#the sound of the rain and the birds and the insects

[cuubism]

Morphology | Dreamling | 4.6k words | Explicit | AO3

eldritch Dream, genderfluidity of a kind, lots of smut, nonhuman organs, angst, body dysphoria, undefined body forms and transformation, brief eldritch panic attack, they/them pronouns for Dream

Dream is not meant to stay in one form. But they must, for that is the form that Hob knows. That Hob loves. Or so they think.

this is based on @gabessquishytum and their anon's post located here, about Dream believing Hob won't want him in all his nonhuman shapes, only to discover Hob is very much a monsterfucker... and also loves him very much. I was going to append it to the post but then it got kind of very long. Hope you don't mind me playing around!

---

It was not for dreams to be only one thing.

In the Dreaming, they morphed and shifted, merging from one form to another. Smoke to wind to water, lava to sparks back to stone. In the minds of dreamers they took every unconceivable form, a thousand impossibilities as various as the limbs of Destiny’s forking tree. They were all of unreality. All that could not be, all that was hoped for, fleeting, forgotten, or held, for a time.

In the Waking, it was different. Dreams Dream bent and condensed into a singular form. They he knew well enough from his dreamers that while fluid changeability may be accepted in the illogical narratives of dreams, it was not so in the Waking. To interact with humans, he must appear as one, with the limited mutability that allowed.

Which was not to say that Dream disliked his Waking form. He chose what was pleasing to him. But sometimes it felt… stifling, for one used to being as expansive as the clouds.

Particularly after his imprisonment. Kept like an insect pinned to a board. Immovable. When he was meant to move. When he was Morpheus. Shaper of Forms.

Dream put that away from him.

Hob liked this form of his. Dream had come to understand the way Hob looked on him, and he liked that Hob wanted this form. But. He was not meant to stay in this form. Not always. It was. Chafing. It was. Hurting.

No matter. He could stay in this form that Hob wanted, because more than wanting to break from this skin Dream wanted Hob’s love. And his desire. He wanted to keep Hob’s gentle, heated touch.

This form of lean muscle and sharp bone. This solid body that had endured Roderick Burgess’s prison but also received Hob’s love… he could keep it. Yes. He could. He could.

~~~

I am wind that wishes to storm. Cloud that edges on rain. I am caterpillar’s dream of flight, I am words of disbelieving, I am the hopeful light of new stars, I am— I am water’s dance with the shore, and the sun’s kiss of the moon, and— and— no—

“Yo. Roiling mass of terror that I’m pretty sure is the boss. You good?”

Dream opened their eyes. They did not have eyes, but no matter. Dreams were often about seeing. Matthew was standing on the sand before them, head cocked.

“You alright?” he repeated. “I couldn’t tell if the shrieking was a bad thing or just like. One of your things.”

“One of my things,” Dream repeated.

“Can never know,” said Matthew. He hopped onto an arm that Dream’s form generated just for him to stand on.

“I was not,” said Dream, “shrieking.”

“You were definitely shrieking,” said Matthew. “It sounded like a laundry machine dying.”

Dream grumbled in offense.

Matthew nudged his head against one of Dream’s hands. “Do you… wanna talk about it?”

Dream considered. “Do you often ponder your own physical form, Matthew?”

“Well, since I became a bird,” said Matthew. “Kinda weird. It’s cool, though. Who doesn’t dream of flying, amirite?” He flapped his wings in demonstration, lifting off Dream’s arm, then settling down again.

“And when you were human?” Dream asked.

“Every human thinks about their body, dude.”

“Did you desire to change it?” Dream pressed.

“You mean like a weight loss program?” said Matthew. “Those never work.”

“No,” said Dream. Their form morphed around them, here legs, there tail, wings, teeth. They could not make it settle, not on a human shape or on anything else. They felt— agitated. They should return to their usual human form. Should. “That is not what I meant.”

“Ohhhhhh,” said Matthew, and smacked his face with his wing in realization. “It’s this whole deal. Well, you could change it if you want? I mean. You’re doing it.”

“I did not mean to,” said Dream, their form still writhing around them, never landing on any one shape. “I—” they were meant to go see Hob. They had been cloaked properly in their usual shape. And. Something had snapped.

They remembered, now, falling to their knees on the sand, the careful construct of their human self, a body once worn easily as one of many, shattering into a million shards.

They should. Change. They should change back. They wished to see Hob, and Hob, for all his adaptability, was only human, he would not be able to tolerate this, this thing that could not even give itself a face, or decide what it was, this thing that found physical stasis anathema after so long pressed in glass. Hob cared for the being that he knew. Not this one that, Dream thought, sometimes did not even know itself.

“Whatever you’re doing, I think you should probably stop,” Matthew warned.

“You dare to question me?” Dream bit. He was condensing back down under his human mask, he could do it, he could. He had loved this form once. Could again. As one of many.

Matthew nipped at his hand with his beak. And it was only this that made Dream realize he was clawing at his face so hard he was bleeding starlight.

Solidity spiraled away from Dream again, and they let out a hard breath. It was useless. Whatever meager control they had maintained since their escape was slipping from them. It was pointless to pretend otherwise any longer. Or to pretend that they could truly offer Hob the form he was accustomed to.

“Matthew,” Dream said, and Matthew hopped to attention. “I have some business I must attend to. Please leave me now.”

“Are you sure—?”

Dream waved a hand and sent him back to the palace.

If it was impossible for them to consistently return to their prior state, then at least they should be done with it now. Show Hob what he was truly dealing with. That Dream was not what he thought. Or wanted. Then, at least, they would spare themselves any greater heartbreak.

Wrapping the barest trappings of their usual form around them like an ill-fitting coat, Dream stepped into the Waking.

~~~

Dream emerged directly onto Hob’s bed as a formless shadow. It felt good, to be formless. Normally, they did like to take a form, but to choose recently had been taxing.

Hob was awake and reading. Dream had been meant to come for dinner, and was late. When Dream appeared in a sudden fall of darkness, Hob shrieked and flung his book at them on instinct. It simply passed through Dream with no effect.

“Dream?” said Hob, gasping, the spike in his adrenaline clear. “Is that you, love? Somehow? Or am I about to get eaten?”

Those do not preclude each other, Dream said. Though as they were still a shadow, their voice was more a low rumbling vibration than a true voice.

“Not sure how I understood that,” said Hob. He tilted his head, trying to make out features in the darkness but not, Dream thought, managing it. “Always kind of knew you were more than you seemed,” he added. “Didn’t quite picture this, though.”

It is but one form I am capable of holding, Dream said. Strictly speaking, it was not quite a form at all. As they said it, they shifted, unconsciously, until they were the beam of lamplight caressing Hob’s face—Hob’s hand chased them across his own cheek—and then the lulling hum of traffic, comforting night sounds. Hob kept reaching for them, not quite knowing where he was reaching. And Dream slipped into his daydreams, his vision for what Dream’s many forms might be.

Hob’s daydreams were a comfortable place to land. Warm. Welcoming. And when Dream emerged, they were a thing of Hob’s imagining, something dark and shadowed and multi-faceted but ultimately. Touchable.

That was what Hob desired of them?

“Okay,” said Hob, “what actually is going on here? Are you okay?”

Dream did not reply, stuck on Hob’s daydreams. He did not wish for Dream to force themselves back into their usual form. He merely molded what Dream brought him into a form that was comprehensible to him.

Relief crashed over Dream, magnitudes greater than the dread they had refused to acknowledge. They knew, now, that they had truly expected this to be the end. To scare Hob off. But Hob did not seem to be scared.

“Dream?” Hob reached a careful hand toward them. He pet down Dream’s flank. Fur that was soft because he was touching it. He huffed an incredulous laugh. “Wow. It really is… you.”

“In some fashion,” said Dream.

“In some fashion,” Hob repeated. “In what fashion, exactly?”

Instead of answering, Dream butted their head into Hob’s shoulder. Following the relief of his touch, so much softer and more detailed, now that they did not have the barrier of a stifling form in the way.

“Darling,” Hob said, petting Dream’s hair, “need words.”

“No,” Dream mumbled petulantly. And Hob allowed them their petulance. Dream let out a long breath. It blew warm over Hob’s throat, and Dream felt him shiver. They trailed fingertips up Hob’s ribcage, along bare skin, feeling the stacked solidity of his bones. Hob shivered again.

“It’s like that, is it?” he said.

Dream shifted closer, half slither, half crawl, until their form, incomprehensible even to themselves, was draped over Hob’s lap. Bliss, there, the warmth of him. “You are not repelled?”

“By the ten arms? I think I can cope.” He pressed his lips in close to Dream’s ear. “In fact. I had a dream about this the other night. Well.” He laughed. “I guess I’m having a Dream about it now, eh?”

“Did you?” said Dream, ears pricking up. Had their… moods slipped into Hob’s dreams?

“Can’t remember the details,” Hob said. “But I remember how it felt.” He trailed fingertips up the bony knobs of Dream’s spine. Unlike Dream at the moment, Hob only had two arms, but Dream felt every press of his fingers acutely.

“How did it feel?” they whispered.

“Like,” Hob murmured, lips to Dream’s jaw now, “you were everywhere. Like I got into your body and made love to you from the inside out.”

The thought made all of the strange and varied nerves of Dream’s shifting body stand on end. They wrapped legs around Hob’s waist, arms around his shoulders. Scraped sharp teeth over his pulse. “Really?”

Hob laughed. “Interested now, are you?”

“Yes,” Dream rumbled, their form flickering in excitement, to shadow then a falling rainbow of light, to a mass of vines that wound all around Hob’s body, and then into roots, as if they could grow into Hob, then branching veins pulsing and racing with Hob’s heartbeat, then back to a morass of half-body, half-shadow, because yes, they wanted to be held by Hob, they must remember that.

Hob was still for several moments, then laughed incredulously. “Okay. You’re so cool. I don’t know what to do with any of that, so I’m going to have to wing it.”

He traced a hand along the soft feathers of a wing that had grown with his words. Dream shuddered. A sensitive part of the body, indeed.

“You’re gorgeous,” Hob murmured. “My strange creature.”

Dream purred in pleasure, wrapping their wings around Hob’s back, mouth catching on the edge of his jaw, and, incredibly, felt Hob growing hard under them, as he would if Dream lounged in his lap and mouthed at his jaw as a human.

“You like this,” Dream said, unable to keep the surprise from their voice.

Hob chuckled. “Didn’t you know I fell for you the second I saw the spark of the otherworldly in your eyes? Just didn’t know the whole of what I was looking at. Not then.”

The spark of the otherworldly. “You are in love with dreams.”

“Figured it out by now, yeah.”

“You are. In love. With this,” Dream said, voice echoing from more than one throat, choked up.

“With this? You mean with you?”

“I do not know quite what I am, now,” Dream admitted.

“Well,” said Hob, slipping a hand between them. Dream gasped in pleasure, wings fluttering involuntarily. “You want to find out?”

Squirming against his hand, Dream said, “Do you even know what it is you are touching?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Hob said cheerfully. “Made you go all shivery, though.”

It had. It was. Dream writhed in his lap as Hob experimented, moaned in startled pleasure, toes curling. Body shifting to hurtle towards that arousal. Hob startled as his hand was suddenly enveloped in heat, something he could press into, and Dream whined, so full all at once with no prelude, body twisting out of control without their explicit direction. But it was good.

Hob gripped them by one wing—these had stayed even as Dream’s form continued to spin—and Dream quivered as Hob pulled them closer, pressing his hand deeper into slick heat. He was grinning against Dream’s throat, scraped light teeth over his pulse, sucked a bruise there. Dream’s form rode the wave of his daydreams, provided a wet mouth for him to bite and kiss as soon as he thought of it. Dream tangled long fingers in his hair, claws digging in.

“Can I fuck you like this?” Hob breathed against his lips.

“If you can cope with me changing on you,” Dream said. “I am not. Entirely in control. At the moment.”

A shameful admission, but Hob groaned as if it was the hottest thing he could think of. “I get to have you multiple ways at once? Oh, how will I manage?”

Dream laughed. It may have been a bit teary. Their many hearts were racing, lungs stuttering for air. Wings shivered, feathers fluttering. A long, furred tail wound its way up Hob’s back to wrap lightly around his throat, possessive. Dream would not let this man go now. Could not.

“Budge up, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” Hob said, probing deeper under Dream’s form with his hand, the other still firm on Dream’s wing, which he seemed to have understood was very sensitive, and intended to press that advantage as much as he could.

The touch of Hob’s hand, in Dream, on them, around them, was bliss. Dream wished to be full of him again. To, as Hob had dreamt, be made love to from the inside out.

Riding that hope, their body shaped another hole for his questing fingers. Hob obligingly pressed his fingers in, but said, “Regrettably, darling, I’ve only got one cock, and I had other plans for my hands.”

“Regrettable, indeed,” said Dream, and Hob laughed. Then, “Plans?”

“Oh, yes. I expect some other interesting things may crop up, eh? Need hands free.” He leaned in close to Dream’s ear, which flicked toward him to listen. “I’m going to find every erogenous zone on this body and make it scream.”

Goosebumps broke out all over Dream’s body. They clung to Hob with every limb they could find. Hob grinned wickedly at this reaction. It was a look Dream knew well, one that always boded very well for them indeed.

Hob worked Dream open on two fingers—though he need not, Dream was already wet and gaping for him—then maneuvered his sleep shorts off, took his cock in hand and stroked it twice, hand slick with Dream’s fluids. Then he lifted Dream bodily and sank them back down on his cock.

Dream whined, careening up several registers, as they were filled so suddenly, as they took Hob to the base. Hob groaned at the feeling of their body. Dream tried to adjust to him but couldn’t, Hob’s cock pressed on sensitive spots deep within them, and any time they thought they’d gotten used to the feeling their body produced a new place to torment.

They clawed at Hob’s back, leaving red lines with sharp fingers. Hob gave an experimental thrust, shifting Dream in his lap, and Dream bit down on a scream as their body lit up, chasing the feeling, loving it, magnitudes more affected than in their usual, limited form.

“Wow,” Hob said, fond laughter in his voice, and heat too, as Dream panted wetly in his ear, “this is going to be fun. Have you been all worked up, my darling? Just needed someone to give you what you really need?”

“Needed you,” Dream murmured. They clenched around Hob, tried to steady themselves, but it only made things worse. Everywhere deep inside them was searing flame, their skin-feathers-fur prickly with static, they feared and needed Hob’s touch in equal measure. To soothe. To set alight.

Hob slipped a hand into the other space Dream had left to tempt him, probing deep. Dream bit down on his ear, drawing spots of blood. Hob drew his hand back, met one of Dream’s many eyes. Licked Dream’s fluids from his hand.

Dream lunged forward to kiss him, whimpering into Hob’s mouth as that drove them impossibly deeper onto Hob’s cock. Hob pulled them close, kissed them hard, caught a fistful of Dream’s hair and pulled. Dream’s body decided that it liked that very much, indeed. They whined at the grip, clawing at Hob’s skin with many hands.

Hob brought them close with a firm hand, bounced Dream in his lap, moving them on and off his cock. Dream wailed, overstimulated by all the angles of his touch, torn between pulling away and diving closer as Hob swept his tongue into their mouth, over sharp teeth and soft palate.

“There’s a love,” Hob breathed. “Does that feel good, darling?”

Dream couldn’t offer a reply, and Hob didn’t wait for one. He dug his fingers into the tight feathering of Dream’s wing and tugged. Dream shrieked, wings flapping wildly, sets of them bursting along their back, more, more, less, more. Hob didn’t let up, stroking his fingers through the feathers, dragging over soft skin, sucking on Dream’s throat all the while.

Dream saw white, their body seized up, and the nebulous hole Hob was using to fuck them morphed into a mouth.

Hob yelped to suddenly feel his cock grazing over shielded teeth. Then he laughed. “Don’t you dare bite my dick off, you menace. It’s horrible to regrow it.”

Dream would have asked how he knew that, except Hob’s cock was down their throat. They choked, swallowing around him. Dream did not need to breathe, and so the pressure was exquisite. Their long tongue wrapped around Hob to the base, caressed his balls. Explored further, along his perineum, to probe at his entrance, and then press in.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck—” Hob’s voice was a strangled shout. “Dream what the actual fuck are you doing?” It didn’t sound like a complaint.

I am fucking you with my tongue, Dream said, a hum directly from their form to Hob’s.

“I can bloody well tell, Jesus Mary and—”

Dream purred and rumbled in pleasure, the satisfaction of taking and being taken at once, of being inside their beloved and having Hob inside them in turn. As Hob had dreamt.

Hob’s fingers pressed into Dream. Dream’s form gave and made places for him to press into. Hob’s fingers tickled deep within them, starlight and heat tracking their path. Dream swirled in an indefinite vortex of shape, a hundred things at once, their body prickling all over with the pleasure of Hob’s touch.

Hob twisted against them, clenching down on their tongue, shouted “Dream!” and came down Dream’s throat. Dream swallowed him down in pleasure, retracted their tongue from Hob’s body, eliciting a long moan. They let Hob pull out, and licked the final taste of Hob from their lips before letting that mouth disappear into their form, the traces of Hob consumed.

And then Hob flipped them, somehow manhandled Dream’s indefinite form down to the mattress, pressed down immovably on legs and arms and wings so that the softest parts of Dream’s body were bared to him. Dream reached for him, always they reached for him, cock hard and straining, cunt aching, the slashes of their being weeping for Hob to come inside. Always weeping. They cried out, every inch of them trembling for Hob’s touch.

“You gorgeous nightmare,” Hob said. “You brilliant daydream. Oh, my darling, I love you so much. I’d do anything for you. Anything. But mostly I want to do this.”

He pressed his mouth to where Dream’s body strained for him.

Hob had a very talented and generous mouth, which Dream had blessedly been on the receiving end of many times. This was different: Dream’s form echoed out Hob’s touch, replicated it a hundred times over so every crevice of their body could feel the flat swipe of his tongue, how he drank Dream’s fluids down, the drag of his stubble over lips and folds and the soft skin of thighs. Dream’s many limbs trembled, bent, reformed themselves in ecstasy, they dragged at Hob’s hair, pressing his face deeper so Dream could grind against him, which only made Hob grin.

Hob pressed two fingers into Dream’s mouth and Dream greedily sucked on them, grounding themselves. Taking Hob in more than one way at once… yes. That was what they wanted. They closed their many eyes and gave themselves over to sensation. Hob’s mouth and tongue, the taste of him, the weight of his body as he bent Dream on the bed, his scent, musk and the woodsmoke that seemed to cling to him all these years later—or perhaps that was only in dreams.

They were a dream of completion. They were a dream of ecstasy. Of flight. Hob’s hand tangled in their fragile feathers. Hob’s mouth and fingers inside them. Then Hob plunged three fingers hard, deep within them, as he sucked on Dream’s clit, and with a piercing noise like glass shattering Dream came.

They were. Fragments. The individual colors splayed wide by a prism. Red, yellow, blue. Hob’s fingers trailed through them, blending the colors like paint in water. For several moments Dream drifted, more thought than being. Distantly aware of Hob’s weight on them. It felt… like kindness. Then they floated back to the present, light as the first flight of unfurled moth wings.

Hob was lying on them, looking at them, head tilted. A twinkle in his eyes. He skated his hands up Dream’s sides. Flowers bloomed in the wake of his touch, their soft petals shivering with sensitivity. Hob plucked one of the flower buds and, holding Dream’s gaze, ate it. Swallowed it. Dream watched the movement of his throat.

Inside out, he thought.

“Broke you into pieces,” Hob said then, with satisfaction. “Think I might have seen God for a sec there. Can do better, though.”

“Better?” Dream echoed, voice hoarse. Their form shifted, still, but slowly, languidly. No longer restless. A dark wing draped over Hob’s back. A tail played with his hair. He didn’t seem to mind.

