief from just moments before, she helped him feel like time hardly missed a beat with them. She told him she loved him before pushing him to go to sleep after a while, and his heart felt as if it sputtered elatedly.

From then on, they communicated as often as they possibly could. He memorized her schedule like the back of his hand the moment she’d graciously sent it to him, and if anything ever ended up changing, like a canceled class, a fever that kept her bed-ridden, or maybe she was staying out longer to get lunch or dinner with a friend, she’d never hesitate to tell him. Not so he knew not to bother her, because it wasn’t like that with them. Both of them were a wonderful priority to each other. He just liked knowing she was safe. He liked knowing when she was home and when she got home. There was literally only one part of her schedule he did not like, and he let it be known. Twice a week, she had to take a late class. It was with a small group, it was in a building on campus located far from the parking lot, and it got out at nine-forty-five in the evening. Meaning, twice a week, she was alone and vulnerable on a ten minute walk back to her car, then again at her apartment complex during the few minutes it took for her to get inside her place. She called him paranoid and he pridefully accepted it. He’d rather be labeled paranoid from his need to protect his girl than careless.

Since it wasn’t practical to even request for her to drop the class and see if it had a better timeframe next semester - especially given she was in her final year of college and the courses she had left were pretty much solidified - he had Kagome call him the moment she got out of class. She tried to argue that it was too late, or too early in his timezone, but he didn’t give a crap. He usually got up around six-thirty in the morning, five-thirty on the days he went to the gym. A five-fifty wakeup call wasn’t going to impede on anything, and it took him telling her over and over he’d stay up all night if it meant he got to make sure she was safe to get it through her head that the fight she was putting up was pointless.

Honestly, what better alarm than a call from Kagome? What stronger sense of productivity than to start his day by keeping his girl company as she ended hers. She had the audacity to call him with a normal voice call the first couple times around, but he quickly fixed that by swapping it over to FaceTime. As shadowed as she was in the night, he wanted to be there with her in the best way possible. He honestly didn’t like her being too distracted while she walked, but he couldn’t help but want to hear her talk. And, she’d let it accidentally slip one time that she was a sucker for the groggy voice he had early in the morning. Naturally, he’d milk that for all it was worth and tell her a little about his day prior. As soon as she’d reach her car, he’d remind her to check the backseats; which she really didn’t need to be reminded to do. Nine times out of ten, she was already doing it to make sure no one had broken in. Then, he’d stay on the line with her for the fifteen minutes it took her to drive home and find parking in her complex, and by the time she was inside her apartment, he was usually sipping the last of his morning coffee. On a good occasion, Kagome would walk into a madhouse and secretly flip the camera around to sneak in glimpses of her best friend frantically attempting to work on last minute assignments due by midnight while she was strung on ramen noodles and late night espresso shots she really shouldn’t be allowed. The hardest part was swallowing his laughter until Kagome was safely shut inside her room. And, the sweetest part came when she’d give him this cute as shit nose scrunch as she smiled and told him to have a good day while eagerly awaiting his cheesy, cliche, timezone-inhibited reply of, “Get some sleep. I love you.”

Her midterms were hard on her, and he tried to support her through them the best he could, but her finals of the first semester were proving to test her limits. She was busier than ever with studying and assignments, she was exhausted, and a couple times she’d called him having a minor breakdown just because she knew he’d be able to talk her down and get her back to thinking semi-rationally. It was common in overworked and drained minds to be hard on yourself, he knew as well as anyone else. With their schedules at their most hectic yet, him heading meetings and really grinding down on a shit place his company acquired, texts weren’t often seen until hours later. Calls were always answered because he knew that if she was calling, with their plates being as full as they were, it was serious, but texts were unfortunately unanswered until both of them were home and had a small moment to breathe. That’s when things began to really weigh on them again. It went unspoken. On both ends. But, if he could feel the stress of not being able to even say he loved her while she was awake, if he could feel the torture of missing her even more than he already had before, he knew she could, too.

With the utmost amount of tenderness, Inuyasha began to put together a surprise care package with as many things he thought she’d enjoy that would fit in the box. She was in the midst of her exams, he knew, but given she’d been able to get a couple out of the way already, she was bound for the remainder the following week, and then she was heading home for Christmas break, he wanted to get this out to her as soon as possible. He was just missing one major component.

As he returned to his loft at the end of his long day, he texted Kagome to see if she was busy, and within the minute she responded saying she wasn’t. Stealing the opportunity, Inuyasha FaceTimed her, the call swiftly answered with the usual chime of the video connection. A laugh rose from his throat that he couldn’t swallow in time. The camera was angled downward on what he assumed was her laptop, exposing Kagome blinking sleepily as she laid stomach-down on the purple comforter of her bed, an arm rested beneath her temple as a pillow and a tired smile appearing on her lips.

“You just said you weren’t busy.” Inuyasha said, loosening the tie around his collar.

“I’m not.” Kagome giggled. “As you can see, I’m clearly doing nothing.”

“You’re napping.”

“I was simply resting my eyes.” She coolly stated, her brown eyes fluttering closed for a small moment.

“Were you studying?” Inuyasha chuckled, removing the tie entirely and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt with his free hand, finally feeling a little more comfortable.

“No, I was working on an essay. But, then the words started to blur together, and nothing made sense anymore, and next thing I knew, I was laying down.”

“Move the camera, I can’t see your whole face.” Without missing a beat, Kagome used her non-pillow hand to scoot her laptop a little to the left. God, even as spent as she was, she still looked breathtaking. Inuyasha smiled, sitting down on the couch and taking her in while she seemed so peaceful. “Perfect. You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled playfully. “Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. Before I forget to ask, can you do me a favor?”

“Only if you talk in your British accent.”

“That was a one time deal, dummy.”

“Again.” Her tone was cute, and her nose scrunched in the manner that usually suckered him into anything. She even pushed herself to prop up her chin so she looked more awake, adjusting the camera accordingly, her elbow sinking into the thick blanket beneath her.

“I was drunk when I agreed to it in the first place.” He feebly attempted to argue, rolling his amber eyes.

“Take a shot!” Kagome encouraged.

“I’m not doing it.” He chuckled.

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“Please?” She pushed on with her adorable voice, making it smaller, dragging out the word. 

