#i wish people like this would just vanish and let us enjoy the game

[saltynsassy31]

See this? This is what not to do during a splatfest

This is the exact type of people that make splatfests not fun :/

Like, I wouldn't even care if we lost if people didn't make stuff like this, act like they're better and all that, it's devastating that people will do this

Every spaltfest I fear of people like this and they always resurface from the depth of hell to torment the poor people, and then they ask why we are upset about a "silly squid game" like they aren't the ones actively causing the rage

[tymime]

I'm very alarmed by how many people are dismissive of the lost media community, even going so far as to spread misinformation about them. I've seen them characterize lost media seekers as ignorant whiners and brats, and that they're wasting their efforts. Do these people have any idea how difficult it actually is to find this stuff? It can take years, if copies even exist. Don't they value art preservation?

You'd be astonished by how many shows that are barely twenty years old that have simply vanished, with no clear indication of whether or not the copyright holders kept a record of it. When fans try to contact the people involved in the show, they often refuse to answer emails. These aren't old, aging shows from fifty years ago, decaying in some film can. These are shows from as recent as the 2000s and 2010s.

There's been a toxic attitude going around big media companies for a couple decades now, treating their IPs (and their customers) as disposable, moving on to the next thing as soon as profits dry up. This is a big part of the reason media becomes lost in the first place. Old show not getting enough ratings? Need to make room for a new show? Just get rid of it! Now, some of these examples aren't lost media, admittedly- but they definitely could have been, if not for an on-the-ball internet pirate downloading and backing them up. There's a series from 2002 called Whatever Happened to... Robot Jones? which hasn't been on the air in about twenty years. The original audio track was missing for many years, and had to be pieced together from several sources, with the video elements coming from a foreign dub. There was a music track heard in an episode of SpongeBob called "Humpback Hop" with several minutes cut from it, unheard of for two decades, and even the composer had lost all of his copies of it. It seemed like even Nickelodeon didn't have it in their archives, because they rerecorded it for a DVD menu. It's a miracle somebody finally tracked it down. There's a series from 2007 called Out of Jimmy's Head, whose original English version is still half missing. Even though by all accounts it's a crappy show, I still want to see it. (update: This show has been found, thank goodness.) And even though I'm not a fan, there are dozens of 2010s Cartoon Network shows that were once on HBO Max, that are simply gone. They're not in reruns, they're not officially streaming. You have to resort to piracy to view them. I wouldn't wish this fate on anybody. The Willow series from 2022 was taken off Disney+ mere weeks after its debut, just because not enough people watched it. It's stuck in the middle of a storyline.

Nintendo has been notoriously bad about this. They don't want you to play any NES, SNES, GB, or N64 games that aren't the most iconic best-sellers. They take down ROM websites, even if most of the games there aren't first party or being sold in any way. The only way to legally play a game that isn't available on the Switch is to pay hundreds or even thousands of dollars for a working console and cartridges. Most people can't afford to do that.

If it hadn't been for the efforts of unofficial programs like Ruffle and Flashpoint, thousands of flash games and cartoons would be unplayable and unwatchable.

Even if the cartoon is safe and sound locked away in some vault, instead of missing entirely, it still winds up unseen that way. The public has a right to see a show they used to be able to see and enjoyed, instead of it being unviewable for all eternity. "Oh, but they have a right to not let us see it! They own the rights to it, after all, and can do whatever they want!" some might say. What if WB went out of their way to destroy every DVD, Blu-ray, and video tape of Looney Tunes, and locked away all their copies? Would you feel the same way then? Would we not have a right to see them? Would you just roll over and take it, and let corporate overlords tell what you can or can't watch? Just shrug it off and say "Oh well, guess I'll never see it again"? How would it not irritate you? TV and movies aren't the same as some painting or statue where usually only one version of it exists in some museum or private collection. Media is meant to be distributed and seen worldwide, for everyone to enjoy in their homes. If they're stuck in some warehouse on some hard drive, they may as well not exist.

It extends out into other aspects of our lives- old buildings get torn down instead of getting restored, vintage interiors get torn out or covered up by something modern or ugly. There was a time when films and video tapes were routinely destroyed to make room for new ones, because nobody thought anybody would want to see them again. We need to get past this destructive pattern.

Am I grateful for streaming services and the content they make available? Of course I am. But as many have said before, they could take it all away, and a show can simply vanish, leaving fans to resort to piracy just to see it, if anyone even bothered to save it beforehand.

Being dismissive of these efforts is the sort of attitude that's part of the reason media gets lost in the first place.

[liliallowed]

Can we share headcanons cause I wanna know your opinions on mine!

I have a headcanon that just to annoy Dust the Player would probably just make fun of him. Joke about how kills people or attacks. Calls him short and flirts in derogatory ways. Pokes fun at his past loved ones and when he kills the player they claim jokingly he's a husband/wife/non-binary spouse beater. They are just the silliest little killer you've ever seen how could you ever be mad at them!

Just a smug bastard!

oh definitely.

I see them having a whole bunch of different sides.

a cruel apathetic side that LOVES the chase. they'll casually wait around on purpose to let him get more LV just to pin him down and give themselves more of a challenge. or sabotage his attempts by warning other monster or scarring them away. they mock him just to grin at his sweet sweet pretty HATEFUL GLARE.

a playful careless and reckless side that LOVES the attention and mind games he plays with them. they love getting stabbed in the back or feeling the surprise if having the rug pulled from beneath their feet when they thought they had a steady grip on their blade. they love his expressions, his reactions. SPECIALLY when he's angry. they try messing with him just to rile him up.

it was effective at first but then dust learns quickly and becomes unresponsive to their taunts or flirting.

they try to mask their weaknesses with these cruel jokes. to tell themselves and remind themselves it's just a silly little game they shouldn't take too seriously. casually joking about killing his family or... him being bad at exp farming... or...

it used to be fun... but now it just feels like they're pushing against a lie. a big lie that they don't care about this world.

they do. not the world that came before. they're attached to this hellscape purgatory of their own making. this desolate wasteland filled with monster dust feels like home.

and the third side they desperately pretend that doesn't exist...

tw: angst warning (self sabotage)

tw: potential triggers maybe

a saddened and broken sympathetic side they hide away because it'll only make things worse. sympathy is just an insult added to injury that they refuse to throw at sans. because they already know his response. of course they would. it's only natural. they would hate themselves too... they... do hate themselves! it's why it feels SO good when HE'S the one winning. they can feel a sense of relief. a sense of triumphant victory over the big bad evil human who they can project their own problems on. they wished they had his courage. his dedication. his sheer WILLPOWER to face their demons too. but no. they can't just GIVE him the win can they? no he has to struggle. he has to TAKE it from them. like the disgusting trash they are!

they don't have the RIGHT to be sorry. no they chose this and they'll STICK TO IT TILL THE END. they WANT this. right? they've always wanted this. but they feel empty. so empty. so pointless. and it always ends up in a way that the world just... forgets? if it means SCARRING the world to MAKE it remember them? so be it.

if it means they'll be a villain? SO BE IT! so much being a savior of monster kind did for them anyway.

it doesn't mean they don't care. it doesn't mean they sadistically enjoy seeing dust suffer. it gives them a sense of catharsis. they don't LIKE hurting him. but they also enjoy seeing it happen so that he can PAY IT BACK TENFOLD. they feel powerful when he takes them down. wishing that maybe their problems would just... vanish.

seeing his pained expression breaks their heart but also... makes them feel more understood somehow. makes them happy. it makes the sad. it's so bittersweet. so ironically HIM. it excites them. it makes them want to cry.

it makes their numb heart FEEL something. and they're addicted to it.

they're not a monster. just a person trapped in their obsession. someone who never had their closure and was stuck in the past. someone who would not let things go even if it meant they were also the one hurting.

but they're also quite silly and goofy. making jokes and doing the randomest unpredictable bullshit possible to throw dust off.

all in all I think they're ALL of the above to some extent. the do feel guilt and shame. they do get rage baited and extremely pissed at an unfair kill. they would scream at the screen with an angry face, and would laugh their ass off if dust gives them an unexpected reaction.

they're still them. despite everything.

[an-angel-in-the-garden]

I loved your Jihae dating hcs, I'm so happy to see people still enjoying this game.

Could you do a prompt where after Jihae wins, Jieun offers to send him back to Earth to be with the mc using the court mages. Would Jihae be able to let Jieun go to be with the mc? And if he does, his reaction to the mc taking him back after being gone for years

Okay so I saw this and fell in love with the idea! I am so happy to hear that you liked my Jihae hcs and it's so nice when I get requests for this and Nameless. Small snippet under the cut, note at the end. Hope you enjoy~

I don't think it was easy for Jiaeh to leave Jieun's side

He would feel guilty, like he doesn't deserve that kindness from Jieun after everything that's happened

It took months maybe even a full year of Jieun pushing for Jihae to finally accept the offer

A part of him is scared there's a chance you'd be angry with him for vanishing suddenly or maybe you've already moved on from him

But the worst thing his mind supplies is the idea that you've forgotten him, that all the time you spent together has been wiped away leaving no room for him to come back

Jieun is who gives him the nudge to take that finally step in finding you again, with a promise that everything will be okay and that no matter what he'll always have a place in the Grass Kingdom

Upon seeing you again Jihae is hit with overwhelming emotions it's this sharp and stinging warmth sweeps over him until its hard to think

He hardly noticed his own body moving, his voice was suddenly calling out and his hand reached for you before he could think

It's not the first time he's hugged you like this but he's never felt more whole then right now

After that there was a lot to talk about, you'd both been so busy over the years yet it felt like nothing had changed between you

He was truly happy that you've been doing well and simarrily it was nice that he had manged to stand on his own again, to find things that made him happy

There's such a sense of fulfillment and joy that comes from you accepting him again and still loving him of course he makes it clear his love for you never vanished either

There's a lot to readjust to, he's spent the past for years working as knight again and helping Jieun become a wonderful king

Thanks to that it's once more ingrained into him that serveing is what he must do but that's not needed anymore

It's almost like having to start over but Jihae is happier with himself, he's more willing to let himself be happy

Being together with you is more than he thought he'd get and Jihae wants to make this second chance with you truly unforgettable

It's been four years since the end of this so-called game. A long four years of hardships and work. Even now it felt strange to see the house so empty no longer was it filled with animals or people instead it was just me. Jiaeh and Jieun had both vanished leaving without a proper goodbye but at least my last memories with Jiaeh had been happy. Jiyeon had been the first to leave after that, it didn't even take a full day before he was gone. Jiwoo was next, giving me thanks before leaving for the mountains to write. I bought his first book recently. Jisoo as expected was the last to go, it seems even if he couldn't remember me he still wanted to make sure I was okay. He still lives nearby and sometimes on my way home I pass by where he works. There's an odd comfort in knowing he's still doing okay.

Since then a lot more has changed as well. Just like me and Jihae had talked about, I continued to pursue my passions and did my best to lead a life I love. To some extent I'm glad the Wizard couldn't grant my wish but it stings knowing he couldn’t just come back. Still I find myself hoping he and Jieun are okay, that back in their kingdom they've found a way to be happy. With that in mind here I was looking at my greatest piece yet, a dandelion already being blown apart by the wind. Seeing it here meant everything to me, after so much work it could finally be here and I just wish Jihae could see it, see me. " Y/n!" Could it really be? A voice I hadn't heard in so long was there and real. The warmth of a hand I was familiar with pulled me close and I was blanketed by that beautiful silver. " Jihae!?"