“There’s so much we can do with this,” he said. He gazed at Dream, fond, terribly knowing. “Only getting started, love. I love—” he kissed Dream’s belly, a light, ghosting touch, and tickled Dream’s side with his fingertips— “how sensitive you are like this.”

“I—” Dream started. Absent the writhing need, now they just felt… stripped. Vulnerable. “I expected that you would. Not. Like this. It is not. Human.”

“Neither are you,” Hob pointed out.

“I appear so,” Dream said.

Hob snorted. “No, you don’t.”

Dream stared at him, unable to decide whether or not to be offended.

“I wear the guise of a human,” they insisted, and, to prove it, morphed back into the form that Hob would know as his lover. It was an easier coat to wear, now that they knew they could take it off.

“No, keep the wings,” Hob complained. “Those are cool.”

Dream obligingly returned wings to their form.

“I appear human, to you,” they insisted again.

“Dream, I say this with all the love in my heart, which is quite a lot because I do. Love you.” He leaned on his hand, looking at Dream with sparkling eyes. “You look about as human as a kid wearing a bedsheet looks like a ghost.”

Dream stared at him, mouth agape.

“Don’t worry, it’s a gorgeous costume,” Hob said. “Love it. Really, really do. But I could always tell that wasn’t the whole truth of the matter. Especially once I got close.” With this, he winked.

“A part of me is human,” Dream said. Had Hob truly always seen through them? Paid so close attention as to perceive the translucence of the mask? “For I am the dreams of humanity.”

“And a part of you isn’t,” said Hob. “For—” he mimicked the cadence of Dream’s speech, though not in a mocking way— “you are also the dreams of birds, and shadows, and stars.”

Dream nodded. “These and more.”

“Brilliant,” said Hob.

Brilliant, Dream thought.

Then Hob tilted his head, thinking back. “You expected me not to like that?”

“Recently,” said Dream slowly, “I found I could not maintain this form without pain. And so my hand was forced.” It hurt still, to think of. “I had no choice but to make my true form—or rather, my true formlessness—known to you if I wished to be here at all.”

Hob pushed himself up from where he was lying on Dream’s chest, and instead straddled his hips so he could take Dream’s face between his hands. “It hurts?” he demanded.

“At times,” said Dream. “More so. Since.” They didn’t finish the sentence.

“Why are you doing it now, then?”

“It does not hurt so much now,” Dream said. “It is simply that when I stay static, it begins to. Ache.”

“Ache,” Hob repeated, looking stricken. “Dream, if it hurts, then change back. Be a chimera or whatever the hell you were doing before.”

“That is how you interpreted it?”

“To be honest, I don’t think my brain was really interpreting it at all. You were just kind of… everything.” He stroked a fingertip along the fine bone of Dream’s wing, which was folded against their back now. “Did like the wings, though.”

“I’d noticed that.”

“Cheeky.” Hob shook himself. “Getting distracted. The point is, don’t hurt yourself. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself.” He tipped his head against Dream’s, lips to their skin. “Much rather see you how were today.”

“How?”

“Letting go. Enjoying yourself.” He smirked, Dream felt it against their temple. “Making all kind of lovely noises. Squealing. Shrieking—”

“I was not shrieking.”

“You were shrieking.”

Hob tickled his fingers through Dream’s feathers, and Dream made an embarrassing squeak. They smacked Hob in the face with that wing, and Hob burst out laughing, even though he had to pull a feather out of his teeth.

“I love you,” he said. “Don’t hurt yourself. Be... the indefinably strange creature that you are. And just trust me to keep up.”

Hob kissed them lightly on the lips. Dream leaned into him, made still for a moment by the depth of Hob’s care for them, how Hob caught all of their longing and swallowed it, kept it warm. How he loved Dream. And dreams.

Hob drew them both down to the bed, and the covers over them, and Dream let their other forms creep out, hesitant, but hungry for Hob’s affection. And a creature that was the sky’s dream of nightfall and the poetry of rain upon a still lake, that was the individual patterns of snowflakes and the sculptures built of their drifts, that was ambitious owl and frightened vole, quiet soil and its thoughtful worms, shape and narrative and human, too, of course, laid down its many heads, and curled its much-loved wings over its lover, and rested in his dreams.

[enchantzz]

I tried something new. Writing a Middle Earth story about young Fili and Kili and Uncle Thorin. I was inspired by this amazing piece of art by @sugarsu Here is the link to the original post. If you like the artwork, please consider reblogging the original post as well.

In the woods of Ered Luin

Summary: Uncle Thorin is taking care of young Fili and Kili and they visit the woods in the area of Ered Luin, The Blue Mountains. Just a lot of fluff and a somewhat anxious Thorin at times, but we all know the boys, so we can't really blame him ��

divider created by me

It was still early, but Fili and Kili had already been running around since their eyes had opened to a beautiful day in Ered Luin. Dis and Thorin were sitting at the kitchen table, quietly drinking their coffee and listening to the chatter and laughter of the boys. Thorin usually didn’t have a lot of time, so he valued these family moments very much.

Thorin had offered to spend the day with his little nephews. His dear sister Dis had gratefully accepted the offer and looked forward to having some time to herself. But as soon as Thorin had offered to take the boys, next to excitement a little pang of fear hit him. What mayhem would he encounter this fine day? Nothing ever did not happen, something always did.

Thorin mustered up his courage and got up to fetch the boys. When he saw a heap of pebbles, blankets, pillows and a cat on top of it, he wondered what had happened in the few minutes he had taken his eyes off of them. Shaking his head, he said, 'Come on boys, get your coats, put on your boots.’

The heap of blankets, pillows, pebbles and cat immediately came apart and two pairs of eyes looked at him questioningly. 'Where are we going uncle Thorin?' they asked. 

“You’ll see. Now come on, get ready,’ he told them.

Not long after, they entered the forest near the Blue Mountains. It was a beautiful day so far, but the big furry clouds in the distance promised some well deserved rain for the plants and wildlife in the forest. The leaves were softly rustling in the breeze, birds were chirping and singing, insects buzzing. The forest was so full of life, yet so peaceful. 

Kili was jumping and running around. There was so much to see. Flowers, plants, little rocks, insects. Thorin smiled. That boy never seemed to run out of energy. Fili was usually much more reserved and quiet. He was walking alongside Thorin, observing the woods, asking him all kinds of questions and Thorin was answering them patiently.

‘What animals will we see today uncle Thorin?’ Fili asked. ‘Will there be moose? And wolves? What about bunnies? Oh look, uncle Thorin, what kind of bird is that?’ his little fingers pointing at a bird with a bright red chest, singing its morning song on one the branches of a big oak tree.

Thorin cringed at the idea of encountering a wolf and the pebbles being in danger, but he didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, for Kili came running up to him. 

‘Look uncle Thorin, look what I have!’ he exclaimed enthusiastically. He was holding something in his tiny hands, careful not to drop it. Thorin crouched down. ‘What have you got there little man?’ 

Kili opened his little hands and a black spider crawled out. ‘You can have it uncle Thorin,’ he said proudly and with a big grin on his face. ‘I fetched it for you.’

Oh dear, how to get himself out of that situation.

‘I think the spider is …,’ he started

‘Ciaran’,  Kili said.

‘What?’ Thorin looked at Kili, confused.

‘It’s name is Ciaran,’ Kili explained.

Thorin raised his eyebrows at that and scratched his beard. Wow, he had only just found the spider and it already had a name as if it were part of the family and needed to be taken up in the Durin family tree.

The new addition to the line of Durin was quickly forgotten though, when a rustle of leaves alerted Thorin and he looked in the direction of the sound. The word ‘wolves’ still fresh in his mind, he grabbed Kili and told him to be quiet. He checked on Fili, who was crouching down beside Thorin, imitating his uncle and all three of them looked in the direction of the moving bushes nearby.

A little spooked by Fili’s question about wolves, Thorin wished that he had brought his sword. He held his breath, but he sighed with relief when a deer and a fawn appeared and not a big bad wolf. 

‘Oh look uncle Thorin,’ Kili pointed at the fawn, ‘A baby deer! Can we go pet it?’ he asked excitedly.

‘No, Kili,’ Thorin said, ‘They are erm … having breakfast. It’s best to leave them be.’ 

Kili sighed disappointedly and Thorin chuckled.

‘Come on boys, let’s go about our way. There is a stream not far from here.’ 

That also got Fili excited and both pebbles ran ahead, their chatter and laughter echoing between the trees. It warmed Thorin 's heart to see them so excited and happy. With a smile on his face, he followed his nephews in the direction of the stream. 

The clouds, which had seemed so far away at the start of their walk, now gathered above them, hiding the sun and making the forest a little darker. Drops of rain started to fall and the calming sound of the raindrops falling on the foliage and the fresh smell of wet earth had a calming effect on Thorin. All anxiety about wolves forgotten. 

He loved the woods, the sounds, the smells. He filled his lungs with a deep breath of fresh air and for a moment closed his eyes and held his face up to the sky, the fresh rain drops gently falling on his face, his beard and his long, dark hair, which was held back with a beautiful handcrafted clip in the form of a raven. 

He stood there, enjoying the moment, but then, at once, snapped back to reality. It had gone quiet. Even though shouting and noise usually didn’t mean anything good when the boys were concerned, neither did absolute silence. He quickened his pace and almost tripped over a boot and another one and another. He followed the trail of boots, picking them up. Apparently, the boys had decided that they no longer needed those. 

He approached the stream and saw Fili crouched down, his blue cape over his head and his chin resting in the palm of his hand.  Kili was perched on his hands and knees on a flat stone in the stream.  They were studying a black bird which was hopping from stone to stone in the stream. The bird paused, sat on a stone and curiously turned its head from side to side, seemingly as curious as the boys. It was altogether a peaceful sight, the dripping sound of the raindrops making little circles in the water, the gently flowing stream, and the boys watching the bird, watching the boys.

Thorin crouched down next to Fili and put his big hand on Fili’s tiny shoulder. So that’s why the little rascals had gone quiet, he thought and smiled.

‘Can we keep him uncle?' Kili asked, breaking the silence. ‘Can we take him home so that we can show him to amad?’

‘No my dear boy, your mother wouldn’t be very happy if you took a bird home. It lives here, in the forest, you know. This is its home.  Everyone and everything has its own place in this world and the woods is where the bird belongs. It would be sad if it had to leave his home. You don’t want it to be sad, do you?’

Thorin heard himself say the words and for a moment sadness hit him. His thoughts went to Erebor, his home, where he belonged and which he had been forced to leave and for which he longed with all his heart. One day, he would return to the Lonely Mountain. He was sure of it.

He didn’t have long to think about it, because a frog hopped out of the water, onto the stone chasing off the bird. 

Kili giggled and reached for the frog. ‘Can we take …’ he started.

‘No, Kili, we can’t take the frog home either,’ Thorin said sternly, but he had a hard time keeping a straight face. Kili seemed to want to take home every animal and insect he encountered. Thorin was sure that Dis wouldn’t appreciate a zoo in her home. 

After a moment, Thorin got up and said, ‘Come on boys, put your boots back on. Let’s go see if amad has something nice to fill your bellies ok? You must be hungry after all these adventures.’ 

With that, the frog was all about forgotten, the boys hurried to put their boots on and off they went with Thorin in tow. Thorin was quietly enjoying the walk back home, while Kili and Fili chased after butterflies, found treasures - read 'stones' - along the way, chased each other and left Thorin wondering if he, Frerin and Dis had ever had the same amount of energy as these two boys. 

The rain had stopped, the sun had broken through the clouds, its rays illuminating the way home and he couldn’t have been more relaxed.

By the time they got home, Thorin was quite proud of himself that so far, the day had passed without any incidents and mayhem under his supervision. He was grateful for the family time, but also, deep down, grateful to be handing them back over to their mother, his dear sister, whom he admired more and more, every time he looked after the boys.  But also deep down, he longed for another day with his nephews, whom he loved as if they were his own sons.

If you liked the story, please know that I appreciate reblogs and comments very much 💜

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list.

@linasofia @lathalea @laurfilijames @guardianofrivendell @legolasbadass @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @i-did-not-mean-to @the-poldarkian @shiinata-library @annkdarar @frosticenow @blairsanne @sweetestgbye @kibleedibleedoo @turnitdownsometimes @deanwanddamons @aduialel @lordoftherazzles

[fanfoolishness]

Headcanons from the (first) Kashyyyk mission

So there was supposed to be an arc with the Batch on Kashyyyk in S7 of Clone Wars, but like Dark Disciple it didn’t get a chance. But I still like to think of the Batch each finding a moment on Kashyyyk where the war receded into the background, and they felt something new:

Wrecker has never seen trees like this. They soar up into the clouds, trunks the size of cruisers, villages spiraling up into the trunks. As the others scout ahead he rests his hand on a vast trunk, so large around its surface almost seems flat instead of curved. The wood beneath his palm feels invincible. For the first time in his life, he feels small in a way the steel and sea and rain of Kamino never had achieved.

Echo takes a deep breath. The smells of smoke on the battlefield, blaster fire and droid grease are thick on the ground, but behind that he catches gusts of a green and living scent rich and raw and real. Water mists on his face, cutting through the grime of battle. It’s nothing like the sterility of Skako Minor, and he breathes deeper, waiting for another hint of green.

Tech’s ears perk up at chatter in the trees. He’s adding fluency in Shyriiwook to his list of languages, filing away each growl and utterance in his mind, cross-referencing with his translator, putting it together. But Kashyyyk is a whirlwind of other sounds, too, and he catalogues and isolates each one as fast as he can in the downtime between the next assault. Spiders insects birds water leaves, the sounds of blaster fire in the distance mingling with the songs of night creatures in the lower canopies, the sighs and flows of the forest. His mind buzzes with it. He records three data cards’ worth of memory in two hours.

Hunter’s senses jangle, whole streams of information coming in through every sense he’s got. This place is absolutely exploding with life at every turn, and it’s a cacophony that takes him a few hours to acclimate to. But even when he’s got a handle on it, there’s still a buzz and a hum he feels more than hears, a webbing that’s got nothing to do with the giant spiders, a connection between… well, everything. It’s a pulse in the soil from tree to tree, the wind carrying animal calls and tree pollen alike, the crackle of mycelia deep in the soil underfoot. He could live here a dozen years and never untangle all of it. But he might like the challenge.

They might be supposedly safe here, but Crosshair still scans the environment, searching for signs of anything suspicious. His vision glides over bark in a dozen shades of brown and gray, smatters of jewel-bright mosses and lichens, vines in flowers of scarlet, violet, gold. There’s creatures, too, scampering furry things of tawny gold with tufted tails, the jet-black glitter of massive spider eyes, insects half the size of clankers with emerald wings and kaleidoscopic scales. The sky peeks through the ceiling of leaf and canopy, and for an instant, he catches just a glimpse across the blue: the silver shimmer of translucent feathers, the suggestion of enormous wingbeats, the shadow of a long and sinuous tail. His eyes sting. He blinks away the water from them, his chest feeling oddly light.

[dearestaeneas]

Pappappappappap.

Turn left. Up three slats. Forward for a bit. Hang a right.

Ancient drywall dust speckled the ground at his paws, the wood old and dry and at risk for splintering. It was an absolute playground.

The rat did not know this, but the house had been abandoned for years. On the other side of the wall sat dusty furniture and heavily graffitied wallpaper, empty glass bottles, and general litter. The town had debated knocking it over, putting up a parking lot, but decided against it.

There wasn’t even a shopping mall. What would we need the lot for?

So there the house remained. Abandoned and unloved by humans. The teens who hid in the leaf-filled kitchen to smoke after school did not love the house, with its 3 floors and creaky stairs. The college students who appeared each Thanksgiving night to drink and reminisce, pretending they were anything other than babies in the world did not love the house’s study, home to an elderly desk that no one cared enough to look in. The rats and birds and insects and squirrels did not see the need for the money, or the books, or the gold watch that still, despite it all, ticked.

Pappappappappap.

His little feet pounded ever forward, his little round body squeezing effortlessly upwards between wooden planks.

The little rat, with his round body and busy feet, loved the house. He did not care about the once-expensive looking rugs, or the elegant, but stained, crown molding, and he did not care about the ornate door knobs. The little rat, in no particular order, loved these things about the house:

He loved the still-somewhat-silver silverware that sat in a kitchen drawer for the noise it made when he scurried over them (knives make for a particularly pleasant noise, with their flat edges that slide off of one another).

He loved the bookshelves that lined the walls of most of the rooms, because they made for excellent perches to sit on to survey the floor (not to mention that if one of the books could be knocked over, a page could be taken for a nest with incredible ease).

He loved the plushies left behind in one of the smaller upstairs rooms. There was one that looked like him! Although this was not his favorite (that honor belonged to a little brown bear, who lay on his back, leaving his stomach open for the most wonderful of naps), it pleased him. A mirror had been knocked off the bathroom cabinet and shattered, its shards sparkling on the floor. The little rat tended to avoid that room, knowing simply that the little silver points were bad news, and not needing more information than that. However, he had not come to this conclusion without first exploring the room, for the initial shattering had mimicked the pleasant sounds of the silverware, but times a thousand. He was intrigued by the other little round-bodied rat who looked back at him from one of the shards. He hoped he was not lonely in there.

But the little rat did not love the house for what it contained. Its contents were beneficial and made life interesting and wonderful, but he would have loved the house if it were vacant and cold and bare and boring. The little rat loved the house because it was his home, and because his home loved him.

His home protected him from the rain and the snow and the cold and the heat, his home kept him entertained and safe and happy. He needed nothing and wanted for less.

Pappappappappappap.

He wanted to do something nice for his home. But what did he have to offer? He couldn’t fix the leaky roof, or replace a cracked tile, couldn’t put a chair back upright or even change a lightbulb.

Ultimately, he decided the best way he could show his love would simply be to live in his home. His home would understand his limitations, while still seeing that the little rat stayed because he wanted to, and because staying was important to him.

He climbed higher and higher, ascending more and more wooden slats and boards, scurrying from opening to opening, until finally: a break in the wall.

Drywall parted, and the little rat felt himself becoming giddy. He inched forward, his little nose twitching furiously, his little black eyes boggling.

He panted slightly, having climbed all the way up to the second floor. A journey that would take a human seconds had taken him several minutes. He looked out from his little hole in the drywall to see the ancient chandelier at eye level. If he wanted, he could climb all the way to the very top, and look down onto the chandelier. He’d done this several times, and would, inevitably, do it again.

But there was something magical to being eye level with the sparkly glass. He would say nature played a cruel joke on him, leading him to his home and cursing him with his blurred vision, stopping him from admiring the intricate details of the crystal before him, but the simple problem with this is that he didn’t know any better, didn’t know there was a world outside of the outlines and colors he saw. He loved his home for its outlines and colors, for the way that the chandelier caught the light at certain hours of the day. He loved the sparkle of the rainbow that was cast about the entryway.

Nature was not cruel, nature did not punish him or play jokes. It loved him. It loved him the way he loved his home, it protected him and marveled at him and delighted in his joy.

He sat there, squeaking with great contentment as the sun went down and its rays caught the glass, bathing him and the home he loved in color.

[shattersstar]

A possessive kiss in the rain for Alucard (Castlevania) and reader

First time ever requesting! I love your writing and your series on alucard! Feel free to make a whole new thing or to even ignore this,no pressure! Thank you!

possessive kiss in the rain + adrian tepes x vampire!reader

a/n: did i use this as an excuse to include striga? yeah of course <33 but tyyy for the request along with ur kind words im v honoured 😌 and sorry for taking forever with this i did have a lot of fun writing it tho so i hope u enjoy!!

—

It was quiet, the sun setting around an hour ago and it was still quiet. Quiet when you climbed out of the caravan to find Sypha and Trevor building a fire, quiet when you took a seat against a tree—the speaker not too far behind, even quieter when Adrian made his way back to camp, finding the magician laying her head in your lap while you stared into the flames. Both the men in your company grumbled at the sight, though Trevor had long dozed off against a tree of his own, while Adrian beckoned you with his eyes. You rose without warning Sypha, she yelped and scolded your manners as she rose to dust herself off. Her words went over your head, you offered a half glance over your shoulder in response, but tensed at the sound of her calling Adrian’s name—his other name.

