#colorful kimono dress

[tapeskingdom]

Kimono Girl oil paper umbrella washi tape

[mushtoons]

father-daughter bonding time ❤️ wonder what they're talking about 🤔

[dazzelmethat]

A very rough Sesshomaru in a woman's kimono. Well he was always wearing a furisode so I just threw in an obi on it. I may fix this up or not.

[cryptidcalling]

Vesper would look absolutely stunning in a kimono as well <3

[megaclubdiolis]

🌕💙💛🧡🤍🍶

[justalazytrashpanda]

Pspspsps hey tumblrina’s what kind of dress should I give Teruko

[donaviolet]

my first drawing in Clip Studio Paint!! I'm still figuring out all tools but it's so satisfying to use :3

[kaelula-sungwis]

Tea Ceremony by Bastian Kratzke Via Flickr: Laowa 35mm 0.95 on Sony A7III

[indiatrendzs]

Hey Free Spirits! Let's Talk Boho Vibes! Mogul Interior

Welcome to my little corner of bohemian magic, where every piece is handpicked, ethically made, and oh-so-full of soul. We’re all about slow fashion, and most of what you’ll find here is beautifully handcrafted Fashio Wear. These aren’t just clothes—they’re vibrant, feel-good vibes you can wear! Bright colors, bold patterns, and happy energy are what we live for. Trust me, when you step into our…

[grafikita]

Batik karya Farah Mohan

[mekyrdesign]

Step into the vibrant world of the “Neon 1980s Kimono,” where bold colors and retro design meet traditional elegance. This stunning piece features an eye-catching neon palette, perfect for making a statement at any event. The “Neon 1980s Kimono” blends modern flair with classic motifs, making it a versatile addition to your wardrobe. Drape yourself in this unique creation and embody the spirit of the 80s while enjoying ultimate comfort and style.

[sttoru]

Trueform sukuna who never kisses his concubines. EXCEPT he only kisses his favorite concubine aka reader 😞🎀

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. you’re the only one deserving of lord sukuna’s.. direct affection.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. fluff, suggestive at most. uhh exhibitionism ? kinda but nothing crazy sexual happens, so pda. size difference. reader gets called ‘doll.’

you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.

it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.

you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.

“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”

you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.

him.

“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.

sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.

“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”

it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.

your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.

you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.

it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.

you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.

you’ve had it all.

no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.

“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.

you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.

“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.

his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.

you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.

all that official business can suck his dick.

sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.

the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.

“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.

you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.

sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.

“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”

you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.

either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.

[tapeskingdom]

Kimono Girl oil paper umbrella washi tape

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Batfam x Neglected Mortal

Kombat reader

Notes: this is part ten to lucid dreams.

Warnings ⚠️: not proofread. Mentions of death, killing, and child abuse.

The room felt as if it was the perfect temperature. The bed was the softest you've ever slept on. And you were tired as hell.

But sadly, you couldn't fall asleep.

But you weren't quite awake either. You were somewhere in between reality and a sweet relief.

Yet your mind couldn't choose which to go with.

Your body on the other hand was begging for sleep ,but your mind just wouldn't listen.

Your ears strain on instinct as you hear steps walking towards your room. They're not loud steps but not quite steps either.

They want you to hear them coming.

You sit up lazily still tired from your restless night. Your door opens and you straighten up ready for whoever walks in.

Three maids walk in dressed in black attire. They look kinda like nuns but their way more stealthy then anyother nun.

They bow as the see you and shoot you a stern glare as they see you still in bed.

"Long time no see loyce." You say to the head maid.

These women practically raised you.

As harsh as they might have been they never left you without proper care.

Loyce was the oldest of the three. And the other two you didn't know if they were mute or just weren't allowed to talk. But they never spoke. So you referred to them as Emine and Kira.

They circle around your sitting form like cats watching their pray. Their studying you. Every little detail. They have to see what need improving..

"Get in the bath." Loyce says quickly. And you groan.

"I can bath myself. " You protest as you make your way into the bathroom.

They give you a stern glare and you shake your head not amused. This was their job. They needed you to be perfect.

Undressing and stepping into the big tile tub you sit down In the warm water they've prepared. The grab brushes and shampoos of all sorts. They rub hard against your body and you groan and try and push them away.

Which does nothing but earn you a slap on the wrist with the wood handle of the brush.

"Why does your hair look this color?" Loyce speaks up.

"I dyed it once. It's been like this ever since."

You can practically hear them shaking their heads in disappointment.

Once their finished giving you a bath you smell absolutely delicious. And your skin hasn't been this hydrated in years and your muscles aren't so sore.

Their quick to dry you off not sparring a second.

And looking out the window the sun hasn't risen.

Their hands work quickly to get you dressed. And into some comfortable under garments.