Inuyasha sucked in an inhale, flexing his jaw in an attempt to resist her. With every ounce of willpower her had, he shook his head to tell her no, exhaling his strain and smiling as he slid his tongue over his canine tooth. With a defeated huff and a pout, Kagome gave in.

“Fine. What do you want?” She asked teasingly.

“Your address.”

“Hm? You don’t have that?”

“I’ve never needed it before.” He laughed, the evidence of her groggy brain coming through.

“Oh?” She piqued, cocking a sly brow. “And, what would you happen to need it for now?”

“I’ve got something for you.”

“A Christmas present?”

“No. Your Christmas gift will be sent separately. This is just a gift.”

“What is it?” Kagome asked excitedly.

“None of your business.” He chuckled. “Send me your address.”

“So bossy.” She joked, grabbing her phone from beside her computer and sending him what he’d requested.

“Got it. Thanks, babe. You can go back to sleep now.”

“Wait, no. Don’t go yet.” Her eyes had grown larger, almost pleading, and Inuyasha had to wonder if she could ever give him an expression he wasn’t utterly weak for. “Unless you’re busy, then I totally understand.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do right now than stay on the phone with you, baby.” He grinned, his heart thundering as she beamed brightly and pushed herself to sit up for him.

Kagome came home from her final exam of the semester - of the year, really, considering when they returned from break, it’d be after New Years - feeling pumped for finally having everything out of the way while simultaneously ready for the longest nap of her life. All she needed to do was proofread her very last paper and press submit by tomorrow, and she was ready to head home for Christmas. 

She’d stopped at Starbucks for a celebratory peppermint cappuccino, in light of the holiday, grabbing one for Sango while she was at it, because the poor girl was still knee deep in two of her remaining projects. As she entered their apartment, her best friend popped out from the little kitchen entry, clearly not intending to scare the shit out of her, but doing so in her powerful excitement.

“Hi! You got a package in the mail!” Sango shouted, a packet of spaghetti noodles held in her grip.

Kagome clutched her chest over her heart with her free hand, lucky she didn’t drop the carrier of their hot drinks all over the place in her terror. “How many?”

“Noodles? I don’t know, I mean I’ve never tried to count -“

“Espresso shots!”

“Oh. Oh! I don’t want to talk about it.” Sango swiftly dismissed, grimacing.

“How many!?”

“Enough to give an elderly man a heart attack, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I’m gonna kill Miroku for getting you that thing.” Kagome seethed, finally recovering and dropping her bag by the tiny dining room table.

“Is that a coffee for me I see?” Sango sang, dancing her way over to her best friend.

Kagome groaned, taking her drink out of the carrier and begrudgingly handing it to the over-caffeinated girl. “A mistake.”

“Thanks, friend!” She squeaked. “Open your package, I want to see what’s in it! I saw a familiar name written on top!” Again, she was singing, more so to be teasing this time but Kagome only laughed.

“Did you mean, mine?”

“No! Oh my god, it’s on the coffee table.”

Kagome’s attention turned, noticing for the first time a decently-sized, brown box waiting for her in the living room. Sauntering over, she looked at the labels, Inuyasha’s name and return address sitting in the upper-left corner. Truthfully, she’d forgotten to expect anything from him, the thought of a gift pushed to the back of her mind by her insane schedule.

She flicked up the packing tape with her nails, peeling it from the top and opening the package to reveal several things waiting for her inside. She grabbed for the shirt folded nicely and crammed on the side. At first glance, it seemed large and comfy, but then when she turned it over to see the band name on front, she realized it was one of his favorite, old shirts he’d worn while they were together. Instantly, she pursed out her bottom lip in adoration, hugging it close.

“Wait, there’s a letter!” Sango pointed gleefully, sipping her coffee as she watched Kagome open her gift.

Kagome gently placed the shirt over the rim of the box, grabbing for the folded paper to open it and see a little letter written in her love’s handwriting. 

A couple notes as you open this:

– Snacks for your downtime.

– A new heating pad for your cramps since I fucking KNOW you haven’t gotten rid of that shitty one yet.

– Vanilla body spray from a little shop out here, because I know you like that scent. And, I like it on you.

– Two of my shirts. They smell like me. Wear them to bed and I’ll be right there with you. Send me pictures in them, too. I mean it.

– Chapstick, because you go through that shit like crazy. It’s the kind you like, don’t freak out.

– The last one is self explanatory. Open it. Put it on. Tap it three times.

Kagome had to resist hugging the piece of notebook paper to her chest, wanting to hold the sweet gesture as close to her as possible but refusing to crinkle the page. She gently placed it on the table, moving the shirt she’d already looked at to the side and grabbing for the other one. It was another band tee, a little less worn than the other but his homing scent radiating from it and bringing tears to prickle at her eyes. She bunched beneath her nose, really taking it in while she fought to hold her composure, too happy for words.

Finally setting it aside, she reached for the cute bottle of body spray, taking a little whiff of the perfume that smelled so sweet before setting it down and reaching for the little packet of chapstick, giggling along with Sango. He’d sent over a package of chocolate chip cookies, and two bags of chips she’d never had before but she was excited to try tonight, having already planned on putting on a movie and vegging out. The new heating pad made her laugh again, the box in pristine condition. Then, lastly, a small, blue and purple, gradient-blurred box sat alone in the package, the image of two wrist bands posted on the front.

Kagome carefully opened it, greeted with a black bracelet of sorts as she removed it completely from the packaging, the top of it harboring a small, oval widget.

“What is it?” Sango asked.

“I don’t know. He told me to put it on and tap it three times.” Kagome shrugged, handing it to Sango so she could strap it securely around her left wrist. As it was fastened, Kagome went ahead and tapped her finger to the face of the device, watching a thin strip of blue light illuminate over the surface she touched.

It was hardly thirty seconds later that her phone began to ring, Inuyasha’s contact picture filling the screen. Shocked and joyous, Kagome lunged to answer her phone.

“Hi!”

“You got it.” He hummed, the soft sound of chatter and passing cars filtering through in the background.

“How’d you know?”

“Still haven’t figured it out yet?” At her lack of an answer, Inuyasha chuckled. “Okay, are you wearing it?”

“Yeah.”

Three slow vibrations tickled the part of her wrist beneath the oval device, a purple light shining with each sensation. Kagome’s jaw dropped with her breathy gasp, pure bliss written all over her face. “Oh my god, was that you!?”

“Yup.” He laughed.

“You tapped it three times!?”

“Yup.”

