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wonymao · 2 months ago

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──★ ˙ ̟. supernova love 𖹭 !!

a supernova glowin' the dark, forever i wished upon a star. then you came over, occupied my heart, occupied my heart <3

a/n; this is my first time writing a fic! HEAVILY inspired by dream contact: our wish and also supernova love by ive&david guetta because i've been obsessing over that song since it came out (ive never misses)

no cw! fluff cheesy n cringy sakuya, not proofread!! sakuya fic about astronomy kinda??

saku x fem!reader

wc: around 2.3k

a supernova glowin' the dark

forever i wished upon a star ::

astronomy. something about astronomy has always been calling your name. you've always been interested in it, i mean who isnt curious about outerspace? you'd have to be insane not to wonder whats out there, right? or maybe youre just too much of a nerd like your friends say..

everynight you would stargaze on the top of your roof, using it as a stress reliever while listening to your favourite songs and drawing sketches of different planets, stars, galaxies, anything that comes to your mind that day.

2:47am

coming down from your roof, stepping into your room from the window. forgetting to close the window behind you. laying on your bed, lights off, window open with the wind blowing your curtains. with the window open, its hard to fall asleep. the cold air seeping into your room, but being too lazy to get up and close it. slowly closing your eyes adjusting to the cold room, a neon green colour invades your room. instantly opening your eyes and seeing the prettiest green ever suddenly wakes you up.

running to your window, you spot a bright neon green star in the sky. looking through your telescope immediatly, getting a closer look. your heart beats faster, never in your life have you ever seen a pretty star like this one. running back to your bedside table to grab your phone to snap a picture of it, yet once you come back to your window sill, its gone..? the star just.. disappeared

how can you go to sleep after that? while the star is still fresh in your mind, you start to sketch what the star looked like. walking back to your bed sketch book and coloured pencils in your hand, getting comfortable in your sheets. eventually passing out with an unfinished drawing of that star you saw that night.

its been a week since that event happened and you cant stop thinking of it. ever since that day youve been wishing everynight looking up at the stars. 'please show me that star once more' you want to know if what you saw was real, if you were just so tired you started imagining things.

because that morning you woke up, you immediatly ran to turn on your computer searching for neon green star spottings, yet nothing showed up. only fake stock images.

you sit on the bench that you always sit on daily while waiting for the train that takes you back home after your cram school. you were let out early. 15 minutes till the train comes, its cold too. to pass time you pull out your sketchbook. flipping through the sketches of all the green stars youve drawn, you begin to skecth it again. you want to sketch a drawing similar to what you saw.

as your minding your own buisness, you feel a pair of eyes on you over your shoulder. turning around you see this guy, munching on bread staring at your drawing with wide eyes. he looks about your age, but why does he look like he jjst saw a ghost??

"that green star.. you saw that too??" he says with an unexpected deep voice "no way. did you see this as well?!" you stand up excitedly looking at him right in the eyes

"yeah, ive been searching online for any clues on what i saw.. i thought i was the only one" the boy replies sloghtly smiling

you reach out your hand to him "im y/n! im so happy to meet someone who saw it too!"

"im fujinaga sakuya" the boy takes your hand, and sits down on the bench as you follow.

"i tried to take a picture of the star but jist as soon as i picked up my phone it was gone" sakuya says with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"me too! thats why im drawing it because i domt ever want to forget that moment. ever since i saw that ive been wishing too see ot again"

"i hope that wish comes true for the both of us," sakuya says looking at your sketchbook. silence falls with the both of you sitting beside eachother on the bench on the cold. you start flipping through thr pages silently showing him all the skecthes you drew throughout the week. looking at his face for a reacyion he just lets out a little laugh.

the train comes and you both get on. its so warm on the train that you start to feel itchy from how cold it was outside. sakuya sits down and invites you to sit beside him.

the two of you talk about the star you saw that night, but eventually the conversation turns into getting to know eachother. his name is fujinaga sakuya, hes 16. he loves soccer, basketball, and also is interested in astronomy. time moves by so quick you dont even realize you miss you stop. ringing the bell to be let off at the next stop, you get up but he grabs your hand. looking down at the boy whos still seated, you see he's holding out his phone.

"y/n.. uhh.. can i have your phone number?" he shyly asks. you smile to him grabbing his phone and putting your number into it. giving his phine back you wave bye at him while stepping off the train. hes waving back and smiling.

when he mentioned he was interested in astronomy, your heart started beating faster. youve never met someone who liked the same stuff as you, not only that. but hes also really attractive and kind.

you step into your home, taking of you coat and boots, your mom welcoming you back and offering you dinner. after eating you get ready for bed and fall asleep.

----

tge next day you had just got gotten home from school, getting ready for bed you get a notification from your phone. thibking its one of your friends asking help for the homework you sigh, turning on your phone only to see a text from.. fujinaga?!

----

sakuya got to his shared dorm around 8:30pm, taking off his backpack and slipping off his shoes running into the living room like the happiest child ever. "guys you will never guess what happened to me today" sakuya says while 5 boys turn their attention from the tv to him

"i talked to this girl-" sakuya is cut off from his roomates cheering for him. really? he didnt even get to finish his sentence but theyre cheering for him like he just accomplished the hardest thing ever

"our saku-chan finally getting a girlfriend?" riku jokes nudging the youngers arm

sakuya blushes at the thought of the girl being his. "yeab so what? i talked to a girl and you guys didnt. i know youre all jealous."

the room goes dead silent. the first to break the silence is sion laughing follwed by the others. sakuya jist ignores their teasing and goes to his room to get ready for bed.

the next dayduring rheir shared dinner sakuya asks for advixe on how to strike a conversation with the girl. "just ask her to go to that bakery you always go to or sometbinf" yushi suggests

"hyung youre so smart!" sakuya says pulling out his phone and starts texting away. naturally the 5 boys gathering around him watching the conversation between him and the girl

"YOOO SHE SENT A HAND HEART SAKU SHE LIKES YOU" Riku says slapping sakus shoulder "orrr she could just be nice, but i doubt that" ryo adds on

"our little sakuya has a date tomorrow" daeyoung says hugging the younger boy. sakuya smiling to himself as his face flushes thinking of getting to see her again.

sakuya hurriedly goes to his room to try and get some good sleep so he can be refreshed and full of energy for tomorrow.