Alucard rolled off her tongue as easily as all the other humans who dubbed him so. You did your best not to roll your eyes at the title, brushing past the half vampire who bid goodbye to the humans you traveled with.

You both moved silently, the ambient scape of the forest filled the air—branches snapped and leaves crunched in the distance as birds sang above and insects trilled below. You had stayed hidden amongst the trees, but followed parallel to the path that led to a cattle village nearby. And if the horde moved as you all predicted, they were likely to pass over soon. A buffet of beef would surely bring them calling, but it was still too quiet. Animals should have scattered when the wind chilled, bringing the scent of rot and decay. The sky also had not clouded over with the mass of the night creatures, the moonlight still slit through the trees and danced on your skin.

Adrian’s pointed silence didn’t help, but you were too caught up in where the night creatures were to dwell on it. It was not like them to wait so long to show themselves, the sun had set over an hour ago now—maybe they were not here yet.

You were simply ahead of schedule, you settled on, wondering if Adrian had decided the same. You were going to ask him about the silence, about the calm—yet he seemed anything, but calm. When you glanced over your shoulder you could see the emotions swirling in his golden eyes, contemplating and consuming him. “Are you okay?” You asked suddenly, your voice was the loudest thing within miles it seemed.

“Sypha’s quite taken with you.” Adrian replied, and your brows shot up your face. You stayed quiet for sometime in front of the dhampir, trying to understand the root of his statement. Perhaps the question within it. Sypha’a affection and interest towards you was what he had been stewing on?

Was it…jealousy?

No. “She has never been around our kind before and now she has two wells of knowledge. It's the speaker side of her—the only side of her.” You sounded defensive, and you hated it, over a century alive on this earth and still unable to hide yourself from those feelings. The ones Adrian brought out in you with a simple stare.

“I suppose, she does interrogate me to no end.” You both laughed lightly at that. You felt a little easier, ready to move one when he spoke again, “She’s quite comfortable around you—honest around you.”

“Comfortable?!” Your anger surfaced too fast—you knew it the moment you whipped around and Adrian took half a step back. Jarred by your reaction and the glint of your fangs in the moonlight. You wanted to calm down, but it was too heavy, “You think she should be weary of me, scared Adrian? Its okay because you can go out in the sun and survive without blood, but, but I’m—“

“No my darling.” He never interrupted you, never broke that respect he offered so easily a lifetime ago, but he did this time with a hushed tone. It silenced you, jaw clenching as you looked away. You were never one for dramatics, not in front of him especially, but it burned something deep in your chest to feel even more alienated. Forced to see skulls of vampires in the Belmont’s hold—trophies and artifacts of loved ones neatly cataloged amongst the goodies you know the Belmont boy was dying to use on you.

Adrian was easy to stomach and you were the one to be scared of, the one who stayed hidden in the caravan during the days and unable to spend a minute at night alone without wild accusations about your whereabouts, motives or more being thrown around. It had calmed down in recent days, Sypha’s unbridled affection towards you may have been a part of that, but it could also be the nights spent on hunts. Just you and Adrian, the only person who would never judge you, never see your carnage and violence and think anything of it.

It was to ease the burden the two humans had been facing, nights spent clearing areas far and wide while they worked through the days. And to quell the restless Adrian sensed brewing in you. You had barely been sleeping during the days, staring into the brief glimpses of sunlight from the back of the covered wagon with dead eyes, spending the nights irritated and distant, which never helped whatever they may think of you.

But the distance, that helped. The time spent alone with Adrian, moments to feed and drink in peace on the unfortunate souls who didn’t manage to escape the horde. Adrian often collected canteens of blood for you, keeping them with his things and out of Trevor’s knowledge. You never questioned the secrecy, but did have to stop your eyes from widening in surprise when he first gave you one. You had never asked Adrian to do such a thing, to care and attend to you in his own silent ways.

It made your anger dissolve fully, he called your name after you let out an unneeded sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you so. I know it's difficult, I see it. I promise.” His hand met your cheek, cradling you for a soft second. You leaned into his touch before remembering the reason you were out here. You would find the words later, instead you kissed his palm before turning back to the path. He stayed by your side as best he could, sometimes drifting behind with the forest demanded so, but always within reach. It was only when a scream pierced somewhere in the distance Adrian slipped in front of you. You both leaned into your senses, and while you both located the source of the scream, you also caught a scent of something familiar.

Something from lifetimes ago that brought back memories from your human life. You tried to shake the sudden onslaught of emotions, you were always drowning in what you felt. Alive or dead your feelings consumed you wholly. Adrian had already taken off in the direction and while you tried to follow, that warm floral scent only grew stronger. You found yourself stopping and watching him vanish into the dark of the woods. You knew another vampire was nearby, and as you carefully followed the scent, you found yourself in a small clearing.

A woman, tall and broad, sat sharpening her large blade while you lurked in the tree line. You watched her, wondering why she was here when she called out.

“No need to hide.” Her voice carried on the wind and reminded you of home. You moved at lightning speed, appearing in front of her, your long cloak settling as the breeze from your movements fluttered her long hair.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Striga, one of four rulers of Styria.” She placed her blade against the log she sat upon, pushing herself up to her full towering height. The moonlight caught Striga's hair as she moved to stand next to you, and you couldn't deny the fact she was beautiful. Strong and powerful, but with the eyes of a lover. That kind that drew you in, saw into your soul and kissed the barest parts of your condemned spirit.

“Styria…” You whispered, it had been too many lifetimes ago since you had set foot on the shores of your birth place. And now, one of its vampire rulers stood in front of you, radiating that warm smell of jasmine and something indescribably citrus that reminded you of where you had grown up. You had left your past behind you, never returning to where you had been turned, not since you were free. Though, you had always hoped to catch that scent of Styria again and finally understand the complexities of its smell with your heightened senses. Yet you were still unable to place the adjectives that gave you a true answer to the intoxicating scent.

“You're the vampire traveling with the Belmont boy.” She was close enough that her arm brushed yours.

“I am.” You confirmed, while Striga raised a brow. Her strong arms crossed over her chest, black and purple armor amplifying her size.

“You ally yourself with the enemy.”

“I ally myself to Ad…Alucard, and if that’s the company he keeps, then it is the company I keep.” You explained, trying to ignore the bitterness at the sound of his other name.

She laughed, a low sound that made you smile involuntarily. “You’re quite something to be with a…half…thing like him.”

You laughed weakly, unable to gauge her tone. “Do you forget he’s the son of Dracula?” You inquired, scanning the tree line where just beyond night creatures howled and screeched.

“I suppose you have faith in him, leaving him to fight alone so you could speak to me.”

You didn’t reply, couldn’t muster a lie in response to what was an obvious statement. You both had lived long to know it wasn’t a question and that it was true. Striga intrigued you, standing tall and alone, and reminiscent of a life you had tried to forget. Her gorgeous purple robes were set against the royal blue sky streaked with orange as shards of leftover sunlight tangled in the thick evening clouds.

“I have heard such stories of his fighting.” Striga suddenly stated, the lit of her accent more noticeable with the casual cadence of her tone.

“Its breathtaking.” You found yourself murmuring, Adrian’s strength was always something to behold. His swiftness and keen eye, how he held his sword ever so carefully and cut many in half with more grace than a trained dancer. He was violence and art in motion. He was yours forever. It made you grin, small and fangs peaking out.

“You wear your affection on your face, he should be honoured to be cherished by someone as beautiful as you.”

“You speak like a true soldier, warrior even. Of honour and worth. It is a beautiful way to want.” You turned to face her, taking in her green eyes and the charm wrapped around a single braid in her hair. It was a long tousled mess of black waves that were half swept up. You noticed the glinting clip that held her hair back and wondered how a notorious commander would own such a thing. Perhaps it was a gift from a lover like the crystal bracelet you wore. Adrian had fastened it around your wrist one early morning. You were dozing in the caravan with him, listening to Sypha try to pry stories from Trevor while easily supplying her own. It was nice to fall asleep to the lull of their mindless talk while in Adrian’s arms. It was then he slipped it over your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a few soft kisses there before carefully slipping into the day.

“And how do you love him? If you do?”

You held her gaze, “You imply that I don’t?”

“I’m curious if you don’t.” She corrected with a simple nod. “I find you beautiful and interesting, it would be disheartening to know you are spoken for.”

“I am.”

“By a man who stands on the opposite of side the war?”

“It appears so.”

Striga turned her attention to the sky, appealing to the heavens as she spoke her next words.

“Then I apologize for any hurt I may cause you during this war. I’ll find you and apologize in person, repent for as long as I must.”

“That is, if you truly hurt me.”

“No, I would find you anyways.”

You chuckled, “Why?”

“To see if you are still in love.” Striga shrugged her broad shoulders, the words almost too casual as if she knew something you did not. It made you nervous, another half laugh escaping your lips before you turned back towards the tree line. “You do love him?” She inquired, shifting closer. A moment of silence passed before a howl broke through the woods. Inhuman and sending a flock of birds into the night sky. You followed them with your gaze.

“I try not too.” You answered honestly, watching the winged creatures disappear into another part of the dense forest. Adrian was far too great for this world to be yours. You were a lowly vampire turned by a lonely widow who needed company more than blood. She begged and begged until she stopped taking no for an answer and turned you in your sleep. You woke up screaming and sobbing, a life robbed by someone who didn’t even end up wanting you. Her guilt consumed her whole, she had doomed you to the same life she wanted reprieve from and choose to let the church find and kill her. She left you alone, and you wanted to spend eternity just like that.

But you and Adrian had found each other, lonely in your own torrential ways. You had never met someone like him before, someone caught between two worlds you had given up on entirely. Adrian brought something to quell the loneliness of your cursed existence, and for that companionship, you’d follow him anywhere.

You would accept death at the hands of his father if it meant stopping the bloodshed as Adrian wanted. You had nothing, but your entire self to give to him. Maybe besides the knowledge from the life you lived and the sword on your hip. He could have something more normal, more human than you, if that’s what he so wanted from his life. You had always understood that, accepted that and tried to love him a little less in spite of it all.

Yet, your heart bled for him in ways you had never known in your brief human life, and forever stretching vampiric one. It was almost painful, how much you craved him. And almost, almost, was more powerful than the lust for blood that fueled your existence.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear “ Striga’s soft voice broke you from your thoughts, reality crashing down as Adrian stood, panting, at the edge of the clearing. He was across from you, hunched forward slightly, and hand on his blade. “I will be seeing you, soon I pray.” Striga hummed, bringing your attention to her face as she grabbed your bare hand with her gloved one. She brought your knuckles to her lips, placing a chaste kiss all while her sea green eyes bored into yours.

You opened your mouth to respond, but she vanished into the night before your hand reached your side. You pivoted back towards Adrian, walking in his direction at a steady pace, while your gaze fell to your feet. You focused on each step, one foot in front of the other, until his hands jumped to your biceps and stopped you in place.

You were about a foot from him, head tilting from the ground to meet his angry gaze. Adrian dropped his hands from you, letting silence wash over you two as the forest’s din became too loud in your ears.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, anything to cut the silence and tension along with it.

Adrian shifted his weight, the sunny yellow of his eyes was a deep amber in the dark of night. “Why were you here?”

“I could smell a vampire, and investigated.”

“Investigated!?” His tone inflected with the anger he normally kept at bay.

“She was from Styria and I-I was curious. Is that wrong?” You were finding your ground, steadying your voice as challenge lingered in your tone.

You two never fought, not like this.

“Was it wrong to leave me—“

“You are more than capable, we both know that Adrian.” You snapped, you would not be guilted into seeing him as helpless. Adrian was anything, but that.

“Why did she kiss your hand?” Your angered confidence faltered, your gaze softening as something…sad bled into his voice. Something cold and lonely you knew well.

“I don’t know.”

His jaw clicked, and in an instant he was in your space, fangs flashing because he couldn’t help it, as his fingers grasped your jaw. He stared into your eyes and asked you again. Perhaps it was the proximity, or your own ego dying down, but you saw through him so clearly. So easily, as you always had, and understood.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, as the looming clouds finally began to cry soft tears of rain.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Against your clothes, it wasn’t torrential, but that misty rain that made everything hazy.

“She was interested in me, she complimented me and asked about you—us. She reminded me of a place I called home ages ago but my love, she is not you.” Maybe it was jealousy earlier when Adrian asked about Sypha, but regardless it definitely was now. You were unsure how he could think such things when you felt so unworthy of him, and he was worried about a woman you met once. Yes she was beautiful, and carried power and confidence like it was given to her by god, but she was not the man you loved.

The one you had swore yourself to, one you killed for and one you would gladly die for if he so much as asked. His grip faltered, eyelids shuddering as your soft explanation washed over him like the rain. With a voice barely above a whisper on the wind you continued, “I never have nor will I give myself to someone like I have you, Adrian. I would do anything at your behest. Anything beloved.” You pressed your hands against his torso, clinging to the fabric of his coat as best you could.

“Anything?” He rasped, like speaking was a chore he had no capacity for.

“I’d burn worlds down or build them up if you asked. I’d kill the Belmont boy or give my life for his if you asked. I’d lock myself away and never speak to anyone but you if that’s what you wanted. Yes, my love, anything.”

“Just let me kiss you.” Adrian’s mouth met yours before you could answer, but you both knew it was a yes. It was more teeth and fang than anything at first, as the momentum of his body slamming into yours, sent you reeling back a step before one of his hands moved to your waist. Your hands slipped up his chest, fingers still clutching the fabric before one of your hands tangled into his hair. Fingers toying with the golden lock that cascaded down his back.

Adrian still had one hand cradling your jaw, keeping you in place as he kissed you with enough desire to make you delirious. Your mouths moved together, his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He wasn’t usually like this, bold and desperate, but you would let Adrian kiss and hold you however he needed. To let the jealousy spiral through his system and find release in your lips against his.

You smiled against his mouth, nails scraping deliciously through his hair before his tongue found yours. You were faintly aware of the rain, starting to beat down heavier with each second you spent lost in each other's embrace. Adrian finally pulled away, letting his thumb smooth over your chin before finding the other side of your waist. You let both your arms wrap around his neck, stealing soft kisses as the thunder grew louder. You knew you would have to go back soon, but Adrian was still preoccupied with leaving open mouth kisses against yours, pulling back slightly before deciding he still needed more. It was more tender, what you were used to from him. Chasing your lips, a few soft pecks turning into something more heated before he would start the cycle again.

You played with his hair and felt his fingers twitch against your side as the darkness clouding his beautiful expression softened. Adrian stopped his assault of kisses, dropping his head to the curve of your neck. You kissed the top of his head, fingers slipping out of his hair.

“I love you.” You murmured, such sentiments felt a little too human and empty for you. And you did love him, but it was just more than that. He still said it to you often, and you were easy to repeat the sentiment, but you rarely offered it on your own. It was no reflection of him, it was just your distance from humanity you could never get back. But you knew Adrian needed to hear it.

“I love you too darling.” He hummed against your skin, leaving a kiss there before standing at his full height. You stared at him for a moment, the want still clear in his eyes as he tucked you against his side. You walked through the forest with clasped hands, the thick trees keeping out some of the rain, not that you cared.

You both had faster means of returning to camp, but pressed against Adrian who occasionally left kisses on the fabric by your shoulder or brought your intertwined hands to his lips, was enough to forget about the storm. Adrian engulfed you and drowned you in ways the rain never could, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[strange-august]

Tag Yourself as Aesthetics I resonate with

Changelingcore: Broken insect wings, wildflower meadows, catching tadpoles, lingering mist after it rains, wet shoes from the damp grass, the feeling of moss under your hands, collection of strange trinkets and objects, taking your stuffed animals on adventures, doodling on your clothes, busy hands, wading knee deep into a lake, screaming into the air to ease frustration, organizing and reorganizing your treasures, bird calls, animal howls, digging in the mud, chewing on your lip until it bleeds, bruises and scrapes, the urge to live in the woods and never return to regular society, knotted hair, forest shrines, putting flower blossoms in your hair, flooded swampy areas, jumping from short cliffs

Suburban Gothic: Hot muggy air sticking to your skin, the buzz of florescent lights, flickering street lights, budget popsicles, late night drug store visits, muffled arguments, an old clock ticking, guady wallpaper, gossamer curtains, dusty cotton sheets, faded quilts, dog barkings, milkshakes in an empty diner, broken windows and graffiti, abandoned train tracks, 24/7 laundromats, rusty swingsets, shadowy silhouettes, semi-abandoned malls, sounds of far off traffic and train horns, driving around at night while soft music plays on the radio, tv static, junk yards and pick-n-pulls, holding hands with a stranger, urban legends, varsity jackets, broken glass on the road, crumbling buildings, local television channels

Cuddle Party: Excited giggles and hushed whispers, condensation on drinkware, running through an empty field hollering and whooping in the dead of night, sitting on the porch in rocking chairs, drunken "I love you"s, old cartoons, classic disney movies, five dollar pizza and breadsticks, singing out loud in the car, finding new places to explore, county fairs and arcade visits, eating fair food and screaming your lungs out on rides, trying to earn as many tickets at the arcade and still winning cheap prizes, being the last one to fall asleep, casually sleeping all together in the same bed, holding hands in crowds, if one of us isn't having a good time none of us are, wondering how long these days will last

Cryptid Academia: Listening to video essays while sketching cryptids, exploring abandoned buildings (legally and illegally), pocket knives, blackout curtains, newspaper clippings, viewing the night sky through a telescope, visiting natural history or science museums, old typewriters, info dumping conspiracy theories on friends, making plans to investigate that never come to fruition, tearing yet another hole into your clothes climbing over fences, shoddily patched up clothes, keychains and aluminum pins, novelty socks, analog watches, Buzzfeed Unsolved, cryptid podcasts, sprint training so you can outrun whatever is chasing you, rubiks cubes, sore fingers from mending, thrift shopping, essays only about cryptids

Desertwave: Billowing winds, sandstorms, wind chimes and suncatchers, succulents in handmade clay pots, aloe vera plants on the kitchen windowsill, the distant howl of a coyote, faded winnebagos, the soft hiss of patio misters, campsites and trailer parks, large rock formations covered in graffiti, picking up trash, the crackle of a bonfire, cacti and joshua trees in the backyard, never getting the sand completely out of your shoes, dusty clothes, laying in a hammock watching the stars, water balloon fights, hot springs, mexican ice cream bars, rocky desert mountains, plots of sand and plants that stretch on as far as the eye can see

[itslikepullingteeth]

okay gonna make a list of the animals that inspire the appearance of each of the ghouls (starting with current band ghouls because i have been a fan for a year and a half so my grasp on the older ghouls is tenuous at best lol) in my head. they aren’t exactly 1:1 of these animals; it’s more so bits and pieces i mix to make their image.

each element in my head corresponds to specific families of animals. ghouls are humanoid, but very much not human in my hc. very predator coded (i am in love with every author who writes murder ghouls, you guys get me)

fire- reptiles, serpents, very dragon-like (cliche, sue me), these ghouls are all wicked sharp claws and fangs. they may have a laidback, leisurely air about them majority of the time, but they are ruthless hunters. capable of remaining preternaturally still until their prey comes into range, then striking quicker than the blink of an eye. some fire ghouls are capable of producing venom

earth- ungulates (especially bovine, deer, goats), large wildcats, most commonly hooved though some may have paws. thick, heavy fangs, vicious claws. these ghouls are excellent persistence hunters, they may not strike as fast as fire, but their stamina is unmatched and they never lose a scent- they will chase you down until you physically can no longer run

water- fish, marine mammals, amphibians, aquatic reptiles. these ghouls have many very sharp fangs, and their claws are barbed/serrated to keep their prey pinned while they tear out chunks with their razor sharp teeth. sleek and lean, these ghouls are made for speed, land or water. the serration is universal, whether the ghoul is more fresh- or saltwater aligned

air- birds, especially raptors and corvids, bats, insects. basically any creature capable of flight. these ghouls rely more on their claws/talons than their fangs- but don’t underestimate their bite! air ghouls can be the most aggressive of all elements. they are frighteningly light footed, you’ll never hear them coming. they can move effortlessly from treetop to treetop, rafter to rafter, dropping down like an angel of death onto their prey. air ghouls also have little care for if their prey is dispatched or not before they begin eating, they will simply dig in as you thrash and scream, pinned by their talons

quintessence- hardest to pin down, due to the unknowable nature of dark matter/quintessence they can appear with the most variation in characteristics. most commonly they’ll have ursine, canine, or feline features. quints are the most prolific hunters of ghoulkind. while many of them can end their prey with a thought, they often draw out the hunt, relishing in the fear. quints will stalk from the shadows. you’ll never know they’re coming until it’s too late. they play with your mind, slowly feeding into your fear. it’s like when horror movies use extremely low frequency sounds; you can’t hear them but you feel it- that creeping sense of dread that gets bigger and bigger the closer the killer gets, until suddenly you’re panicking and you can’t breathe and oh my god did that shadow just move? and-

mountain: red deer, lion/mountain lion, goat

rain: shark, alligator, axolotl

dew: blue-tongued skink, horned viper

swiss: (hc as a multi, every element) texas longhorn, jaguar, griffon vulture

phantom/aeon: (he’s an earth/quint hybrid to me!) jacob sheep ram, alexander archipelago wolf, vampire bat

aurora: (i hc her as an air/water hybrid) loon, jewel beetle

cumulus: barn owl, bumble bee

cirrus: raven, yellow jacket

sunny: red-tailed hawk, bearded dragon, fire ant

aether: grizzly bear, i love the idea of aeth having tusks but there’s no specific animal i feel like i draw that from it’s a hc i’ve poached lol

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Itadori

Gardener Itadori is the cutest thing ever and I tried to make him as cute as possible here lol. Femme reader 9.6k words

Hands in the soil, dirt beneath his nails and a bountiful harvest in his little wicker basket - that’s what Itadori’s life had become, and he wasn’t mad about it. After inheriting a home and land in the countryside from his grandfather, Itadori scoffed at the idea of living in the slow countryside, but burdened with morality, he went and discovered that it was actually the best thing for him.