Looking into the big mirror the have you sitting infront of you can see they've washed all the remaining bit of dye you had once had.

They begin straightening your hair with a devilishly hot straightener. Leaving no trace of your typical normal hair.

Your hair perfectly straight leaving not one hair out of place. They do your hair into a simple half up half down hair do.

As the begin with your make up. Simple but elegant.

Pretty enough for a princess.

Finally finishing up with your make up they lather your skin with lotion and oils giving you glowy skin.

Finally putting on your big elegent kimono. Your ready.

"What's the rush?" You say as they hurriedly slip on your shoes.

"Your father wants to see you immediately. " Loyce says speaking for the three of them.

You hum and nod knowing your father is impatient man.

"All this just to see my father..." You say looking at your reflection as the spray perfume on you.

You truly did look like a princess.

"The king," Loyce corrects you. " he's not only your father but the king...keep that in mind princess. " loyce says sternly like a mother teaching her child manners.

As they finally slip on your other shoe they take a moment to look at you. Making sure your absolutely perfect.

"You've grown beautifully....just like your mother." Loyce says and the other two nod agreeing with her. You mentally flinch at her words.

'Just like your mother.' She just had to add. You shake your head clearing these thoughts as they lead you outside room and into the big hallway.

The sun is casting over the horizon and you can't help but watch through the windows as you continue walking.

This place might have been cruel but it was beautiful nevertheless.

You walk through the big stone walls straight to father office. Just like you did many years ago.

You feel more anxious with each step. And your maids can tell. The give you a light sqeez on the arm as if trying to comfort you with their actions.

The other maids and servants bow as you pass and admire your beauty.

Finally arriving at your father office your maids bow and you dismiss them.

They each give a kiss to your cheek just like they've done ever since you were a baby.

Their kiss is not something their forced to do.

It's highly looked down apon to show any sorts of affection in the castle.

But they do it to show love. To show they care despite their cold demeanor.

Opening and stepping through your father's office doors you see him. Or more like his back.

His office looks the same dimly lit with candle and a small window. The red tiles clean ,and shiny as it always is and the pale color of the room adds to the beauty and aura.

Your father stands with his back facing you. And his long hair is tied into a bun. You can see the little gray hair peeking from his bun showing change. His growth.

Though you've grown he still looks as tall as ever. Still taller then you.

You can remember all the time you've been called to his office before. None of them were good. Hopefully now that'd be different.

But you'd be a fool to hope for something so soon. So you keep quiet, reading the room and atmosphere.

He begins talking and his voice is loud and confident just like you remember it. And you almost flinch at the sudden sound but you stand your ground. Your gaze never wavering from his back as he lights another candle.

"My girl......it's been so long...to long."

He says the last part with venom most as if he's angry at the time you've been away.

"Tell me....did you miss me?" He questions and he still doesn't turn around as he lights another candle and you wants scoff but you don't.

"Miss what? Your cruelty?" You say and you wish you could stop the words that flow out of your mouth but it's too late you've said them.

He doesn't filnch and his confidence doesn't waver at your words almost like he was expecting them.

"Ah... so you've devolved my tongue I see.... A great quality to have but it can get you into alot of trouble."

He says and you can tell he's smirking he likes that you've developed something of his.

He like your boldness. Because you undeniably got that from him.

He turns around before you can come back with a witty remark. And for a moment you have nothing to say. Your mind goes blank as your eyes meet his.

It's almost like he hasn't changed. Like not a day had gone by. But it has...his eyes widen but not in fear...no his eyes widen but only for a moment because he's proud.

"You've grown so much..." He says his voice barely louder then a whisper.

"And you not at all." You say and you don't bite your tongue like you would've before.

He smiles and you'd remember that smile anywhere. He's proud.

Not of what you've said but of you in general.

He steps forward and you take a step back hesitatently. You want to stand your ground to show no fear but your mind acts on instinct.

He takes notice of your fear and a frown appears on his face not liking your fear one bit.

"I won't hurt my dear...Im not that man...not anymore. " He says and his voice is surprising gentle.

You've never heard him talk like that before. Not even when you were a baby.

"Only a fool steps in a trap twice." You say quoting one of his lessons.

He raises his eye brows as a response and nods agreeing to your words and wisdom.

He sighs and you can see it. His chest is heavy.

He's nervous.

He's cations with his words careful not to over step.

"And you are no fool ,my girl....." He says his voice defeated.

"But I am your father....or I was. And I'd like to be agian...if you'd allow me?" His words are small and humble.

Which is so unlike him.

So unlike a king.

It was almost pathetic...he was asking to be your father.

If it was anyone else you'd probably roll your eyes for the dramatic words....

But nothing about this moment was dramatic. It was.....kind.

Something that you had never seen your father be.

Watching the man infront of you saw him. Not just a king or his cruelty...but your father.