---

then you came over, occupied my heart,

occupied my heart <3 ::

its been 2 months since youve met sakuya and youve been hanging out with him very often. youd be lying to yourself if you said you didnt like him. everytime he looks at you with those eyes you feel you heart beat faster, cheeks flushing red. whenver he asked why you were red you would jist say its from the cold. but you didnt know that he knew it was because of him, i mean it was already spring. shouldnt you be saying its too hot? sakuya was just waiting for the perfect time to tell you what he truly felt about you.

even thiugh he knew you liked him because youre not so good at hiding your feelings, deep down, he thought maybe you were just being nice like what ryo said when he first asked for advice.

you both saw that green star on febuary 7th. he wantes to confess to you april 7th. that day also happened to be your birthday.

"soo whens your birthday?" sakuya asks while tilting his head at you. you stop eating your food to reply "its april 7th" sakuyas mouth is wide open "REALLY??" sakuya says shocked "yeah why?" you slightly laugh at his cuteness

"oh.. nothing, its just next week" he awkwardly laughs realizing his actions were too weird "are you doing anything that day?" he asks. "yeah im going bowling with my friends!" you reply smiling like an idiot

sakuya reaches his hands across the table and holds yours. "what about after that?" you feel your face heat up

"i wanna see you on your birthday" sakuya boldly says

"w-we'll most likely be done after 7ish.." you say trying not to move, you want to hide away from this situation. as much as you like it, its embarassing

"okay cant wait to celebrate your birthday at 7:30pm jist the two of us" sakuya says while letting go of your hands to finish his bread.

the rest of the dinner with him goes well, you trying to forget what hapoened to calm your heart down.

-----

april 7th.

you wake up in a good mood, i mean its your birthday and you have fun plans for today. you get ready, trying extra hard to look good today. not only for the amount of pictures youre gonna take today, but also for.. sakuya.

as the time gets closer to 7:30 your heart beats faster. god you really cant think of sakuya without blushing and almost looking like a fool in love.

he told you that he wanted to celebrate your birthdah togetger in your house, and you agreed. its currently 7:15. waiting for him, you touch up your makeup and hair, also cleaning uo your room a little.

*ding dong* you hear the doorbell from the front door. you told your mom not to asnwer the door if someone knocked because you told her your friend was coming over. your mom makes raises an eyebrow at you because you normally never say that to her, so she assumes ots a boy. which she was righr when she hears you greet a deep voice boy. respecting your privacy she just stays in the living room.

"hi y/n" sakuya says stepping into your house holding a bag of sweefs from wishs bakery and a present

"hi saku! omg you didnt have tk get me a present" you shyly say

"its your birthday of course i had to" he says taking off his shoes

"thank you.. come on lets go to my room?" sakuya nods at your request. his heart beating knowing hes about to confess his feelings.

----

"so this is my room!" sakuya looks around, he knew he liked the right girl but seeing your room made his feelings grow even more. he can tell your serious about astronomy.

you both settle into your room, ypu sit on you bed patting the spot beside you which he quickly takes. you both share the sweets he bought, laughing, making jokes and talking like yoh always do.

"wanna see your present?" sakuya gets uo and walks towards yohr desk to pick his present up.

you nod as he gives you the box. you start to open it feeling his eyes on you. a smile instanly lighting up your face as you pull out this pretty milky way snow globe, also a cute teddy bear hokding a heart. you hug sakuya thanking him for the gift.

"open the heart insidd the teddy bear" he says pulljng awat from the hug. listening to what he said, you open the heart. the heart read out

'I think I fell for you, so it’s only fair that you pick me up.'

"saku.. what?" you say looking up at him, face red.

"y/n, ever since that first day i saw you drawing a picture of that green star, i couldnt get you off my mind. i thought about- no i still think about you everyday, how you make me laugh, youre so pretty, smart, kind and.. i ended up falling in love with you. i love you y/n. can i be your boyfriend..?" sakuya says struggling to maintain eye contact, face heating up. you break into tears hugging him.

"yes of course, i wanna be your girlfriend sakuya. i love you too" sakuya hides his face in the crook of your neck and smiles to himself.

"youre the best person that has ever walked into my life" he whispers still hugging you. you break the hug to look at his face. you cant believe it. he's yours? the boy youve liked and known for 2 months confessed to you on your birthday.

sakuya cups your face in his hands

"can i kiss you?" you swear you couldve died in that moment. you silently nod not wanting to speak jist incase if you stuttered too much, or jist having your voice crack

he slowly inches his face closer. your lips meeting, his hand still on your face but his other dropping to lay on your lower back. you wrao you arms around his neck. the kiss only lasfed a couple of seconds but after he pulled away from the kiss you hide your face in his chest. you love him so much.

"this is the best birthday ever, thank you saku."

its crazy to think that you found your boyfriend all because of a green star.

#nct #nct wish #nct wish x reader #fujinaga sakuya #nct wish fluff #nct wish fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #nct imagines #sakuya imagines #sakuya x reader #nct sakuya #sakuya #fujinaga sakuya x reader #nct fluff #sakuya fluff

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helloescapist · 1 year ago

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In This Life | Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 5849

Setting: Rengoku x fem!reader, angst, pining, reconcilliation, modern AU, requested [first part] sequal to In Another Life, requested by the wonderful @holyeaglefanlawyer.

Content Warnings: SFW, we do mention death and depression.

Summary: Living the day to day in the modern world, the distinct whisper of a forgotten past that beckons his soul. The distant hum of a song time had forgotten, memories of another life lit in the depths of his heart. The longing for the girl, he had left behind guiding him through this modern world.

[Art work is not mine, all credit goes to the artist! The song utilized in this work is also "Sakura, Sakura", a Japanese folk song, and not mine either!}

You awoke to darkness, the waves of black claimed in the cloak of depths. Suffocating, and empty, a void that claimed you. Cultivated your soul. Lingered on the hairs on the back of your neck. The small tip of your heart, slow and irregular. Echoed in your ears. Ached, a burden that had become far too great to bear. The faint whisper of cold that nipped at the peaks of your flesh, your eyes had not left the touch of your fingertips. Gazed down at them, indifferent to the frigid touch of your skin.