“It’s like I can feel you!” She was so happy, so absolutely euphoric to receive some form of touch from her soulmate, her tummy fluttering wildly and body enticingly warm. There was no fighting the tears that flooded her eyes, her heart so wonderfully full.

“Are you crying?” He chuckled as she sniffled.

“Shut up!” She laughed. “I love it all so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, baby. This way, whenever we miss each other but are too busy to talk, we can just give this thing a few taps and we’ll literally feel it. Especially, since you’ll be starting your internship next month. This thing’s really gonna come in handy.”

Kagome gave out a pouty whimper, grabbing his shirts and curling up on the couch to hold them close. “I just love you so much. Thank you.” She playfully whined.

“I love you, too.” He laughed.

“I can’t believe you gave me your favorite shirt.”

“I can’t believe you’re about to send me a ton of pictures in it.” He countered, his tone completely serious.

“With or without pants?”

“Slut.” Sango joked, walking away and downing her hot beverage.

“What do you think?”

“With or without a bra?”

“Fuck.” He whispered, taken. It was a thin, white shirt. If she wore it well and wore it right, he might be able to catch a glimpse of something he was sorely aching for.

“Got it.” She teasingly said. “Are you out and about right now? It’s kind of late there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m at a bar with some friends. Stepped outside to call you.”

“Are you having fun?”

“Not as much fun as I’d be having with you.”

“Go back inside,” Kagome giggled. “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.” He breathed, content.

“Let me know when you get home safe, please.”

“I will.”

“British accent?”

“Not drunk enough.” Inuyasha laughed.

“Dang it! Okay, love you. Bye.”

“Love you.”

Winter break was relaxing and necessary for a reset, and whenever Inuyasha wanted to text, call, or FaceTime, she was available for him. Their bracelets didn’t get much use then, but Kagome still refused to take it off unless it needed to charge. Once she got back into the swing of school for her very last term, was introduced to her internship and the responsibility she held, was thoroughly buried in homework she struggled to catch up on during her off days, that’s when they came through.

If she ever tapped it, he was incredibly fast to respond with touches of his own, as if he was right there for support. She adored him. He was so amazing. He was so kindhearted and good. Her favorite time to receive those sensations from him were late at night, sometimes while she was dozing. There was nothing better than being woken by sweet vibrations from the love of her life who was just getting started on his own routine on his side of the world. He woke up thinking about her, and there was no better feeling. And, if she was ever looking for a little excuse to hear his voice, she’d send him three taps in the dead of night. The best time was between two and three in the morning. The first time she’d done it, she’d come out of a nightmare. As soon as she’d opened her eyes in the darkness of her bedroom, she’d immediately forgotten the happenings of which, but she was still awake, still slightly shaken, and still looking for a smidge of comfort. She tapped three times, he tapped back, and she sank into her bedding happily. But, then her phone started chiming with a FaceTime call from him. She reached up, flicking on the lamp on her bedside table and answered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, donned in his business attire and sitting at a desk, the look of concern etched on his face.

“Hm?” Her voice was rusty but small, the vaguest, confused grimace on her lips.

“Why are you awake?” He chuckled, slightly recovering.

“I had a bad dream.” Kagome pouted. “I just wanted to touch you. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His grin was tender. “I was worried something had happened. Are you okay now?”

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’m right here if you need anything.”

God, it was so serene to hear that. And, she lapped it up, realizing that he’d reach out to see that she was fine if he noticed she was up at an off time. She was often awake super late working on assignments, or studying when a test was approaching. Only a couple times had she actually gone out with friends - which he was typically aware of. But, if it had been a little while since she’d last done it - because, he’d catch on if she did it too often - she’d send him some sensations, waiting for her own in reply, and then her phone would light up with a call from him to check on her.

Around spring break, blessed spring break, she was packing up to head home again. She was just two weeks away from completing her four month internship, and her wonderful, gracious, brilliant supervisor arranged it so she could work them when spring break ended, so she could see her family for the allotted time off. Her younger brother was interviewing for a couple of colleges, utilizing their grandfather’s connections to their fullest capacities, and her mom thought it would be a good idea to make it an entire family outing. As far as she knew, they were going to Connecticut, and though she wasn’t sure what all there was to do out there, she was still just looking forward to the event.

Inuyasha rolled his golden eyes as his brother droned on and on, hoping the motion wasn’t too obvious behind the restaurant menu. The idiot literally flew him out for a lunch meeting. A lunch meeting. The U.K. to Chicago for a lunch meeting. Maybe this was a glimpse at his future when he took partnership at the company, maybe this was intended to be purposeful toward his increasing leadership roles, or maybe Sesshomaru made it a hobby to waste peoples’ time. Honestly, he was willing to bank on the first suggestion, and even the second - his spite just sprouted the third, but it was hard to tell with his non-communicative brother. Everything was basically just left up to surprise.

Only once in the last fifteen minutes had he been addressed, and everything else Sesshomaru discussed had basically nothing to do with him, nor was it information anyone at the table would necessarily deem valuable. After the redeye flight he’d sat on, the dull walkthrough of the facility Sesshomaru was currently whipping into shape, and the headache Jaken was causing just by existing, all Inuyasha wanted was a fat lunch to make it all worth it. Also, he’d pay someone to tell his brother that not every update needed to be a fucking meeting.

Knowing they were still ages away from ordering anything more than water, Inuyasha propped his cheek in his palm, glancing out the window he sat next to. His golden eyes mindlessly swept over passing people, the charming, cobblestone street a good home for boutiques and cafe’s to attract attention. Older women wore smiles as they chatted with their companions, men walked hand-in-hand with their partners, young girls filtered into shops, and Kagome’s bright grin as she picked on the guy next to her even managed to clear the annoyed frown from his face.

His heart stopped. Kagome? What the fuck?

There was an exhilarating jolt that coursed through his body, his heart remembering it’s purpose and pumping powerfully against his ribcage as he studied the girl as best as he could from where he sat. Was it her? Long, black hair, slim figure, kind of short - he’d groan loudly if he could have from his building agitation. These were all general factors of identification. He needed to see her face or hear her voice.

Turn around. Turn the fuck around.

And, as if she sensed his need, she twirled around as they continued on, her smile as beautiful as ever in the dress she donned as she spoke with the elderly man behind her, walking backward to keep up. It was her.

It was Kagome.