You snap back into reality. You won't fall into a trap twice... you are no fool. You remind yourself. 'Don't attach yourself to false hope.' 'Always watch for traps.' Is what you've always been taught.

But seeing it father so honest...so desperate was doing something to you...it was breaking you.

His hazel dark eyes search yours looking for any sign of forgiveness. But you can't trust so easily. Not after everything. Your smarter then that.

"After everything's you've done...I can't just forgive you.." You say and you see how much your words impact you father but his kindness doesn't fade at the sight of denial. In fact it increases.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness...just a second chance.." He says his voice is soft and everything's in you is begging you to forgive him. But you can't.

Your hurt. He's hurt you.

"You killed my grandmother.. you took her life. That is not something I can forget." There it is something you've been dying to say to him. The final bridge that he must cross before you let him in.

You want him to explain. And he's been waiting for you to bring that up.

"That wasn't me. That was my men." He says defensively but his kindness is still there.

"Exactly your men. You might as well have killed her." You say and your venom is fierce and he feels it.

He feels your strength. He feels your emotions how you channel it into power. And he fucking loves it

If it wasn't such a bad moment he'd probably smile.

"They didn't do that by my command.....their orders were to scare you. Not to hurt you or your grandmother. "He says and you can hear his words are genuine.

"To scare me?" You say confused. They were just supposed to scare you...not bring you back?

"You still don't understand.....I let you go. " He says and he takes a small step forward and this time you don't step back.

You scoff at his words. He let you go? Impossible. He would've never let you go....atleast Not without a reason.

It's you who steps forward this time.

"Why?."

You ask commanding an answer.

"I had to let you go..." He says and his words are hollow and lack pride like his words usually have.

You look at him and tilt your head motioning for him to continue.

"Whether you believe what I say or not...I knew I was cruel. I knew I was hurting you." He says and his voice sincere. His tone so soft that you almost believe that this is a dream...

"And I didn't want to....but it was more about your strength. About what you were supposed to be.... there were things I couldn't teach you. I was to young. I lacked so much."

His voice is calm and he's trying to go around the truth but you already put the pieces together. You truly understand now.

"You lacked skills..but my grandfather didn't. So you let them take me. You let him train me. Teach me things that you never knew." You say and watch as he nods.

He sees that you've caught on. You've read him before he began speaking. Some only your grandfather would've been able to teach you.

"Your grandfather...he would've never taught me the things he's taught you." He says calmly.

He steps away from you and sits on a small chair and motions for you to sit across from him.

You hesitate sit and he pours you tea. Just like he used to do after your training had went well.

"So you expect me to teach you?" You ask as you take a sip of your tea.

"Teach me? No. I've learned plenty from other masters." He states and you look at him baffled.

"Teach Kion then?" You asks.

"No. I want to teach you all that I know." He says and he watches for your reaction.

"With what you already know and what I can teach you...you will be great." He says.

"All I am to you is some trophy..." You say feeling angry at his words how dare he want you to be nothing but a tool in game. In his war.

"Trophy?" He says confused and offended. You had taken his words the completely wrong way.

"My girl... you are all that I am. You are my daughter, my protégé, my heir."

What the hell did he just say? Heir?

You were no heir.

No bastard could be heir to the throne. You look at him confused and stunned.

"Kion is heir. Not me." You say as you take another sip of your tea.

"Says who? I have the final say." He say firmly.

"I will not take the throne from my brother." You say. You know how much blood can be shed from a siblings fighting of the throne.

"It's your birth right not his. He's known from the day he was born that you would be my heir. Not him." Your father states in a matter-of-factly tone.

"You can not take something that is already yours..." He continues.

Your silence is like a silence agreement to him as he continues speaking again.

"I assume Kion has told you what sub-zero did." He says and you can tell the memory still haunts him.

You nod.

"Do you know how he killed her?" He asks and his softness is long gone now.

You shake your head wanting him to continue.

"We were asleep. She was sleeping right next to me....and he slit her throat....I didn't even hear his steps. I woke up...and she was dead. He says and you can tell it hurts for him to admit that he was weak.

Now that was deep shit. You think to yourself.

All this time you had thought that sub-zero had killed her to start a war and take the throne ,but hearing how he killed...something much deeper had happened.

"Why not kill you? " You say and his eyes snap to yours.

"That's the question I ask every night....in chess when you take the king what happens?" He ask and you answer quickly.

"You win."

"Exactly....killing me... the throne would've been his. He wants something more... but I don't know what." His words are almost true...but he's hiding something. But you don't know what.....

You don't press any farther knowing he won't tell.. atleast not yet...

So you continue drinking your tea.

His words are kind and humble once agian as he begins speaking. And you can see the desperation in his eyes as he reaches for your hand.