Robbed of warmth, fading to the absence of life. The hands that he had once held. Eye lids heavy with grief as you wobbled forward. Your strength weakened by the days and weeks of neglect. No longer willing to persevere. The touch of color that had gathered at your fingertips, revealing the severity of your situation. Yet, for all that it was, and all that it had been. The weight of your heart, the burden of your shoulders, the lack of oxygen that filled your lungs felt a relief. No longer pained in existence, nor aware of the press of the heavy white kimonos that claimed you feature. The roll of your hair over your shoulder, only falling in strands as you gazed down at your fingertips. Cold. Empty. Vaguely conscious of the tears that fell into the palm of your hand. A wandering figure, a ghost of the woman you had once been sentenced to lament your loss. Blinded by your absence upon the fringe of existence, heedless of the growing possibility you would no longer resemble the Sakuya-hime he had adored, traded in for the skin of Okiku. If you had the energy, you would ponder how many years would pass in this state of bard before rejecting reincarnation, and succumb to the feminine rage of the woman before her, a onryo. Yet, for all your suffering had been in the end, a shattered heart that deteriorated your body before you could greet your husband’s bed, death welcomed you like an old friend.

Clasped its warm hands against your shoulders, the small quiver of its hold against your kimono. Tumbled, free of gore, and rattled your withering bones. Large calloused hands well-honed over years of swordplay, warm as a fire that greeted your flesh, revealed the depths of chill of your frame. Their hold, far tighter than you had expected from the shadows, the trembled despite their strength. Resolve that slipped through existence, captivated your shoulders and the panic that reverberated in your ears. Demanding, imploring to why you had arrived so soon—the catch of his voice drawing your eyes from your finger tip. Grieved to see him once again. Of all the souls who could have greeted you—why did it have to be him? The warmth of his eyes alit the cinders of flame. As vibrant as his breathing, as captivating as a winter hearth. To coil into his warmth as though you were children once more. Deep forked eyebrows that drew forward, and teeth that gritted anxiously. Kyojuro. The tremble of your heart beneath his fingers. How your tears tumbled down your cheeks. Your heart threatening to betray your hurt long suppressed by rage. Begged you to linger in his warmth, to fall into his arms, and confess all that your heart carried for the man, the touch of his uniform. Duty. Death. Sacrifice. All of it meant so little hear under the cloak of limbo, as empty as his sturdy hands that gripped your shoulders. The nails that dug into your kimono, kissed your flesh. Your separation as meaningless as the words he spilled before you, nor the ache of pleas at the base of his throat. Choked on a sob as he beseeched you, implored and begged, pushed you to go back. Insisted you still had time to greet your husband, to return to a man you had no affections for. Insisted you go, to run to a voice you could not recognize that begged for his beloved. Betray your heart once more for duty. For sacrifice. For death.

“Please, live a long life.”

Days that had turned to weeks of suppressed anguish, mourning a love that you had never the opportunity to cultivate. Grazes that you could only dream to pursue. Warmth that would fade to duty, that dared to urge you into the arms of another. Demanded for you to reclaim life. To live. Without him. Hours of distress, misery that had claimed your heath, and agony that had sorrowed your heart. Wretchedness had long since robbed you of your life. Duty had led him away, had demanded you to carry on despite the suffering that had ensued within your bones. Sacrifice, sacrifice had led him to death just as it had you. All of your sorrow, of your woe overlooked, struggled against the clasp of his palms against your shoulders. An undignified shrill of a scream, an eruption of all the grief your heart had borne, the raise of your hand. Guided by scorned love, anger that had dipped your soul jaded your emotions, and whispered vengeance. The raise of your hand, trembled against its own weight. To strike him as he had your love, the unblinking of his eyes as they met your own. Accepting what blow you may inflict, long eyelashes that fell to yours. Sad. Distant. Knowing. Knowing. An assault you could not bear to inflict, left with little choice but to jerk your chin from his sight. Allow your hair to disguise the hurt you continued to carry, no longer willing to stay with in his graze. Feet that carried you forward, to pass him by as he had you. To no longer allow his touch to claim your senses, nor rob you of your dignity, of your worth.

Oblivious to the way, that he followed you into the dark.

Life felt like a blur. A listless edge of existence, passing moments as though smoke through fingers. Faint, and meaningless, and lacking warmth in his presence. A fade of memories, parents that welcomed to the world. Wobbly knees that gained in competence and practice. His mother’s lullaby, stark and distant despite how she tucked him to her breast. Laughter that lacked depth, days chasing peers on the playground. Unaware of the way his eyes lingered on each passing child, searching their gaze for familiarity. Always reaching out in the hopes that one day, a small hand would grasp his own. Friendships forged by his forced sunny position, the lucky few he could call true companions far and few between. Their presence, vague and grasped, familiar in a way that he could not describe. The small tender of heat when he first basked in Sumihiko’s smile. Distant memories, promises to always look ahead though he could not grasp them, struggled to comprehend their weight or meaning. Often found himself frustrated that he could not grasp the smoke that often faded, and the light scent of sakura blossoms that followed. Ached his heart as he struggled to breathe amongst a world that bore familiarities, all while remaining foreign to him. The late hours of kendo his only relief, the swings nostalgic in some way that he could not place into words. However, unlike the growing structures of buildings around him in places that his heart longed for foliage and fauna, the form came naturally to him. As though in some past life he had been bathed in hours of sweat, muscles strained and well adapted to hours of training, kendo was comforting. When the young man had made the university kendo team, his spirit had felt instant relief. Relaxing at the grasp of the practice sword between his fingers, the effortless bend of his knees, and the fluid motions that rolled as effortless as the streams. The only moment in which his heart felt a small kindle, touched at the warmth of a fire that graced flint, sparks that longed to gain traction. The smile upon his lips genuine doomed to grow melancholy once more upon returning to the world around him. Where sunshine lacked the comfort of warmth. Though Tojuro walked amongst the day, and he smiled as any man his age did, it was in moments of quiet that his heart longed for a presence that he could not comprehend. In his life regardless of the efforts he put forward, the places he wandered, and the people he greeted, Tojuro Rengoku often felt that his grasps at happiness evaded his reach. Slipped through his fingers like smoke leaving him little more than to study the blooming callous at his fingertips.