As calmly as he possibly could, which was a feat on its own, he whispered into his brother’s ear that he needed to check in on something with his own facility. Work-related meant there was a good chance Sesshomaru wouldn’t gripe. His brother gave him an empty stare, and Inuyasha pressed that it was important, to which Sesshomaru gave a nod of approval and momentarily dismissed him to slip outside. The second his foot was out the door, the hanyou bolted, chasing after that sweet scent of hers that he could pinpoint anywhere. They couldn’t have gotten too far, she had an old geezer on her tail. Still, the further down the road he got, the more narrow and crowded the street became. 

A huge part of him couldn’t even believe they were so close to one another right now. It was hard to digest; hard to understand that this was real. His heart was pounding, his stomach was in a violent flurry, his fingers were shaking with a debilitating need to grab onto her and never let go. His eyes scoured the area, looking for his girl, his love, his soulmate. If he ever met fate, he was going to punch that fucker in the throat and then thank her for the opportunity - because, as kind as she seemed to be, she was still a petty ass bitch for putting them through this.

Free from the claustrophobic street and coming into a large, open, touristy square, he spotted her from behind a good ways ahead. Without thinking, unable to stop himself even if he tried, he shouted her name, his lungs pumping air fervently as the anticipation for her to see him knocked the wind from his diaphragm.

Hearing a thunderous bellow of her name, Kagome abruptly stopped walking, startled while a frenzy of flutters erupted in her abdomen. She spun around, searching the area for the voice, the call, her mom asking what was wrong beside her but she couldn’t answer. 

Her breathing stopped, her heart sputtered, her body heated, and the biggest surprise overtook her when she spotted Inuyasha where they’d come from at the far end of the square. She didn’t even pause to process. Kagome ran to him, sprinted, enveloped in ecstasy when she saw him running toward her, too.

He’d braced to catch her and she threw herself into his arms, her own encircling his neck as he squeezed her tight, spinning her around once before setting her toes back to the ground.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here!?” She cried, unwilling to let go yet.

“I flew out for a meeting; I’m just here until tonight!” Inuyasha replied, holding her so tight his body curved protectively around hers.

“I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I didn’t want to mention it! It was last minute, and it’d be like salt in the wound! I thought you were in Connecticut, anyway!”

“No, I had it wrong!” She laughed, more from the overwhelming happiness than anything else. They finally let go of each other, but Inuyasha cradled her jaw with his hands, keeping her to him, and Kagome held onto his forearms, tightening her grip to attempt and still her trembling fingers. “His Connecticut interview is on a different date. This was apparently a Chicago interview trip all along.”

“You dummy.” He laughed, pulling her in for the kiss of a lifetime.

He breathed her in, holding her close, his shoulders curling over her as she whimpered beautifully into the breathtaking kiss. It heated him thoroughly, making him feel whole for the first time since August. 

“I swear,” She sighed as they broke apart, but he interrupted her with another kiss. “I texted -“ Another kiss, this time accompanied with a tiny growl to shut her up. It only made her giggle. “You.”

“I haven’t been able to check my phone. I’m so sorry.” He murmured breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I just can’t believe you’re here!” She squealed, bouncing to hug him again.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so goddamn much.” He laughed, engulfed in sheer bliss. “Was that your family I saw you with?”

“Yeah.” Kagome smiled, allowing him to let go, though their hands quickly sought the other’s out, fingers pleasantly entwined for a sense of completeness.

“I’d like to meet them.” He said with a quick peck to her cheek before gesturing for her to lead him over. She was giddy, practically skipping as she guided him through the square to where her mother, grandfather, and brother waited; two of which looking more confused than anything while the awaiting woman seemed nothing less than sweetly content.

“I’ve never seen my daughter run to anyone so fast in my life. You must be Inuyasha.” Kagome’s mother chuckled, the sound smooth.

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted kindly, holding out his hand for her to shake.

“Inuyasha, this is my mom, my grandpa, and my brother, Sota.” Kagome said. 

Her younger brother held a grimace of bemusement, and she rolled her eyes, her head lolling to the side in mild exasperation. 

“My boyfriend.” She clarified.

“Oh!” Sota’s expression cleared, like a lightbulb literally flickered on over his head. “Cool. The sweet-talker.”

“Oh my god.” Kagome mumbled, tucking her embarrassment behind Inuyasha’s arm as he laughed.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” The hanyou agreed with a smug grin, shrugging. It wasn’t a lie; he knew the level of his own game.

“Yeah, my sister never shuts up about you. How do you turn it off?” Sota sarcastically asked.

Kagome’s jaw dropped in shock and Inuyasha pinched his lips together to stifle his laugh. A look of humored fear struck her younger brother as she narrowed her eyes, silently mouthing the words, “I’m gonna fucking hit you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, boy.” The old man greeted, interrupting the siblings and taking Inuyasha’s hand to shake. “It’s a wonderment to see proof that the concept of soulmates still exists in this era.”

“I can’t agree more.” He nodded earnestly, squeezing Kagome’s hand as he still held it.

“If my son were still here, he’d damn the whole thing and insist on giving you a hard time to make sure you deserved Kagome.”

“I guess you’ll have to do it for him then. I’d happily take the challenge.”

“Shit, you are a sweet-talker.” Sota murmured, casually ducking behind their mother when Kagome sent him an incredulous glare to shut his mouth.

“I like to hear that.” Her grandfather stated.

“Are you here on business?” Her mother asked in reference to his professional attire, dressed to the nines thanks to Sesshomaru’s need to be uncomfortable, her genuine smile never having once faded.

“I am. Yes. I saw you all passing by the window of the restaurant we were having a meeting in. I couldn’t stop myself from running out.”

“What?” Kagome gasped. “You were currently in the meeting you were flown out for? And, you just ditched it!?”

“Don’t worry!” He laughed, giving her hand another comforting squeeze. “I told Sesshomaru I had to take a work call, so he thinks I’m on the phone.”

“Your brother was in the meeting, too!? How much longer can you pull this off before he grows suspicious!?”

Inuyasha pulled the cellphone from the pocket of his slacks, his humored expression deadpanning as he noticed a recent text from Sesshomaru telling him to wrap up the call so they could get on with business. He shifted an apologetic frown toward Kagome, pressing a long squeeze to her palm.

“Thought so.” She compassionately smiled.

“I’m sorry.” Came his whisper.

“Mama, I’m gonna walk him back, okay?”