Quickly getting to work, he collected rain water, installed solar panels, had a massively flourishing garden that he rotated with seasonal plants all year round and cultivated a nice relationship with the local farmers. Everyone traded their wares, holding markets in the town center that people from all over would come and visit.

Itadori haphazardly stumbled into making YouTube videos one day when he decided to post a video of the apples he’d just picked to show his friends. It wasn’t a long video, ten minutes max, but for some reason the algorithm had decided to bless him and put his video in front of a million people.

The comments made him smile, they were all so supportive of his hard work. A few made him blush, calling him impossibly cute among a few other embarrassing things. And that was how his channel was born. Ordering a few cheap supplies off Amazon, Itadori filmed whatever he thought was interesting: his spring harvest, deadheading flowers, the farmers market and the handmade soap he got one day.

He had imagined his life to be filled with the busy atmosphere of the city, but the relaxed pace of the countryside brought his mind at ease. All he needed to do here was make enough to pay for utilities and keep himself fed. Sure he missed his friends, but they were always a phone call or a train ride away and he had managed to make more friends during his time here.

Walking the rows of his garden, Itadori filmed the plants along the way, narrating what he was planning to do with the upcoming summer season and what fruits and vegetables he was excited to grow. Quickly posting the video to TikTok, he tucked his phone away and forgot about it; becoming entranced with small insects and birds that visited often got him distracted.

“Yuji!” Someone shouted, drawing Itadori’s focus away from the caterpillar he was feeding a berry to. Dusting off his pants, Itadori came to a stand and looked around to find the voice.

“Hey!” He waved back upon landing eyes on Daichi, the retired farmer standing at the edge of his field. Bounding towards him, Itadori could see the gray streaks of hair permeating the otherwise dark strands on the man's head. “What’s up, gramps?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” Flicking his chin, Daichi began to walk towards his home and Itadori followed dutifully. It wasn’t a far walk, hardly five minutes and they were at the front door.

“(Y/N)! C’mere!” Daichi beckoned and the sound of rushed footsteps gave way to a side door opening in the hallway and a flustered individual staring back.

“I told you I’m in a meeting!” You hissed, eyes flicking to Itadori but not paying him any mind. “Give me a minute, please?” Not waiting for a response, you hurriedly closed the door and went back to work.

“Who’s that?” Following Daichi to the living room, Itadori accepted the lemonade that was offered to him by Daichi’s wife.

“That’s the grandkid.” Daichi huffed, taking a sip from his own glass. “She’s here for the summer to spend some time with us.”

“Hmm.” Nodding along, Itadori’s eyes wandered to the hallway, where if he strained he could hear your voice.

“There ya are!” Throwing up a hand, Daichi grunted. “I thought you said you were on vacation, what’s with the work?”

“Not yet. I told you I have some things to finish up for the end of the week and then I’m free.” Rolling your eyes, you entered the fray. Itadori tried not to giggle at the button up you’d thrown on over an old shirt for your meeting. You quickly took it off, laying it over the back of the couch before sitting down next to your grandfather.

“Whatever.” Waving off your attitude, Daichi gestured to Itadori. “We have a guest, say hi.”

“Hey, I’m (Y/N).” Giving him a brief wave, you settled into the cushions.

“I’m Itadori, I live in the house next door.”

“Got it from his grandpa! You remember old man Wasuke, right?”

“Kinda…” Wasuke hadn’t lived in the area for long, and what you remembered of him was that he gave you money for some candy at a festival once.

“Wasuke wasn’t much of a farmer but Yuji here? Why, he’s got a great green thumb!” Laughing to himself, Daichi pushed up off the couch. “Stay here and chat, I’m going to see what grandma is making for lunch.”

As Daichi shuffled away, Itadori took the opportunity to observe you a bit more. You were typing furiously on your phone, mumbling that you’d be done in just a few seconds. He couldn’t deny he thought you were cute, hoping that this coming summer you would have a chance to hang out - just the two of you.

“What kind of things do you grow?” Finally tossing your phone away, you looked up at Itadori, seemingly not noticing that he’d already been staring at you.

“I-I grow a lot of things!” Clearing his throat, he tried to hide his surprised blush with his cup. “Right now I’m transitioning to summer crops and I really hope to grow some amazing strawberries this year and make some jam.”

“That sounds cool, you’ll have to let me come by and see the garden.”

“(Y/N) can’t even grow a houseplant!” Daichi shouted from the kitchen, causing you to jump up in defense.

“Grandpa be quiet!” Now it was your turn to blush, heat crawling over your entire body. You could hardly look at Itadori when you sat down, slapping your hands over your face as Daichi laughed. “God, he’s so embarrassing.” While what he said was true, why did he have to say it in front of the cute boy you’d be seeing the whole summer?

“It’s okay!” Itadori chuckled a little, enamored by your bashfulness. “I think you can grow something if you really put your mind to it.”

“Thanks.” Collapsing onto the couch, you stared at the ceiling. “But honestly, I’d probably need divine intervention to keep a plant alive longer than three weeks.”

“I’ll make sure whatever you plant stays alive the whole summer.” Whatever Itadori had to do, he was ready.

“Promise?” Turning to look at him, you stuck your hand out, pinky outstretched to him.

“Promise.” Quickly locking his pinky with yours, Itadori shook your hand. He’d have to remember to grab your number before he left, now that he had an excuse to start talking to you.

Talking a bit more, it wasn’t long till lunch was ready and Itadori was sitting at the dining table with a sandwich in front of him. He’d eaten in the house before, but it was different now that you were here.

“Did’ya know Yuji makes videos about plants?” Daichi asked, looking at you curiously. “Puts ‘em on YouTube and stuff.”

“Really? What’s the name of your channel, I’ll check it out!”

“(Y/N) works for a big PR agency in the city, maybe she can help promote you.” Daichi said with a proud smile on his face.

“Grandpa, I work with musicians.”

“You never know, maybe Yuji is into music!”

“Not really.” Itadori laughed, shaking his head. “I go to karaoke sometimes but that’s about it.”

Chatting away into the day, eventually you had to return to your laptop and finish out a few more things for the workday. Itadori had scored not only your number, but you were now mutuals on a bunch of social media sites. When you balked at his TikTok and YouTube following, it made Itadori’s chest swell a bit.

He didn’t see you for a few days after, with you being busy on your laptop and him being busy in the garden, there was no time to meet. But you did text him occasionally, sending pictures of plants you were hoping to grow and if there was something funny to show on Twitter.

When Saturday came, you sent Itadori a text in the morning asking if you could come over to see the garden. He instantly replied, dropping everything he was doing and running around the house to prepare for your visit.

Making a lunch, drinks, cleaning dishes that were already clean and making sure the greenhouse out back was spotless - he’d done everything a million times over and it still didn’t feel like he was ready enough when you rang the doorbell.

“C-coming!” Nearly tripping over an area rug, Itadori ran to the door. Opening it in a hurry, you gasped at the sudden motion and Itadori gasped upon seeing you. In a pale yellow sundress and a wicker hat no doubt made by your grandma, you were exactly what Itadori imagined the cutest gardener ever to look like.

“Hi!” You smiled, waving a hand at him. The faint smell of sunscreen drifted towards him and Itadori stepped aside to let you in.

“Hi.” He replied dumbly, closing the door after you. He suddenly felt self conscious of the decor of his home; it wasn’t modern in any sense, all of the furniture belonging to his grandpa before he passed.

“I remember this!” Stopping in the hallway, you pointed at a painting of a field of tulips.

“You do?” Itadori had passed by the artwork many times and didn’t think it had any special meaning.

“Yeah! Our grandpas painted together when I was young, I remember finger painting some of the tulips on here.” The tips of your fingers brushed the canvas as the memory came back to you of sitting on Daichi’s lap and insisting on helping.

“That’s really cute.” Itadori cooed, wishing he could have been there as well. Shuffling towards the backdoor, Itadori beckoned you to follow. “I have something to show you.”

Following him diligently, your jaw dropped at the garden before you. There were rows of large spring crops ready to be harvested, several flower bushes being visited by bees, and a few garden beds filled with rich dark soil and seedlings taking root. You couldn’t help but stop and smell some of the flowers as you walked through the garden, smiling at the ladybugs and caterpillars that called the leaves home.

“This is amazing.” Coming upon a large archway in the path, it was fully enclosed in climbing roses, some beginning to flower and show delicate pink blossoms.

“These are cecile brunner roses.” Coming up to one, Itadori plucked a flower and held out the stem for you, which you happily took. “At first I didn’t think it would ever grow, but luckily it took to the soil.” There were countless days spent doing research on the best soil, watering techniques and fertilizer to get the roses to not only grow and climb around the archway but to also survive the winter.

“Grandpa wasn’t kidding when he said you’re a great gardener.” Coming to the edge of the garden, you saw an empty little plot of dirt waiting patiently to be used. “How cute.” Crouching down, you giggled at the sign made with popsicle sticks and cardboard that read ‘(Y/N)’s garden’.

“Made it this morning.” Rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, Itadori motioned to the greenhouse off to the side of the garden. “I have a bunch of seeds in the greenhouse ready for you to choose from. A bunch of flowers and stuff.” Was it wrong to assume you would like to grow flowers? He didn’t want to stereotype you or make you feel bad-

“I’d love to grow some flowers!” Cutting off his inner monologue, you started toward the little structure. “I can give them to my grandma!” Itadori watched you walk away for a few paces before following you, his long stride catching up with you in no time.

Inside the greenhouse, with its frosted windows and higher humidity, it felt like the two of you were in a completely separate world. Itadori had set up the building shortly after moving in, assembling and filling it with gardening supplies and saplings in record time. He’d laid out all the summer seeds he had for you on his work table, unsure of what you’d like.

“I definitely want to grow these.” Holding up a packet of sunflower seeds, you handed them to Itadori, who settled close to your side. “Definitely a watermelon too!” As you picked seeds, Itadori followed along, making a mental checklist of what soil and fertilizer would be needed.

“Hey (Y/N)...” Walking back to your little plot, Itadori wasn’t sure how to pose the question he had.

“What’s up?”

“Do you mind if I set up the camera and film this for a video?” It felt so awkward asking you this - no one was ever in his videos so he never had to worry about asking permission. “It’s not for anything weird, I promise! I just think it’d be nice to make a series for new gardeners. Y’know, give tips and stuff?”

“That’d be perfectly fine!” Your immediate response instantly eased Itadori’s nerves. “Have to capitalize on every chance to make content.”

“I’ll be right back!” He didn’t want to keep you waiting, breaking out into a sprint to grab his camera gear. Setting up his trusty dirt covered tripod, he made sure the scene wasn’t too washed out from the glaring sun before hitting record and running back in front of the camera.

“Hi, welcome back to my garden!��� Itadori started the video; he didn’t do proper intro’s or fancy editing for his videos, he preferred to keep it simple. “This is-” Stopping himself short, he turned to you. “Wait, sorry I didn’t even ask if you wanted to be in the video.”

“I don’t mind! I’m already here anyway.” Giggling a little, you waved to the camera. “Hi, I’m (Y/N), someone that can’t garden to save her life.”

“Yeah, this is (Y/N).” Laughing at your introduction, Itadori loosened up as he spoke. Talking about the promise he had made and the seeds you chose to plant, he went through the packets with the camera and zoomed in on the empty soil.

“I’m going to list on screen the fertilizers I recommend for this kind of soil; it’s all kinds you can buy for cheap!”

“You’re really easy going in front of the camera.” You said after he turned it off. You’d interjected with funny quips here and there as you and Itadori planted, but for the most part you were quiet, letting him do his thing and rattle off a million and one gardening tips.

“You think so? That’s good to hear!” Your compliment meant a lot to him; he never had an audience before, and his friends never commented on it when they watched his videos. A light blush adorned his cheeks as he shot some b-roll footage, chuckling as you waved at the camera after being caught in a sweeping view.

“Do you edit all your videos yourself?” You asked, walking slowly side by side back to the house.

“I do.” It wasn’t the best by any means, but Itadori was proud of the skills he’d managed to scrape together during his time producing content. He thought about hiring an editor, or at least someone else to just look at his work, but he didn’t like the feeling that it gave him; like he was giving up on a part of his channel, delegating it to someone else when he should be taking responsibility and doing it himself.

“If you want, I can…possibly help? I do some video editing for my agency.” The words were hesitant to come out of your mouth and you didn’t look at Itadori as you said them. You knew it was risky, and you were prepared to hear a rejection come from him.

“I…” His previous sentiment flashed before him. “Sure, you can give it a try.” Saying it with a slight smile, on the inside Itadori was freaking out. He had no idea he would say that, shocking himself to the core. But looking at your tentative smile, the ease in your shoulders as you walked into his home, he found he didn’t regret it.

Sitting you at the dining table, Itadori brought out lunch. He had made a large salad with the vegetables he’d grown, putting in fish that he had bought at the market. He was proud to boast that he made the dressing himself as well as the lemonade in your cup.

“You’re amazing, Itadori.” The awe in your eyes bolstered Itadori, making his chest puff out with pride. He could see the stars in your eyes and wished he could take a picture to capture the moment forever. Choosing not to answer, he stuffed his mouth instead, watching with interest as you took your first bite. “Itadori, it’s amazing you’re not married already.”

“W-what?!”

“Especially living in this town.” Your statement made him blush fiercely, his entire body engulfing into a red flush. It was true some of the townsfolk had wondered about possibly setting him up, but Itadori felt too awkward to accept any dates.

“S-so, what kind of videos have you edited?” Desperate to change the subject before he embarrassed himself, Itadori glanced at his camera sitting on the table.

“Mainly short videos for bands, like if they film behind the scenes content or make a vlog.” Pulling out your phone, you brought up a recent video you edited. “We flew overseas for a brand campaign with an artist recently!” Leaning forward, Itadori watched the man on screen talk about his first time being in the city and working with the brand in question. The video was smooth, interjected with funny pictures or short meme videos, stickers and glowing pencil drawings adorning the man whenever he did something cute.

“He’s…” Itadori struggled to find a word to describe him. With a serious, almost sullen face and jet black hair, Itadori saw why he would be the face of a brand.

“Megumi’s a bit of a grouch.” You chuckled, pausing at one part of the video where he was eating ice cream. “He insisted on getting ice cream just because I said I wanted some, and ended up getting it all over his clothes!” And sure enough when you hit play, Megumi stumbled on a bump in the sidewalk and his cone went right into the middle of his shirt; a GTA death screen fading overtop him as he realized what happened.

“What kind of music does he make?” Itadori was impressed with your editing skills, but there was something weighing on his mind.

“Here, let me show you!” Eager to promote him, you pulled up Megumi’s most recent music video. Itadori nearly groaned at hearing the smooth tenor voice coming out, wanting to smack a hand over his face. There was no way he could compete with a guy like this.

“He sounds great.” Itadori wasn’t listening to the words at all - he was too busy picturing Megumi buying you ice cream, probably taking you to dinner once filming was over and getting you some fancy bottle of wine Itadori had no idea how to pronounce. “Is he your boyfriend too?” As he asked, his head slumped forward and pressed against the table. He couldn’t bear to hear a yes come from you.

“W-what?” Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “N-no! He’s my- he’s the agency's client!” You didn’t even allow yourself to entertain that idea, not wanting to get caught up in silly daydreams and possibly losing your job for falling for someone.

“Good.” Whispering to himself, Itadori sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Finish eating, I’m going to grab my laptop and upload the footage.” Quickly leaving the table, as soon as Itadori was out of earshot he leaned against the wall and let out a sharp exhale. Thank god.

Returning quickly, Itadori took a seat next to you instead of across, opening up his laptop and importing the footage as fast as he could. Just sitting next to you like this made him nervous, sliding over the laptop and trying not to breathe too loudly as your knees brushed together.

“Itadori, your computer’s a dinosaur.” Giggling at the piece of tech before you and nudging his shoulder, you took a glance over the screen.

“Shut up.” He nudged you back and laughed as well. His friends also teased him about it, but Itadori figured that as long as it still turned on, it was good enough for him. He wanted to spend his time in the garden, not worrying behind a screen.

“Itadori, do you think-” just as you were speaking, your phone interrupted with a blaring ringtone. “Shit sorry.” Scrambling to grab it, Itadori saw the name flash on screen: Megumi.

“Hello?” It was a video call, something you were ill-prepared for. Fixing your hair and clothes, you were met with the desperate face of Megumi’s agent.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” The man was close to tears, or at least that’s what it looked like to Itadori. “I need your help!”

“What is it, Jin?” Glancing at Itadori, you mouthed the word sorry and sent him a brief pout.

“I know you said you were on vacation for a while and that you would respond to emails once a week and to not bother you too much, but-”

“Gimme the phone.” Yanking it from his grasp, Megumi positioned himself into view with a scowl. “Where are you?”

Itadori’s mouth flashed a quick frown. Why was this man talking to you like this?

“You know where I am.” You replied in kind, playfully scowling back at Megumi. It was quiet for a moment, just the two of you staring at each other, before it was Megumi that broke the silence.

“Whatever. What’s my schedule for the week?”

“Ask your agent!” Rolling your eyes dramatically, you slumped in your chair. “He’s literally right next to you!”

“I don’t want to hear it from him.” Megumi copied your eye roll, earning a begrudging laugh from you. “Wait. Who’s that?”

“Who’s who?” You immediately jerked away from Itadori upon noticing his face was starting to peek into view.

“Are you with another guy?”

“Megumi, you can’t ask that!” Jin cried, tugging on his arm.