His feet could not carry him fast enough as he weaved through the passing of the ground. Shop keepers greeting customers, small children in their little hats and outfits ushered along like little ducklings to elementary school. Secondary girls giggled amongst themselves, discussing the latest fashion trends, and boys who were too involved in their own activities to think of love. Parents sending off their children to school, rushing to the market, and to places of employment. Elders that met for checkers, teachers preparing their materials for the day, and the distinct flow of traffic that buzzed around him, no today, Rengoku’s feet could not carry him fast enough. His kendo practice had run far later than he had intended, dreading to part from his swordplay for yet another day pushing the books, exams, and pencils. He swore he hardly knew what his university professors were talking about half of the time, his mind often distracting him. Drifting him away over small memories that could not quite take root, the blooming of the cherry blossoms this time of year had a way of captivating his senses, and spiriting him away to daydreams. His sunset eyes grazing the tree line above his head, shaded the sidewalks, and passerby. Delicate waves of pink petals that drifted into the breeze, released the gentle scent of floral notes. Greeted spring in a way that he never quite could, for as long as he could remember, the cherry blossoms had always weighed down his heart. As though he mourned the loss of winter beneath their blossoms. Threatened to slow his pace, a small lump that had begun to form at the base of his throat. Chided himself for once again being carried away by their sways beneath the gentle sunlight, he didn’t have time for this. Rengoku was already late enough as it was-- clasped his book bag to his side, and arched his dark forked-eyebrows. The swat of his morning workout ebbed at his brow, as his blonde hair fluttered in his stride. Unaware of the fallen flowers that had caught in his hair. The sound of his feet lost amongst the pavement, growing increasingly aware of the noticeable decline in peers his age. Later than he had imagined. Time for a short cut, he thought with a laugh. Allowing his body to weave into the side, hopping over various fences. His strides trailing through back yards. The flippant apology he left in his wake of startled grannies, and new mothers hanging laundry. Begged his sympathies over his shoulder as he maneuvered through the urban environment as he often did on late days. The last of structures to perform parkour within his sights, he would make it! He knew it! Confident in his stride, the grasp of metal beneath his fingertips, Tojuro bounded over the metal lining, his grin revealed his triumph.

Celebrated far too soon. The Ishioka family had adopted a dog, Kotaro he presumed from Mrs. Ishioka’s squeal of shock. Her hair formerly pinned in a bun, disheveled from her attempts to catch the misnamed dog. That giant pupper was anything but small! Nor was it accustomed to Rengoku’s morning antics. The canine’s enthusiasm having caught her off guard, practically dragging her off of the veranda in a cry. Her apron muddled and now smeared, the early morning laundering caught in Rengoku’s escape--- Mrs. Ishioka yellowing out sincere apologies though it had been his own fault, and the small children giggling as they ran after their pooch. The tumble in the wrong direction having rolled him through a series of bushes, dragged him down the hill. Rolled him through snagged branches that caught his cheeks, leaves hitched to the crimson hues of his hairs. Strands standing at odd ends, only able to procure himself from the ground. The snap of branches revealing the trail he had created in his dissent, the reveal of barking awaiting his trek up the slope. His environment unfamiliar, yet nostalgic. A light breeze nestled against the sakura blossoms. Rattled petals that greeted the sky, the wistful scent tickling his nose fragrant and drawing a nagging feeling of recollection that drew him to his feet. Eyebrows furrowed, succumbing to wanderlust as he stepped forward. Welcomed by spring that danced along a path that had long been overrun with weeds and foliage. His crimson eyes lit by the early light of day peeking through long eyelashes. A plethora of life claimed the route, ivies that crawled over crumbled stone. Evergreens that asserted it’s grasp against abandoned stone lanterns. Caterpillars that emerged into the day, wiggled across luscious leaves, his fingers gently sweeping the plants from the structure beneath its clutches. Delicate in the way he unwound the vines, the toro beneath withered. Faded from the light of day, whispered dreams Rengoku had forgotten, teased at memories that could not be his own. Abandoned by time. The draw of darkened forked eyebrows as he followed the trail they guided into the valley. Hushed tales weaved across hidden stone paths, only the occasional stone lantern visible without assistance, as faded from view as the trajectory beneath his practiced steps. As though guided by ghosts, traces of winter and time littering the ground. Scars of pass years, of inclined weather, and neglect evident with each step. Unable to deny the confidence of his footing, the crumbling walk way tucked beneath the fallen sakura blossoms. Nostalgia captivating his thoughts, leaving him anxious and filled with melancholy. Unable to answer the comfort that the path brought him, as though he had been swept away to the land of dreams. Past glimpses that whispered to him, foggy and difficult to make out. Formed frustration in his pout as his eyes traced the blossoms that had begun to bud above him. The distant voice of singing whispered through his ears as though greeting his arrival. A siren’s song that tempted the dance of flowers. Drew fort the chill down his spine, summoned the faintest of blush to his cheek. Memories sweet and bitter as the winter’s snow threatened his heart. Formed the raise of the hairs at the base of his neck, shook his core. Lit the flame of his soul, and drew him forward. Delicate and tender, a temptress melody that threatened to send him to another time.

Another life.