“No, you don’t -“

���Alright, dear. We won’t go far.” Her mother beamed, waving a goodbye.

“It was so nice to finally meet you all.” Inuyasha politely said before turning around, dragging his soulmate off with him.

She hugged his arm close, the body heat of hers radiating through his suit. They didn’t say much on their walk back, which he intentionally took at a leisurely pace. It was a moment to respect; to savor. He wanted to memorize the prints of her fingertips that held his hand, every ridge and line of her skin engraved into his own. He wanted to absorb every ounce of warmth she had to offer, and be privileged to remember the exact rhythm that her lungs worked at. And, when they neared the restaurant, he physically felt the wrenching sputter of her heart, and though he knew it was from ache, he wanted to remember that, too. Because, it was for him. Because, she loved him. Because, she didn’t want say goodbye or any variation of the word. Because, it helped him realize that he was truly the luckiest bastard in existence.

Inuyasha turned around to face her, his hands instantly cradling her jaw and threading through her soft hair. “I’m sorry this was so short. I’m so sorry, Kagome.”

“Stop. Are you kidding me?” She lightly giggled. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you until you finished up in Europe. Even if this was short, I’m so happy right now.”

“You promise?” He asked for his own reassurance, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Pinky promise.”

Inuyasha curved her chin up in his grasp, kissing her deeply, taking every last bit of her in as he could. Her taste, her scent, the feel of her body pressed against his, everything.

“Get in there, business man.” She breathed, gently rubbing the tip of her nose against his.

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Kagome placed one last, sweet kiss to his lips before giving him an encouraging nudge in the direction of the door. “See you later.”

“Tap twice to let me know you’re back safe with your family.”

“I will. Go.”

“Wait, one more.” He laughed, reaching for Kagome and pulling her in for a final, hungry kiss. She melted in his grasp, sighing delightfully, fucking with his mental stability. “Now I’ll go.” He rumbled sedately. 

Composing himself, Inuyasha calmly entered the restaurant, crossing to the side his meeting was held on and taking his seat at the window with an apologetic look for the inconvenience. He was glad Sesshomaru didn’t ask questions; for once grateful for the general look of disinterest his brother’s face had seemed to be stuck in for as long as he could remember.

Three slow sensations tickled his left wrist and Inuyasha reflexively went to give them back, stopping himself as he looked out the window. Across the street, Kagome stood in her floral dress, the breeze blowing gorgeous strands of dark hair into her face. With a warm smile, she bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear before waving to him. A grin grew on his face, one he knew wasn’t subtle at all but who the fuck was he to care? That was his girl, his Kagome. Without removing his eyes, Inuyasha tapped his device three times, watching her brown eyes flutter down to see it illuminate and then smile even wider before gifting him with one last glance, and walking away.

From that point on, things were easy. Easier. It was still hard to be apart, but the sense that everything was going to be perfectly fine settled any nerves that had the tendency to get aggravated. Kagome’s schedule gradually cleared as she finished her internship and locked away the experience under her belt, and her classes weren’t as strenuous as the end of the school year approached. She was freaking out a little to try and lock down a job after graduation, as any graduate would be, but calming her down had become a simple task for Inuyasha. Frankly, he wasn’t worried about a damn thing anymore. He wanted Kagome to experience that level of tranquility, too. Everything was bound to fall in line for them from this point on, within their relationship and out, and if it didn’t happen organically, Inuyasha would personally see to fixing it, himself.

Interestingly enough, a plan was set in motion. A chain began to form, unbeknownst to both of them. Until he received a call from a number he didn’t recognize. On a whim, he answered, surprised to hear the soothing voice of Kagome’s mother on the other end; apparently having had Sango play the in-between intelligence that stole his number from Kagome’s phone. With the simple question she presented, the offer on the table, the hanyou cleared his schedule with no debate necessary. His answer was an immediate, “I’ll be there.”

Kagome stood with her graduating friends, waiting for the call that directed them all to get in line in the respectful categories of their majors, donned in celebratory dresses - and button-ups for the guys - beneath their gowns, caps held in their hands until absolutely necessary to put them on and ruin their hair. All of them were proud, joyful, excited, and albeit slightly nervous. Of course, as the ever so reliable one of the group, Sango pulled through with a small - and easily concealable - bottle of tequila. All of them pretended to be surprised that she would pull this stunt, but it would be a lie if anyone would expect anything less of her. Especially on such a jubilant day. Everyone took a straight swig from the bottle, passing it along to the next person until the circle was complete and everyone felt a little more pumped and prepared to cross the stage and wrap up their college career.

After the ceremony, the cheers, the jumps for joy, and the loud pops of confetti that damn near gave everyone a heart attack, students filtered out into the the courtyards to find their families. Kagome was dragged to the side with Sango and Miroku to wait, shadowed by trees in the large lawn dozens of students spaciously inhabited. Multiple times, Kagome felt she should try to find her family, worried they’d gotten lost in the crowd and maybe wandered to a different courtyard, which wasn’t difficult to do at her large school, but Sango insisted she stay put and just wait, claiming she was worrying too much. All she could do was constantly check the phone in her hand to make sure she didn’t somehow miss any notifications from her mom or younger brother.

Moments later, the warm voice of her mom called her name and Kagome beamed with happiness, running to hug her mother, hoping she’d succeeded in making her proud with her accomplishment. Her brother hugged her next, and then her grandfather kissed her cheek, all of them rosy in the face from smiling too much.

“Who’s the stud?” Sango flirtatiously asked, waltzing up to casually join the group and nudging her arm.

Kagome looked at her curiously, then followed the path of her eyes when Sango notched her chin to her left. Against a tree not too far away, a handsome man with short, silver hair leaned, an infamous, crooked grin adorning his face while his arms were nonchalantly crossed in front of his chest. He wore dark jeans with a light, untucked, button-up shirt, dressy enough for the occasion while still maintaining comfort.

“Oh my god!” She cried, carelessly dropping the things in her hands into Sango’s grasp and running over to her cunning boyfriend. “You’re here! You’re here!”

Inuyasha met her halfway, stealing her into a tight embrace as she still bounced on her feet, too excited for stillness, laughing.

“When did you get here!? I FaceTimed you this morning!”

“I know, I was bunkered in your room at your mom’s house.” 

“You were at my mom’s!?” Kagome pulled away, completely taken aback.