Well would you look at that! This took me some time even though I was really excited for it. I rewrote it more than once before I was really happy with it but I think it turned out well. Pretty sure this is one of if not the longest thing I've written but I really love Jihae so ya know it was worth it. I hope you liked it and thanks again for requesting! ~ Lilly

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

The Super Mario Bros. Movie may be the most literal adaptation of a video game I’ve ever seen. I can just picture an emergency meeting at the studio where Matt Fogel told some executive “We have a problem. I’ve written the plot but I’m pretty sure it's only about 45 minutes' worth of movie. Also, the characters are thin and obvious”. The response? “Well then, cram in as many references to the Super Mario movies as you can and keep cramming until you have a product that meets our 92 minute quota. This should also take care of that 'character' problem you've foolishly highlighted”.

Mario (voiced by Chris Pratt) and Luigi (Charlie Day) are “The Super Mario Brothers”; the plumbers Brooklyn calls when the day needs saving. At least that’s what they’d like to be. When Mario and Luigi get sucked into a warp pipe, they land in the middle of an impending war between Bowser (Jack Black), his army of Koopas and the nearby Mushroom Kingdom. Worse, Luigi falls into Bowser's clutches. Desperate to save him, Mario goes to the Mushroom Kingdom’s Princess Peach (Anya Taylor-Joy) for help.

I vividly remember seeing the 1993 Super Mario Bros. Movie for the first time and feeling so disappointed that it looked and felt NOTHING like the games. I hated it and wished it was different. Well, that finger on that monkey’s paw menacingly curled alright. Be careful what you wish for.

Brought to us by Illumination, this is a good-looking movie. I can also praise Jack Black as Bowser, who is clearly having a blast, particularly when his character expresses his love for Peach through song. This is not a musical but the picture makes a great effort to give Bowser some much needed personality and it accomplishes this by giving him a few key eccentricities. Even if you know the incoming tune, it’ll still have you laughing out loud. I wish I had more good things to say. It moves at a fine pace? Kids watching won’t be bored? Sure. Let’s go with that.

For many years, you could count the number of good video game-based films on a single hand. The Super Mario Bros. Movie shows why. I’d wager that Mario is the most recognizable video game character of all time. Nearly every game featuring the Italian-American plumber would still be fun today. What the games do not have, however, is a story. There’s an objective, there are enemies and there’s a distinct visual style. That’s not enough and the source material isn’t an excuse. The Lego Movie proved even a no-story property can make for interesting characters and an intelligent plot with something to say. Super Mario Bros. is closer to Playmobil: The Movie. Not THAT bad, but so much of it feels like a commercial.

The story is so basic and the jokes aren't innovative but that's "ok" because they're slathered with endless references/easter eggs. Some are subtle, like background graphics that reference Jump Man. Others are so painfully in-your-face you groan. It’s not enough for the heroes to race to their destination; they have to be inside the same vehicles players use in Mario Kart, on a rainbow road like you would see in the game. Then the characters at the front of the group have to be taken out by a blue, flying shell. We know it's a blue flying shell because the character who “throws” it tells us it's a blue flying shell. It’s as if Nintendo was scared all of their games would suddenly vanish from existence so they had to write down reminders for themselves of everything featured in all of them.

You might argue those references are what we came here to see. I suppose you're partially right but so much of the film is spent reminding us of why we bought our tickets it forgets to do anything else but the bare minimum. You'll remember you've seen this picture but you won't learn anything new from it about any aspect of the franchise, its fans or creation.

I’m probably being harsher on this film than I should be but here’s the thing. There are so many other, better things you could be doing instead of watching this The Super Mario Bros. Movie. Playing any Mario game, for instance. At least there you’re actively participating and developing your hand-eye-coordination. You’ll probably laugh harder and have more fun too. The Super Mario Bros. Movie is just a way to exploit an already-existing property - and audiences. (Theatrical version on the big screen, May 12, 2023)

[arabellaflynn]

Holiday Housekeeping!

Hello all! The year is drawing to a close. FINALLY. I have good news and bad news, as usual.

The bad news is that my last steady gig sent me an email this morning telling me they won't be needing me after Thanksgiving. I am beyond pissed. Not at the lack of work; they essentially provide support services for ongoing events, so if there are no events, there's nothing to give me, and they have no control over that. What I'm pissed about is that these clients are supposed to be signing contracts for a fixed period of time/number of events, but they're letting people alter or cancel their contracts with basically no notice, and no penalty. They book me for a thing, I block off those dates and budget accordingly, then whoops! Event vanishes halfway through.

I was already looking for another job, but I guess now I have more free time to do it in. 

The good news is that I have some grant applications in process right now, and will almost certainly get one of them. The Mass Cultural Council offered recovery grants, with no strings attached -- the entire application was pretty much, "Are you an artist? Do you live in MA? Would you like some money?" Everything else is more merit-based and has to go through panels and committees first, but there is no Earthly reason that MCC would not award me that grant, so there is a good chance I will be getting $5000 somewhere in January. I realize this is not a huge amount of money to most people, but that's about six months' living expenses for me.

Unfortunately, January is still a ways away, so my Christmas list, for the third year in a row, is basically just "survival". Money is most useful and goes here or here. I do realize that you guys are here for entertainment, and "blogger pays rent!" is not very fun to read, but my Amazon Wish List is not much better. Mostly I wish someone would magically mail me shampoo and socks so that I don't have to worry about buying them. I did turn on the option that lets you ship other things along with Wish List items, so if anyone is dying to send me candy, have at.

If you wish to send the rats some holiday gifts... well, I don't blame you, they are almost criminally cute. Their Wish List is here. I put the kibosh on the 50 lb wheel of parmesan cheese, but it does include a lot of snacks, cuddly cage blankets, and the little hanging baskets they have so much fun with. You can also ship them random things, but please bear in mind that cage furnishings have to be either disposable, or made of something that is bleachable/boilable. Wood and other porous material will quickly become suffused with, shall we say, 'essence of rat' and will never be clean again. Rats, like dogs, are adorably disgusting.

Ratsgiving and Ratmas are not being canceled; they go up on Patreon, and are therefore work expenses. Plus it will force me to eat something other than beans and rice for a bit. I already bought most of the decorations before the bad news hit, anyway. I'm also running a promotion where anyone signed up to either this Patreon or my art/dance one by December 15th for $5 or more will get a Ratmas e-card, and $20 or more will be getting a physical Ratmas card, so keep an eye out for that.

I've tried to make the past few Advent Calendars more community-minded but this year I'm saying fuck it, I'm just going to spend a month writing about something I enjoy contemplating. Probably history of media/video games. I might also take another stab at streaming. I won't be on camera this time; the only private space I'd have to stream is in my bedroom, which is nowhere near big enough for a set, and unfortunately the gaming setup and the facecam setup in here are mutually exclusive. A Let's Play style stream with me on headset is the best I can do.

I'm just really tired, you guys. I want 2023 to be better.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/5m8sBq6 via IFTTT -------------------- Enjoy my writing? Consider becoming a Patron, subscribing via Kindle, or just toss a little something in my tip jar. Thanks!

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Spending Halloween together

Characters: Ayaka/Yae Miko/Hu Tao/Ganyu/Mona x gn!reader

Warnings: Yae being Yae, other than that, just fluff

a/n: It’s September, which means that it’s basically October already, which means that it’s almost Halloween. And as an average Halloween enjoyer it is my duty to remind everyone about it.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Ayaka

Ayaka always heard about people dressing up as all kinds of monsters, ghouls, and magical beings for Halloween, but her status as the eldest daughter of the Kamisato clan always became a hindrance, stopping her from joining in, leaving her to simply watch as others had fun whenever her schedule gave her a moment to spare. And while she had already come at peace with the thought of never being able to dress up herself, after meeting you, her fortunes seemed to turn.

While Ayaka felt bad for sneaking off without telling anyone else, whenever you noticed and shot her a re-assuring smile, her worries would vanish within an instance. And even though the costume you had put together for her wasn’t the most amazing thing, the fact that you got her one in the first place was enough to make butterflies appear in her stomach.

Over the next couple of hours, Ayaka had the time of her life. While she had often imagined being on one of the many festivals for Halloween herself, reality surpassed her expectations tenfold. And while seeing other’s costumes, playing the different games, and visiting all kinds of shops was exciting, before Ayaka knew it, she began spacing out while staring at you whenever the two of you stood still.

“Liking my costume, aren’t you?”, your joking voice suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts, and while the mask she wore did a great job at hiding her face, you still knew that her face was turning red at your sudden call out.

“I- Sorry, I was spacing out”, she admitted before letting her head hang in embarrassment, only for you to give her hand a small squeeze and shooting her a quick smile once again.

“Don’t worry Aya-”, you stopped yourself from speaking her name when you remembered that you were surrounded by countless of people, “my dear, I was only teasing you.”

While it was obvious that you were only using the pet name to not blow her cover, it still caused her face to turn even redder, not being used to it but definitely not disliking it either.

“Understood… my dear.”

Yae Miko

The time before Halloween was one filled to the brim with people anticipating the day to come. People would buy costumes, decorations, and horror novels, and Yae, being the businesswoman that she was, wouldn’t let such an opportunity pass.

So, while others would go around collecting candies, tell each other horror stories and overall have a great time, you were stuck behind a counter, having been “asked” by Miko to help with the publishing house for the day. Only to find yourself bored pretty quickly.

“Was it that necessary to ask me to help out? There barely are any customers. Anyone wishing to read a horror novel on Halloween already bought one”, you complained to Yae, seeing her relaxing on a comfortable looking chair while reading the book in her hands, leaving you to do all the actual work.

“Oh my, was it such a cruel thing of me to ask you to spend some time with me?”, she was quick to twist your words, something that, while usually leaving you to scramble for an answer, only got a sigh out of you this time.

“No, but couldn’t we do something else? I don’t know what, but something less boring than sitting here and waiting for anyone to be interested in purchasing a novel”, you suggested while leaning back in your own seat, feeling utterly bored, only for the Guuji to let out a small laugh.

“Fufu, so you want to do something else with me, don’t you? I didn’t expect you to be that nau-”

“STOP IT!”, you screamed out while your face turned all kinds of red, causing Yae to amuse herself even more, before you finally managed to somewhat regain your composure. “Y-You know exactly what I meant, so don’t try to make this sound weird”, you tried scolding her, only for be interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, leaving Miko to give you a smug face.

“Looks like you won’t be bored for much longer.”

Hu Tao

Even if you tried to, it would have been impossible for you to forget that Halloween was just around the corner, with Hu Tao reminding you whenever she had the possibility to, acting more and more happy with each day closer while refusing to tell you what it was that the two of you would do.

When the day actually arrived, only for Hu Tao to start dragging you from door to door in attempts of collecting candy, something you hadn’t exactly expected to do as an adult, you had to say that you were positively surprised by her decision to do something so-… normal. You had fully expected her to set Liyue harbour ablaze in one final “epic prank”, so you definitely weren’t complaining about asking its residence for candy instead.