The crush of air that met his lungs as he dashed up the stone path. Forgoing ceremony and tradition. “Sakura sakura,” bolted through the torii gates he had known, the path his in that life had tread. Guided by instincts, and practice, time had worn his surroudings, but could not dull his senses. Lured by ghosts, uttered prayers between peeked eyelashes. “noyama mo sato mo,” shy humming that hammered his chest. Robbed him of breath, the strain of weary muscles exhausted from his morning practice now forced to endure the incline of slopes. Figments of memory, the delicate silhouette of a woman bathed in the light of wisteria. “Mi-watasu kagiri”, far too enthralled in his search to acknowledged the middle age miko who’s hair had already greeted grays and the wrinkle at her brow. Nor aware of the ferocity of her grasp upon her broom as she called after him. His soul ablaze, the life that had evaded his spirit for so long within his grasp. The path way as clear as the day Rengoku had left your side, marred only by the fading years. Stone lanterns erected over passing blooming treas. Waves of purple, the wisteria grove. So close. “Kasumi ka kumo ka”. Faintly aware of the patter of water beneath his shoes. The temple erected from the surface of the pond, vibrant and warm. Blissfully unaware of the moss beneath his feet. Bounded over steps. To see the weaved baskets, the gathered blooms bathed in familiar violet once more. To bear witness to the red hakama that met with the white korosode in this life as it had in the last. “Asashi ni niou”, each step drawing him closer to a past he had forgotten. That he had abandoned—to gaze upon your doll like eyelashes, to see the song pour from small, delicately painted lips once more. A prayer his current form had carried for so long, to meet the woman who he had longed desperately for. “Sakura sakura” The opportunity to once again dedicate hours at your side. To bask in the warmth of your gentle smile, to listen to the softest of giggles. To share with one another what this life had brought you—together. “Hanazakari,” this life had likely provided the opportunity to explore. The realization drawing the kindle of his smile, dawning his joy. He could not wait to hear what a life outside the temple walls had gifted you. How his spirit had yearned for your touch, wondered if it was still bathed in the scent of wisterias. For your touch to be his, and his alone. “Sakura sakura” his insides reassuring him that it had been your prayers in the past life that had carried him here, and would reunite your bonds. A life gifted with the opportunity to year your hum of the softest lullabies into old age. To press his ear to your throat as you had sworn him so many years ago, to finally be lovers. “Yayoi no sora wa” To show you the world you dreamed of—together. To touch upon the reality of this modern world. To finally play amongst the flowers as though you were still children. To greet you upon a bed of wisteria. To have your fingers thread through his hair once more, to tease the loss of his ponytail in his current state. Dared to claim envied beauty. To allow his body to burn in a way he could never before considered. Never allowed his past turbulent life the possibility. “Mi-watasu kagiri.” To meet your gaze. To cross the threshold his heart had always safeguarded. Stolen kisses born of flame and wisteria. Declare your lips his own. Boisterous and innocent pinkie promises he would fulfil in this life. “Kasumi ka kumo ka” to be so bold as to finally claim you as his bride. To painstakingly utter a prayer into your hair, to captivate you in an embrace that he had yearned for near a century. “Izaya izaya”. To touch upon a world that could finally be his own. To know the warmth of your lap in this form. To profess his love, to ensure you knew of his dedication. The dedication he had carried through the last life into this one, to profess his love into long hours of late nights over and over again. To know your cries of ecstasy, filled to the brim with his resolved. “mini yukan.”

For the pinkie promise that had defied time.

The pavilion that floated upon the water, erected on barriers that had maintained their integrity through the decades had been meticulously maintained. Nestled amongst sakura blossoms that met wisterias spirited to another world. Talisman cared for, the wood sparkled amongst the day light, affectionately tended to by the few miko that wandered the ground. Amber eyes that captivated the flame of another life, fallen between waves of orange and kindled reds swept over the structure. Rengoku’s heart growing heavy as his feet resisted to budge. You were. Just as you always were. Tucked amongst the blossoms where sakuras met wisterias, a vision of spring and warmth. The flutter of a dress that teased the wind, dared to flicker above the knee. A modern dress, though his aged bound heart had longed to see the delicate flesh in the past life found himself flushed. The touch of the high neck the fabric pleated adorably against the base of your throat, and the intricately weaved oatmeal sweater that met your shoulder blades. Shielded you from the chill of the early spring day, your hair adorned only a small embellishment of blooms that purred of your duties. Verified that the vision that stood before him. Your smile pressed between strained lips, weighed down as the hand that grasped your own.

The floral scent of wisteria tickled your nose familiar and comforting as it had always been. For as long as you could remember, your family had been the sole proprietors of the overlooked sanctum. Your ancestors had captivated the shrine through the passage of time, tales of passed down through the generations of love, of dedication, of sacrifice, and promises born of your blood. Though most of the burdens of the past had been alleviate in the modern world, your family as a whole upheld traditional standard. Duties that fell to you as the first and only born child of the priest. The expectations of carrying on a lineage and the weaving of talismans that admittedly, held onto a past that no longer seemed relevant in the present day. As well versed in their crafting as the prayers uttered in ceremonies, to the expectations that had been thrust upon you in your coming of age. Your eyes staring down at the hand that clasped your own. Aware of the gentle breeze that toyed with the strands of your hair, and danced amongst the petals that littered the pond sanctum. The tremble of the fingers that threaded through your own, captivated them, and claimed them beneath his hold. Recognized the tremble of your brow weighed down by duty as you studied his delicate skin. As tender as a petal, elegant in the pale tones. Fragile and unaccustomed to work, wealth that had followed him through the generations. His boots weighed against the wood flooring, proper in the way he conducted himself despite the daring grasp of his hands amongst your own. The bashful fumble of words, of affections and promises born of wisteria and sakura blossoms. Though he had spoken them so earnestly, and willingly, nor did you have reason to doubt his claims, you could not deny the weight of your breast. The way your eyes fell from his dark walnut curls well cared for and perfumed by gentle notes of citrus, soft tints of jasmine, and the hidden masculinity of sandalwood. The cologne as dainty and composed as the man that stood before you. The soft touch of his green sweater the sleeve that brushed against your fingertips the same color as the tea you had been served under the watchful gaze of your marriage broker. Eyelashes that resembled a doll’s that kissed at the edge of blessed aquamarine irises. The heat of his cheeks, and the small press of a mole at the corner of his right eye, the adoration evident as he gazed down at you. Pressed lips, that had been so hesitant at your greeting. Having fumbled over his greeting, nearly spilt his tea cup stunned save for the murmurs of surprise that fell between his lips. Now far different than the bold claims before you. Whispers of a pass love, born of another life in which you had been dedicated to one another. Separated in death prior to your shared nuptials, illness having stolen you away from him. Far bolder than he had been at your first meeting, though the shy blush that formed at his cheek bones revealed his affections you had captivated at your fateful encounter.