“It was her idea for me to surprise you.” The hanyou couldn’t bite back his amusement, chuckling and ecstatic that they’d pulled it off without an inkling of suspicion.

Kagome spun around, pinning her best friend with an audacious stare. “You knew, didn’t you!?”

“Of course, I knew! I played a roll in getting him out here!” Sango laughed.

“And, I just knew because that’s my right.” Miroku added, throwing his arm over Sango’s shoulders.

Kagome, too grateful for words and hoping her smile showed all the thanks she could possibly give, spun back around to Inuyasha, hopping back into a hug and robbing a kiss from him. “I can’t believe you’re here! Did you watch?”

“From start to finish. I’m so proud of you!”

“How long are you here for!?”

“Two days. You’ve got me for two days, baby.” Inuyasha squeezed her tight, pulling apart so he could kiss her on the forehead.

Sango and Miroku had parted to find their own families, and Inuyasha and Kagome enjoyed a night out to dinner with her own, celebrating her achievement before she headed back to her own apartment, rightfully dragging Inuyasha home with her.

They were merely in the hallway outside of her apartment before it hit them like a freight train, maddening desire catching up with them after months and months. Their lips had crashed into each other’s, their kiss heated and loving and mind numbingly hot. She was stumbling backward to get to her front door while Inuyasha held firmly around her waist, the two of them actively refusing to part until they absolutely had to - which just so happened to be when she dropped her keys while trying to unlock the door with one hand.

They both laughed, wonderfully flustered, and though he let her go so she could reach for the lanyard that held her keys, Inuyasha took residence behind her, his fingers gripping her hips and pinning his body to hers. His job was to make it difficult for her to get anything done, because in his eyes, he wouldn’t be doing it right if she could concentrate through his ministrations. Lips grazed over the tender flesh of her neck, his searing breath trailing over tended to spots and making her quiver where she stood. Kagome’s fingers were fumbling over keys, and he just fucking knew his girl was biting her lip to keep from making a peep.

God, he was so hard already, ready to fuck her over and over. And, over. And, over. And, if she asked nicely, one more time. He had so much pent up frustration for her to take in, and sleep was for the wicked. Her neck tasted so good, her reactions - stifled as they may be - made him feel borderline feral.

Finally, Kagome unlocked her door, throwing it open and spinning around to claim Inuyasha’s mouth and pull him through, allowing him to shut and lock the bolt.

“Sango?” He murmured into her kiss.

“Not home.” She breathed.

“Sure?”

“She’s smart. She’s not home.”

“Oh? Yeah?” His husky tone piqued in ruttish interest, one of his hands coursing through her hair to snag blissfully at the back. “You already knew what was gonna happen, baby? My little slut.”

Kagome could only reply in a moan, gripping the front of his shirt as she tried to guide him to her bedroom without tripping. She’d left her cap and gown in her car, leaving her donned only in the new dress she’d gotten just for the occasion. It was form-fitting, hugging every curve of hers beautifully, accentuating her perfect tits, her grabbable ass, the straps thin and the hem ending above mid-thigh. Through the door of her bedroom, he wasted no time in locating the zipper, dragging it down her back to release the dress’s enviable grasp on her. The straps fell from her shoulders easily, and Inuyasha gladly dragged them over her arms, flawlessly pushing the dress down her chest, her waist, her hips, and to the floor where she stepped out of it and kicked her flats off. Her breasts were concealed by a strapless bra, and after she eagerly undid his shirt and shoved it off of him, he yanked the useless delicate down to reveal the gorgeous and tempting sight of her hardened nipples. Inuyasha’s mouth instantly claimed one, not bothering to take his time. He was needy for her. Too much time played a cushion between them and he needed the fervent reminder of what she tasted like, how she felt while she laid helplessly beneath him as he fucked her, the erotic sounds she made when he hit just the right spot that made her clutch the bedding and arch her back. 

Inuyasha pulled her to follow him as he sat on the edge of the mattress, sucking and using his tongue to flick her nipple within his mouth. Without instigation, she straddled his lap, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, and he rewarded her by grabbing her ass and maneuvering her to grind against his erection. His jeans hindered the sensation he craved, but the way she trembled told him how much she loved it all.

Easily, he unhooked the bra still wrapped beneath her supple breasts, unable to remove the wretched thing fast enough, and switched to pay attention to her neglected nipple. His hands made home on her ass, massaging, giving a little spank, but mindful to be frugal in how often he allowed her to grind into him. He’d stop her if she tried to do it herself, and just to show her he was in charge, he would sometimes only move her in simple, light motions that gave her limited satisfaction. The pleading whimper she made was music to his ears, and he gave a taunting chuckle in response each time. If only she knew he was just getting started with her.

“You miss me, baby?” He whispered hoarsely. Kagome whined, almost gasping as he littered steaming kisses over her chest. “No, no. I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes.” She replied breathlessly. “I missed you so much.”

“Good girl. I missed you, too. All those pictures you send me almost make me lose my mind. I was so fucking close to buying a ticket to see you when you sent me the ones of you touching yourself. You know the ones?” Another keen, breathy and voiceless as he nipped her ribcage lightly. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” She sighed at the exact moment he ground her against him.

“The ones where I know what you’re doing, but I don’t get to see anything. Not a fucking thing. You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

That time, Kagome gave a satisfied and sultry giggle, licking her lips in response.

“Oh, you do? You’re a little too proud of yourself there, baby girl. You like driving me crazy?” His voice was deep, throaty, driving her wild and Kagome could barely manage a pout while she nodded that time.

“You wanted me to buy that ticket to you, didn’t you?”

Another nod, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as he pushed his hand between her pussy and his pelvis, dragging his fingers over her lace panties to taunt her as she created the respected space to allow him, again, to do whatever the hell he wanted to her.

“All so I could fuck you?” That time he whispered, feeling his hot breath bounce off her soft skin. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

“Oh, come on now. You can do better than that.”

“Inuyasha.” She trembled, her hips bucking mildly when he applied a little more pressure to her core.

“Do it.”

“Please.”

“Fucking beg me.”

“Please.”

“Give me more, baby.”

“I want you so bad.” She whined, her fingernails raking over his shoulders.

“I know you do.” Inuyasha gently pushed her to stand, following closely, one of his hands going into her hair to softly grip while his other undid his jeans, all the while leading her backwards toward the far wall. “But, that’s not what I asked. You need to beg me for this cock.”