"A war is coming ,and I need you...So I'll ask you agian. Will you allow me to be your father?"

As soon as the batfamilys feet touch the ground they take in the snowy atmosphere.

"Where the hell are we?" Your mother says confused. They weren't anywhere near the palace. They weren't anywhere near you.

"The portal was supposed to take us to her." Bruce says as he looks at the small device that controls the portal.

"She's about 10 thousand kilometers away." Tim says and dick groans.

"It'll take us forever to get there...." dick says annoyed.

Jason looks around the snowy grounds as if searching for you behind every tree. You mother walks up to him noticing his distressed state.

"You okay jay? Is medicine that we gave you still working? " She says her voice soft.

"Yeah.... I'm fine." He says dismissively. It was clear that jason was angry at pretty much everyone for you leaving.

He blames them. Because it is their fault.

"I have friends that can help that aren't to far from here..." Your grandfather says as he takes in the familiar surroundings.

"How long will it take us to her?" Your mother questions.

"A week at minimum. We better hurry." Your grandfather says as he begins walking knowing exactly where he's headed.

Damian stays silent for the most part. He knows he should've been a better brother...he regrets everything...every incounter every word...

He finally feels the weight of his actions getting back to him...but it's to late isn't it?

Thanks for reading!!

Comments and likes are highly appreciated! 💗

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[after-witch]

Points of No Return [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Title: Points of No Return [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Synopsis: You run into someone from your old life and it shakes you into making a decision you might regret. Companion piece to Bait, Fever Pitch and Bus Stop.

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, Stockholm syndrome; mentions of physical and mental abuse, mentions of pregnancy

The town is hustling and bustling. It looks a little different every time you visit. New banners, new shops, an endless sea of revolving faces that you barely remember once you’re back home.

Here, in the outdoor market, there is a sense of thrumming aliveness that keeps your thoughts dancing from one step to the next. Should you go to this stall, or that one? Stop for a bite to eat? Check out new wares? A dress for yourself, bracelets for the girls, a book for him–or not? There’s too much. Too many people, too many choices. It makes it hard to concentrate. 

But then a squeeze to one your hands--Nanako and Mimiko on either side of you, the three of you making quite the trio on a trip--brings you back the ground.

“We’ll go look for our gifts,” the girls say, smiling. “You should look for something new to wear to the party.”

You smile and wave them off and turn towards the nearest stalls with fabrics and kimonos hanging up for sale. The outfit should be elegant, but understated. That’s what the girls told you, which means that’s probably what Geto told them.

An outfit appropriate for his birthday party.  

You’ll find something here, that’s certain. With this many stalls, and the amount of money allotted for the trip. 

The city was shocking, the first time you were allowed to visit again. You didn’t stay long–a panic attack took care of that. It was too much in a horribly overwhelming way, and you’d buried yourself against his chest and asked to leave. 

Of course, Geto had been with you then. It took a year for the girls to convince him to let you come only with them–a girls’ trip. And here, now, years down the line, you didn’t even need to beg and plead. It was a matter of fact: the girls were taking you shopping, and you’d go home to Geto, and that was that.

Sure, it’s still overwhelming; but not in a way that leaves you breathless. It does make you long to go home, to sweep into Geto’s private quarters, to relax in that space which has finally become warm and inviting to you. A sanctuary, away from his followers, away from any sense of the greater world out there.

It would be nice, to go home later today. To be with him. To have him hold you and kiss you, to simply sit quietly at his feet while he reads. He was kinder, now. In his own way. Long gone are the days of punishments, of scoldings, of that awful bitterness that kept you from truly feeling alive. 

And–just when did that happen? That sense of normalcy–happiness, even?--with him. With your life.

Your fingers fumble with the fabric you’re holding and there’s a few awful moments where the world wants to spin, but simply stands stationary instead and makes you feel its terrible crushing weight. You want to take it back, those thoughts; want to simply go about your day like everything was normal, and fine, and–

Someone calls your name. Someone close.

It’s not the girls. It’s a man. A man’s voice, but who, and why, and how long has it been since anyone has said your name that hasn’t been Geto or the twins or one of his followers? 

Your name, again. Spoken softer, but breathier. Like he’s shocked. Surprised. But pleased? 

You turn slowly, your brain whirring into action, putting forgotten puzzle pieces back together as it pulls from deep within the foggy recesses of your memories.

The voice. The mole on his cheek, the curve of his jaw. The color of his eyes. It’s yanked from deep within your mind, sticky taffy that barely wants to come up–but it does and he does and you know this man.

“Kenji?”

It tastes sour, this man’s name on your lips–a name that isn’t, for the first time in years, his.

The muted shock within you is like wet sand, being scooped and patted firm by a small hand. 