Although you couldn’t wholeheartedly call what she was doing “asking”, Hu Tao almost acting like a debt collector at times.

“Trick or Treat!”, Hu Tao said her lines the moment she saw the door open, only for the person on the other side to shut it in a panic once they heard her voice, causing her to march up to the door and knock once again. “Sir, it appears like your door might have accidentally get closed by a strong wind current, but don’t worry. We are only here for sweets”, she stated loud enough to make sure the person on the other side could hear her, only for you to put your hand on her shoulder, hoping to convince her to leave the poor soul alone.

“We should just leave them alone, I doubt we’ll get anything from them”, you reasoned, only for Hu Tao to quickly turn around, shoot you a wide smile and nod, not before looking at the door number though, seemingly taking a mental note to bless them with one of her “funny” pranks the next time she had the time.

“Alright, we are leaving. But feel free to check out the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, we are having a special Halloween sale at the moment!”, she shouted her goodbyes before grabbing you hand and dragging you to the next door, making you silently wonder how many complaints you’d have to deal with the next morning.

Ganyu

It took quite a lot of convincing to make Ganyu decide to stay at home on Halloween instead of going to work like she always used to do. And while she at first had her doubts if it was alright for her to participate in an exclusively human tradition, she quickly found herself enjoying the process of decorating your home, putting up one décor after another until there were none left.

But no matter how much she enjoyed the day so far, the real challenge was yet to come. And while you re-assured you over and over again, that the children going from door to door wouldn’t care one bit if they got their sweets from someone fully human or half-human, she couldn’t help but continue feeling nervous.

“Wow, Miss your horns look great!”, one of the children at the door said in awe, leaving Ganyu to somewhat freeze up. But before she could respond and lie about them being props, another one spoke up, “Yeah, they almost look real. Where did you get them?”

“O-Oh, I made them myself”, she decided to use the chance to play along, only for the children’s’ eyes to light up.

“Oooooh. Can I touch them?”, the third one excitedly asked.

“What?”, Ganyu couldn’t help but feel taken by surprise, not knowing how to respond, and almost agreeing to their requests simply to not disappoint them. Only for you to come out of nowhere and help her out.

“Sorry, but it took us quite some effort to make them look so real. So, we don’t want to take any risks and accidentally destroy the costume. We want to preserve it for the other guests, after all”, you explained before giving each of them their share of candies, causing them to nod before saying their goodbyes and leaving.

“See? They didn’t seemed bothered a bit.”

Mona

Mona wasn’t that interested in Halloween, while she understood why children liked it, as an adult it seemed more like a chore like something that could be considered fun. Having to buy sweets for the children or risk getting your home bombarded with eggs definitely wasn’t what she expected to spend her already limited funds on, while dressing up as monsters or other “spooky” stuff seemed a bit too childish for her.

That being said, your thoughts on Halloween slightly differed from hers.

“How often do I have to tell you, I’m not dressing up as a witch”, Mona stated before letting out a frustrated sigh. “It’s childish”, she added, only for you to jokingly gasp.

“I think it’s not. I mean, I’m wearing a costume myself, do you think I am childish for it?”, you asked, only for her to respond by not responding at all. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

“I have to uphold my dignity, dressing up doesn’t exactly fit the image of a great astrologer”, she eventually said, only for you to look at the giant hat in your hand before glancing at the giant hat on her head.

“Sorry to tell you, but you already walk around in a giant hat, I don’t even think anyone would realise that you were dressing up if you donned another giant hat”, you countered, only for the two of you to continue arguing for what felt like hours.

“I’ll treat you to a nice dinner if you do it”, you eventually offered, instantly shutting Mona up as she stared at you with a confused look.

“Are you… trying to bribe me with dinner?”, she asked, only for you to shamelessly nod your head, causing her let out another sigh. “Why are you so insistent on me dressing up?”

“Because today’s Halloween and dressing up is part of the experience, no matter if child or adult. It’s about the most fun tradition one can participate, and I think you would look really cute dressed up as a witch”, you muttered the second part just loud enough for her to hear it, and while she’d normally reprimand you for saying something like that, Mona knew well enough that it had no affect on you. And so, the astrologer let out one last sigh before finally conceding defeat.

[latte-to-go]

the art of loving you [alcina dimitrescu]

summary ━━━ sometimes, it was difficult for you to tell if what you and lady dimitrescu, or alcina as she has allowed you to call her, had was love. it remained a lingering thought in your mind as her daughters continued to call you their mother’s ‘human play-thing’ and most days, you let it not get to you. but, it was difficult to ignore that fateful night and the lady of the house had easily noticed something was upsetting her little pet.

pairing ━━━ alcina dimitrescu x reader.

words ━━━ 1612

fandom ━━━ resident evil.

warnings ━━━ pure fluff, honestly. but, it has some hints of nsfw vibes but it doesn't go into them.

author's note ━━━ lady dimitrescu owns my heart and I have spent so much time reading fanfics about her that I just needed to write one of my own. who knew a tall sexy vampire lady would be what broke my hiatus and brought me back to tumblr? but, I am here to stay and I am so excited to write more reader inserts! and to continue to fill requests! for now, my requests are open! but, I will probably write a lot more for alcina as well! so, I haven't finished resident evil village yet because of how busy I am with work and that might make the characters a little out of character! but I couldn't wait to write about alcina! hopefully, I will have the game finished soon! some things have been spoiled for me already, but a lot of the game is still unknown because I am still in the very beginning of the game where ethan just gets to the village. but, I still hope you all enjoy this one-shot! it's just fluff between the reader and our lady!

DARK CLOUDS LOOMED AGAINST THE HORIZON, matching the catastrophic thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind as you numbly flipped the pages to the book you had tried so hard to distract yourself with. But, your mind had not retained any of the words written on the yellowed pages as your mind stayed on the woman that held every inch of your heart. With a sigh, you turned your gaze out the window instead. The window pane was cold to the touch, courtesy of the snow that remained a constant of the land.

It had only been two years since you had arrived at Castle Dimitrescu ━━ a mistake, truly. At least, at first, it had been as you stumbled across the maidens that the grandiose home belonged to. It should have been the last night of your life, but the lady of the house had taken a keen interest in you. You had not understood it at first, but you had grown attached to Alcina Dimitrescu and her… mysterious ways. Perhaps, you would even go as far as to call it love at first sight. And, you had thought she had felt the same way with her sweet words and burning touches. But, then doubt had become to creep into the dark crevices of your relationship with the woman.

It was often her daughters teased you, complaining about how they couldn’t stand to hear the beat of your heart. But, their mother had explicitly forbidden them from touching you. Though, you did not feel unsafe around them and had grown to trust and like each of them. But, their words tended to hurt whenever they referred to you as their mother’s play-thing. It was as if there was a timer on your life and it wouldn’t be long till Alcina grew bored of your presence and decided it was your time to join the dead.

“The day has come and gone and you have yet to leave our bedroom,” the regal voice belonging to Alcina echoed throughout the room, startling you at your spot in the window sill. She stood tall with her golden eyes watching your every move, making you hold your breath as you waited for her to speak. With long strides, she quickly reached the window as she looked down at you with an unreadable expression. Regardless of your height, you always dwarfed in comparison to her as she stood taller than most she came across. But, she looked even taller whilst you sat. She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. When she pulled back, her gaze met yours. “Has something happened?”

“No,” the word quickly left your lips as your felt your cheeks burn at the sudden closeness. Her scent of her old vintage lavender perfume with hints of blood filled your nose ━━ the old mixture had become a comfort for you. With a clear of your throat, you continued to speak. “Everything is fine.”

A hum left her red lips, seemingly vibrating every sense of your being. With two fingers, she trailed against your jaw as she continued to stare at your parted lips. “You should know better than to lie to me, my darling.”

“I do not wish to bother you with my human problems,” you muttered bitterly, pushing her fingers off your skin. For a moment, her eyes flashed with an unknown emotion but she did not utter a word as she took a step back to create space between the two of you.

“So, something has happened,” Alcina commented, standing to her feet as she towered over you again. It made you feel small in every sense as a wave of tears made their presence known. Hiding them from her was futile as she continued to watch, making you sniffle as you tried to wipe them away. “Tell me, who has hurt you?”

“No one.” It wasn’t like you to throw her daughters underneath the bus because of some harsh words. After all, you needed to be stronger than that.

Her hand reached forward, wiping away the stray tear with her thumb before she caressed your cheek. It took everything in you to not lean into her touch, refusing to place a kiss against her tender skin. Despite your lack of reaction, Alcina moved closer as she took a seat on the window sill. It was difficult due to her size, but she made it work as she continued to run her thumb against your cheek. “Then, why the tears?”

She waited for you to speak, listening to the shaky breaths that left your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I’ve been having doubts,” you confessed, biting the inside of your cheek as you met the woman’s eyes. “About… us.”

“What do you doubt about us?” She asked softly. And, for the first time, you could hear worry in her tone as she slowed her movements. Her sharp gaze had softened, lingering on your saddened expression.

With a deep breath, you took her hand off your cheek as you held it close. Her hands were larger than an average person’s, but you still fit perfectly in them. “I fear that you do not love me the way that I love you,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on your interlocked hands. “I feel as if I am something that you use to pass the time. Someone to warm your bed at night for the time being before you get bored and move to the next.”

“People say I’m heartless,” she started off slowly, taking your words deep into her heart as her gaze flickering to your hands as well. “They call me a monster ━━ a frightening legend that mothers tell their misbehaving children. And, for a long time, I believed in those legends that painted me as a cruel vicious beast. That is, until I met you, my darling.”

Her words made you look up, daring to meet her eyes as she stared at you unblinking. Her beauty had always taken your breath away, making her perfect to you at anything that matters. Still, you remained quiet.

“Perhaps, I did not love you at first,” Alcina confessed, ever so slightly tightening her grip on your hand as she let out a heavy sigh. “But, you came into my life like a storm and I had learned how to dance in the rain. Regardless of what you think, my love for you is true. My darling, you make me feel whole ━━ the missing piece I had unknowingly been searching for.”

“Do you really mean that?” you asked softly, barely finding your voice as you faced the woman. Her words were like honey, dripping sweetness onto your tongue as you tried your hardest to believe her.

Her free hand caressed your cheek, moving closer to you before she left a chaste kiss against your forehead. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No, but…”

“Cease your doubts, my love,” Alcina said, staying inches away from your lips as her breath fanned against your cheeks. She whispered your name, letting out a deep sigh as she took in your scent. “What can I do to convince you that my love for you is true? To convince you that I want to spend the rest of our days together? To convince you that my heart yearns for you and only you?”

"Alcina…” you whispered softly, closing your eyes as her lips hovered over the skin of your neck. She didn’t move, waiting for some indication from you. “I love you more than anything in this world and… I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. If you would have me, that is.”

The soft words caused Alcina to open her eyes as she faced you, showing no emotion as usual. It made it hard for you to predict her next move as you waited for her to say anything. But, then a soft smile presented itself to you as she leaned in close. “Of course I would have you, my darling,” she whispered, meeting your eyes. “I would do anything for you.”