“It’s no one!” Another giggle came out from you, coated in nervousness. You didn’t expect Megumi to care who you were with.

“(Y/N), who-”

“He’s my boyfriend, bye!” Blurting out the line, you hung up the phone and slammed it on the table. Your entire body burned from humiliation and your phone was now getting a flurry of text messages.

“He…has your personal number?” Itadori asked slowly.

“Yeah.” Lifting up your phone, you groaned at all the messages from Megumi and now his agent as well. “Boss thought it’d be best for him to have it when we started working together. Ya know, ‘just in case’.” You’d never been more desperate for a proper work life balance than now. Sitting up, you took a look at the messages.

Megumi: (Y/N)! Call me

Megumi: answer the phone!!

Megumi: do you really have a boyfriend?!

Jin: (Y/N) I’M SO SORRY

Jin: just email me the schedule for this week

Jin: I promise to keep Megumi out of the way while you’re gone

Jin: JUST PLEASE DO THIS FOR ME

“Wow, they’re desperate.” Itadori didn’t mean to read your messages but it was difficult not to when you made no effort to hide them.

“Jin is always like this, I swear he was born a nervous wreck.” Pushing yourself away from the table, you wanted to curse at the moment that was lost between you and Itadori. It was normal for Jin to act this way, but Megumi was usually so nonchalant that you had trouble reading him at times.

“Let me get back home and put out the fire.” You had a dramatic slump to your shoulders that made Itadori laugh. “Do you mind sending me the files? I really want to edit the video.”

“No problem!” Giving you a thumbs up, Itadori led you to the door.

“Oh, and sorry about calling you my boyfriend.” You stuttered to a stop right as the door opened, taking a tiny step across the threshold and looking over your shoulder. “I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no worries.” Itadori waved it off. “I…I didn’t mind it all, actually.” Taking a quick glance at you, Itadori rubbed the back of his neck. Both of you stood still, worrying your lips and unsure of what to say next. “There’s a market in the next town over a few days from now, d’ya want to come with me?”

“I’d love that.” Your flushed smile and shy giggle made Itadori laugh himself.

“Great. I’ll text you the details.”

“Great.” The both of you gave each other once overs before finally separating and Itadori watched you walk away until he could no longer see you.

In the coming days, you had been unexpectedly swamped with work; apparently, you were the only one able to work with Megumi’s attitude and coax him into actually listening to Jin. You came over to Itadoris briefly, just to check on the plants and give him some bread your grandma made.

The day of the market, Itadori drove to you in his mini truck, the back filled with wooden crates of produce he intended to trade for some meat. Climbing in, the two of you set off down the road with a picnic basket in your lap; you and your grandma had woken up early just to make lunch for today.

“I’m so excited!” Bouncing in your seat, your eyes darted at every passing thing. You used to go to the neighboring towns a lot when you were younger but as you’d grown older you got too busy to do more than visit your grandparents.

Itadori smiled big at your enthusiasm and hoped the market would live up to all your expectations. You chattered about how it used to be when you came, before you got swept up in university and getting a job in the city. Listening happily, Itadori flicked the radio on.

“Oh my gosh, this is Megumi’s song!” Snapping to attention, you immediately turned the volume up, clapping giddily as his voice filled the car. “This is amazing! I have to let him know!” Quickly shooting off a message to him, you turned to Itadori. “What do you think of his song?”

“His song?” Resting his head in his hand, Itadori listened intently for a few moments. Megumi wasn’t a bad singer by any stretch, yet Itadori struggled to find something to say that wasn’t negative. “It’s good.”

“Just good?” You teased, leaning forward as the car slowed down at a red light. Itadori glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his cheeks getting a bit warm.

“If I say it’s amazing will you stop looking at me like that?”

“Ha!” Falling back into your seat, you laughed and sent off another message to Megumi. “I’ll let him know you love it.”

“Y-you’re telling him right now?”

“Of course! He worked really hard on this song!” He had spent many sleepless nights in the recording booth, only coming out to use the bathroom and to give you and Jin loathsome stares.

You came to the town in twenty minutes, nearly swaying Itadori to stop at a random field so you could take pictures of some grazing cows. Parking right at the edge of the market, Itadori first had to deliver his produce. He insisted on you staying in the car, not wanting you to lift anything heavy and hurt yourself.

“Alright, all done.” A few minutes later and you two began your walk down the market, shoulder to shoulder and looking curiously at every table.

“Smell this!” Picking up a bar of soap, you held it out and watched Itadori take a sniff.

“Oh, a sample!” A kind elderly man gave you and Itadori a slice of cheese.

By the time you were halfway down the market, Itadori was carrying a bag of things you stated you absolutely needed. You’d even bought him a few things, like a candle and homemade cookies.

“I love it here.” Sipping on an iced drink, you and Itadori wandered over to the nearby park, setting up your picnic and laying out on the grass. “I can’t wait for the summer festival, it’ll be even more fun!” You’d gone to the festival nearly every year, only missing out on recent years due to work.

“Yeah, it’ll be great.” Itadori was already forming a mental plan on how to ask you out at the festival, possibly right before the fireworks went off.

The two of you spread out on the blanket you’d laid down, people watching as you ate. The sun was warm against your skin, there was the light background noise of people in the distance, and once your stomach was full you decided to lay down.

“That cloud looks like a rabbit.” You pointed up at the sky. Itadori had laid down with you, not even trying to hide his yawn.

“Mmm, I don’t see it.”

“Your eyes aren’t even open.” Poking him, you got him to open one eye.

“Okay, maybe I see it.” Both of you laughed quietly, and while you tried to pick out more shapes from the clouds, Itadori fell asleep - with you unwittingly following suit soon after. It wasn’t a deep sleep by any means, you could still faintly hear people around you, but it felt good to relax for a bit.

A heavy weight across your midsection roused you in your slumber, drawing you closer to the body laying next to you. Looking out the corner of your eye, you saw Itadori still fast asleep, his head pushed against yours as his arm tightened around you.

“He’s so cute.” You whispered softly, fumbling to grab your phone and snap a couple pictures of him and the two of you together. You had to bite back the childish squeal that bubbled in your chest; the two of you looked cute together and if you were bolder you would show them to Itadori when he awoke.

Letting him sleep, you carefully sat up and began to put things away and back into the basket. At least half an hour had passed since you both laid down and there was no shortage of people still at the market.

Looking down at Itadori, you were unable to resist any longer and you ran a hand through his hair. It wasn’t exceptionally soft or silky, if anything it was a bit rough and in need of conditioner, no doubt from him being outside all the time but you liked the feeling between your fingers and you repeated the motion.

“Feels nice…” Itadori mumbled sleepily, pushing himself into your leg and groaning in appreciation at your fingers in his hair.

“Have a nice nap?” You chuckled, ruffling his hair a bit to stir him awake.

“How- how long was I asleep?” Interrupted by a yawn, Itadori forced himself to open his eyes and look into the sky.

“I’m not sure, I was asleep too.” Grinning at each other, Itadori yawned again and sat up on his elbow.

“We should head out soon, I need to load up the truck and get the meat home.” He made no move to get up any further, instead rubbing a hand over his face and shaking his head. Itadori looked at something in the distance, his mind trying to catch up with what was happening in the world.

“C’mon.” Helping him come to a stand, you folded up the blanket and tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“Okay.” Comically dragging his feet, Itadori let you drag him back to the market. As you got back into the crowd of people, he slipped your hand from his sleeve and laced your fingers together. “Let’s stay close.”

The words came out smoothly and from your vantage point he looked perfectly calm moving through the crowd, but on the inside Itadori was freaking out. It was taking everything in him not to shake from holding your hand and if he dared look over his shoulder at you, he knew an embarrassing noise would escape him.

“Pretty flowers.” You said casually, looking at a table full of floral bouquets. Itadori took one glance at the table and turned, walking straight toward it.

“Which one do you want?” He asked, fishing out money from his wallet.

“Oh no, it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“How about this one?” Itadori picked up a large bouquet of baby's-breath and tulips, a lovely pink shade that nearly matched his hair.

“These are gorgeous.” Taking the flowers from him, you took a whiff as Itadori paid for them.

“Such a loving boyfriend you have.” The shopkeeper cooed, handing Itadori his change.

“Thank you.” A blush overtook your cheeks and a smile spread across your face; you didn’t have the heart to correct them nor did you want to in the first place. Walking back to Itadori’s truck hand in hand, you sat in the car as he loaded a few coolers of meat into the back.

Hugging the bouquet to your chest, the two of you drove in relative quiet, listening to the soft noise of the radio as the day winded down.

“I had a great time today.” You spoke up as Itadori made it to the front of your home.

“I did too.” Putting the truck in park, he quickly hopped out and ran to your side to open your door. Taking hold of the hand he offered, you moved slowly, not wanting the time together to end. Standing in the doorway, Itadori stared straight at you, inching closer every few seconds.

“Welcome back you two!” Your grandpa’s voice shocked both of you, forcing Itadori to take a large step back from you.

“H-hey grandpa!” You waved, hoping he didn’t see you and Itadori just staring at each other. Closing the car door, you tipped your head at Itadori. “I’ll see you soon? I should be done editing your video by tomorrow.”

“Soon.” With a nod and a wave to your grandpa, Itadori got back into his truck and drove off, this time allowing his hands to shake as violently as they wanted to. When night fell and both of you were in bed, Itadori could hardly sleep, reliving the day over and over in his head. As he tossed for the hundredth time, his phone lit up with a text.

(Y/N): I got a vase for the flowers!

Attached to your text was a picture of the vase sitting on your bedside table. Another picture came in shortly after, of you holding the bouquet in your backyard, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun.

(Y/N): grandma really wanted to take this picture, she said she’s going to print it out and frame it

Itadori immediately saved it to his phone, having to stop himself from making it his wallpaper.

Itadori: you look beautiful

Gripping his phone tightly, Itadori stared at the screen. He didn’t care if his statement was too bold, he needed to let you know.

(Y/N): thanks

The word was sent between a flurry of heart emojis and Itadori just knew you were blushing like he was. Neither of you said anything further, opting instead to grip your pillows and try to force sleep to come.

As the days and weeks went on, you and Itadori spent more time together. He loved how you edited his video, asking if you’d like to do a few more for him and possibly show him how to do it as well for when you left. You filmed several more videos together, capturing the growth of your seedlings into blossoming buds with fledgling leaves. You also went over the video comments together, thinking of how best to reply to them.

Neither of you said anything about the comments shipping you, saying how cute you looked together and wondering when you would start dating if you weren’t already. A few people had asked if you also made videos or were on other social media platforms, but you declined to answer those, not wanting it to possibly affect your work negatively.

“(Y/N), call up Yuji and tell him to come over, I want to have a barbecue.” Your grandpa announced just after 4pm. He and your grandma had been going back and forth about what to do for dinner and he finally decided.

“Why do I have to do it?” You questioned, grabbing your phone nonetheless.

“Oh, and tell him to bring some beers-”

“Don’t you dare, you know the doctor told you not to drink on that new medication!”

“Dear, he said one or two was fine!” And back to bickering they were. Laughing under your breath, you slipped out into the back, looking at the wide open grassland before you as you waited for Itadori to text back.

“(Y/N)!” You didn’t have to wait long, Itadori called your name as he rounded the corner.

“That was quick!” Standing to greet him, you gave him a curious look. You’d only sent the message ten minutes ago and he was already here with a platter of vegetables and meat.

“I got excited, I haven’t had a barbecue in so long!” In dirt stained overalls and no shoes, you could see he had been working in the garden.

“Well I’ll let grandpa know you’re here.”

“Yuji!” As if on cue, the man came out of the house. “Such a good kid.” Taking the platter from him, your grandfather turned over his shoulder. “Dear, is the barbecue still in the shed?”

“I’ll get it.” Itadori immediately walked over to the building in question, pulling out the barbecue and a bag of charcoal. “Where d’ya want it, gramps?”

“Over here.” As the two of them got to work setting up the grill, you went back inside to grab drinks. In no time, all of you were outside, listening to music from an old stereo and waiting for the grill to heat up.

“So (Y/N), how’s that boy in the city?” Taking a sip of water, Daichi stared at the grill. “He done calling you all the time?”

“Megumi’s just stressed, this is the first time I’ve gone on a vacation like this since we met.” Itadori frowned at the topic of conversation; he couldn’t help but see Megumi as competition in winning you over.

“Oh Yuji, you’re so cute!” Cooing at the young man, your grandma glanced at you. “I think someone is jealous.” Giggling behind her hand, the elderly woman patted you on the shoulder as you slapped a hand over your face.

“Jeez Yachi, you could try to be more subtle!” Leaning back dramatically, Daichi groaned.

“I can’t help it!” She continued to tease, reveling in yours and Itadori’s embarrassed faces.

“I’m going to get more water before I die of humiliation.” Jumping up, you all but ran into the kitchen to escape. Going straight into the bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face to quell your scalding cheeks.

Once your body had cooled down, you exited the bathroom, surprised to see Itadori standing at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables. You could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he chopped, his already short sleeves rolled up to expose his shoulders.

“Did grandma put you to work?” Making your presence known, you tore your eyes away from his arms and over to the window where the two of them were standing over the grill.

“Yeah.” Itadori chuckled, focused on chopping. Leaning against the counter, you looked over to him, wanting to say something about your grandma’s comment. “I am jealous.” He spoke before you could, not tearing his eyes away from his task.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Glancing at you, he licked his lips nervously before continuing. “Jealous that he’s known you longer, he’s gone on a vacation with you and probably a bunch of other things I don’t even want to think about.” Setting the knife down, Itadori placed his hand over yours. “But I’ll beat him, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Beat him in what?” Your breath was hardly coming out and your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you were surprised any sound was able to be heard.

“In the race for you.” A shaky exhale left Itadori, his eyes making contact with yours briefly before dropping to your lips. “I’m going to win your heart before Megumi knows what hit him.” Giving your hand a brief squeeze, Itadori stepped away and grabbed the cutting board he’d been working on. “Alright, all done!” He yelled as he walked outside, leaving you alone to think about what just happened.

You wanted to deny it, push away the idea that Megumi might like you in that way, but there was no getting around it. You’d seen the signs yourself no matter how hard you pushed them away and if these past weeks were any indication, he was desperate not to lose you to Itadori.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur, your interaction with Itadori playing over and over in your head. A few other neighbors had joined the fray, helping to disperse the conversations and take attention away from you. You didn’t shy away from Itadori, sitting next to him when it came time to eat and walking him out when it got too dark to stay out any longer.

“Thanks for coming.” You two were now standing on the sidewalk, neither of you making a move to leave the other.

“I had a good time.” Rocking on his feet, Itadori reached out and hooked his fingers on yours. “I’ll see you soon?” He gave you a hopeful look from under his lashes, one that turned to happiness at your nod.

“Yeah, I need to check on my plants!”

“Plants, of course.” Chuckling, Itadori raised your hand to his lips, giving your knuckles a kiss and a squeeze before letting go. “See you.”

“Bye.” Biting your lip to hold back a childish giggle, you waited for Itadori to get a bit farther away before making yourself turn to go back inside. Itadori’s confession followed you to sleep, making butterflies erupt in your stomach everytime you thought about his lips on your hand.

With the summer festival coming up sooner than either of you had anticipated, the time you and Itadori spent together wasn’t as much as either of you had hoped. Being a strapping young man, he was put to work grabbing supplies and setting up booths. What time you did spend together was always short, just a quick exchange before Itadori was called to do other things or he was simply too exhausted to stay awake any longer.

But it was all worth it in the end, when you woke up and saw that the festival was beginning to start. People from other towns had come and set up, making the festival stretch widely across the town center. 

“Itadori!” Painfully excited and jumping for joy, you knocked loudly on his front door. You knew he wasn’t at the festival already because you had made a promise to go together.

There were a few thumps from the other side of the door and a hushed ‘ow!’ before the door was yanked open.

“W-what time is it?” Itadori yawned, shielding his face from the sun. You couldn’t formulate an answer though, too busy ogling his shirtless physique. It was like seeing him for the first time all over again, your eyes drinking in every detail of his muscles.

“Eleven?” Your voice was terribly quiet and Itadori didn’t even hear it, opting to turn around and look at the clock on the wall.

“Damn, pretty late. Come in.” Dragging his feet through the hall, Itadori came to a halt at a coffee machine in the kitchen. “Want one?”

“I’m good.” Leaning against the dining table, you now stared at the muscles in his back, idly wondering what it’d be like to touch them.

“I see you staring.” Itadori teased, looking at you from the corner of his eye as he poured a cup of coffee.

“Shut up.” Whipping your head away, a blush cropped up on the back of your neck.

“I’ll get dressed and then we can go.” Quickly downing the drink, he did a light jog out of the kitchen. Five minutes later and Itadori reappeared, a light tank top adorning him. Escorting you out of the house, Itadori held up his camera.

“You’re filming a vlog?” You asked excitedly. He had never really filmed a video like this before and you were excited to see him broadening his content.

“Yes, I’m filming a vlog.” He was already holding up the camera, arm extended to capture both of you in the frame. “It’s the summer festival everyone! And me and (Y/N) are going!”

“It’s going to be great! There’s so much to do there!” You chimed in, pumping your first into the air.

“What should we do first? Maybe get some cotton candy?”

“Yes!” Scurrying ahead, you let Itadori continue to talk to the camera, excitement driving you forward. Briefly looking over your shoulder, you saw him film you running off and waving. Stopping once you reached the edge of the festival, you bounced on your toes waiting for him to meet up with you.

“Someone’s excited.” He teased, casually slinging an arm over your shoulder as you began your walk through the festival. You welcomed the motion, moving closer to him and letting your head rest on his shoulder for a moment.

Walking through the festival, Itadori had a hard time multitasking between vlogging and talking to you. He’d never filmed in such a public place before and it was making him nervous; not all the townsfolk knew he filmed videos.

“Hey Itadori!” A man sitting at a strawberry tanghulu stand waved the two of you down, gesturing to the fruit sitting on the table. “Look, these are with the strawberries you grew!”

“Wow!” Itadori had an impressed look on his face as he filmed it for the camera.

“Here, take some! They’re technically yours after all!” The man eagerly handed you a skewer of the fruit, giving you two a wave as you walked away.

“Don’t keep me waiting, try it.” Itadori nudged you; he wanted to see what you thought of his food. Biting down on the brittle sugar, you hummed and licked your lips.

“Only the best from the Itadori farm!” You exclaimed, waving the skewer at the camera. “I know all of you are jealous!”

“Gimme some.” Opening his mouth, Itadori waited for you to feed him. Taking a bite himself, he gave a thumbs up. “Amazing.”

Walking around the festival, the both of you stopped to talk to the other townspeople, some running stands and others just perusing themselves. There was a lot to see and do, from eating all the festival food you could get your hands on to watching live performances of local musicians.

“I should ask Megumi if he’d be interested in playing a festival, I want to go to more.” You said offhandedly, always eager to help broaden the exposure of your agencies clients.

“I should become a musician so I can have you think about me all the time.” Itadori teased, pinching your cheek.

“I think about you plenty!” Giggling and swatting at his hand, you captured it in yours, holding it tightly against your chest. Itadori laughed as well, untangling your hands to properly thread your fingers together.

“Good, ‘cause I think about you a lot.” Resting his head against yours, Itadori turned his attention to the music playing, turning the camera so it could capture it as well.

As the sun began to set, there was an excited murmur of the fireworks show to come. Itadori had helped put it together, driving cases of fireworks from one town to the other and helping plan out the order of everything on his ancient laptop.

“How cute!” Walking around a bit before it started, you stumbled upon a game stall where the prizes were large plushies. A large pink bunny had caught your eye, its ears much longer than its body.

“You like it?” Handing the camera to you, Itadori fished out a few dollars. “I’ll win it, no problem.”

“Alright, I’m counting on you!” Angling the camera, you made sure the whole stall was in frame before he started. Itadori was painfully focused, he hardly made a sound as he threw darts to pop the balloons a few feet away. Every throw landed, making you more anxious by the minute.