He says your name again, and takes your hand in his own–your heart begins to beat more rapidly, knowing that this is wrong, that Geto will know, somehow, that another man’s touch has been upon you.

He says more things. Things that barely register. That your family has missed you. Your friends have missed you. He’s missed you. 

It shouldn’t be surprising. He was–after all–your boyfriend. Was. Had been. Once upon a time, when the world was different. 

“What happened to you?” He asks, and you don’t answer. You can’t. Not fully.

“I…” How do you tell him, exactly? Where do you even start? And where would you end? By telling him that gosh, you were just thinking about how you’d like to get back home to the man who kidnapped you years ago. The man who’s held you hostage and hurt you, but the man who–who loves you, too? Who saved you, who is kind when he can be.

“Your parents are going to be so happy,” Kenji says, quietly, filling your silence. They hadn’t been on your mind in some time, and isn’t that awful of you? But it was too hard to think about them. It hurt too much. So you put them away, like old things in a drawer, to be avoided like a painful memory. 

But… they had been hurt, of course, by your disappearance. They missed you. Did others miss you? And had you been missing them, all along? Only for that pain to be glossed over to protect yourself. A selfish sort of trickery. 

Pangs in your heart begin to puncture that heavy shock. Your mother. Your father. Your best friend. Your dog. Neighbors, the friendly woman at the grocery store who always stuck a pack of gum in your bag before you left. And–Kenji. Kenji, too. 

Tears prick at your eyes and you know they’re threatening to spill. Just when had you forgotten all of them? Set them all in that dusty drawer, to avoid the pain, to indulge in the comfort of increasingly familiar days inside Geto’s compound. 

“Listen,” Kenji says, soft, slow. As if you were wrapped in a silver emergency blanket and perched on the end of an ambulance after fighting off a monster. And–have you been? 

Confusion blurs your thoughts, your memories. You haven’t been… unhappy in a long time. Haven’t thought about those unpleasant days, when you fought. When you ran. Instead, you’ve thought about how comfortable you are; how nice it feels when Geto puts aside his duties now and then, and spends more time with you.

When did you stop trying to get away?

Kenji seems to sense your thoughts, somehow; sense your inner turmoil which must surely be written on your face as clear as day. 

“I’ll help you,” he continues, as his words seem to grow louder and louder in your ear. Like a siren–like a wake up call. “Meet me at the park around the corner. Tonight. Whatever’s going on… whatever’s happened, I can help you.” 

I can help you. And you need it, don’t you? Help?

Your mouth opens stupidly, like a fish, but before you can say anything, two familiar presences are by your side. 

Kenji drops your hands, and you find yourself staring down at them. 

“Who is this?” Mimiko asks, a shopping bag tucked over her arm. She takes one of your hands in hers, gives it a firm squeeze.

“Do you know them?” Nanako’s hand is in yours just as swiftly as her sister’s, and this time, you recollect yourself–you give her hand a squeeze first.

“I don’t know,” you lie, the first time you’ve lied to the girls in what seems like forever. “He was just apologizing for running into me.”

The girls look at each other, leaning forward, with you in between. You feel the weight of their stares glancing by you, like they might just brush your cheek. 

But–

“Let’s go home,” is all they say together, and begin to lead you away. You don’t dare answer Kenji, but as they turn you away, you dare it–

You give the smallest of nods.

You’ll meet him.

–

“Did you behave?” Geto murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. Every muscle in your body seems to lock in at once, the thought pattering against your skull–He knows he knows he knows he knows–before he pulls away and laughs a little. A melodic sound that pulls you down from your tense height, though it feels like your feet skid the entire way.

“Only a tease,” he says, almost airily, before he looks at the girls. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Nanako and Mimiko exchange a look, and there, an awful thought–They’ll tell him–before they dutifully pull the sides of their shopping bags closer in near unison to hide their gifts. 

“You’ll find out at the party,” they say in unison, and you can’t help the cold wash of relief that runs through your stomach. They must have believed you, and they know mentioning the man to Geto will only spoil the party they’ve been planning for weeks. 

It will definitely spoil it, you think, once he finds out you’ve run away.

–

You’re not very poetic, as a general rule of thumb. Oh, sometimes you try. You take pen to paper and scribble out lines about your feelings, about the way the trees look in the garden you’re allowed to roam, the way Geto’s empty side of the bed feels in the morning. 

It never amounts to anything satisfying, you can’t quite seem to make the words stick. But here, now, in this moment, maybe you could write something worth remembering.

The moonlight brushes against Geto’s hair as daintily as your fingers, which skim the strands on the pillow, not daring to get anywhere close to his scalp, to the softness of his cheek. He might wake up. He might wake up and realize that he’s let you go in the night, his arms tired and slack, and you’ve slipped out of bed–

But you’re not gone yet, are you? No. Now, you’re leaning next to the bed, watching the way the moonlight through the window makes half his face glow in the darkness. He looks like a sculpture, with only a hint of his chest rising to tell you that he’s a living being, and not some piece of marble in the garden.