Her words brought a smile to your lips, pushing you forward as you engulfed her lips with your own. She was quick to pull you into her lap as she held you close, kissing back with the same intensity that you gave her. It made you feel warm with her love as any doubts you had begun to vanish as she held you. There was no doubt that Alcina Dimitrescu was hopelessly in love with you as you were with her. Yet, the sweet moment had ended too soon.

There was a knock at the door, causing a deep growl to leave Alcina’s lips as she pulled away from yours. It left you breathless as the two of you looked to the door to see Cassandra. She wore a sadistic grin, moving deeper into the room as she regarded the two of you. “Forgive me for interrupting,” she cooed, stealing a glance at your flushed expression with playful vice. “But, he’s back.”

A frown marred your features, causing you to glance back at Alcina and see the irritation blooming. “Who is back?”

With a sigh, Alcina looked to you as she forced a smile to her lips. She moved forward, leaving a chaste kiss against your lips that had become stained the same color as hers. “Only a nuisance that you needn’t worry about,” she whispered softly, moving to stand to her feet. “I shall be back soon, my love.”

At her words, you smiled. “I will be here waiting for your return.”

[donaweasley]

Their Little Secret

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Plot: This can be read as a sequel to What If or even as a solo.

The reader and Loki have been best friends for long, but eventually realised that it was more than just friendship. As they secretly step into a new world, the entire team, unbeknownst to it all, makes it their mission to make the love birds realise and confess what they feel for each other.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst in relationship, a happy ending! Oh! And late-night hazards and a long read. Sorry!

Read time: ~26 mins

“(Y/N), could you please take a look at this once?”

Loki waltzed in through (Y/N)’s door with a file in his hand. She was reading a book, when he knocked.

“It’s pretty late. I thought you said you’d go straight to bed. What are you doing with this poor old piece of rat-food now?”

“I did. But then I couldn’t sleep. So...I thought of doing something boring enough to lull me to sleep. But this old file actually turned out to be quite interesting,” he explained animatedly. “I just couldn’t understand one part. So, here I am!”

She eyed him suspiciously as he spread his arms to accentuate his royal presence.

“That, or you wanted to see me, and this file is a flimsy excuse,” she drawled.

“Come on, darling! I’m fond of you but not to the extent that I’ll have to make lame excuses to see you. Besides, why would I need to lie to you?”

After taking a moment to consider his words, she stepped beside him and asked him to show the file.

“It is here - this part,” he pointed at a chunk of printed information.

“This one is…” She pondered aloud. “That doesn’t make sense! Loki, w-where did you get this from? That doesn’t look like any mission report or anything. It looks like...an excerpt...from...a book?”

Before she could register, a kiss landed on her cheek. It was immediately followed by Loki excitedly wishing her, “Goodnight, darling,” and vanishing into a green glow.

She stood stunned for a while. Gradually, the tingling sensation where Loki’s lips had caressed her skin began to spread like wildfire through her face, and soon she was blushing and smiling like an idiot.

“Idiot!” She cursed him as she flopped back on the bed.

After a few seconds of fiddling with the bookmark, and staring at blurred lines on the page, she closed the book, and decided to call it a night. After what Loki just did, nothing else could compare to a happier ending to the day.

As she closed her eyes, sunny memories started flooding her mind.

It had all started hardly two months ago, when they were having their usual midnight snacks, casually talking the day’s stress away, talking nonsense - just the usual best buddy night.

But then something happened: a childish game of “what-ifs”.

It was fun, for the most part, until Loki had asked her about her intentions if she met the love of her life the next day. Already stained with painful memories of past relationships and with the hopelessness about her love life, she tried her best to evade the question. But Loki, being Loki, kept proding her until she gave him a genuine reason for her frustration.

And everything changed after that. Because in trying to save the other from falling down the emotional cliff, they had saved each other. They had found each other.

She laughed softly as she remembered the hesitancy in both their hearts as they had crossed the threshold of friendship.

That was the first time that she had kissed him. On the cheek. And that was even before she had fully realised that her feelings for him were no longer platonic.

That was the first time Loki had put an arm around her and pulled her close to him.

Another giggle escaped her as she remembered the moment when the soft morning light, and a stiff back had awakened her from her sleep.

Both were still sitting in almost the same position as they had been when they were chatting.

She had found herself cocooned in the arms of Loki, her legs tangled with his, both of them safe under the thin blanket that Loki had picked while preparing for their night. Her head rested on his chest, while his rested on the top of her head.

The last thing that she remembered from the previous night was them promising each other that no matter how things turned out, they’d always be beside one another. And then Loki had pulled her closer, and gently laid her head on his throbbing chest.

It was now peacefully moving up and down with his sleepy breaths. Before opening her eyes to reality, she stole a few moments to let this feeling sink in.

When she had closed her eyes the night before, there was an excitement so high in the air that Thor’s thunder would have been ashamed. It was the hammering of Loki’s heart that had eventually put her to sleep.

The morning brought a peaceful rhythm beneath her ears. It was beautiful, it was calm, it was...reassuring. She loved it more than the thrill of the past few hours.

But no matter how long she tried to soak herself in the feeling, the incidents of the night before still seemed somewhat unbelievable. How could something months long change overnight? Was it all a mirage then, cast by the treacherous night?

The darkness of the night sets the mind free to imagine anything, take any decision. But the clarity of the day brings logic to the forefront, which sometimes turns out to be good but sometimes not so good.

But...it had felt right. She took a deep breath to clear her mind. It still felt right. That was all the assurance that she needed for the moment.

As she turned in her bed, she remembered the raspy voice in which Loki had wished her a good morning.

The close proximity, the husky, sleep-laden voice, the sudden change in the air - everything made blood rush to her cheeks and ears. Loki had sleepily chuckled at her flushed state, though he was only slightly better than her in hiding his own flustered state.

Ever since, not a single day had passed when the two of them hadn’t thanked the stars.

She used to think that she loved Loki’s friendship more than anything. She was happy to be proven wrong when she experienced Loki’s courtship.

A different flower everyday, sometimes inside her room, laid carefully near her door, sometimes on her bedside table, and on some mornings, beside her pillow.

She was used to going out with her best friend Loki, but going out with her boyfriend Loki was an experience on a whole new level. Light brushes of the fingers, sometimes an arm around her shoulder, intertwining of fingers, occasional brushes of his lips on her temple, and not-very-occasional blushes that tinted both their skins.

Every day, before parting for the day, she was blessed with bear hugs from him - something that she had never expected him to be fond of.

It was the best time of her life! Almost every doubt that she had about this relationship not working out had evaporated long ago. It was - she dared to say - perfect!

Except for one small hiccup: they had to keep everything off the radar.

For one, they were still testing the waters. No matter how happy and confident they were with one another, their newfound relationship was still at its infancy, and they didn’t want to declare anything to the rest of the team right away.

Second, everybody in the compound had been teasing both (Y/N) and Loki about “getting a room” for a long time. They didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they were finally correct. Well, figuratively.

Unfortunately, the team did not know that they had already confessed their feelings to each other. And so, they were desperate to make the love birds see the truth of their emotions. The Avengers, tough and stubborn as they were, never gave up. And Loki and (Y/N) simply decided to play along.

For instance, around a month and a half ago, Tony had thrown one of his usual parties at the compound, and had brought a line of apparent suitors for (Y/N) and a host of gorgeous ladies and lads to introduce to Loki.

Though the new couple was initially confused at the unbridled attention, they eventually understood what was going on: Tony Stark had decided to use the age-old recipe of jealousy to crack either one or both of them.

It was fun, they both admitted later, to dance to the tune, and give the host a frowning face when he realised that neither were biting the bait. Instead, both seemed to be enjoying themselves flirting or dancing with their respective “baits”.

What escaped the eagle eyes of the team were the furtive looks that both (Y/N) and Loki threw at each other from time to time. It wasn’t easy to masquerade those longing glances with playful teases that two friends might share. But they had to.

Late into the night, after the party was over, Loki teleported into (Y/N)’s room. The security cameras were still a threat to their little secret.

“Hello beautiful!” Loki purred when she didn’t turn all her attention towards him as she usually did, but kept herself apparently busy in making the bed.

“Is this my consolation prize for all your flirting this evening?” She tried to keep it casual but her displeasure seeped into her tone.

“Ooh, someone sounds jealous,” he drawled.

“Speak for yourself, God!”

Loki stepped towards her, and gently caught her hand, putting a pause to her actions.

“Look at me. Please?”

She smiled as she faced him, but he could easily catch the facade.

“I know what you're trying to do. You can’t fool me, (Y/N).”

“And what is it that I’m doing?” She tried to question with the same casualness but her voice kept betraying her.

“You are trying to make it look like it didn’t affect you - me being with all those lovely people. But in reality, you are hurt, even if it is a tiny bit.”

Her smile faltered. Of course, she couldn’t fool the God of Lies!

Closing her eyes, she shook her head, “I don’t know why you’re saying this Loki. I’m perfectly fine! Why would I-”

“You and I understand each other perfectly,” Loki gently cut her off. “Or did you forget that?”

He reminded her of the one line - of the one realisation - that had triggered the tiniest thoughts of them being possibly together, if at all.

Realizing that all doors were closed for her, she tried to turn away from him, only to be stopped by the trickster.

“If it makes you feel any good,” he resumed, “it did burn me a bit, too, to watch you dance and laugh with those clowns.”

At this, she burst into laughter. Loki was glad at the change of mood, and allowed a few happy creases around his eyes as well.

“Is that true,” she asked, “or are you simply trying to make me feel better?”

He shrugged, “What do you think?”

“I’d like to believe that it’s true,” she confessed shyly.

“It is.”

“Well then,” she said after suppressing a wild grin that tried to crack its way through, “I guess that makes us even.”

“Guess so.”

“I’m sorry, Loki,” she sighed, “I lied earlier because I didn’t want to put any kind of pressure on you or anything. I mean...jealousy? That’s the first stage of obsession. And...I don’t want you to think that...”

“Hey,” Loki held both her hands in his, “your feelings for me will never suffocate me. On the contrary, they help me breathe. You have given my life a new purpose. I thought I was happy being your best friend. But this...this is even better. Never think that you’re putting any kind of pressure on me. None of those men or women out there, or anywhere for that matter, can bring me what I feel with you, for you.”

Words seemed insufficient for what she wanted to say. So, she simply nodded, and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Thank you,” she murmured into his chest.

He chuckled as he ran his hand on her head, “Being jealous actually makes you look cute.”

She unwrapped herself from him just enough to look at his face, “Says the man who just confessed being jealous himself!”

“I never said I don’t look cute,” he shrugged again.

Shaking her head and laughing, she pulled his face down, and placed a warm kiss on his cheek.

“Go now, before I punch that cute face of yours.”

“When you say ‘punch’,” Loki drawled, “do you mean…’kiss every inch of’...?”

Blushing furiously, she pushed him towards the door.

“Shut up, and just go!”

Loki laughed as he wished her a lovely night, and disappeared into his usual green glow.

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

But the Avengers were not the ones to give up.

Not many weeks later, Natasha planned an evening at one of her favourite nightclubs. While Steve, Vision and Bucky backed out of the plan, given their previous not-so-delightful interactions with the loudness and the crowd, Thor and Tony were adamant on dragging Loki with them.