His confessions of a past life fuzzy, small recollections of a delicate man that whispered in the late hours of sleep. Robbed of joy, and succumbed to duty, though Daisuke Fujiwara stood before you now just as he did those many years ago, ready once more to pledge himself to you… something felt wrong. Just as it had then. In the distant hours of sleep, recollections that had plagued you upon meeting Daisuke for the first time, it was true. You had known him in a past life, and had been betrothed. The details… certainly lacked the romantic endeavors he lamented. Hearing his confession once more, clasped his cold fingers that delicately contained your own. You could not stop the falling of your heart. Nor the fumble of your eyebrows. You understood that he was the favor candidate for marriage, one that your father had selected amongst many would be suitors. Nor could you deny that the man was attractive, the young Fujiwara--- ah, he had asked you time and time again to drop such formalities if you were to wed… Daisuke was as eloquent as a blossoming bud that welcomed spring. Your mother had teased that Kichijoten, the goddess of beauty and happiness must have blessed his birth, and thus upon your parent’s reasoning, was a symbol of prosperity for your family and pending marriage. Yet, for all of the praise he had adorned, and the natural place at your side he had assumed, you heart plummeted to the bottom of the pond upon his proposal. Dread touched upon your shoulders, threatened to draw tears from your eyes. Though why, you could not understand, left only to trace the missing callouses of his hand.

“[LN]!,” the voice of summer boomed. Shattered the serenity of the pond, melted the touch of winter of Daisuke’s fingers across your own. The unexpected intrusion catching the both of you surprise as though you had already accepted the title of lovers tucked away from sight. The guilty blush Daisuke bore, the confused touch of his eyebrows as his sea touched eyes found the entrance of the shrine. The toss of your hair, the distinct scent of warmth. The cooled embers of a fire, staunched smoke that captivated your senses. The orange Osmanthus that lingered upon your skin. The swirl of a bonfire perfumed upon the sanctum, tender notes of Japanese Red Cedar. Masculine and as bold as the man that stood before the sanctum bathed in sweat. The roll of his shoulders as he heaved, desperately grasping for air that threatened to evade him. The fork of his eyebrows startled, eyes that whispered the hues of fall, the tumble of maple leaves that transpired from the brightest of reds to the warmth of a persimmon. The swell of sunflower petals that masqueraded as the strands of his hair. His mane far shorter than you remembered, and yet the depth of red that met the ends of his hair as reminiscent as the Higanbana you had sent to his grave. The crushing sorrow that plowed your heart, shuttered your senses and recoiled your hand from Daisuke’s touch. Clutched your breast in distress, all too aware of the tears that tumbled down your cheeks.

The obvious distress drawing Fujiwara’s gaze. The spill of your words robbed your betroth of his own. Snubbed the defense that he had intended to impart. The fall of waves crashed against your skin as he appraised you, far startled to hear a name that he had known in a past life. The significance in which you shook, the grief that spilled between rouged lips, “K-Kyojuro.” Shattered memories pieced together, hissed bitterness that ebbed your spirit. Chained you to a fate you had not accepted. Yes, yes death had in fact separated you betrothal from Fujiwara, but it would not have met you so soon if not for the man you had mourn that stood before you know. The heat of tears that caught your cheek, shook your shoulders upon the sight of him. Why here? Why now? Chocked back the rue in your voice. The ghost of another woman’s past that claimed your features. Weighed down your smile, drained the life from your body, and as though to breathe yet another breath would fatigue your bones—the shadow of his own loss leaving Fujiwara with his burdens. The specter before him, remeinescent of the same [LN] he had loved in his past life, plagued by duties, and lost love. The rueful smile that met his lips.

“I-I believe y-you need a moment.”

Not that the words had bore significance to you, far too enticed by memories of parting grasps. Fingers that had captivated your own, how desperately you had attempted to pull him into your sanctum so many decades ago. How a single glance upon his smoldering gaze had tumbled your decorum back then. How the loss of his smile had threatened to smother you where you had stood. The quiver of your voice, now the same as it had been then. Except, this time, you hadn’t the heart to tempt him to your embrace. The years, and disance of reincarnation had familiarized you with the chill of winter—the bitterness of a life without him. “Leave,” you demanded as you tucked yourself to your side. Daring to disappear into the inner sanctum. To evade his sight, just as he had faded from your own so many years ago. “I said LEAVE.” Your voice growing hoarse and strained, reminded once more. He abandoned you.

“[FN],” his voice warm. Resolve kindled and mournful. Regretful of past decisions, though you cared not.

Rage that had concealed your years of grief, leaving you to attempt to shake off the hand that had clasped your own. To scold him. To scream obscenities. To curse him. You had grown, you both had. To lay to rest the fringe of a life you had desperately longed for, with a man who had abandoned you to fate. The rattle of your hand leaving you panicked his touch—horrified at how after all these years, in this new body it comforted your spirit. To tear apart the seams of a connection that had followed you in death. To scream his name in the rage only a scorned lover could know. The ache of nausea, the faint recollections at how Rengoku had separated his calloused fingers from your own delicate ones. The formality had borne upon your parting, the cursed words that had destroyed your very being. Dared to rear your other hand. The thought to administer physical punishment having briefly crossed your mind. Settling only to a fist that trembled at your side. Robbed you of life, fastened you to duty, to the Fujiwara of that decade. Dared to snub you from that life, his loss having brought you to him far sooner than either of you had expected. “Please, live a long life.” Your averted gaze catching the small quiver of his eyebrows. The fire of his being dimmed momentarily, the ghost of past decisions. Though he had sworn the utmost sincerity of your parting. Rengoku had not expected such sentiments to have been the blade that you would equip before him. Ignorant to the scar he felt blossom upon hearing your hiss. Rage, and hurt dripping from your tongue. The tug of your hand caught once more between your fingertips though his strength kept you stapled. Inappropriate, he understood, but he dared not release you for fear that he would never see you again. I-It had been for the best, he had told himself upon his parting of you so many years ago. Duty. Sacrifice. He had paid the ultimate, though it had not been his life he had relinquished. His present form desperately clinging to the frays of a life he should not pine. All too aware of the ache of his breast. The crack of your voice bearing upon his heart, the pain he had inflicted so many years ago still evident. Carved into your very being, wounds that not even rebirth had healed. To hold you as he should have that very day—betrayed by his own impulses. Captivated you into his arms, though he recognized the startle of your hand. A slap that had not fallen, lost to the tremble of your delicate form. Pressed your nose against his neck. Breathed in the gentle hues of floral notes that clung to your skin despite the years. Wisteria. Begged for your touch, all too aware of how he had forced himself upon you, Rengoku pleaded. Begged forgiveness. His own voice revealing his regret.