And oh, how lovely he looks. How serene. 

Maybe you should stay. Maybe this is an awful idea. Maybe it will simply lead to trouble and upset and you’ll topsy-turvy everything in your world again, and it won’t be worth it.

But then you remember Kenji’s hands squeezing yours and those thoughts, whirling and long repressed, of the world outside. The world you left behind. A world waiting to welcome you again, you’re sure, if you just make that first move to leave.

So you do leave–swiftly and with dread and hope fighting for space in your stomach. 

–

Meeting Kenji in the park is surreal. Being truly alone in some outside place, away from attendants, away from the girls, away from Geto. It is only you and Kenji and the moon above, watching silently. 

You don’t tell him about this out of body feeling; there is an embarrassment that overtakes you all too suddenly at the thought of letting him know everything.

Instead, you tell him about the kidnapping. The training. The ups and downs with Geto, the highs and lows of what has become of your life. The escape attempts, the fights, the slow descent into accepting that you won’t be able to leave.

You don’t tell him what he doesn’t need to know. How it feels when Geto strokes your back on nights you feel lonely, how it makes your stomach flutter when he kisses you with a quiet warmness instead of hunger; how you no longer dread his presence, but normalize it, welcome it–invite it, even.

“We’ll go to the police,” he says, and you feel bad for the barking laugh that pushes its way out of your throat. He didn’t mean to say something stupid. Pointless. You know that.

“He would find me,” you say, quietly. “Find us. He’d kill anyone involved. He’d kill you.” Would he kill me? You wonder, and don’t ask aloud. This should make Kenji give up. Run away, and protect himself. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he grips your hand again, squeezing it like he’s been the one to hold you all these years. He waits until you turn to look at him, and you can see the glossy tears in his eyes, the way he looks so frazzled–but determined. Hopeful. Kind. 

“Please let me help you.”

These words hurt your chest. 

“Is there a day you can slip away like this again?”

You don’t answer right away. You chew on the words, heart pounding. 

How sick it feels that some part of you wants to say no. Wants to be Cinderella hiking up her ballgown and calling out that she has to get back to her kidnapper’s compound by midnight or she’ll turn into a pumpkin.

But–

It’s not just Kenji that you left behind, is it? It’s your parents, your friends, your family, your neighbors. The world itself. 

And something small inside you, louder and louder, knows you want to get back to that world. 

“The party,” you murmur, almost without thinking. “Tomorrow night. Can you meet me at the gate of the compound?” 

Kenji’s smile breaks your heart and you feel tears slipping down your cheeks. He reaches up to brush them away and you almost flinch from the intimacy.

“Tomorrow night,” he repeats.

Tomorrow night indeed.

The giddiness of it all carries you all the way back to the compound, sneaking through the shadows, stumbling through the gaps in security that the girls taught you one evening so they could take you to see a movie in town. 

It even carries you through the hallways back to Geto’s bedroom, where he should still be sleeping–

Where he is, instead, sitting in his chair and staring right at you as you come through the doorway. He stands, when you enter, and you don’t move as he bridges the gap between you. 

"Where did you go off to?"

A lie passes your lips as easily as air. "I was just helping with the decorations for the party. S-Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.” 

He pauses, pulls you closer and leans in, kisses your neck. “Ah,” he hums, “And here I was worried you were trying to escape again.” He sighs into your skin, warm and tickling. “You’ve been so good. But I still wonder, now and then…”

It feels impossible for your muscles to lock in so tight, but they do, even as he pulls you back into the bedroom towards your shared bed. 

“No,” he says, almost a murmur. “You’ve been so good to me these past years, haven’t you?” He gestures towards the bed and you climb onto it, no need for instructions, and begin to disrobe. Your chest is tight–everything from your head to toe feels tight–and you’re waiting for something to snap. Him–or you? 

But he doesn’t. And you don’t. Instead, he lets his robe drop to his shoulders, then lower. 

“I think I’d like an early present,” he says, low. And the sound of his voice, the sight of him disrobing, brings a familiar heated flush–a familiar pride. A familiar feeling of usefulness that he has cultivated in you through careful training.

You don’t protest as he climbs onto the bed, as he hovers over you and begins to take what is his–but as your head hits the pillow, you wonder how much emptier the bed will be tomorrow night. –

It’s like you're not in your own body. Can Geto tell? Can the girls? You take another pretend sip of champagne so they think you’re just drunk, high on the alcohol and not the thought of freedom. What an elusive thing, freedom. Something you’d given up on grasping yet here it is, dangling in front of you, held by Kenji’s warm hands.