“We thought you liked a little fun! Since when did you start wearing grandpa’s knickers?” Tony snorted.

“C’mon, brother, don’t embarrass me,” Thor’s voice boomed in Loki’s room. “(Y/N) has embarrassed me enough. She didn’t want to go either. Said she’d rather sleep than be tormented by the blasted noise.”

She said what? That means she’s going to stay back-

“Wait, what?” Tony turned towards Thor with a perplexed look, “She said that?”

He turned around to face Loki again, “Are you two planning something or have you both become boring?”

No, no, no! They’ll add up…

“I am not boring!” Loki declared. He decided to stay quiet on the other option that Stark had mentioned.

“Well, then join us,” Tony shrugged.

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Loki agreed.

Needless to say, his eyes went wide when he saw (Y/N) dressed up and ready for the outing when he was expecting her in her pajamas. When she silently questioned him, he immediately realised that he had been tricked.

I have to be more careful.

The team’s plan soon became obvious when, after a few rounds of shots, everyone made a beeline to the dance floor, leaving behind a string of excuses, and Loki and (Y/N) at the bar. Even through the crowd, the duo’s trained eyes could catch glimpses of their teammates shadowing them.

“Do they really think getting drunk will make us confess?” She shouted over the sound of the music.

“I’m a God,” he shouted back. “Midgardian liquor doesn’t affect me anyway.”

“Well, it affects me,” she shrugged and drained another shot down her throat, “and I love it!”

Last one.

She had started feeling dizzy. Getting wasted could be saved for another moment when she wasn’t being spied on.

A few minutes passed in silence as neither was fond of shouting to communicate. (Y/N) bobbed her head to the music while Loki eyed the mass of bodies swaying and moving with the beats.

“Would you-” Loki began but stopped midway.

While her eyes questioned him, he silently slipped from the stool, and came to stand almost behind her.

His hot breath, dipped in a faint whiff of alcohol, hit the shell of her ear as he purred, “Would you like to dance with me?”

She was rendered immobile for a while. A small corner of her mind wondered if Loki knew what he was doing to her.

I bet he knows what he’s doing.

“I’d have loved to!” She drawled. “It’s a shame there isn’t room for a waltz here, and I wouldn’t want a God like you to hop like teeangers in the crowd.”

She felt his chest brush against her back.

“I was actually hoping that you’d be up for that dance,” he pointed at a section of the crowd where bodies were gliding against each other in the most provocative ways.

Her breath hitched again. She didn’t need to turn her head to know that Loki was smirking at his achievement.

But this time, she wouldn’t squeal, she wouldn’t push him away with a timid smile. Diffidence and boldness both tugged at polar ends of her heart until boldness won the war.

Not this time. Two can play the game, darling.

“So, what’s stopping you?” Her lips almost brushed his earlobe as she tilted her head to whisper in his ear.

Where did that come from?!

Loki wasn’t prepared for this.

It was usually him who threw mildly suggestive comments which she pushed away with a shy gesture. He never expected the tables to turn so quickly.

She did not even have enough shots to get drunk yet, he noticed.

“What happened, did the cat get your silver tongue?” She smirked.

“I-I...uh...”

While Loki continued to gape at her, an inkling of panic nudged her chest.

Did I take it too far? He obviously wasn’t ready for this, but…

It all must have been another prank for him, and I…

No!

With a cackle, she sliced the apparent tension in the air. “So, finally got you, ha? Mischief!” She winked.

Turning towards the bartender, she ordered another shot.

Loki’s brain was still trying to decipher her behaviour.

Did she really mean it…? It didn’t look like a joke though…

As she focused on her drink, he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her face, but the incessant dance of light and shadows made her features almost unreadable.

“You should get back to your seat, y’know?” She told him with downcast eyes.

“What?”

“The team might notice and...they might know.”

Did her voice just...tremble?

Loki hated the place: the noise, the dim lights, the secrecy - he hated the way everything seemed to veil her from him.

“I think I’ll go find them.”

Downing another drink, she hopped off her seat, and disappeared in the crowd, leaving Loki to his thoughts.

Once they were back in the compound, Loki went straight to (Y/N)’s room. This time he did not sneak into her room using magic; he knocked on her door. This wasn’t the moment to play a game of cat and mouse. If the entire compound was prying on him, he would gladly allow them to. Well, maybe not gladly.

“Hey! Hi, Loki!”

Her smile was as bright as ever.

Was it all in my mind then?

“Are you alright?” He tried to sound calm but his anxiety turned out to be more stubborn than him.

“Yes, I am. What- Come inside first.”

She stepped aside, allowing him to stride into her room, and flump down on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he began honestly, “I thought...I thought you were upset. At the club… I thought I saw you...sad? I’m not sure. I just had this feeling that you’re probably not okay, and-”

“Loki,” she held his shoulders and gently hushed him, “I’m fine.”

Her assurance enabled him to breathe normally again.

Caressing his face, she placed a light kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you, Loki! For everything. For caring so much about me.”

“(Y/N),” he held her hand, “are you hiding something? From me?”

He didn’t miss the way she gulped before replying.

“Why would you say that?”

“Look, I’m sorry if I cross the lines sometimes. I know I tease you but those are… I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable or have hurt you.”

“You are an idiot! Do you know that? You’ve never hurt me or made me uncomfortable. Now, get these stupid thoughts out of your little brain, and give me that devilishly charming smile of yours.”

Despite all her compliments, his eyes did not light up as they usually did.

“Are you sure?” He asked her.

“Absolutely!”

“You’ll tell me if you’re upset, won’t you? Promise me.”

He took note of how she licked her lips before nodding.

Something is not right.

“Come here,” he pulled her in his arms, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “And I’m not an idiot. I am smart.”

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

The next few weeks turned out to be more and more challenging as the team was now hell-bent on getting them exposed. What made them so sure of their relationship was still a mystery to the couple.

“Are we that obvious?” (Y/N) asked Loki one day.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It is said that it shows on the faces of those in love. So, I guess...”

The words, coming from him, filled her with warmth. If that be true, and if everyone could see that they were in love only by looking at them, then she’d happily trade their secrecy for more obviousness.

But every time they came close to taking the relationship to the next level, she would find Loki backing away. Every time they had the opportunity to reveal their beautiful secret to the team, he would quickly shield both of them.

Why, Loki? Do you not want us?

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

It was a rainy evening when Tony had gathered everyone in the living room. At first (Y/N) thought that it was an urgent meeting for a new mission. But when she knew the actual reason behind it, she couldn’t prevent the snort that escaped her.

“Excuse me?” Tony pointed at her. “You got some problem, princess?”

“Truth or dare? Like, how old are we? Twelve?”

Tony spread his arms as if to silently make a point. “Since when did you start categorizing fun into ages? Ever since you started dating Rock of Ages?”

“Hey!” Loki made a tiny protest at his nickname.

“We are not dating,” (Y/N) deadpanned.

“And there goes my question,” Wanda sighed from across the room.

In response, (Y/N) simply rolled her eyes, and grumbled, “Kids!”

Once the game started, the team wasted no time in getting to the point: (Y/N) and Loki.

The first one to get attacked was Loki.

“No, no truth for you,” Sam chimed in just as Loki sucked in a breath to choose “truth”.

“He’s the God of Lies!” Sam announced, “He can easily slip away with any lie!”

“The bird’s got a point!” Tony agreed, followed by everyone else. “‘Dare’ for you!”

“This is not how it works,” Loki protested.

“Did you play this on Asgard? Thor?”

“No, we had never even heard of it until we came here,” the big brother responded.

“But-”

“Nah-ah!” Tony didn’t let him finish. “This is exactly how it is played. Who wants to give the God of Mischief a mischievous dare?”

(Y/N) wanted to protest; she wanted to tell Tony that he was bending the rules to get to them. But any word of support would further corner them both. All she could do was play along.

“Kiss (Y/N). And you know where I mean.”

Nat’s voice yanked her out of her thoughts. She watched in horror as Loki’s expressions changed from shock to anger while the entire team cheered.

“Nat!” (Y/N) jumped up from her seat, “do you even hear yourself? He’s my best friend! We can’t just...”

“Why not?” Sam questioned with a smirk. “You seemed to be enjoying it when I was asked to kiss Buck. He’s my best buddy.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bucky mumbled.

“C’mon, it’s just a game! Don’t be a spoilsport.”

Steve?? Et tu?

Rubbing her eyes, (Y/N) tried to find a way out of it. She knew well that if Loki kissed her, she’d melt into it. Everything would become obvious.

No, no, no!! This can’t be. They can’t just expose us like this. Loki would be so....

Wait, why isn’t he saying anything?

She opened her eyes to see Loki standing. His expression was unfathomable.

Oh no! Is he going to…

“This is outrageous!” Loki snapped and turned on his heels to walk out of the room.

Oh!

For reasons she did not want to explore then, (Y/N)’s heart dropped several feet. She was expecting a similar reaction from him but wasn’t hoping for it.

Quickly gravitating back to the situation in hand, she stammered an excuse or two for his behaviour, and followed his tracks to check on him.

Once both of them were out of earshot, Tony leaned towards the group, “Did we save it or kill it.”

“Looks like we killed it,” Sam sighed.

“Trust me,” Wanda smiled, “we saved it.”

“Vision? What do you think?”

“I still do not understand why you have to torment them like this. Let them come out when they want to. It’s-”

“Okay!” Tony interrupted him. “Sorry I asked! My bad!”

The door to Loki’s room was half open when (Y/N) arrived. Gingerly, she admitted herself inside.

Loki was standing at the window, with his back towards her. His head was bowed but his hands were curled into fists on both sides of his body.

“Loki?”

The name came out so softly that she couldn’t be sure if he had heard it, given that he did not move at all.

But before she could call him again, he spoke.

“I did not want this to happen,” his voice bore that particular kind of seriousness that usually preceded an unwanted or unhappy revelation.

What?

“I am sorry, (Y/N).” He turned towards her, and she realised in an instant that he wasn’t fooling around.

“What are you talking about, Loki? What did you not want to happen?”

Her chest felt tighter with every passing second.

Please, not what I’m fearing.

“This,” his hand vaguely gestured towards the hallway. “Whatever happened just now. I knew they would come down to this one day. I never wanted-”

“It’s okay,” she interjected. “I did not like that either. Although they meant no harm. It was just for fun… And I understand if you're having second thoughts. This entire thing between us was just something… y’know, a spur of the moment kind of thing. I totally understand if-"

"(Y/N)! Where is this coming from? What are you even talking about?"

She couldn’t make herself look at him, for if she did, he could clearly see the moisture pooling in her eyes. She needed to appear strong.

“Loki, you’ve always been my best friend. And I’ve loved that. You know it. And it’s okay if this new turn in our relationship does not turn out to be something that you had hoped for. It happens. It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay for me,” Loki grasped her hands. “What are you saying? Why? A-are you not happy with me? Have I done something wrong? Did I offend you in any way?”

What is he saying? I thought…

As she looked up at him, a couple of drops ran down her cheeks and on her shirt.

“(Y/N), please tell me. You had promised to tell me anything and everything that upsets you. So, tell me what happened. Why do you speak of our relationship as if it was a mistake?”

“It never was a mistake for me,” she breathed, “I thought you felt...I thought you...”