“Please. Please, I want it so bad. I’m begging you. I’ve missed you so much. I need you.” The plead was almost too genuine, each waver to her tone like a lick of fire to his flesh, and he smiled arrogantly, tightening his grip on her hair and pulling her in for a feverish kiss.

He pinned her to the wall, pressing his body against hers, feeling the way her chest rose and fell with each heavy sigh. In his devotion to make sure she was going to get everything from him, including a refreshment course on how powerfully he worshipped her body, he steadily dropped to his knees, kissing down along the way. To drag those wanton breaths from her lungs, he place scalding kiss after kiss over the cloth of her panties, teasing her before giving in with a content chuckle. After pulling them down her gorgeous legs, Inuyasha licked his lips, propping one of her thighs over his shoulder as he set to his delectable feast. Fuck, she tasted so ungodly delicious, bringing a deep groan to rumble from his throat. He alternated between flattening his tongue to drag it over her entire pussy and playing with her clit with the very tip, and when her legs quickly began to tense and wobble, he wondered just how much she’d be able to take. He held her thighs, taking a deep lap with his tongue and then sucking on her clit, swallowing her juices. In the sexiest voice, the most desperate moan he’d heard from her yet, Kagome cursed, her hand gripping at his silver hair.

“Fuck, baby. Please.” She rasped, trying to pull him up.

Like a sucker, he complied, drowning her in a deep kiss while his hand curved around her throat. Kagome’s adventurous hands scraped down his bare sides, blindly making sure he’d undone his pants before finding the band of his boxers and reaching through to pull out his cock. Her palm was hot and he was throbbing. Using one hand brought a groan from his throat, and as she incorporated a second one, he couldn’t prevent himself from rolling into her grip, captivated by her mind numbing touch.

Inuyasha pushed her hands away, taking the liberty to curl her arms around the back of his neck as he leaned down, picking her up by the thighs and pushing her solidly against the wall for support. Without missing a beat, he gingerly pushed inside of her, hissing an unrestrained, “Shit!” Her legs wrapped around his hips, his girl ready to take him all in, and the sight of her mouth hanging open from the blissful intrusion had him going mad.

He moved his palms upward, gripping her ass as he began to thrust into her. It almost felt like it had during their first time together; so lost in each other it was impossible to stop. So enraptured, so taken that it would be debilitating to hold back. He could see Kagome losing herself, keening, grasping him tighter as her head dropped to his shoulder. Fuck, she was already shaking, enjoying herself too much, and it brought a wicked grin to Inuyasha’s face.

“You like that?” He teased.

“Harder.” She shockingly answered, lightly digging her nails into the back of his shoulders.

He had an unhinged need to give her exactly what she wanted. She was light in Inuyasha’s arms, easy to move, easy to manipulate, easy to fuck, but for better grounding, he further trapped her placement against the wall, their gasping mouths just centimeters apart as he thrusted deeper into her with nearly-bruising force.

“That what you want?”

“God, yes.” Kagome mewled, allowing her head to rest against the wall, a sinful smile growing on her face.

Inuyasha lavished her open neck and throat with adoring kisses, nips, licks, and sucks, intentionally leaving his mark. She was his. He wanted Kagome covered in his hickies, he wanted her smothered in his scent, he wanted the world to know that fate didn’t have to play a part in their union; Inuyasha would have willingly chosen Kagome time and time again.

Feeling the searing and overwhelming pleasure of her pussy claiming him, he pulled away from the wall the smallest amount; enough to give him room to play. He moved her hips, bouncing her on his dick as if she were the one fucking him, absorbed in the way her entire body responded. She was trembling, her voice broken, her legs squeezing him harder, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, and as she sucked in a shivering breath to hold, Inuyasha claimed her mouth, kissing her as she came on his cock.

Her legs were unstable, wobbly, but he set her down anyway, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his waist so he could support her as he guided her over to the bed, languid kisses peppered as they went. As they reached the mattress, Inuyasha smiled into his kiss, spinning her around and pushing her to bend over the edge of it. Kagome’d caught herself on her hands, temptingly biting her lip as she glanced over her shoulder at him before crawling further onto the bed to brace on her knees as well. Inuyasha shoved his pants and boxers down a littler further so they were out of the way, giving his cock a couple of jerks as he observed the tantalizing sight before him. Daringly, Inuyasha smacked her ass, his eyes rolling back ecstatically when she gifted him with a sensual sigh.

He spit into his hand, lubricating his cock before kneeling onto the mattress behind her and pushing inside, filling her whole. His pace started slow, but it was too simple. Kagome wanted more and she was willing to take it on her own, moving herself back and forth to match his rhythm and push him deeper inside of her. Altogether, Inuyasha stopped, allowing her to do as she pleased for a moment because the way her ass bounced against his hips was just too sexy to ignore. But, when she seemed to be thoroughly pleasing herself, he reached for her waist, anchoring himself as he pushed so hard into her that they both groaned loudly. She’d almost lost her balance, her hands clambering forward to clutch her comforter and support herself. Muscles engaged in her back, accentuating the curve of her spine, and Inuyasha felt a dangerous heat bubbling inside of him.

He’d completely admit that he’d lost himself to her in that moment, absolutely captivated by the way her body contorted, bounced, flexed, and ultimately welcomed his aggressive thrusts with how hard, how deep he fucked his girl. Reaching forward, Inuyasha safely gripped her hair, supporting her waist with his free arm as her scooped her torso up to meet his, the angle a little different while her hands grasped the forearm he held around her front, and her moans took on a pitchy effect.

“Play with yourself.” He ordered in her ear, releasing her to fold over completely with zero hesitation to do as he said.

He’d anchored himself by gripping her hips, enraptured by the beautiful expressions displayed on his soulmate’s face while she rested the side of it against the blanket, one of her hands tightly clutching the bedding by her shoulder while the other had glided between her thighs, massaging her clit. The way her breathing increased, her body responding to the ample stimulation, it was sending him spiraling, clenched curse words slipping off his tongue like they were the only hope of remaining grounded for however long it took to force Kagome to succumb with him. 

“Come on, baby. Come on.” He gently coaxed, her squirming testing his willpower.

“Don’t - don’t stop!” She begged, muffling her voice with the comforter while she continued to vigorously rub herself. 