Geto is too busy for most of the night to stay near you. There are too many people, too many speeches, too many moving parts. It’s glorious, really, for the opportunity it gives you–

Because when he’s crowds-deep into the room, and the girls have run off to start gathering the gifts, you are able to slip away. It feels sickeningly easy. No one pays much attention to you anymore, not like they might have a few years ago, keeping you on a tight and perhaps literal leash.

It wasn’t practical to pack anything, so you try not to regret leaving a few treasured items behind as you shift through the shadows, keeping yourself in the darkness. Though it hardly matters. Most everyone is at the party, desperate for a glimpse of Geto; desperate to please him. Like you are, sometimes. Or were, you think. You’re going to leave all that behind. Aren’t you?

Kenji is standing at the gate like he isn’t seriously risking his life to help you. Like this is a game. He even smiles when you make it, as he pushes open the unlocked door and grips your hand to pull you through.

It makes your heart feel a bit strained–how stupid he is, how little he knows about Geto. How much more you know about him, how cruel he can be–How he looks when he sleeps contentedly by your side, how his smile gets a little higher when you do something he finds cute, how his fingers feel against your cheek.

Your feet skid against the ground. Oh, oh–

Kenji looks back when your gravity pulls against him. 

He says your name, and your chest tightens.  

“What’s wrong? Did you forget something?” A touch of annoyance in his voice. No wonder, he is afraid to get caught, after all. 

“No,” you say, voice cracking, throat dry. But haven’t you left something behind? No, not something. Someone. (Not just him–not just him, but the girls, too.) “It’s just–I just–I don’t know if I…” 

If I can leave him. 

You shouldn’t feel this way. You shouldn’t. But you do, and it keeps you rooted, keeps your shoes digging into the ground even as Kenji gives you a tug.

“Come on,” he says, more of a hiss. “We don’t have much time.” He gives another tug, and this time you actually pull against his grip. 

“I can’t!” 

The shock registers on his face as quickly as it registers in your heart, plucking hard like a taut string. 

Kenji’s surprise turns to something else, an emotion you haven’t seen for some time. Irritation–no. Stronger. Harder. Something meaner mixed with disbelief.

“What the hell–” He says your name in a way that makes it sound like an awful thing. “Don’t tell me–” His lip curls, his eyebrows furrow. “Don’t tell me you love that bastard. Think of what he’s done to you!”

Your tongue snakes out to lick your dry lips and you know what might be said here. What Kenji wants to hear. That you’re just confused, you’re scared, you don’t know what to do. 

But you do know what to do. And what you can’t say. What you don’t want to say to him. 

It doesn’t need to be said, anyway. It’s clear as day on your face, on the way your shoes are planted in the ground. Kenji’s expression turns awful and you can tell he understands that truth of yours; a truth that feels so much uglier when you’re outside the compound. 

You do love Geto. You do, and maybe it’s wrong and fucked up and–

Geto is here–somewhere. You can feel him, although there’s no sign of him anywhere, no sound of approaching footsteps. But it’s something innate in you now, this ability to sense his presence. 

“You have to leave,” you say, quickly, words hopping out of your mouth like a skipping stone. “Before it’s too late. He–he’ll kill you.” And despite the way Kenji looked at you, you don’t want him dead. You just want him gone and out of your life, back to his old world, even if he will no longer be ignorant–happily?--of your whereabouts.

For a moment he keeps a grip on your hand, and you wonder if he’ll plead with you to come with him. Convince you that your life here is terrible and you need to leave. He’ll try to convince you for so long that Geto will come and kill him, and you’ll sob over his dead body.

None of that happens. Instead, he lets go, abruptly, like your hand is electric. 

He says your name and when you look up at him, he merely shakes his head. 

“I don’t know who you are anymore. You’ve… changed.” Changed. Said awfully, like the word was spoiled milk in his mouth. 

“What do you mean?” And you ask this, despite perhaps not wanting the answer. 

It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t give one.

Instead, he turns, without so much as a goodbye, and leaves you standing alone at the gate in the darkness. 

Alone–and clutching the string of your heart that kept you from leaving in the first place.

–

Everything is wrong. The compound should be lit up, all sound and music, the din of people inside the party. But instead, it’s like the world has been snuffed out–there is only darkness. Not even the familiar glow of candles in hallways or electric lights snug inside the maze of rooms.

There’s only one light and you follow it, moth to flame, all the while a knot in your stomach ties itself tighter and tighter. The world is quiet and dark and you’re going to the only thing you can see–the temple where Geto and his followers meet. 

A temple of light, now.

You don’t see anyone inside as you cross the threshold, but you’re not stupid enough to think that you’re alone.

And you aren’t–you aren’t, and when you sense Geto behind you, it is with the same familiarity as the feeling of someone presenting your winter coat to be put on at the long end of a weary evening.