“It’s all yours.” The person manning the stall pulled down the rabbit and handed it to Itadori.

“Here you go.” Walking off, Itadori switched the camera for the rabbit.

“Thank you!” Feeling a rush of adrenaline, you bounced on your toes and swooped in, giving Itadori a kiss on the cheek. Clutching the plush close to your chest, you laughed at his shocked expression and how his eyes got wider upon realizing he caught it on camera.

“N-no problem.” He could hardly speak, surprised that you would even want to kiss him. Fighting the urge to grab you and kiss you back, Itadori tugged at your hand instead, focusing on walking straight and not passing out from how hot his face was.

Finding a spot to watch the fireworks, Itadori hugged you to his chest, resting his camera on his shoulder as the sky lit up. The babble of amazed children was drowned out every few moments by a loud boom and the crowd was bathed in a wonderful swatch of bright colors.

While the fireworks were going off, Itadori did mental gymnastics trying to figure out how he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. With the festival coming to an end, it also signaled the beginning of the end of summer, meaning you’d be going back to work in the city in no time. He worried so much about it all that the firework show came and went without him noticing.

“I had so much fun!” As the two of you walked out of the town center, your hands had naturally come together and swung back and forth.

“Me too.” Itadori turned the camera off now, it was too dark to really see anything on film. Passing by street lights, he dreaded every step closer to your homes. “(Y/N).” He stopped abruptly. “Let’s go on a walk.”

“Okay.” Sending him a curious look, you followed him down a side street away from home. Walking in silence, you could tell something was eating at Itadori because every few steps he would falter and look at you, only to snap his head away just as quickly. “Is something wrong?” Now it was your turn to stop under a streetlight, tugging him to stop as well.

“No.” Itadori said, refusing to look at you. “Well, yes…” Taking a glance at you made a groan come out of him and he threw his head back in frustration. “Nothing’s wrong, I just…just…” It was silent between you two: you looking at Itadori with worry and him staring at the sky trying to muster the courage to do something.

“Did I do anything wrong?”

“No!” Your question immediately brought Itadori back to earth, his wide stare throwing you off. “No, nothing!”

“Then what’s up? You’ve been acting weird since we left.”

“I-” Getting fed up with himself, Itadori let out a short and annoyed shout. “I just don’t want this night to end with me doing nothing!”

“Nothing?”

“Yes! I want to- I want to kiss you! I want to ask you out, I want you to be my girlfriend! But how can I ask any of that when I keep chickening out?” He hadn’t meant to shout, but Itadori was getting angry at himself. Squeezing your hand tighter, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on your shoulder. “I don’t want you going back to the city without at least knowing how much I like you.”

Itadori refused to lift his head after his final words, not wanting to see your expression lest it be something he didn’t want to see. Sure, he had stated that he intended to win your heart but this was different, he was actually coming out and saying how much he wanted to be with you.

“Itadori.” Nudging his head up, you got him to look at you, his cheeks a horribly deep shade of pink. Looking at you made it worse, but he leaned into the hand you placed on his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.” Your words made a tremendous weight lift off his shoulders and Itadori nearly collapsed.

“Thank god.” He sighed happily, cupping your cheeks as well and laughing like a fool. “I don’t think I could stand to be rejected.” Pushing his forehead against yours, he closed his eyes and sighed again. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” The word barely left you before he was already putting his lips on yours. Itadori was smiling in the kiss, pushing his teeth into yours without meaning to. He kissed you a few times, managing to close his mouth properly a few times before finally parting.

“Alright, let’s get you home. I don’t want gramps to get the wrong idea about me.” Kissing you again, Itadori put his arm around your shoulder and began walking. The trip back was too short for either of your liking and you made it to your front door all too soon.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked hopefully.

“Of course.” Itadori punctuated his statement with a kiss. Sharing a long hug, you eventually separated and went inside. Taking a glance into the lounge room, you balked at seeing both your grandparents scrambling to fix the curtains. “Were you spying on us?”

“I- well- it was your grandma's idea.”

“No it wasn’t! You know grandpa is nosy!”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at being caught by your grandparents. You just laughed it off and offered to give them the details which they happily listened to, giving you love advice every now and again.

With the end of the festival truly came the end of your summer holiday. Itadori and you harvested your crops, proudly showing the camera the bundle of flowers and produce you were able to grow. He edited the vlog of the festival himself as well, keeping in all the cheesy and romantic moments you two shared and titling it ‘finally getting a girlfriend’. There were hundreds of fan edits by the end of the week and Itadori clipped several moments to relive on his TikTok.

Once the day came to leave, you said goodbye to your grandparents, promising to come back soon. Itadori drove you to the train station, his hand laced with yours as he drove. He was pensive, not saying much as he drove; he had to constantly stop himself from turning the car around and driving you right back to town.

“You won’t forget about me right?” He asked as he helped grab your bags.

“How could I?” You knew for a fact that he and your grandparents would be blowing up your phone constantly asking for you to visit.

“Megumi better not give you any trouble.” Itadori would be ready to drive to the city at the drop of a hat just to put the melancholy man in his place. You laughed at that statement, rolling your eyes and taking your suitcase from him.

“Please, Megumi’s harmless.” Fixing your bags and checking the time, you missed Itadori’s brief look of discontent. You said that, but Itadori had a feeling Megumi wouldn’t back off just because you suddenly had a new boyfriend.

“Text me when you get on the train.” Placing his hands on your shoulders, Itadori squared your body to him.

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!” Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed him tightly and pecked him on the lips. “I’ll even send a picture of my seat.” Kissing him one last time, you pulled apart and took a step back. “Bye!” You went to walk away but Itadori grabbed onto your hand, preventing you from going any further.

“I’m going to miss you!” He whined, letting you tug back and forth.

“You big baby!” You would miss him too and you nearly let him pull you back, but you stayed strong and eventually broke free from his hold. “Go pick out the fall crops already!”

“Fine!” Itadori made no move to leave, instead watching you walk away and into the station. He waited until you texted him that you were on the train and even then still waited until he heard the whistle blow and saw the train begin its departure.

(Y/N): miss you already

(Y/N): I’ll be back before you know it

(Itadori): I’ll be waiting

[undertheopensky]

Feather Dreams

Whumptober Day 2: Delirium

Characters: Wind, Sky, Warriors

Read on Ao3!

Wars insists he doesn’t snore. Wind knows better. He’s worse than the old man, and Time once snort-snored so loudly it scared a small flock of birds out of a nearby tree. Time, of course, slept right through it, and so did Warriors, because he’s not as light a sleeper as he thinks he is for anything short of metal-on-metal chiming.

Point is, if there are any monsters around, they’re not going to go undetected, but Wind’s not too concerned about that. Anything that hears Wars snoring is going to assume it’s a hinox and steer clear. Wind being on watch is more to make sure the fire doesn’t go out. It’s cold up here.

Time doesn’t like having the younger members of the team on watch, but they’re low on options. Hyrule had to use way too much magic helping Legend take down that lynel, and everyone is exhausted after days of marching through a snowy wasteland. It’s not even fun snow, as Wind discovered when trying to make snowballs. They need as many functional people as possible, and sometimes that means Wind takes a watch shift, much to his delight.

There’s just something exciting about being up so late, when all the adults try their damndest to keep him going to bed on time. He’s a pirate. He spent weeks alone on a one-man sailboat, and sometimes that meant staying up all night using the stars to navigate or fighting a storm. Like, he gets it. He’s small and cute and sets off big brother instincts. He is a big brother, he gets where they’re coming from. But when trying to protect him means they’re hurting themselves, well, then Wind has Opinions about it.

Aside from Certain Snoring Persons, tonight’s been quiet. There’s no insects here; too cold, Wild said. The crackling fire is the loudest noise, underlaid by the soft sounds of sleeping people. Steady breathing, when it’s not drowning out by the snores. Cloth rustling as someone rolls over. A faint whistle that might have been Legend and might have been a nearby owl.

Wind frowns. And a soft, steady whine, like someone close by is in pain.

Quietly, Wind picks his way around the campsite, tracking the whine back to its source, and finds Sky with his face tight in hurt or fear.

He kneels by Sky’s shoulder. Don’t want to get smacked in the face, so no leaning over; just a light shake should do it. “Sky. Wake up, Sky.”

Sky doesn’t stir. And sure, they like to tease him about how he can fall asleep anytime, anywhere, but he’s not — he doesn’t sleep deep, not like Wars does. He should have jolted awake as soon as Wind touched him.

He shakes harder. “Sky, c’mon. It’s just a nightmare.”

The whine cuts off and for a second Wind thinks he’s awake, but Sky just — makes a gulping sound, an odd stutter-step in his breathing, and then just stops.

Ten seconds. Twenty.

Wind starts shaking him again. “C’mon Sky don’t do this to me —”

Sky sucks in air, strained and rattling, and whines again.

He’s — he’s not awake. His eyes aren’t open, and are half-rolled back when Wind checks. Every now and then he whimpers on an exhale, like it hurts. He also won’t wake up no matter what Wind tries.

Sky’s breathing hitches again.

“No no no don’t do that again — Sky please you’re scaring me —”

“Kill them, bring them back,” Sky says, strangely clear, “Blind them, maybe.”

Wind freezes.

Sky’s breathing goes back to being short and shallow, almost panting. He’s shaking, Wind realises distantly, little bursts of full-body trembling. He’s clearly — asleep, or unconscious, or sick, but he’d spoken so clearly —

This was officially beyond Wind’s ability to deal. He needed an adult.

Okay, something going wrong on watch. It wasn’t monsters, so he didn’t need to wake the whole camp. It wasn’t rain, so he didn’t need to wake the whole camp. It wasn’t fire, so he didn’t need to wake Time to put it out.

Okay, focus.

Problem: can’t wake Sky.

Does Sky need to be woken?

Sky whines again, wispy and cracking like he’s in terrible pain.

Spooked, Wind’s shoulders inch towards his ears. That was an unequivocal yes.

Someone not waking up… was a medical problem, right? That was why they kept waking people when they had concussions, to make sure they could wake up.

Warriors it was!

Wars is, as always, a nightmare to wake up. Wind doesn’t actually want to wake the whole camp, so he’s restricted from anything that involves shouting (either him or Wars), which pretty much only leaves shaking him as hard as he can.

“Wars wars wars wars wars wars wars —” he chants, quietly, trying to listen to make sure Sky is still breathing behind him.

“Mgh. You fucking gremlin.” Wars doesn’t even have his eyes open but Wind is still relieved beyond bearing at his voice. “Whadyou want?”

“It’s Sky,” Wind hisses, “I can’t wake him and he’s breathing funny and he keeps saying stuff!”

Wars cracks one eye to glare at him. “Mrrrgh. You woke me up because Sky talks in his sleep?”

“Wars I’m serious —”

“Pour me into a dead sheep and toss me to the moors,” says Sky, still in that eerie, too-clear voice.

They trade horrified looks and scurry over.

Wars immediately sets about looking Sky over. “No fever,” he mutters, “increased heart rate, increased breathing —”

Right on cue, Sky stops breathing.

Wars makes a strangled noise of horror and dives for Sky’s pulse. Wind starts roughly shaking his shoulder. It had worked last time, right? “Sky, wake up, please!” Sky’s head lolls back and forth with the force of it, limp and unresponsive, until finally —

Sky gasps.

Wind slumps back in relief.

“That is not normal.” Wars checks Sky’s temperature again. His frown deepens. “How long would you say this has been happening?”

“About, uh —” Wind cringes as Sky starts to make that horrible pained noise again, then tries to remember the question. “Maybe, um, ten minutes total? I tried to, to wake him before I tried to wake you, and — and I would’ve noticed him doing the gasping thing or talking before that.”

“Okay, good.” Wind bites his lip. Wars’ expression is too grim for ‘good’.

Wind watches him pick up Sky’s hand, and dig a nail into the space between thumb and forefinger. Then, when that doesn’t get a response, he pulls back the bedroll so he can scrub the hard side of his knuckles up and down Sky’s sternum through his sleep shirt.

Sky’s eyelids flutter. But he doesn’t stir, and he doesn’t wake.

“Whisper, whisper,” he murmurs. “Whisper soft or the mermaids will hear.”

Warriors swears quietly and covers him back up.

“Wars? What’s wrong with him? He’ll be okay, right?”

Wars’ face goes tight in the way that means he’s trying not to have an expression. “The delirium without fever, the lack of response — those aren’t good signs. If we’re lucky, he’s been poisoned.”

“But… what do we do for poison?” Wind’s experience boils down to ‘don’t eat things you don’t recognise’ and ‘if you get acid on your skin wash it off immediately’.

Wars stands to get something from his pack, and Wind notices for the first time that he’s in socked feet. He hadn’t so much as paused to grab his boots.

Somehow, that’s when it hits him just how serious this is. Sky could die.

“Wars?” he says in a small voice as he comes back holding a bottle of potion and the Chain’s last fairy, “he is going to be okay, right?”

“We’re not losing Sky to this, sailor,” Wars swears. “Not if I can help it. Now, help me hold him.” Wars hauls Sky into a sit and unstoppers the potion bottle.

Wind reaches to steady him. “But potions can’t fix poison.”

“No, they can’t cure poison, but they can fix the damage poison causes. Sky’s lasted this long. If we can keep him alive long enough for his body to clear it out, we’re in with a chance.”

But whenever he’s not muttering strings of dark nonsense Sky’s jaw is clenched tight. He mumbles something about blood and locks up again before Wars can get more than a few drops onto his tongue. And getting him to swallow is an exercise in frustration. “Sky, work with me here,” Wars pleads.

Sky hums and rolls his head into Wars’ shoulder. “If you’re going to run, you better do it fast.”

“Why? What are we running from, Sky,” Wars tries to prompt.

“Death walks in his wake,” Sky says, and there’s an odd, lilting sigh in his voice that makes Wind sit up anxiously.

This time when Sky gasps, he chokes on it. His whole chest heaves and his hands scrabble in his blankets, and Wind stifles a terrified sob.

“Hhnngwars? Wind? Wassgoinon?”

That’s — that’s not at all the clear voice he was using before. He’s breathing, breathing properly now, deep and hard like he’s been running, and blinking bleary eyes at the two people crowding his bedroll. Wars’ face brightens with hope. “Sky, drink this.”

Dazed, Sky takes a sip, only to splutter and shove the bottle away from his face. “Wha — Wars! Why’re you — we’re low on, we don’t have, why are you giving me this?”

“Just drink the potion Sky. We don’t know when you were poisoned so I’m not taking chances — do you know when you were exposed, did you get an injury fighting that lynel you didn’t tell us about?”

“Can I have more than like five seconds to wake up before you start peppering me with questions?” Sky begs, head in hands. “Please?”

Wind bursts into tears and flings himself at Sky.

“I was so scared!” he wails. “You wouldn’t wake up and you stopped breathing and you kept saying scary stuff!”

Sky pats his head clumsily. “Sorry, Wind. I promise I’m okay. Wars — Wars put that away, I know what it was. I’m not poisoned.”

“Poisoned? Who’s poisoned?” asks Wild. The commotion has finally dragged him to groggy wakefulness, and he’s not the only one stirring at Wind’s hysterical sobs.

“No one’s poisoned. C’mon, Wind, calm down for me.” Sky wraps a clumsy arm around him so he can rock him a bit. “Deep breaths. You’re gonna scare the shit out of everyone.”

“You scared the shit out of me!”

Legend jerks upright with a snort. “Wha? Why’s Wind cryin’?”

“Golden Goddesses,” Sky mutters.

Wild squints across the stirring campsite. Notes the unused healing items, Wind sobbing on a bleary-eyed Sky, and visibly decides not to panic. “Y’know what, I’m gonna make some tea.”

Some minutes later, the whole camp is awake under the stars, mugs of tea in hand and sporting various expressions of confusion.

“Why am I awake?” says Twilight.

“We had a medical emergency,” says Wars. He still hasn’t put his boots on. “Hoping Sky can shed some light on it, because that was damn scary. Sky?”

“In my defense,” Sky says into his hands, I’ve slept in dormitories more than half my life and never had a complaint, so. I didn’t think to warn you.”

“Warn us about what?” Time says.

“It’s, um.” Sky scratches an itch at his collar. “So. Bear with me. I was dreaming. We were walking along a long, long bridge, very tall, made of grey stone, over deep water that was a long way down. In front of us there was an old fountain, covered in moss and lichen, and when we got close, a pair of lizalfos jumped out. Wild was expecting them and took them both out with arrows.” He pauses, briefly, eyes flitting to check their reactions. No one interrupts. “Then… there was a roaring sound, and the air got really hot. And then this — it was so big it broke the fountain when it landed, this massive black dragon landed in front of us. But the proportions were wrong. It had a huge, heavy body with a long thin tail, and three heads crowned with fire each on a long neck —”

“Gleeok,” Hyrule and Legend both say at once. Hyrule waves Legend to continue. “Giant dragon with multiple heads that spits fire,” the veteran says. “Not common.”

“Well it was definitely huge. All it had to do was spin around once and I think everyone was thrown from the bridge by its tail. But it was so hot that hitting the water was almost a relief, except… we weren’t safe there either. There was something in the water with us, and we had to swim quietly, but we had to get out as fast as we could. So we made it to an island in the middle of the lake, and we were safe from the lake, but there was still something — wrong. Something hunting us.”

“Did the gleeok come down after us?” asks Wind from where he’s still curled into Sky’s side.

“No, the dragon didn’t follow us. It was just this little island of sand and rock, and… there was something bad there. Something empty.”

“What happened then?” Time prompts.

Sky shakes his head and looks up from the fire. “I don’t know. It ended there.”

Wild is frowning, more curious than anything. “That’s a near-perfect description of my Lake Hylia, bridge and fountain and island and all. But — we haven’t been there yet. Have we?”

Sky shakes his head. “No.”

“Then, how did you…?”

Wrapping the edges of his sailcloth a little more firmly around his shoulders, Sky tries for a smile. “Um. Sometimes… when I dream… I see things that haven’t happened yet. And they do happen. I dreamed it before the portals started, and when Zelda — my Zelda — right before my adventure I dreamed of the storm that made her vanish.”

“Hm,” says Time, with an air of dawning comprehension. “Prophetic dreams.”

“Yeah.”

“So why did Wind and Wars freak out about it?” asks Twilight, still grumpy.

“Well, when I’m having one of those dreams, I can’t be woken, not until it’s over. And, um. I swear I didn’t know about the rest, Pipit’s never said anything —”

“He stopped breathing a few times,” says Wars. “And said some pretty dark stuff. At one point it was ‘pour me into a dead sheep’ or something. I was convinced you were delirious.”

Sky gets a peculiar look on his face. “What’s a sheep?”

“Ooh I know this one,” says Wild, digging for his slate. “I have a photo, hang on — it’s these things.”

“Hm,” says Sky, looking at the fluffy cloud with horns and a face. “I definitely saw those in a dream once, but had no idea what they were.”

“You didn’t know what the gleeok was either,” says Legend. “So it’s all just… contextless?”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t seem very useful.”

Sky laughs, and relaxes for the first time since waking up to terrified faces and the bitter taste of red potion. “It’s really not.”

“Yeah, what was that about poison before?” Wild asks.

“There’s not a lot of things that will make someone drop into a sleep they can’t be roused from, combined with — delirium, with a fever,” Wars explains. “Poison was the most likely, considering we’re constantly coming across new and terrifying monster variants.”

“Well.” Legend throws back the last of his tea like a shot. “Sky’s fine, and I’m tired. Unless there’s something else, I’m going the fuck back to bed. Everything else can wait til morning.”

“He’s got a point,” says Wild. “We still have a long way to go to Snowfield Stable tomorrow. Wind, you should go to bed too — it’s nearly time for my watch anyway.”