“What?”

The shaky way in which the question came out of him stung her more than any thought of Loki not wanting this relationship. It was then that she realised how badly she had hurt him.

He never wanted to leave! He always wanted me? Us?

She didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “I thought that you...didn’t want...this. Us. I-”

“Why would you even think so? Why would you bear such thoughts when I love you with every fiber of my being?”

Her head snapped up.

“You love me?” Her own voice became shaky.

“Of course, I do,” he gently placed a hand on her cheek, “always have. At first I thought it was a love for friends until that night, when I realised that I wanted to be more than just friends with you.”

More tears fell down her cheek as she rejoiced in the moment. Loki wiped them all, and placed soft kisses on each cheek.

“And all this time, I was afraid that you’re having second thoughts,” she confessed.

“And why is that?”

“Because...”

How do I say that it’s because you haven’t kissed me yet? And ran away from the one moment we had today, albeit in a not-so-comfortable situation?

“Because I haven’t kissed you yet?” Loki asked her.

Her heart beat so violently, she could have sworn that Loki could hear it. Her tongue felt too heavy to speak.

“I didn’t think you were ready,” he admitted. “That is the reason why I did not dance with you in the club either. I was teasing you, yes, but when you responded I was definitely taken aback. I wasn’t sure if it was you or the ambience talking. So…

You have always shied away from any comments that I make, and...I did not want to push anything on you.”

“Oh, Loki!”

She hugged him so hard that even the Asgardian had to take two steps back to balance himself.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she wept into his shirt. “I misunderstood your actions for… I pushed you away. I thought you weren’t ready for this relationship. I’m sorry!”

Tears of both apology and relief flooded her. He tried to sush her as he rocked her slowly from side to side.

After taking a moment to compose herself, she stood straight. Loki looked at her red-eyed, tear-stained face and tutted.

“Doesn’t suit you, darling. Show me your crazy, grinning face.”

With a chuckle, she gave him a funny face-splitting smile, making both of them laugh.

“(Y/N), I didn’t want to kiss you because of a game or under the watchful eyes of that insufferable bunch of imbeciles. But if you will allow me now, I-”

“Just stop being so polite for a change, and kiss me,” she tugged at the collars of his shirt.

Loki didn’t need to be asked twice.

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

In the hall, the Avengers were busy speculating the outcome of their little plan, when the couple in discussion walked in. Hand in hand.

“Yes, we had changed our relationship status around six months ago,” (Y/N) announced to a stunned audience.

“And yes, we kissed. Just now. And I hope you know where I mean,” Loki added before dragging his love away towards the elevator.

“What was that?” She whispered as she was being whisked away.

“What?” Loki asked innocently, although his eyes stated otherwise.

“You didn’t need to declare that we just kissed!” She laughed as the doors of the elevator closed.

He shrugged while jabbing at a button. “They wanted us to kiss anyway. So, I gave them the satisfaction of knowledge. Besides, they need to know who you belong to now.”

“Aha! Possessive?”

“No! I also made it clear who I belong to now.”

He smiled as the doors opened to the hallway that led to his room. And once again, his words had rendered her speechless.

Silver tongue!

***

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

You can read the backstory here.

And here's a song to sing along and keep the mood floating...

[dmsden]

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables - When a player can’t make it

Hullo, Gentle Readers. We’ve all been there. You’re gearing up for a game, folks are arriving, and, suddenly, the email shows up, or a phone call comes. One of your players won’t be able to make it. And you’re left with the dilemma...what do you do? I was chatting with one of my players about how I tend to handle this, and it seemed like a good thing to address with an article.

There’s no right or wrong decision as to how few players is too few. At my table, we have a general “No more than one missing player” rule. If one player can’t make it, we still play, but two players missing usually means we’re missing 1/3rd or more of our group, and I’d rather wait until we have more folks available. I’m definitely aware, however, of tables that will play no matter how many people are available. As long as you all agree, usually when you’re setting up your campaign, as to what your group’s rules will be, the answer you come up with its the right one.

If you decide to play, there are several approaches to handling the missing player. It’s probably best to have an agreed upon method from the start. Some groups prefer to have the missing PC slide into the background, a la The Gamers and Mark. The PC is still there, but they just passively follow without comment and stand there silent and still when nothing’s going on.

Because the DM usually has balanced encounters for the full party, some groups will prefer that somebody else actively play the character, at least during combat. Depending on your group’s wishes, this could be a player that the missing player designates or the DM. In my group, this is how we handle it, and I usually play the player, being very conservative with their expendable resources. Partly, this is because I enjoy imitating my players’ characters, which I *think* I do pretty well, given the chuckles I hear when I do it. I’d like to think they’re laughing with me, not at me.

If another player is going to play the character, it necessitates leaving a copy of the character with the DM, or printing it from an online source, or what have you. In a case like this, it’s incumbent on the missing player to say, “Don’t use all my spells” or “Go nuts; just keep us alive” or some other instruction so that there won’t be any hurt feelings down the road.

No matter who plays the missing PC, as a rule of thumb, I tend to try to avoid killing someone whose player isn’t there, unless the whole party would be killed. Your mileage may vary, but I would feel very bad having to tell someone that their beloved character was killed while they weren’t playing. That just seems icky. I don’t let the other players send that character first into danger unless that’s something the character would normally do. Of course, I also don’t generally play with the kind of people who would send a missing player’s character into danger.

I have heard of some interesting campaigns where a missing PC simply...isn’t there. They vanish, or become like ghosts, or just wander off on their own side-quests. I think something like this would need to be baked into a campaign from the beginning, otherwise it might feel strange and jarring.

If you have enough advance notice, and you know you’re going to be short enough players to cancel, you can make a decision what to do instead. Maybe you can play a board game or watch a movie together. Or you can pull out a game like Microscope or Alice Is Missing that can be played in a single evening. It’s nice to keep the camaraderie that otherwise might’ve been missing from the evening.

I hope this article is helpful to folks. If you have an alternative method to handle missing players, I’d love to hear about it. Until next time, may the Eye of Vecna be blinded to you.

[fweasleyswhore]

Commitments - Smut

pairing: Oliver Wood, Fred Weasley, George Weasley x fem!reader (no incest just sharing)

a/n: I would like to do a pt 2 to this because I just have so much more I can fit into this dynamic and I like it (hornhee disease really takin over)

word count : 4.9k

warning: smut, 18+ themes, face fucking (male recieving), oral and fingering (female recieving), unprotexted sex -wrap before you tap kids-, choking, dom/sub themes, slight bdsm themes, subby reader, titles are given, its pure filth, friends with benefits relationship

mature readers only, this has heavier themes in it and i only want people who are completely ok with those themes reading

My head pounded and my stomach growled. It was the first feeling I registered as I opened my eyes. I was cold, hungry, and in pain. I blinked a few times, pulling my head up from its position on the table where I had been napping. I focussed my eyes on my unfinished potions essay. Groaning I rubbed my eyes. Not only did I not finish it, but I also fell asleep. It was due in two days and I had barely started. I still needed to-

Quidditch Practice. The potions essay fell to the depths of my mind as I scoured the library walls for a clock. Unsuccessful in finding one, I decided I was probably only late. Shoving my papers into my bag I ran out of the library, ignoring wandering stares from students I made my way to the changing rooms.

The door flung open and slowed down for the first time, panting slightly I made it over to the lockers, ready to get out my equipment. I picked up my shaky hands to do the combination when a voice interrupted me.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Oliver spoke. Based on the volume of his voice and the slight temperature change in the air, he was right behind me. Pulling my bottom lip between my lip I turned around, his toned chest was dripping, a towel hung low on his hips and his hair was ruffled slightly and damp. Our bodies were merely inches apart and I could see the anger in his eyes as I looked up at him.

 “Ollie…” I tried but my nickname for him only caused an annoyed look to grace his features.

“Don’t,” His voice was stern and it made me feel cold. “You knew how important practice was today but you skipped anyway. We play Slytherin in two days! Where were you? Giving our play strategies to Adrian Pucey probably.” He rolled his eyes and walked next to me. He turned his attention to his locker, presumably to get clothes as I was left there with my mouth feeling dry and a ball of guilt in my stomach replacing my hunger.

“I fell asleep in the library, I don’t have an excuse,” I spoke truthfully and watched my hands as I spoke afraid to meet his gaze. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I dozed off. I really am sorry.”

He sighed and I wished at that moment I could crawl inside myself and disappear. “L/N, I don’t play favorites, you know this, but you are an essential part of this team. In this practice, we were working in groups, Fred George and I practically sat there the entire time because you were missing from our group. The other chasers were running well-needed drills and we had devised a strategic plan that would push not only you but the three of us too and you weren’t there. Today’s practice was a waste of time for us.” His words hurt me, they were filled with anger and it wasn’t a feeling he had ever directed at me.

“Ollie I truly am so sorry. I know this and I wish there was anything I could do to make it up to you. I know how stressed you are about the game, I just, I’m so sorry.” I finally looked up and he was facing me again, his locker forgotten. He was close to me again, his body heaved as he breathed heavily.

“Stress relief?” He asked, causing me to furrow my brows. Before I could ask him what he meant he spoke again. “You are right, I am stressed, that’s why I’m asking if you will help me with stress relief.”

I nodded understandably. I couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to my face as I realized what he was asking for. “You want me to massage your shoulders Wood?” I asked teasingly. He let out a short breath before taking a step forward. He toward over me, our chests almost flush as his hand caressed my cheek. His touch was sending shivers down my spine and butterflies to erupt in my stomach. Oliver was a good friend of mine, I always left my lingering eyes on him for too long but never admitted my feelings for him. I wasn’t sure if they were real feelings or pure lust. Being on the quidditch team I was never sure if I liked him or seeing his half-naked body as he ran down drills.

“Not what I had in mind,” I bit my lip as the nerves began to build up. His hand trailed down my cheek and under my jaw which he grasped semi firmly, pulling my face up to his. Our lips met in a messy heated kiss. I gasped into his mouth as my hand found its way to his neck pulling him closer to me. His legs parted my own and he pushed his hips flush against mine. An unintentional moan slipped from my mouth at the contact but that didn’t stop him, if anything it fueled his motions. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, it was a short fight that he quickly won. He pulled away suddenly, my face remained in his grip, the stern hand he had on my face caused my lips to part slightly. I looked up at him, blinking my lashes and grinding my hips softly onto his leg that was positioned in between my legs.

“I want this but I need to know you do too.” His voice was usually cheery but now it was stern and low, a side of him I had never seen and god I wished I did sooner. I pushed my hips down with more force, the friction finally hitting where I need it most and I moaned.

“Godric, yes Oliver, yes, yes, yes.” His gaze was cold and his face didn’t change when I gave my answer, instead he pushed his thigh harder into me, adding pressure I didn’t know I needed. “Fuck.” I whimpered shutting my eyes.

“Tsk, Tsk,” He tutted, pulling my eyes open I looked up at him. “If you continue to have a dirty mouth like that I’ll fill it up. Understood?” Growing wetter at his words I nodded feverishly. “Words darling.” He pushed his thigh into me harder. I let out a short breath, trying to compose myself.

“Y-Yes Sir.”