Only instead of being enveloped in warmth, Geto stands behind you–and his hand shoots out to grip your neck.

It’s nostalgic, in its own way. The press of his fingers against your neck, the slight squeeze. A warning, but this time, you think it will be more than that. A blown last chance, perhaps. He’ll kill you. Or throw you out, and that might just be worse. 

“It was quite stupid of you,” he says, slowly, as if you need time to process his words, “to think that I wouldn’t find out what you were planning.”

How awfully nostalgic, too, when he pushes you against the hard stone of one of the statues in the temple. It connects with your side in a flash of pain, and Geto turns you around with ease. If he notices the way your body has begun to tremble, he doesn’t show it. 

“Humor me,” he murmurs, curling his hand around the front of your neck. “Why didn’t you leave with him?” 

His expression is cold, you think. You’ve gotten so much better at reading him, and yet, you haven’t done anything particularly displeasing in so long that it feels like wading into unfamiliar territory. 

“Not that you would have gotten far,” he adds, a slight sneer in his tone. “Not with that fool.”

A sneer in his tone, yes, but also–is it jealousy? How could Geto be jealous of someone like Kenji? Geto, who is smarter, and stronger; Geto, who always seems to know what you need, even when you don’t. Geto–the man you can’t imagine being without, despite it all.

The thoughts come like dominos, clicking together with precision.

“I didn’t leave because… because…”

Despite his grip on your neck, despite your trembling, despite the fear that he might kill you–

“I love you.”

You reach out and caress his cheek with one hand, and reach forward, his fingers pressing into the soft tissue of your neck, to kiss him softly on the lips. 

The surprise that registers on his face does not meld into disgust like Kenji; instead, it seems to freeze, and you’re keenly aware of the fact that you know he prefers to initiate any intimate contact himself. You forgot, in your haze, in the blurry anxiety of this evening. 

“I’m–” 

Sorry, you were going to say, but you don’t say; because his lips are suddenly on yours, hungry and warm and unrelenting. The hand on your throat grips the back of your hair and keeps you in place as he presses himself closer against you.

And what trembling you had from before is replaced with anew, but from warmth this time, from the buzzing that begins low in your bellybutton and spreads as Geto’s kisses travel from your mouth to your neck; as his fingers begin to work at your clothes.

“I want to hear you say that again–” He bites your neck, lapping at the mark. “And again–” His fingers undo the last belt holding your outfit together, and the fabric drops to the ground. “And again.”

You whimper as he guides you further into the temple, onto the space where he might normally greet his followers. The tatami presses against your bare skin as he begins to undo his own clothes, not bothering to order you to do it for him in his need.

“Until you’re screaming it,” he murmurs, his hair tickling your face as he looms over you. 

And you know his words are nothing short of a promise. 

–

You are sometimes a stupid thing, he thinks. Yet you are undoubtedly still his–stupid, yes, on occasion. But his. 

You proved that to him, on the night you chose not to run away. You wouldn’t have been able to, of course. That moronic monkey that called himself your “boyfriend” had neither the intelligence nor stamina to get you farther than the gate. He didn’t even sense the guards watching him the entire time.

He didn’t sense Geto, either, early the next morning, when he came to kill the fool who thought he’d steal something from a far superior being. 

If he hadn’t been still basking in the bliss of the night before, it might have been more excruciating. Oh, it hurt. Kenji’s eyes had gone wide and he’d choked on blood and tried desperately to get some final words out. But it might have been more entertaining to drag it out for hours–days–perhaps longer.

Ah, the things you make him do, without even realizing it. Unintentional mercy was just another thing to add to the list of things you’ve placed on his shoulders. 

He’d come here to tell you just that; to tell you how Kenji died, and why he died, and how he’s glad you’ll never have to worry about him bothering you again.

Only you’d surprised him. Something you don’t often do, even when you try.

Surprised him with a shy smile and your hands behind your back, holding something apparently quite precious.

It was–it is. 

A positive pregnancy test. No doubt procured by one of the girls. 

The full weight of it doesn’t hit him yet, won’t hit him, he thinks, until much later on. A child–with you. There is much to consider. Legacies and heirs and all that.

But for now, he focuses on you. You, not leaping for joy but smiling at him, an almost nervous sort of expectation on your face. He can see the thoughts dancing inside your head–Is this okay? Is he angry? Will he be happy? And he can never quite describe how it feels, this knowledge that he has so much power over you.

That he can make you smile shyly and look down with a nervous little glance and ask if he’s happy.

It’s endearing, truly. You’re endearing. 

And ah, that unintentional mercy strikes again. It is enough to make him slip Kenji’s bloodied watch into a fold of his robe.

For now–he’ll let you plan on how you’ll share the news with the twins. 

You can learn about the fool’s death another time.