Wind opens his mouth to complain — he can take the full watch, for Din’s sake! — before glancing at the moon. It really is close, and honestly, as the last of the adrenaline fades and Wild’s sleepy-tea kicks in, he wants nothing more than his blankets. Except, that would require getting up, and Sky is warm, and —

He squeaks indignantly as Sky flops down and deliberately drags Wind with him. “Sky! Lemme go!”

“Nope. You woke me up. Mine now.”

Sky snuggles into his hair and flips up the edges of the bedroll to block out the chill. And Wind wants to complain, he’s not a little kid, he can sleep in his own damn bed —

Sky is warm, and solid, and breathing. He’s okay. He’s safe.

Wind deliberately ignores the loose grip that he could escape from if he really tried, and closes his eyes to the sound of Wild humming.

[acermp100]

WAWA WEEK PART 2: THE WAWAING

26/3 - Exorcism: VESSELS

Reigen, Dimple, and Serizawa are out on a mission to take out something that's been affecting an old, abandoned industrial area.

Teen rating. Some depictions of animal abuse, hurt animals. Mild horror themes. More implied Seri/Rei cause I can't help it ok. 3k~ words

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

Clouds shifted over the sun leaving the last bit of brightness lost amongst disused smoke stacks and broken power lines. Every building rose to the same five story height- wide glass panel windows at the top with mortar and brick for the walls, all cracked and stained with grease. Cheap, corrugated metal served as roofs which did little else but keep out the weather, though rust and time had ruined that as well.

“Great.” Reigen had just finished lighting a cigarette and was now looking up at the darkening sky, a line of smoke rising from his lips. “Let’s get this done before it starts to rain.”

What few bits of nature that remained had barely managed to cling on. Serizawa remembered a movie where some old building had been reclaimed and covered in vines with plants breaking through the rubble that covered ground. Not here. Dried, brown grass peaked out from between the edges of the concrete paths, and what little dirt there was hosted nothing but sickly brambles that barely reached up a few feet. Glass lay shattered alongside other random debris causing their path to wind despite the straight, gridded construction. Not a single bird or insect could be heard.

“I think-“ Serizawa paused, giving a distant stare toward the far building on their left. A weak gust of wind billowed up dust that was less dirt and more eroded concert and rust. “I think I sense something.”

“Ugh.” Dimple floated over with little arms flopping down from his gaseous form. “No you don’t.” He cast an arrant glace at Serizawa. “Stop trying to impress all the time.”

A blush. Serizawa turned away.

“Hey.” Reigen exhaled through both his nose and lips, smoke trailing up and fading into the cloudy sky. A stiff hand rose nearly slicing through the floating spirit. “I only brought you along to help us ID this thing. Not to sass my employees.”

“Yeah whatever.” Dimple floated up right behind Reigen’s head. “Guess I’ll just have to sass only you then.”

Serizawa rubbed the back of his neck, still avoiding any eye contact. He really had felt something ahead, just weak and hard to focus on. Then he heard it: some scratching on the stone as a shadow moved along the side of the building. His feet shifted against the dusty path and he put himself between his boss and the entity, one arm ready at his side and the other out to keep Reigen from walking any closer.

“Stand back, Reigen-san!”

The air grew tense in the silence with only a few rustling sounds. Then there came a hiss and pebbles flew up as a cat bolted from its meager cover and fled down the path they had just came from.

“Ha ha!” Dimple made an exaggerated flip in the air. “A cat! You’re all worked up over a stupid stray cat!”

Frowning, Serizawa lowered his arm while his shoulders drooped. The client had reported a terrible spirit here that could even claw through the brick walls and metal support beams. Wasn’t it good he was being more safe than sorry?

“Wait.” Reigen stepped forward, holding his own serious expression despite the false alarm. “Look, there’s another one.”

Another cat emerged from a hole in the building’s wall followed by a smaller kitten: one ginger and one a dark tabby. They wandered across the path into another broken wall before disappearing.

“Odd there’s even animals here.” Reigen brought up a hand to his chin in contemplation. “This wasn’t any kind of food processing plant or storage. All construction and industry. Not like they’d have rats to prey on.”

Serizawa took comfort in Reigen’s knowledge but still let out a long exhale. Stay calm and focused, your boss is counting on you. He peered up into the sky to gather a few ounces of clarity before looking around for any more animals. Not a tree in site yet a few sparrows were sitting on an exposed metal pipe. Maybe that’s what the cats were feeding on? But then what were they eating? He flicked a glance at his boss hoping he had some kind of answer.

“Welp.” Reigen gave a stretch, bringing his cigarette up for a needed drag. “I’m gonna call this one a false alarm.” He turned and exhaled the lung full. “This is probably just some old lady feeding strays that someone thought was a witch or whatever.”

“No.” Serizawa took a few steps away from the group, staring ahead. “I still feel something.”

Crows started to caw from atop the building they had been heading for. There appeared to be over a dozen. All three watched as they formed a perfect circle in the air.

“I do too.” Dimple floated over with his arms crossed.

Reigen brought his hands up. “Alright, so give us some intel on it then.” He gestured at the floating green cloud. “You said you would actually be of help on this job.”

“Can it, pink tie.” A roll of the eyes. “We’re still far away. I can’t magically see through a wall that’s like 100 meters in front of us.”

“Humph.” Reigen grumbled under his breath. “Um, Serizawa?” He looked over at the esper now glaring up at a crow perched on the roof just to their left. “What do you see?”

Dimple jerked back. “Shit!”

That crow. Its eyes looked different. And the beak: somehow it was smiling. He didn’t care if he was wrong again, he had to protect Reigen. His arm rose involuntarily with the palm open and out while his eyes narrowed. Energy focused from his chest to his fingers, forming a concentrated burst. The crow turned and raised its wings at the last moment, flying off with a cackling, mocking call. All that was left was a crater in the stone where it has stood.

“Shit.” Dimple repeated as all three watched the bird fly into the far building through a broken window. All the other crows followed.

“So- demon crow spirit?” A pointing finger towards the window in the distance. Reigen stood before Serizawa and Dimple with his arms posed against his hips for only a moment before he started gesturing once more. “Obviously it’s controlling them. Probably stole some shiny, expensive trinket from our client.”

Dimple sank in the air. “Not even close, dude.”

Reigen crossed his arms. “Ok then oh wise ass- Hey wait!”

He had to stop this. Now. It was far more powerful than he thought, able to hide its true abilities with so many other vessels around it. His shoes skidded along the ground as he turned and entered the largest hole in the wall. Upper right in a bird, along the ground in a rat, along one of the beams as a cat- Serizawa tried to focus but could only stand there with his aura fuming for something to target.

“Oi- hey new c-company rule.” Reigen had caught up and now leaned against the opening with a hand on his chest, breathing hard. The cigarette had been left behind. “No running off into a creepy wareho- oh fuck.”

Serizawa had already noticed. This is where all the plants were. Oddly sick flowers grew along the ground with thorny brambles and a few stunted trees clinging to dead leaves. Above, vines hung down and stretched across the ceiling blocking whatever light would have came in through the holes in the roof. And amidst this cursed greenhouse stood a number of dogs, cats, and rats; all staring over at their new guests.

“Yeah. I was afraid of this.” Dimple had enough sense to only peek inside. “It’s a common type of spirit: posses some living thing and drain its energy over time. Normally likes to feed off of one thing at a time then move on to another victim, but some- well.” There came a hiss from the cats joined by crow calls. “Some like to make a collection.”

Serizawa gritted his teeth, brow furrowed with fists at his side. Left, up, right. Stop moving. Stop hiding. I won’t let you hurt anything else.

“Ohh! More friends to play with!” The voice echoed with a cackle of a cawing bird. The rest flew up into the air forming a fluttering circle around the hawk at the center. “I’ve always wanted a human for my own!” Wings rose, the feathers rotted and falling off. “And you brought a little green snack too.”

“Welp, good luck guys!”

And there went Dimple, flying off through the hole. Reigen shifted until he was behind Serizawa.

“You got this. Take it out.”

Nodding, Serizawa waited for the spirit to make the predictable first move. Knowing it was only lingering in the hawk as a decoy, he kept eying the other animals for a shift in energy. There! A dog tried a lunge from a flanking position but Serizawa was able to turn and release a wave in counter attack. A whine as the poor creature flopped to the ground, its drained body no longer supported by the evil spirit.

“Ohhh you missed!”

A cat, then a rat. Serizawa kept his power in check as to not harm the animals, but it proved difficult with how weak they already were.

“And again! Oh you are so much fun.”

The spirit would concentrate in one while influencing others around it only to jump to another and repeat. This led to an odd hive mind of uniform movement: the creatures mouths all open and eyes wide, stepping closer and closer. A cat latched on to his leg. It was a little ginger like the ones he remembered seeing in an alley he hid in one day after school as a kid. Serizawa frowned.

“What’s the matter? Don’t want to hurt the little kitties?”

More cats were now clawing at his pants with rats and the larger dogs not far behind. Serizawa could feel Reigen’s retreat backwards and he panicked.

“No Reigen-san!” He took his boss’s arm and pulled him close. “Stay by me or you’ll just end up another vessel for it.” Realizing he had gripped too hard he released, meeting Reigen’s eyes. “I’ll protect you.”

Reigen for once had nothing to say, only a nod with a frightened gaze looking back. Gathering his energy around them, Serizawa released a sphere that started from his chest and swelled larger into a shield. Every animal that came in contact with it were pushed back until there was now an angry force of claws and teeth and feathers pounding against the barrier. At least they were not being harmed.

“So cute. Think you’re so clever.”

Serizawa glared as the voice seemed to come from everywhere.

“But you forgot something.”

He tensed, waiting for an attack. A screech as the hawk slammed against the barrier, body broken with unnatural eyes staring right into Serizawa’s. The voice came out as a twisted yell.

“I ALWAYS GET WHAT I WANT.”

The barrier flared for a moment before cracking, releasing a wave of energy. All the animals were now still, most fallen over, others confused and weak on shaking legs.

Serizawa scanned the warehouse in a long arc, checking every animal, every possible vessel. Suddenly a hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to jerk as he turned, mind only now catching up with reality as he stared, wide eyed at his boss.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Reigen’s face was now pale with sharp teeth poking out from his lips. The words came out as a horrible, mocking hiss. “Did you like this one?”

“No- NO!”

Serizawa stepped back, watching as Reigen stumbled and fell forward, his movement like a child learning to walk. He couldn’t help it and rushed forward, trying to support him. The skin felt cold but there was still a heartbeat.

“Reigen-san!”

A twisted, inhuman face grinned back. “Mine now! So much better than dogs and cats!”

Without thinking, Serizawa gripped Reigen by the collar and lifted him up, pinning the body against the wall a few inches off the ground. His limbs trembled while his muscles clenched along with his jaw.

“Let him go. Now.” His voice came out low and steady in contrast to his frantic mind and raging aura.

Another smile. “You should be the one letting go.” A hand raised and rested on one of Serizawa’s tensed, shaking arms, the now clawed fingers trailing down his sleeve. “I like this one.” The neck lurched forward with a crack. Inhuman eyes glared back, the pupils shrinking to small black pinpoints. “So good luck getting me out with him still alive.”

The grip tightened as Serizawa raised Reigen up higher. His boss was still in there, lost, forced to a corner helpless only to watch. Ignoring the confident grin, Serizawa closed his eyes, blocking out any other stimulus save for the auras around him. The animals were weak but clinging. Dimple was still a far way off; powerless against something like this. And in the middle of it all hung Reigen’s energy. It was not yet weakened only entwined: the evil spirit’s tendrils weaved all around like some fungal infection. But there had to be a way. Like a tangled ball of yawn he had to be able to undo the knots.

“H-hey! How are you doing that?!”

The claws raked at Serizawa’s chest, ripping his suit up. Legs thrashed and lungs hissed in fruitless desperation. Amid the writhing he stood firm, focused as he carefully guided his aura between the monster and his boss.  The growling turned to a weary groan. Serizawa opened his eyes to color returning to Reigen’s face and the teeth and claws fading away.

He glared at the remaining bit of the spirit still clinging on. “You can’t have him.”

A burst of energy rose, sweeping up the wall originating from Reigen’s form. Both their suit ties and hair were blown up along with several stones and debris. The wall behind cracked. Screaming started, not from Reigen’s mouth but from inside him before the sprit was torn out, thrashing in the air one last time while Serizawa closed his anger around it. The wind stopped.

“Ugh.” Reigen slumped in Serizawa’s hold, head of messy hair against his shoulder. “Wha- what happened?”

At once Serizawa shifted his grip, guiding his boss down to the ground where he held up his chest and head. Gone was his intense stare with only concern looking down now.

“Are you alright?” Tears started to form as he realized his hadn’t prevented the spirit from draining some of Reigen’s life force. “Please be alright.”

“Feel like I woke up from a hangover.” Reigen tried to raise his head but instead just grumbled and brought a hand up to his forehead. It was only then he realized Serizawa was cradling him in gentle arms- their faces inches from each other. His fingers traced the claw marks on his employee’s suit. “Um. I think I definitely missed something.”

“Reigen-san!” Serizawa trembled before hugging his boss against his chest. “I’m so sorry! I messed up!” He was sobbing now as he buried his face in Reigen’s neck. “It was going to take you I tried to get it out but now you are hurt.” His arms hugged tighter. “I was supposed to protect you!”

“W-woah! Hey!” Reigen protested. “It’s ok big guy! I’m fine.” He pushed back a bit and tried to give some comfort. “Just a headache. So no worries.” A grin, cheeks blushing. “You did great.”

Serizawa’s tear filled eyes met Reigen’s and in their embrace, their lips grew closer, heat rising between them.

“Yeah dang. Even I can admit you did pretty good.”

Dimple floated over, causing Serizawa to drop Reigen in embarrassment.

“Sorry, Reigen-san!” He brushed off some of the dust on both of them, helping Reigen to stand.

A cough. “Where the hell have you been?” Reigen glared up at Dimple, cheeks still red. “Coulda maybe used a heads up or some support.”

“Sorry greatest psychic.” Dimple sneered back. “Best I could have done is maybe posses you first, but that thing was too powerful.” He picked at his nose, eyeing the dying plants twisted vines. “It would have just kicked me out.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Reigen coughed again. “Why did I even bring you?”

Serizawa frowned down at his boss. “Can you walk, Reigen-san?” He bent over him ever worried.

“Uh. Give me like five minutes.”

Dimple floated in between the two before they could make googly eyes at each other again. “You brought me because instead of researching spirits yourself, the two of you sit on the couch watching cute animal videos together during office breaks.”

Both looked away, clearly called out. One of the cats hobbled up followed by a dog. Despite the trauma they were happy to see humans. The cat gave a face rub against Serizawa’s leg. Reigen got to pet the dog.

“Huh. They seem to be way less um- dying? Than before.” Reigen stiffly rose to his feet as the dog wandered out of the building, tail wagging.

“Yeah. Should be fine. The thing kept them alive so they just need some food and rest.”

Dimple watched as the other animals scattered back to their own lives. The birds preened at their feathers before taking awkward launches into the air.

“We stopped it. So no one else will get hurt.” Reigen grimaced and faltered his first few steps.

Serizawa instantly wrapped his arms around his boss again. “Reigen-san. The rain is coming.”

Dimple was still ranting in the background. “What do you mean ‘we’? All you did was nearly piss yourself and get possessed.”

The two couldn’t hear him anymore. Reigen let out a sigh. “Yeah. We should get going. I can probably maybe make it to the bus stop.”

Serizawa gave a short bow of his head, one of his arm around Reigen’s back as the man held on to his suit lapel. “If you allow me, Reigen-san,” he paused for a moment to allow his brain catch up with his mouth, “I can carry you.”

Reigen blinked back. “A-Alright.” His voice snapped back into its confident prose. “But only this one time. This is an extenuating circumstance that requires advanced, unorthodox protocols to handle properly. I’ll have to amend the employee handbook to include more robust first aid and recovery instructions.”

Serizawa cracked a grin. How was he too weak to walk but able to fling his hands around like that still?

“Understood.” Another bow of his head as he support his boss’s weight under the knees and back, lifting him up.

He walked steadily, stealing a few glances down at Reigen who was struggling to keep his eyes open after the entire ordeal. A few drops of rain fell, their arrival producing little musical sounds as they hit the metal roofs. Dimple floated after, having long given up on anything getting through to them.    

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 3

Prompts: Angst / Kai Recs! *aka the best combo ahahaaaa*

Angst Recs (get ready for a lot of Wu being sad):

The Tale of the Teacher: BASICALLY a look at Wu's very tragic life through the eyes of Wu himself, and my personal inspiration for all things, well, Wu and tragic (and you do need to be logged into an Ao3 account for this one). A must-read for all Wu fans, and especially for those who are not~

Photographs: Wu reminiscences on all he's lost in the midst of Season 11 through pictures of times gone by~

No Eye For These: Wu reflects on losing his brother, right after just banishing him ;w;

It Will Rain Again Someday: Not necessarily angst but fills me with enough emotional damage to feel like it is, Wu adores his older brother so so so so much, even when they butt heads, even when they have opposing but equal opinions, even when they're on opposite sides of the battle field...probably the most potent Spinjitzu Brothers thing I've ever read. Changed my brain chemistry, man.

for want (for nothing): the staff corrupted!kai story that speaks to me very specifically snksnksnk Reading the gradually (or not so gradually) descent into enveloping himself in all that power is maddening and awesome and so very painful

Cry Me a River: Kai Post-Seabound; short, bitter, visceral, and powerful in the deliverance of emotions~

Married to the Sea: In case anyone wanted to relieve the pain that is Seabound's ending again, but with a Jay-colored coat of paint <3

half hearted-boy, maybe we'll have more connection: GUT-WRENCHING thing on parallels b/w Lloyd and Harumi. I am not the same person i was before. Tragedy does not have an age limit.

Kai Recs:

All I've Ever Known: One of the best kind of fics- Kai having to cope with team bonding during the events of the pilots <3(I have very obvious tastes). But! Has a lot of introspective Kai moments and outrospective (?) moments with him and the future team he's one day never going to imagine a time without.

Spice, and Everything Nice: Kai, in both a show of brotherly love and brotherly pride, attempts to outdo his siblings in a test of all things spice and chocolate. It's just so cute aaaaaaa!!!!

Bonfire: Lloyd wants to make a fire, Zane tries to offer suggestions, and Kai makes it personal. Slice of Life fic that would have made for a nice little episode during Season 2, honestly! And a nice look at the characters outside of their normally hectic settings~

Flicker: A story about Kai and the warmth he brings to himself and others, doesn't seem like much at first but you will be gutpunched by love and softness by the end~

Bucket List: In the category of angst and Kai with probably a guilty pleasure fic of mine, Kai strikes a deal with Morro and a horrifying journey of self-discovery ensues. It get a little dark but it's funny, gripping, heart-wrenching, and will probably have you looking at Kai in a new light by the end of it.

N Stands for Neutral: Kai teaches Lloyd to drive, chaos ensues, nuff said

Why Birds Fly: Probably not for the squeamish around eggs, insects, or ear-related agony (it's not nearly as bad as I'm making it sound I promise just being cautious) BUT another non-life-threatening crisis story that has an amazing dynamic between Kai, Cole and Jay, and their tendency to be both the best brothers you could ask for and the absolute worst.

The Process of Making Amends: Kai and Garmadon butting head and it's goes about as well as you'd expect....but, there is one thing they can reach a consensus on.

Going, Going, Gone: Vintage Classic on kai's take on Skylor throughout Season 4. Definitely Kailor, but also not exactly "shippy". It really is more of a character examination in the form of lil snippets and it lives in my mind rent-free.

From What It Was: Kai reflects on all the changes in the team post-s7. It makes me misty-eyed every time ;w;

Kai and the Futile Fist Fight: Anyone wanna see Kai and Jay have a real fight during Crystalized, with 50% more awesome fight moves and 50% more raw emotion and 100% more Kai being distressed over his sister in his own way? Here ya go!