“I-I will, [FN]. At your side. Everything of this life I have, that I could ever accomplish, all this life—it’s yours. Do with it as you please. J-just, please. Please, live a long life, at my side.”

Sea foam eyes that betrayed the fall of Aphrodite fell to the depths of the pond; the rueful smile etched upon his delicate porcelain features. Dark hair that curled over his eyes, shielding him from the view of lovers intertwined, just as they had always been. Though his heart, had not quite accepted it so many years ago. Lost amongst the gentle breeze that spirited the cherry blossom petals from the pond, drowned them in sorrow. Weighed down by a love that would never come, one that he could never claim. Lamented a love that had never truly been his own, all too aware in this life that the woman he had loved in another life, was never his own.

“Are you okay with this?” The aged weave of a graveled voice inquired.

His eyes peeking over his shoulder, mournful of the way he had intruded upon the lovers. Forced an apologetic smile as Daisuke’s gaze met Kikuchi’s own. The wear of the years, of a life spent as a miko in this life and the last, wisdom he had never understood, but had always accepted. Dared to peek once more at the tryst, of sworn promises. Pinkie promises that would be fulfilled in this life, swallowed the remorse that threatened his heart once more. As though, once again, he had buried his betrothed. Aware that he could no longer pursue such a marriage, Fujiwara found himself aware of the gentle smile that formed upon his lips. The woman he had known in another life, vibrant amongst the euphoric shades of pink and purple. Loved as he had always longed, the light he had witnessed upon a chance meeting in his youth in his past life, returned to her present form. Confessed the burden of his heart, reflected upon how meeting his bethrothed in his past life. The meeting had been one he had long awaited for, had celebrated it’s acceptance upon so many refuted suitors. Had been over joyed to see the beautiful shrine maiden after all those years—how his heart had been devastated to witness the state of his bride.

“I-I think… I only ever wanted to see her happy.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! The third and final installment is now ready! In Our Life | Kyojuro Rengoku. Reminder: It is spicy, MDNI!

#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #flame hashira #in another life #🍡tsuyospeaks

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nikysavi · 1 year ago

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I might make a cosplay-ish Sakuya finally. A fem one

#I've just realised I've bought a lot of really good clothes for her #hatoful boyfriend #sakuya le bel shirogane

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sillyfudgemonkeys · 1 year ago

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My freaking life with naming schemes for the FeMC.

Me pre-movie: Oh! Minako like a fem version of Minato (narrator: little did she know, Minato was unisex). But Hamuko is a fun one too! Such fun fan names. I’ll use Minako if I’m doing a Twin AU tho. Me, post-movie pre-stage play and P5: Oh I could do Makoto Yuki. I mean it’s the male’s name, and they are probs one and the same person. And Makoto Yuki is unisex so it works out (narrator: dipshit over here still doesn’t realize Minato is unisex). Regardless, they seem to go for the anime names so I should get attached to this instead. Don’t want a repeat of Souji. :’) Maybe I’ll give her a nickname of “Ko/Kou-chan” just for fun. Me, post-movie and stage play, pre-P5: Oh she has a new semi official name! Kotone! And so does the MC! Sadly I don’t think they’ll use/get attached to them. I mean, Atlus has only been using the anime names, I don’t want a repeat of Souji. :’) Me, post movie/stage play/P5, pre- Puzzle dragon/P3P rerelease (aka when Makoto N was announced): ............GDI! This is worst than saying Yu’s name out loud in english. Yu sounds like you, and Narukami is too much of a mouthful. But now Makoto is taken by another big char??? And Yuki is already another 3-4 chars (including nicknames). TT0TT Ahhhh and the chick looks like FeMC too???? Wtf, FeMC hasn’t been acknowledged in so long, plus Yusuke looks like P3MC, are they trying to hurt me more. ;w; Screw it, we’ll go with my Ko-chan nickname (with Minako/Hamuko variants) until she gets a new name. TT0TT Back to calling P3MC Minato again.....or maybe I should just fully adopt P#MC? Yeah let’s go with that. orz Me: post movie/play/P5/puzzle dragon/P3P release but pre-P5X: Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh no. I’m not getting attached still. I hate this mixing of canons. Give Sakuya justice! At least PQ’s personality matches Makoto Yuki....... Kotone doesn’t match her PQ2 counterpart imo.... I can’t. I won’t. Me post-everthing but esp P5X: So Mont’s name is probably “Kotone?” ....haha....AHFJDSAFJSAJFLA Oh it’s Makoto N all over again. Oh and there’s another Yuki? FanTASTIC!

#silly talks #queue #q #my reaction to finding out about kotone #and my journey with the freaking names #how i go about names: if I'm talking about the MC in general then I go with PMC #if i'm talking about a specific adaptation (or spinoff where they use that name?) then I use the name in that #why do I prefer P3/4(/1) manga names but not P5? 1) I didn't allow myself to get attached to the P5 one cause I knew it'd be changed #2) I hate the names Makoto and Akira (ironically I prefer their characterization I just dislike their names)#makoto name hate predates P5 by years klfjsdakjf I just never liked that name (since like 2007ish I've disliked the name)#if you ever see one of my playthorughs they'll probs be named Souji/Minato/Ren or Isue (my fan name for P5MC)/naoya #as for Minako vs Hamuko I like both equally I usually type Hamuko cause hams is more fun to say #can'd do Mina cause there's minato #i was more of a minako person in high school but started using hamuko more when I got to college but I like both fan names #there's my silly history with the names and my preference #i need to get this outta my drafts it's so dumb kdlsfk TT0TT

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fae-renjun · 1 day ago

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...AND EVERY CHRISTMAS AFTER — o.so

PAIRING oh sion x fem!reader ── .✦ GENRE childhood friends to lovers, fluff, very mild angst ── .✦ WARNINGS just kissing, the most fluff i've ever written ── .✦ SYNOPSIS in which you’ve spent every christmas growing up with sion, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spend every christmas after with him too. ── .✦ A/N this is my entry for the @k-films 2024 advent calendar! ── .✦ WC 1.4k+

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 11:27am

It’s Christmas day, and the whole house is alive and in a hurry. Shouts of “mom, where’s my sweater?” and “get out! I need to use the bathroom!” fill the air, drowning out George Michael’s voice in Last Christmas as it plays from the living room speakers. Frantic relatives rush through the hallways past fairy lights and fake wreaths to get ready for the guests to arrive. It’s the first year in your life that the guests haven’t stayed over on Christmas eve.