Fuck, those words were like a fire hazard, building the heat that was already threatening to burn him down. Inuyasha clenched his jaw shut, grunting as he forced himself to maintain everything exactly as it was so as not to throw her off. What this goddess wanted, she got, and if she told him not to stop, especially in that desirable, whimpering manner, then obey he would.

“A l-little harder, please.”

Son of a bitch, she was going to be the death of him. The politeness, the submissive way she requested what she needed to reach climax had Inuyasha soaring, his fingers gripping harder so as not to reveal that they’d tremble against her supple flesh if he didn’t. That didn’t prevent him from bequeathing an ounce more of fervency to get her closer, closer, the enchanting sound of skin slapping skin all he could focus on until she rolled her hips in an irrepressible reaction to the orgasm fervidly overtaking her, the shuddering gasp she released proving to be the absolute end of his discipline. With just a few more powerful bucks of his hips, Inuyasha pulled out in time to cum on her back, biting back curses as his core went taut.

Sleep was for the wicked. So he said. Inuyasha had cleaned Kagome up, taken care of her after to make sure she was okay, gotten her water from the fridge while she was in the bathroom, and the moment their heads hit the pillows, they were sedated, lethargic, yet so greatly inclined to resist the pull of sleep. Kagome laid in his arms, eyes closed but still conscious, still whispering little stories to him that made him laugh. His bottom arm was loosely curled around her, but he earnestly tended to her with his other, stroking her hair, her cheek, her shoulder, massaging her temple to relax her, satiating his own desire to softly stroke her bottom lip with his thumb. It was a moment he wanted burned into his memory for as long as he lived. How easy it was to worship her, to love her, to respect her and cherish the light that she offered by just being. How simple it felt to just exist with her in such an insignificant moment that still meant the world to them both. It almost hurt, how much he adored Kagome. It was a pain he gladly accepted, though. It was a pain that reminded him he was alive, fortunate. It was a good pain. It made him question who he’d ever be without her, and then it made him immediately squash the thought as he silently swore he’d never let a living soul hurt this woman. Ever. He’d give his life for hers without a second thought.

What didn’t seem to hurt so much anymore, though, was parting. Goodbye was always bittersweet, but the both of them also felt complacent. The hard part was gone and passed. Had been for a little while. And, four months later, their path was reaching an alignment.

He’d succeeded. Inuyasha was finally receiving his promotion in his father’s company, attaining his share of the partnership. It was a huge weight off his shoulders, and a moment he couldn’t help but hope his late father would be proud of. 

This also meant he was coming home.

The moment Sesshomaru and he finished speaking about the upcoming changes and their next course of action, Inuyasha purchased a ticket for a flight home for the following week. The call to inform Kagome was nerve-spiking, because he anxiously awaited her excited reaction. He anxiously awaited closing the gap and ending the remainder of their madness. And, she didn’t fall through. God, when her voice got so high pitched because she just couldn’t contain herself, it brought the dumbest grin to his face. 

Momentarily, she’d been staying with her mom, the job she was currently working lackluster and only a means of experience for the time being. Not too long ago, Inuyasha presented the idea of them finding a place together whenever he got back - which would involve her relocating to a different state and leaving her job - and he’d be a fucking liar if he said he wasn’t nervous as all hell that she’d decline. It was a big move for them, but one neither of them could neglect to acknowledge would eventually happen no matter what. Considering the incredibly obvious circumstances. To his surprise, she’d enthusiastically agreed. 

As unsure as everything was, no apartment to come home to but a hotel to stay in until they found a place of their own, the couple was just too happy to care about the details. Finding an apartment would be a simple task, anyway, since money wasn’t a thing to worry about in Inuyasha’s book. Kagome packed her things and got to their new city a few days ahead of him, and though he watched her roll her eyes time and time again over their FaceTime call, her boyfriend actively refused to allow her to stay in a hotel that looked remotely shoddy. They were looking online together before she’d left, but he proved to be resolute in his decision, deciding on one he’d approved of and booking it for her with his own card. Oh, he got an earful for that since she felt it wasn’t fair he was paying for it, but he took it all with an arrogant smile. This was his way of taking care of her. Kagome could protest all she wanted; it was done and set in stone, and Inuyasha felt no inking of regret.

She’d caught a taxi from her hotel to the airport, practically bouncing in her seat the entire ride there, which escalated into a vibrating anticipation as they sought out the terminal he’d be landing in. Kagome was so giddy, so excited that she felt like she was high, her chest weightless and fingers slightly shaky from the overabundance of endorphins flowing through her system. Inuyasha’s flight was scheduled to land by ten-thirty that evening, but surprisingly the airport still had a good amount of foot traffic within. It was physically impossible to fight off her body’s reaction to bob from foot-to-foot while she stood idly in the waiting area, but it was all she could do to stay put when people started flowing out, a nearby, electronic board stating his flight had landed moments ago. Taking her cue, Kagome unrolled the small-sized poster paper in her hands, “Cujo” written on the front of it in bold, decorative handwriting. She’d warned him she’d do this if he continued to make fun of her the other night, the two of them having too much fun joking around, but he clearly thought she was full of it. The moment his silver hair came into view, though, ember eyes staring down at his phone, the hanyou donned in jeans, a loose tee, and a hoodie, Kagome just couldn’t contain herself. The paper loosely rolled back up on its own in her hand as she dropped it with the other, squealing loudly and sprinting over to her boyfriend. Inuyasha glanced up, a bright smile appearing on his face as he opened his arms and caught her when she jumped into his hold, her legs wrapping around his waist and body hugging him as firmly as she could.

“Hi!” He greeted, holding her securely and laughing.

“I missed you!” Kagome squeezed him tighter, too happy to let go yet.

“You have no idea, babe.”

She leaned back in his arms, just enough to kiss him, smiling gleefully as she peppered his lips in affection over and over. “Welcome home.”

He was hot, happy. Thankful. Licking his lips to welcome her taste when she pulled back to smile at him.

“What’s the sign say?” He smirked, letting her know he hadn’t missed the fact that she was carrying a poster. Kagome laughed, unfurling it to show him, and he groaned with feigned annoyance. Inuyasha hiked her up in his arms, easily tossing her over his shoulder as she yelped and laughed even harder, supporting her upper body with her hands braced on his back. “Where’s the fucking trashcan? I’m throwing your ass away.”

“Inuyasha, no!” She pleaded meekly in the midsts of her giggle fit.

| Cruel Summer |