"Mr. Smith" At Your Service: Kai pretends to be Nya's father. Nya gets far too much of a kick out of it, and it goes about a well as you'd expect snksnksnk

broken pieces: More Pilots!ninja bonding, short and sweet and ofc with a special focus on Kai! Left a very big impression on me, haha

this isn't how it's supposed to be: MOAR PILOT BONDINGGGGGGG and UNGH it's so BEAUTIFUL, especially love the character dialogue in this one!

[slenbee]

These were some ideas that I had for dashboard and blog features that I wanted to share after the boop-a-palooza we had yesterday (April 1st). Please share with others for a bigger sample size, thank you! -- Aquarium on your blog and/or dash 🐠 Users pick out some fish from a variety of options along with tank gravel color, decorations, etc. People who visit your blog can feed your fish. Additional items can be found just by scrolling and being clicked on in the sidebars of the dash or by visiting other blogs Fish tank bubble ambiance noises. (They don't even have to be animated fish. jpg fish would work just fine. Bring back that old school look and feel)

-- Pets on your blog and/or dash. 🐈🐕‍🦺 Similar to the Aquarium, users could either find animals on their dash and/or 'adopt' them which puts them in a little animal house on your blog that you can decorate with items also found while scrolling. Allow users to pick up and place one of the animals onto the dash, which allows it to wander around and/or possibly follow the mouse. You can pet the animal by clicking on it. You can play with the animal ie pick up ball with mouse or touchscreen (mobile) and drag it and leg to to 'throw' it. Allow users to put up animals for 'adoption' so that other users can adopt/trade/swap them with one another. There's dozens of types of cats and dogs out there, so think of it like collecting pokemon. :) Plus you could get wacky with it and do like.. fantasy stuff. Wizard Cat, Pirate Doxie, a dragon... etc.

-- Window to the outside on the dashboard 🌧 Let users put a window (literal window) on the web dashboard in the lower left/right corner that can be changed to play different types of weather. For example, if you choose to go with 'rain/thunderstorm', it would show rain pelting against the glass with clouds and thunder while also playing sounds like something from rainymood. If someone chose nighttime, there would be a moon filled sky (possibly reflects location?) with stars and the sound of insects and/or peepers (frogs). Daytime would have birds chirping, you get the idea.

[apoemaday]

The Poem

by Vladimir Nabokov

Not the sunset poem you make when you think aloud, with its linden tree in India ink and the telegraph wires across its pink cloud;

not the mirror in you and her delicate bare shoulder still glimmering there; not the lyrical click of a pocket rhyme— the tiny music that tells the time;

and not the pennies and weights on those evening papers piled up in the rain; not the cacodemons of carnal pain; not the things you can say so much better in plain prose—

but the poem that hurtles from heights unknown —when you wait for the splash of the stone deep below, and grope for your pen, and then comes the shiver, and then—

in the tangle of sounds, the leopards of words, the leaflike insects, the eye-spotted birds fuse and form a silent, intense, mimetic pattern of perfect sense.

[moonchild-in-blue]

The Mist (Sleep Token)

So this is the aftermath of this very cool post by @reveries-of-my-mind. I was supposed to get it done weeks ago, but alas. It is here now I suppose.

Basically is Vessel as a kid (he's adorable here 🥺), wandering around in the woods, and encountering a Magical Clearing with a Strange Mist. Slightly different from my original idea, but it's actually kinda cute?? This was supposed to be much shorter, but once I start writing, it's hard to stop lol. 2k is not too bad though, right?

Anyways, here it is. I hope you like it Kay 🍄 (Also I used your picture for the divider, hope you don't mind!) 🌿🌹

The Mist had been with him ever since he could remember. As Vessel looked over his window, morning coffee in hand, a thin layer of fog covered his garden, speckled with red flowers.

---

It was a Saturday morning like any other. The sun peeked shyly behind grey clouds, extending its warm fingers to the earth bellow, still wet from the earlier rain.

His grandparents’ garden overlooked the great forest behind, lush trees and a sparkling creek impassively waiting behind the white fence. For any eight-year-old boy in the midst of summer holidays, with no friends around and plenty of time to kill, the woods were the perfect playground.

Everyday he would venture into the forest. He knew each and every rock and bush that formed the path to the stream. He knew which berries were the sweetest; which tree provided better shade. His grandfather had taught him to recognize the different singing birds and where they nested – under his bed, a shoebox containing his growing collection of nature findings was filled with all types of feathers, carefully catalogued in a piece of crinkled paper.

Today, he had decided to be a little braver. He would go on an adventure. With a very nice stick in hand, and a backpack full of sandwiches, two tangerines, and a water bottle - lovingly provided by his grandmother - the blonde boy ventured further into the woods.

---

After a little while of walking, his first sandwich long gone, the boy reached a tunnel encrusted on the base of a ridge, no bigger than his little frame, completely dark aside from a very faint light coming from the opposite entrance. It seated inconspicuously behind a curtain of leaves and vines, barely visible to anyone not paying attention.

But to the adventurous boy, nothing escaped his sight. His little blue eyes twinkled with excitement. Finally, something new. He adjusted his backpack straps, took a deep breath, and crawled his way through the hole.

With scrapped knees and spider webs clinging to his hair and clothes, the boy stood in an unfamiliar clearing, tall and quite proud of himself for making it through the dark, scary tunnel.

The first thing he noticed was the silence. Usually the woods were brimming with life, the sounds of birds, shuffling creatures, and buzzing insects, serving as companions to his lone hummings. But here, on the other side of the mysterious passage, the sound seemed to deafen to a low whisper, almost as if the ground itself was vibrating. As if the trees were talking amongst themselves.

Then, there was the mist.

The clearing was a small, rounded meadow, carpeted with soft grass and a shallow brook, towering trees adorning the edges. A gentle shadow, cast by the leafy canopies, draped the enclosure in green light. And hovering over the grass, swirling in intricate, delicate patterns, was a fine layer of white mist.

Whenever a sun beam pierced the strange fog, the mist parted like tiny crystal prisms, painting the glade with translucent rainbows. The boy was elated – he had never seen or imagined something so extraordinary, not even in his wildest dreams. And this place, this enchanted forest, was all his!

The boy suddenly felt very important. He knew this place was special, and it had must be protected, like a closely guarded secret. His little heart thumped with excitement and wonder, sparkling blue eyes drinking in his surroundings. As he walked further inside the clearing, the boy noticed how the mist seemed to halt its movements, as if it could feel his presence.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m an explorer! See?”

He brandished his stick in the air, proving his harmlessness to the Mist.

“Can I seat here?” he asked, pointing to the soft grass bellow. The Mist seemed to respond, swirling ever-so-slightly around his pale ankles.

Satisfied with this reply, the boy slumped down on the ground, glad to be able to rest after what if felt like hours walking. He took off his shoes and socks, and laid back on the grass, singing contently to himself. What an amazing discovery! I should keep this in my notebook.

From the dirty backpack, he produced a colourful sketchpad and a pencil case, along with his water-bottle and snacks. The pad was halfway filled with a myriad of drawings: several birds and leaves, his grandparent’s yard, countless types of mushrooms and insects, and even some strange-looking forest gnomes, no doubt inspired by the bedtime stories his grandfather would read him. Anything he would come across during his adventures was recorded in his notebook, and this mysterious place, this important secret of his, deserved several pages dedicated to it.

After a few hours of drawing the clearing and the swirling fog, and when the last of his food had been consumed, the boy knew it was time to go home. Before leaving, he chose some of the prettiest pebbles he gathered from the brook and made a neat little pile in the place he had been seated earlier, as a thank you to the mist for showing him such a wonderful place.

“Goodbye trees! Goodbye Mist! I’ll come back tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this place – I’m very good at keeping secrets you know?” he waved his little arms farewell, hoping somehow the forest would hear him.

The Mist twirled over his little rock offering, and the boy left with a grin, very pleased with himself for being able to talk with the magic fog.

---

When he stood in front of the dark tunnel the next day, his stomach felt funny with dread. What if the misty clearing was no longer there? What if it was all his imagination? No, it was there! It’s all here on my notebook. Once again he took a deep breath, adjusted his backpack, and crossed the dark passage to the secluded meadow.

And there it was – the strange vapour, the leafy canopies, the soft grass. Just as he had left it. He could hardly contain his excitement, blonde hair bouncing up and down as he skipped over to his pile of rocks. Curiously enough, a single flower bloomed next to it, five deep-red petals sprouting beautifully, filling the air with an intoxicatingly sweet scent. It was the only form of vegetation in the whole clearing, aside from the giant trees and verdant grass.

(Later that night the boy would show his drawing of it to his grandfather, and be met with half disappointment, half curiosity, by learning that the flower had no name, nor had it been sighted anywhere else before.)

He spent the day much like before: drawing, playing in the brook, napping under the giant canopies and the feather-light touches of the dancing cloud. At last, the time to leave had come, and just like the previous day, he left a little offering with sticks for the Mist, this time near the entrance to the tunnel.

---

And so the boy spent his summer. Everyday he would come to the clearing, no longer afraid of the once scary tunnel, and find a new crimson bloom near his offerings. He had learned that the Mist was somewhat sentient – the low rumble he had once thought to be the trees talking seemed to come from the Mist itself. It was almost imperceptible at first, but his curious child ears had become attuned to the quiet murmur.

The boy also learned that the Mist liked to hear him sing. Whenever he started to hum to himself, the swirling intensified, as if dancing along to his music. He couldn’t quite make out what they all meant, but his twinkling blue eyes began to recognise some of the swirling patterns as a language of sorts.

The summer turned into months, into years. The once young child, with colourful sketchpads and scrapped knees, his little heart full of wonder and joy, became a teenager - lanky, brooding, and lonely. Instead of drawings and sticks, he now carried black notebooks, full of poetry, of musings, of songs. Every holiday, and whenever he had a long weekend, he would make the trip to his grandparents’ house and to his secret garden.

Throughout the years, the clearing had become his safe place, a haven from all the pain he had had to endure. He liked to lay back on the grass, as he had so many times before as a kid, and sing to his heart’s content, while the Mist happily twirled around him.

He was certain the Mist could talk, too. Whenever he closed his eyes, now dark blue with hurt, eager to sink into the warm ground beneath him, he could feel it whisper in his ear. Sometimes it was loud and clear as day, others it would be little more than a quiet purr. It wasn’t any language he could recognise, much like the queer symbols and patterns he had now memorized, nimbly scribbled on the margins of his notebooks.

But he heard it all the same.

The Mist knew him like anyone else. In the clearing, he had the freedom to be himself fully. The boy had shared every joy, every pain, every heartbreak with it. And in return, the Mist would grace him with feather-like touches, with new swirling patterns, with long naps and vivid dreams; with bouts of inspiration, whenever his music felt inadequate.

And with flowers. Always those strange flowers, red as blood, and oh so very fragrant.

---

Time passed, and the boy was now a man.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was there. It had been years since he had last been in this clearing, real life catching up on him. He wasn’t even sure he would still be able to find it. The forest had considerably changed since the last time he had been there. The house in which he had once spent long summers in no longer existed.

It was silly, really. To seek comfort in what if felt like an imaginary friend. To run back to childhood safety once things had gone wrong.

Oh, and how they have gone wrong.

He stood there, expecting to see the crimson flowers and sparkling brook. To feel the soft grass beneath his feet once more. But the flowers were gone. The once gloriously green canopies loomed dry and brittle over him. All that remained were the little piles of rocks and sticks he had so carefully arranged many lifetimes ago. Gone was the lush grass and soft ground.

And gone was the Mist.

The man fell to his knees and wept. How did things get this way? How was he supposed to carry on living without a heart? Without her?

He sobbed himself to exhaustion, unconcerned about the impending night time, about his fate. Maybe it was for the best.

Oh child, we know that is not true. Why are you so distressed, my little one?

For the first time in years, the sweet fragrance of the red flowers enveloped him completely. His exposed skin prickled with emotion and fear – he had never heard the Mist this clearly before. Suddenly he was his teenage self again, longing to be embraced and understood by the one who knew him best.

“I’m truly alone now. And I don’t want to be. I’m tired.”

Oh, child.

The Mist chuckled, a low purr vibrating in the man’s chest. Their voice was unlike any other. It was wind, and water, and music combined. Somehow he knew to keep his eyes shut.

I can sense your pain. You don’t have to be alone anymore. I am here, am I not?

“I don’t even know if you are real. Maybe I have gone truly crazy. Clouds don’t talk.”

Humm. Such disbelief. I liked you better when you were young.

“What do you want from me?”

A rush of cold wind swept his blonde hair back. Every cell in his body was screaming to get away, and yet he was unable to move.

I can take your pain away. I can stay with you, make everything better. Would you like that?

“I… Who are you?”

Humm. Another chuckle.

You can call me Sleep.

[cecelazul]

So you wanna write better

Forests!

Dont worry, its not that hard! By the end of this, you'll most likely have some extra juicy ideas on all the things you can put into your forrest scenes (from a certified "I live next to a forest and also studied this" person).

Ive divided this into Emotions, Smell, Sound, Sight and Feel. Scroll to whichever part you need help with!

The literal forest

Forests are places of change in literature. That doesnt mean every forest needs to change your protagonist. But because they are often vast, unclaimable and dangerous - not to mention mythical and powerful, primal and maybe divine - they tend to have an effect on your protagonist.

A place of change (or power) can mean many things, and depending on your story and your stories culture, this might not apply. But generally speaking, a forest is a large and uncomprehensibly complex thing that provides an opportunity to face nature.

But! Remember that this thinking stems from the culture vs. nature debate in literature and you do not have to follow it.

The natural forest

Emotions

By day, a forest looks very different than by night. Its almost a beast in itself, a gnawing machine that does not care for you.

How does your protagonist feel by day, when everything is bright and loud and endless and green? When water gurgles and birds chirp at them. How do they feel by night, when lack of light makes shadows endless and the reduced sounds echo in a vast and uncaring void? Does their campfire provide enough warmth against the elements? Do they have lanterns, flashlights, specialty goggles that allow them to see? The forest creaks and shouts without them needing to witness it, it echoes and enlarges sounds, swallows them too. Are they familiar with that? Does their heart raise at the foreigness of it all?

Horror

Remember that cityfolk tend to be freaked out by forests much more than ruralfolk. Remember that sounds that could be familiar to you (the creaking of wood with heat and cold, the strange chirps of birds, the blubbering of a spring) could be completely foreign to another. Remember that everything Ive written from here on out relies heavily on familiarity. Remember that the size of a forest also determines how calming it is.

How far are you from civilisation? Who could come to help you? Which animals are out there? Which familiar sights arent around you at the moment?

A forest that leaves you stranded and closed off from civilisation is terrifying to everyone who doesnt know the land. It is a maw. It could bite down any moment. A forest without signs, without manmade paths, without civilisation is a place to die in. Or a place to get lost in. The horror of the forest is the forest itself. Its the fact that you dont know it. It is the fact that it is an endless stretch of unknown that does not care for you.

Sound

Forests are incredibly "loud" in a subtle way. There are always birds, insects, the wind in the leafs, the steps of animals over wood, leafs, water. You can listen to some birdcalls online (some of them are super strange) or search on sites like freesound.org for natural recordings of forests to grasp just how much fucking Sound™ there is. Silence in a forest means bad things. Are the animals dead? Hiding? Where did all the insects go? If there isnt any buzzing, are there still worms? Bugs? What happened to the wind? If your forest is silent, thats a choice. Employ it!

Smell

Forests tend to smell "fresh". I know, that degree really serves me. But in all honesty: You are walking through a natural lung. The air is being filtered 24/7. Forests literally breathe like you and I do and they are excellent at it. If you are closer to running water this increases. After rain, the air has qualities of that grass scent you know from your garden. You also smell a lot of rot. Leafs, trees, dying plants. They tend to smell good to us. The only time that rot becomes unbearable is (afaik) two cases:

The carcass that is rotting is an animal of larger size. Small sized animals dont "smell" unless you're very close to them. And most animals that are small get taken by scavengers. You wont find them rotting, because they will be eaten before you get there. Its only once the carcass is so large that it cant be eaten at once or fast or it has some venomous qualities that you will find rot.

The other options is rot in still water. It wont smell immediately, but still water tends to take on scent after a few days. The scent of still water should be familiar to you from old puddles or algae infested waters. It will be ridden with bacteria and - and dont forget about this - larvae! Amphibians and insects love some stiller waters for that stuff.

Sight

This might be easiest: You've probably seen a forest in your lifetime. I wont bore you with "green leafs" and "blue skies". Instead, lets go over some more uncommon scenarios, often forgotten:

Moss. Moss is everywhere. Its on stones, on wood, on treebarks. There are over a hundred different species of moss. Google them. Moss in itself is a little eco system.

Treewounds (also known as tree cancer). Trees get nibbled on. They get scratched at. They have sicknesses. And then they tend to grow in these tumor looking things. Apart from that, they can have gaping open wounds from broken off branches, from birds pecking into them, from insects infesting them. Trees paint the history and the health of a forest. Take time to mention what they look like.

Pathways. Even if no human (or other protagonist species) has ever set food into your forest. There will be paths in the undergrowth. Paths often traveled by many tiny paws. They tend to lead to other such paths, to water, sometimes to good food sources and to gathering places. You need to train your eye a little but you'll find them.

Nests. For insects, for birds, for everyone involved. Clusters of larvae under bark or stone or attached to ferns, swimming in water, nestled into mud. Birdnests placed into treeholes and cliffsides. Holes in the ground that lead to mice, rabbits, you name it.

Feel

What does a forest feel like? That depends. Bark is incredibly textured. It has valleys and hilltops, it swirls under your fingers like a miniature map of cartography. No bark is the same. Birches are flat, fruit trees are coarser and the older the tree, the gnarlier it is. Look at pictures of trees and look at the bark. Stones can be all kinds of coarse and rough but they are so much softer when overgrown with moss. They are almost like pillows. The pathways are often soft soil, compressed by hundreds of feets. They might have stones in them. Waterbeds are muddy and soft, but oftentimes carry pebbles and other uncomfortable rocks in them. Mud itself is like a very soft peeling. Most dirt in waterbeds has been washed clean and soft by time. The newer a waterbed, the coarser it is. The middle of the riverbed will always be harsher than the sides. Mud deposits as sediment after all. Clay feels soft too. Sticking your feet and hands into the muddier parts of a river is always a gamble. There might be something living there. Be aware.

Oh look, a transition

Hope this helps anyone! Have a great day :)

If you have any further questions or suggestions, do ask!

[samandarkilehar]

If these cracked walls could talk, they'd tell you tales of over a hundred years.

The generation of

my great grandfather followed by

my grandfather and

my father,

My brother and

Me.

To the generations to be followed.

When it rains and the water leaks from the gaps on the ceiling

Reminds me of my emotions when it rains anxiety on me.

They cover the gaps with cement, I hide mine away with bandaids

My heart has the same holes you know, insects crawl out and feed on my thoughts.

The spiders weave a beautiful web,

They stare at it amused by its delicacy,

Beautiful to others.

A Dread to me.

I'm phobic to those 8 legged creatures

just as the 2 legged ones here.

Flakes of chipped paint falls on my hair every morning

I step out to comb my insecurities tangled within the strands.

The garden has its tales, it knows the taste of my blood.

It knows the sound of my happiness.

I hope it remembers my tantrums and my love.

I hear the birds chirping, they stop when I giggle.

I stare at the clouds moving, next moment it's just plain sky.

I pick up a flower on the ground, It withers away.

I have the urge to scream, it rains. Always.

Like it knows when to pour on me so I don't burn in my own fire. 

It's changed now. My home is aging and I get to live there just for few days a year.

I hope it knows that I'll keep it safe in my memories.

I hope it keeps the pieces of me that I buried in its bricks.

Yet I wonder,

Would it ever narrate the stories it has only heard from me but never witnessed ? 

-P// Lehar

Image is the actual photo of my childhood home