“Good girl. Keep being good maybe I will forget about the punishment I had planned for your absence.” I let out a whimper at his praise, the promise of punishment striking my core, had he thought of this before? He smirked down at me as I began to rut my hips against his thigh. Occasionally he would pull his leg back causing me to whine only to push it back with more force than before causing my legs to lose feeling as the pleasure built up. We were so wrapped up in our display we didn’t hear the two prominent footsteps grow closer until they were right next to us.

“Bloody hell.” Geroge’s voice interrupted. I opened my eyes and pulled Oliver against me to shield myself, in doing so I could feel the prominent bulge that formed under his not so restraining towel. “We heard Y/N came to the locker room and Fred and I were half sure you were killing her, not…” He trailed off and I watched as his eyes looked me up and down, my hair was no doubt a mess and Oliver’s leg was still in between mine applying a wonderful but also horrible pressure to my clit.

“Glad you’re not dead Y/N, but if getting off is what you wanted you could have always just come to my dorm,” Fred spoke from beside George. Leaning against the other row of lockers he looked significantly more comfortable than George, his trademark smirk plastered his face and his eyes kept flickering to where Oliver’s leg was positioned. I grew hot at his words as I looked between the twins. My eyes flickered up to Oliver who was giving both boys, especially Fred, a hard glare. Before I could protest Oliver’s hand found my hip and he pushed my hips into his thigh, pulling me forward into a rocking motion. I reacted by throwing my head back and letting out a moan, the feeling was too good to hide it. I didn’t let myself get too lost in the pleasure as I remembered our audience. Pulling my head back I eyed the boys with half-lidded eyes. Oliver was still guiding my hips against his thigh, his eyes were trained on my face as I whimpered trying to blink and focus on what was happening, my brain was fighting not wanting to stop but also worried about Fred and George’s presence.

Fred’s eyes were wide and hungry, he was still leaning against the lockers but his eyes were trained on the way my body moved. George was too watching, he took his brother’s stance, leaning on the lockers next to me. I could see two significant tents forming in both of their trousers, George’s hand slid into his pocket and he silently palmed himself at my display.

Seeing that they were enjoying themselves I let my worries dissipate, throwing my head back I moved my hips in time with Oliver’s guiding hands. Oliver ducked his head and began sucking on my neck. Rutting my hips faster I became more vocal, Fred and George let out small grunts here and there that I assume was due to their hands work which only egged on my ministrations. Soon enough the feeling became too overwhelming to bear, my legs began to shake and my breathing was becoming labored. “Ollie please, I need to-” My words were cut short as Oliver harshly nipped at my neck causing me to gasp.

“That’s not my name.” He whispered in my ear. I felt his arms stop their guidance slowing me down.

“Please Sir, please let me cum.” I begged submissively, not worried about the whine in my voice but rather the orgasm that was so close which was starting to vanish.

His hands grasped my hips with a different purpose now and he brought me back to the same speed that had me whimpering and moaning a few seconds ago.

“What do you think guys? Shall we let Y/N cum? Has she earned it?” I snapped my eyes open looking between the three boys frantically, letting out whines as Oliver applied more pressure with his thigh.

“I’m not sure she has,” Fred spoke up, he had a drunken look of hunger that made me shiver.

“I don’t think so.” George agreed.

“What a shame,” Oliver said looking down at me. “Guess you have to wait, darling.” With those few words, he held my hips firm and removed his thigh from me. I wouldn’t be surprised if his thigh had gotten wet through my trousers but I was too upset to be concerned with that at the moment. I whined lightly at the loss of contact and tried to stabilize my shaky legs.

“How can I earn it?” I looked between the boys who all adorned with wide grins. When I got no response I decided to push a little. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just get myself off.” All three boys lost their grins, not completely but their eyes went dark at my words, and they stood up straighter, they watched my hands as they trailed down to my trousers, popping the button.

“Brats don’t get rewards,” George said softly from next to me. His hand grasped mine and halted my motions, his grip was iron tight as he looked down at me. I angled my body so I was facing him, with my free hand I cupped him through his trousers.

“Then tell me what to do, sir.” I looked up at him with the most innocent face I could muster, cocking my head to the side slightly. I’m sure the markings on my neck from Oliver ruined the innocent facade a little bit but watching George swallow hard and breathe heavily through his nose was enough to tell me it was working.

“On your knees, now.” His voice was firm and it sent shivers down my spine as I sunk to my knees. My face was level with George’s clothed cock, I placed my hands behind my back and looked up at him waiting for permission. He brought his hand down, pulling my head up from my chin, he swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

I smiled at the name, undoing his pants with ease I heard a slight groan as I pulled them down freeing his erection a bit. He was big, much bigger than I’ve had before. I tried to swallow my nerves as I pulled him out and stroked him slowly. I wrapped my lips around his tip, circling the tip with my tongue that elicited a moan from above me. I smiled and began to take him, or as much as I could. He hit the back of my throat before I got to his base, I gagged lightly and began to bob my head, stroking what was left with my hand. I felt a foreign hand in my hair, straining my eyes I looked up to see Oliver pulling some strands of my hair back. I rubbed my thighs together my arousal building to extreme heights.

“Fuck,” George moaned. He pulled out enough so his tip rested against my lips. “Do you think you can take all of me?” I stroked him slowly as I thought to myself.

“Will it get me my reward,” I asked in a sweet tone. He opened his mouth to reply so I kitten licked his tip, twisting my wrist as I continued to pump him. His words were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as he hissed.

“Definitely, and if you stop being a brat it will probably get you two.” I smiled at his response and pulled back my hand, opting to rest both of them on my thighs. Opening my mouth I relaxed my jaw and stuck my tongue out. George took his dick and slapped my tongue with it a few times.

“Such a good girl, so ready for me aren’t you, whore?” He asked with a devilish smirk. I nodded and let out a small involuntary whine at his words.

“Such a little slut, you’re gonna let him use you like that?” Fred asked. He walked over, his dick now free from its restraints he pumped it slowly. He ran his fingers through my hair, grabbing it tightly and pulling my head back to face him, his harshness made me whine and I squeezed my thighs together, growing wetter. “You like this don’t you? Such a dirty girl.” He let go of my hair and my head fell forward, George’s dick slapping my cheek lightly in the process.

“Our dirty girl.” Oliver praised smoothing my hair. I smiled before opening my mouth again, making eye contact with George to let him know I was ready. He smiled and slid in slowly, I wrapped my mouth around him and tried to maintain my composure as he began to slide down my throat. I gagged lightly which caused him to groan and go deeper. I breathed out through my nose as my eyes began to well up, I closed them and focussed on keeping my throat open for him.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my thigh, opening my eyes, blinking some tears away. I could make out Fred smiling as he kneeled next to me. I shut my eyes spreading my legs for him. He dipped his hand into my trousers tracing my lips from outside my panties. I moaned at the contact around George making him groan.

“You’re getting off on this aren’t you, completely soaked for us,” Fred whispered in my ear pushing my panties to the side. I moaned again which caused George to pick up his pace. I was gagging and tears were streaming down my face but I was enjoying it so much. Fred circled my clit with his nimble fingers making me gag and moan more but I didn’t care. George’s thrusts were becoming erratic and I knew he would come soon. Purposely swallowing around him caused him to meet his end. He buried his dick inside of my throat, my nose pressed up against his abdomen I moaned, swallowing his cum that shot down my throat. He pulled out of me, a trail of spit followed connecting us until it broke, slapping against my chin. Panting, I gasped for air and leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder. Fred picked his speed up on my clit causing me to yell out his name. He continued his brutal pace and I felt my orgasm catching up to me yet again.

“Please, George,” My words were cut off by a moan and I jerked my head back. “Please I’m going to cum I need your permission.” Fred was chuckling in my ear from my desperation but I couldn’t care right now. My legs were shaking and my abdomen was cramping up as I continued to fight it off.

George knelt in front of me, grabbing my neck with a strong hand he pulled my head forward. I fought against my body to open my eyes and look at him. “Cum for us, cum like the whore you are.” As he spoke he increased the pressure on my neck. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm washed over me, I shook violently, screaming out I felt myself release. Fred didn’t stop his fingers, they continued his brutal pace and his smirk grew as I began to shake from overstimulation.

“Good whore.” Fred whispered pulling his hand away from my core. I leaned back against Oliver’s leg and watched as Fred sucked his fingers clean. Oliver looked down at me with his dark eyes, filled with lust and hunger. Fred linked his arm around my waist and pulled me up. We walked over to a bench at the end of the row of lockers, he laid me down on my back. I giggled to myself watching him struggle to pull my trousers off. My laughter was cut short as he landed a short slap to my bare pussy, I moaned at the harsh contact.

“Don’t be a brat.” He warned and I nodded. I pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra. Fred inserted a finger inside of me, slowly he began to pump in and out before adding another one, I moaned at the light stretch as he pumped faster, curling them to hit my G-spot.

“Such pretty moans.” George praised. He was knelt beside me and began to massage my breasts. I gasped as he began to suck on my nipple. Pulling my hands up I ran my fingers through his hair. Oliver stood on my other side, he was slowly pumping his cock at the scene below him. I felt Fred pull his fingers out and I whined at the loss. Fred spit directly onto my clit, I felt the liquid drip down and mix with my own juices.

“Spread your legs for me, darling,” I did as he said and opened my legs for him. “So pretty, princess, are you ready for me?”

“Yes, please,” I whined out. George was now attacking my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh that took my breath away. I stopped breathing completely as Fred pushed into me. Slowly he filled me to the hilt, he had to be the same size as George. I felt him bump my cervix when his hips met mine. My mouth was open in a silent scream as he let out a slow groan. He stayed there for a moment, letting me get used to the stretch that came with his impressive size. When he felt me relax he began to slowly thrust in and out of me.

“Faster, fuck, please faster.” I moaned out. He quickly obliged by setting a ruthless pace that had my brain cloudy with the pleasure I was feeling. Oliver leaned down, kissing me roughly, our teeth clashed due to my shaking from Fred’s pace but that didn’t stop either of us.

“Such a whore, putting this show on for me, is this supposed to make me forgive you?” He asked, one of his hands trailed down my torso, he left feather-light touches on my breasts.

“Y-Yes all for you.” I struggled out. He suddenly pinched my nipple, pulling it lightly causing me to moan out loudly.

“Hm, all for me? You let them down too, it’s not very kind if it’s all for me now is it?” I nodded in agreement unable to speak as Fred propped my leg onto his shoulder, the new angle intensifying the pleasure I was feeling. “What are we going to do about that then?” Oliver asked.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. I couldn’t conjure up a sentence much less a viable answer that would satisfy him as my orgasm steadily approached.

“What a shame, it looks like I will have to punish you after all.” He whispered in my ear. I moaned at his words. Fred continued to hit that spot deep inside me that sent me closer to heaven and hell at the same time.

“I need to, please, I-” My words drowned out into a moan as Fred thrust harder.

“You need to cum, slut?” Fred asked, words spaced out with his thrusts. His hair was dripping with sweat, his chest was glistening with sweat, somewhere in the process he had lost his shirt.

“Yes, yes please!” I begged.