“Y/N, can you make me hot chocolate?” shouts Sakuya from the floor above. “Why would I?” you reply to the brother in question. “I’ll do your dishes tonight.” “Deal.”

While you stir away at the two cups of hot chocolate in front of you, it becomes difficult to get your mind off the foreboding you’d felt in the pit of your stomach since waking up that day. You love your family, you really do. Winter break has been beyond fun with your cousins in town. But just this once you wish you could spend Christmas at your friend’s party instead. Just so you could avoid him. You still don’t have it in you to face him. Not after last December.

Almost as if your thoughts hold summoning powers, the doorbell rings, “Kids, come to the living room, they’re here!”

You walk out of the kitchen to face the family of your mother’s best friend, including her son: Oh Sion. The boy you hadn’t seen since new years, when you took a chance and kissed him and he didn't kiss back. The boy who stared back in disbelief after you pulled away which was more than enough to add to your mortification. The boy you’d made every effort to avoid all year.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 24th december 2016, 7:54pm

“They’re so stupid, why would they use that door?”

“The point of the movie is that they’re stupid Sion.”

“Okay, but-”

Before the argument you’re having over Home Alone can go on any longer, your mother shushes both of you, “be quieter, everyone else is trying to watch the movie too.”

You lock eyes with Sion and then both of you turn back to your mother, “Now you’re just lying mom.”

“Yeah Mrs.L/N, it’s a kids movie, none of the adults here care. Not even you.”

“And Saku isn’t even old enough to know what’s going on.”

Your mother reopens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to change her mind, smiling at the two of you and shaking her head. The two of you turn back to the movie as she turns to Sion’s mom, saying something about how no matter how much the pair of you bickered, you had a habit of standing up for yourselves together. If nine-year-old you cared to listen, you would have heard them say they hoped you two stayed this way forever.

It’s Christmas eve, you’re sitting next to a boy you would realise you loved 5 years later, and your mothers already think you are meant to be.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:02pm

Since he got here, you had avoided eye contact, excused yourself to finish making hot chocolate, excused yourself to go to the bathroom, excused yourself to set up the lunch table. Alas, there were only so many excuses you could make before being forced to sit in the living room with everyone else. By some Christmas miracle, when you got there the only open seat was the one right next to Sion.

Sion shifted to the side, making more space for you to sit, but instead you maneuvered yourself to sit on the carpeted floor right next to the Christmas tree. You manage to get through a lot of the wait time before lunch by eating candy, drinking your hot chocolate, only speaking when asked a question (usually “yes my studies are going great” or “yes, I've started looking at a few colleges”), and most importantly by looking everywhere except at him. Yet, your mother just had to shatter your nearly flawless streak of avoidance.

“Y/N, why don’t you get some hot chocolate for Sion too?”

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2021, 1:27am

“Shhh, they’ll hear!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

You just shook your head in response and reached over to redirect the light from the phone in his hand to the stairs in front of you, tiptoeing down, hoping the wood underfoot won’t creak. The boy next to you grabs your hand with his free one, pulling the two of you closer together than you were before. You stare at the hands and then at his face.

Sion leans to reach your ear to whisper, “I thought I heard something from upstairs.”

All you do is nod in response and continue carefully making your way down. Sion’s face stays close to yours, his hand continues to envelope your own.

You reach the entrance to the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs, turning on its lights. Sion takes his hand off yours, coughing awkwardly as he moves away and turns off his phone's flashlight. You head to the shelf in the furthest corner, getting on your toes in an attempt to reach the cookies right at the top. Sion approaches from behind leaning over you to reach the cookies easily. The gesture and the proximity make your fourteen-year-old heart flutter.

He takes a seat on the floor, placing the cookies down, just as you do the same with the cola you pulled out of the fridge.

“I can’t imagine a Christmas without you. Or uh- you know. Without all of this,” he says quietly.

“Me neither,” you respond, just as quietly.

It’s Christmas day, you’re sitting on your kitchen floor with a boy, and you’re beginning to realise you may not just have a silly crush on him. You might just be in love.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:27pm

The kitchen has always been just out of earshot of the main living room area. The voices of both of your families fade into the background as the two of you walk in, the rapid beating of your heart becoming louder by the second and filling your ears. You start making the hot chocolate as he leans on the counter next to you, trying (and failing) to meet your eyes.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Not just today, all year. Since new year’s.”

“I don’t really want to talk about new year’s.”

“Hm?” he hums with a questioning tone.

You stop stirring, finally meeting his eyes, “It was just- you know. A mistake. Drank a little too much. Won’t happen again.”

“We only had one beer each that night. I know your tolerance is higher than that. And I’d like it to happen again.”

There’s a pause. You process what he’s just said to you. Sion can tell by the look on your face that the cogs are turning in your head and a smirk begins to form on his face.

“Oh.”

He nods, then after another pause you continue, “But you didn’t kiss back.”

“Because I was surprised! You’ve got to give a guy a second to figure out what’s going on before you assume the worst,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment while he smiles at your stunned expression, “I was surprised you liked me back.”

“You liked me?” “I might actually be in love with you.”

“Oh,” your voice now reduced to a whisper out of shock, “I might be in love with you too.”

Now your body turns to face him fully, just as his hand moves to your cheek. He leans down, his lips meeting yours as your hands go to his sides, grabbing his sweater. You’ve kissed people before but with Sion it’s different (especially when he kisses back). You pull apart for breath, “Ok now this is our first kiss, the new year's one doesn't count.” You laugh in response, “Deal.”

Sion engulfs you in a hug, the warm kind he’s always given you. His arms wrap around your waist as yours encircle his neck. As you hug the two of you confess how much you missed each other all year. When the hug breaks he kisses you again and you can feel the smile on his lips.

All of a sudden your attention is brought back to your previous task, realising the hot chocolate must be getting cold. Sion watches you with adoration in his eyes as you turn back to the counter to finish stirring. The adoration has always been there, you’re just beginning to notice it.

It’s christmas day, you’re standing in your kitchen with the boy you love, and you finally know he loves you just the same. You’re excited for new years day, and every christmas after, because each one will be spent with him.

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