I could hear the smirk on his face as he replied. “Cum for me princess.” My second orgasm washed over me. My legs shook and I tightened my walls, screwing my eyes shut I let out a long moan as Fred continued to pump in and out of me, riding out my orgasm. His hips began to slow and he stopped, flush against me I felt his dick twitch, shooting long ropes of cum painting my insides.

Fred’s hands rubbed up and down my thighs, soothing their shaking. He kissed my knee and unhooked my leg from his shoulder, gingerly pulling out, I whined feeling sensitive and empty at the loss. Fred walked to the side of me, replacing Oliver who was now out of sight. He kneeled beside me and stroked my hair. “You did so good.” He praised.

George hummed softly, his head rested on my stomach under my breast where he was leaving soft kisses earlier beforehand. “Such a pretty slut for us.” He added.

“She may be pretty but that’s not going to make up for what she did.” Oliver said, he was circling his hands on my thighs, his towel now long forgotten, his erection was prominent and it prodded my legs as they shook. His tip was red and needy with precum, I could only assume how much it ached.

“Hm and what did she do?” Fred asked, feigning confusion, a slight smirk on his lips. Oliver had a smile playing on his lips as his hands trailed toward my core. He started to tease my folds, rubbing around spreading the shared release between me and Fred everywhere except my throbbing clit.

“She skipped practice, you know that.” Oliver growled.

“I didn’t mean to-” I trued but Oliver suddenly slapped my pussy, the harsh contact with my clit made me moan.

“You skipped.” He said sternly. I took that as a signal to shut up so I nodded, feeling the excitement buzz in my veins. My pussy throbbed in anticipation as his fingers ghosted over my entrance and up to my clit.

“Hm, I didn’t think about that, should I have punished you princess?” Fred asked. Before I could answer George attached his lips to my nipple, he lapped it and bit it lightly causing me to gasp. He pulled off with a pop, grinning.

“I should have bent you over my knee, showed you who you belong too.” George purred, he trailed up so his breath fawned over the shell of my ear. “Would you have liked that sweetheart? Being so marked and bruised you can’t sit straight? Everytime you sit down you will be reminded of the little whore you are for us, how you bent over willingly, swallowed my cock and came on Freddies fingers. You would like that wouldn’t you?” His voice was deep and it sent shivers through me and took the air from my lungs.

“I think she likes that George.” Oliver said grinning. “Shes practically dripping.” Suddenly he inserted two fingers into me, pumping at a relentless pace. Sounds of squeltching filled the air as he began to hit that spot inside of me, over and over again. I screwed my eyes shut feeling blissed out as George nipped my ear whispering small taunts while massaging my breasts, Fred on my other side whispering praise and playing with my hair.

“You like being used don’t you?” Geroge would ask, licking the shell of my ear.

“Such a good girl, you gonna moan princess?” Fred would add, kissing my cheek.

They continued the process until I was a writhing mess. I was about to ask for permission to cum when Oliver wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue that just sent me over the edge. I came for a third time, shaking crying out, I felt a few tears fall from eyes as he didn’t slow down until I was convulsing and my eyes were rolled back in my head. Oliver pulled back and I gasped for air now that I was given a slight break. Suddenly he slammed into me, his dick stretched me in a delicious way. I yelped at the sudden contact. He didn’t give me time to adjust like Fred, instead he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back into me.

“O-Ollie.” I moaned out throwing my head back.

“What do you call me?” He growled, slapping my clit lightly and thrusting in forcefully. He halted his motions for a moment, grinding his hips into me and it felt heavenly.

“I’m sorry Sir! Please keep going!” I whined.

“Good girl.” Oliver praised pulling out an slamming back into me. He continued his relentless pace, slapping my clit and tits, pinching my nipples, occasionally leaning over to nip at my leg. I alternated between kissing Fred and George who whispered dirty things to me and swallowed the moans I left in their mouths. I felt Oliver speed up and I felt yet again that I was teetering on the edge.

“Sirs, please I need to cum,” I whined looking between all three boys. Fred and George nodded with cheeky grins and my gaze fell forward to Oliver between my legs. Oliver grabbed my hip with one hand, reaching down and grabbing my neck with the other in grip that could bruise.

“Cum then, cum on my dick slut.” Oliver grunted tightening his grip on my neck. I gave in, letting go and cumming harder than I have before. I let go, squirting onto his torso. Oliver kept pumping into me riding out my orgasm until he pulled out, cumming on my pussy, throwing white ropes on my glistening cunt. I was breathless and lightheaded, Oliver let go of my neck, my head fell back against the bench and I panted. Oliver spread my legs whistling lowly to himself.

“So pretty.” He muttered before ducking his head down and running a long stripe up my folds with his tongue. I jolted at the feeling, my body spasming as his tongue hit my clit. I felt him suck lightly and I whined. That’s when he pulled his head up, and leaned over me, his lips were in a tight line and his body caged me. He took one of his hands and placed two fingers on my chin, applying light pressure signaling for me to open my mouth. I did, sticking my tongue out as I made eye contact with him. He spat our combined juices into my mouth, some of it getting on my chin. He used his thumb to lap it up, wiping it on my tongue.

“Swallow it.” He commanded. I did as I was told, opening my mouth to show him when I was done. “Good slut.” He praised.

“Beautiful.” George added.

“Breathtaking.” Fred quipped. I felt my cheeks heat up at their praise.

“T-Thank you.” I said timidly. Oliver smiled, it was his usual soft smile that made me melt. He stood up, offering a hand I gladly took and stood with him on my shaky legs. I slipped slightly and George stood on my side grabbing my hip. I felt Fred’s gentle hand on my back offering his support should I need it.

They cleaned me up, offering support and praise every second of the way. The game with Slytherin went well, Gyrffimdor won by a landslide, and once again we found ourselves in the locker room together celebrating.

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Art credit: @monstrouslyobsessed!

I've been reading a lot of yandere creepypasta stories as of late and I wanted to write one of my own! Hope you guys liked it!

『 There's no place like home. 』

Moving to a new town was challenging on its own, but to constantly look over your shoulder was a mission completely. Ever since you moved you couldn't help but to feel like someone was just watching you, lurking on and about in the dark shadows as you did the most mundane activities, washing, cleaning your new house, just living life. Your life was normal to say the least, you would even call your life boring. You thought that moving to this little town would spice up your life a little and you hoped to maybe even make a friend.

You had no idea just how right you truly you were.

The people talked and whispered about a urban legend of sorts. On your college campus way back when, a student named Jack was brutally killed and was left in the nearby woods to rot and die alone, the poor soul. No one was sure if the killing actually took place or not but the legend stayed none the less. The townsfolk called him "Eyeless Jack" and parents often used him as a sort of bogeyman figure to scare their kids from doing something stupid. "Don't stay out too late!", "Don't go running off too deep into the woods!" the people would scold. You found the stories amusing but just a tad bit excessive at times. I mean, who wouldn't be afraid of a cannibalistic killer?

Regardleds, life went on. Your college classes were in full swing, your social life was improving, everything was just great. You didn't even notice the small trinkets being left in your house, or that some of your own things had vanished out of the blue. Sometimes when you were studying you could have sworn that you saw a passing shadow near your window, it's presence not quite menacing but not assuring either. You chalked it up to a simple trick of the light, or maybe it was just your brain messing with you due to the stresa from exams. The human mind is such a fickle and odd thing, is it not?

He would know. But, he's not so sure about the human part, at least, not with himself.

The killer switched towns for a while and kept a low profile for a period of time. He had gotten hasty over the past few years, which almost got him caught on several occasions. Jack was not someone to make such mistakes to begin with but then again, the drugs he'd use on his victims was a bit weaker then he'd liked it to be.

Funny enough, you were a target at first too. Jack watched you and studied your day to day life simply out of a morbid and sick curiosity. If he was in the mood to do so, spooking his victims and keeping them on their toes was always a fun little game to keep him busy.

You were his favorite plaything thus far.

So sweet, so unaware, so new. The perfect target. Jack would lick his lips in anticipation, already wondering how would your crimson blood taste like on his cold lips. He was a true monster indeed. Perhaps, that was why he found you so fascinating to begin with. You were everything he was not. You were just so pretty, sitting on the front porch, all alone. It was almost as though you were inviting him inside... That however, could wait. He needed to be sure, he needed more information, so why rush things? Patience is a virtue, as many people liked to say.

For now, Jack would let you enjoy your life, your school, your brand new home...

Tags: @vani-ya, @yandere-wishes

[anonymousfiction211]

Surrender

Summary: You and Loki are in a constant power struggle, even in the bedroom. Word count: 1.695 Warning: Smut

Loki, being a prince, was used to people who served him and did as he wished. He was slightly addicted to power. As a prince there were always girls who threw themselves at him. Girls who were so willing to sleep with him, with just a snap of his finger. You however, never were one of those girls. You never just agreed with him, let him win when you played board games or tried to please him. Whenever Loki used his silver tongue to persuade you to do something, you always knew what to say back.

That was one of the reasons Loki liked you so much. He needed you chase you, convince you, you were a challenge to him. It was a power game the two of you were playing for a while. And you both loved every minute of it. It didn’t take long before Loki started to court you. Since you were getting to know each other better, things became more physical. You started to tease each other more, especially in public places. When Loki asked if you would play a game in his bedroom you knew exactly where this was going. You were playing a board game while you sat on his lap. You started to wiggle in his lap, making him hard. He was stroking your thighs, pretending he didn’t notice it turned you on. It didn’t take long before the two of you were kissing. You walked towards his bed, but there was a problem. You both were tyring to dominate the other person.

‘Darling, I know you enjoy the upper hand. But that is not going to happen in bed. So, be a good girl and kneel before your prince’ he purred while he smirked at you. He saw the look in your eyes, fire. He knew how much you hated when he reminded you that as a prince, he was above you. ‘Honey, I think you have me mistaken for one of your boring slutty girls who used to throw themselves at you. Don’t make that mistake again, just lie down on the bed for me’ you said, while giving him a smirk. There was a long silence. Neither of you looked away from the other, determined to win.

Loki looked at you mischievously and waved his hand. With a green shimmer your clothes were gone. You were annoyed and turned on at the same time. His eyes started to wander over your body, and he licked his lips in anticipation. You quickly stepped forward and pressed your lips against his. He had not expected you to do that and let out a small gasp. You used that to your advantaged and slid your tongue in his mouth. He grabbed your neck to deepen the kiss and get back some control. While you were kissing passionately you started to unbuckle his pants. They fell on the floor and you started to stroke his hardened cock. This made him moan. With one hand still holding your neck his other hand started to stroke your breast. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. His hand left your neck and he bent down a little. You felt his cock sliding out of your hand. He took one of your breasts in his mouth, circling your nipple with his tongue and slightly biting in your flesh. With one hand he was pinching your other nipple. You were getting wetter and your pussy was now throbbing for attention. You knew you had to switch tactics, if you wanted to win this game.

‘Fine, I’ll kneel if you remove your shirt’ you sighed. Loki stood up straight and looked surprised at you. He hadn’t expected that you would give up so easily. He took off his shirt and you knelt before him. You began stroking his thighs and sliding your tong all over his cock. You started to tease the tip of his cock by slowly drawing circles with your tongue. This made Loki growl in frustration. He grabbed your hair, pulling you from your feet. ‘On the bed, now!’ he said with such a low voice, it made you shiver. He didn’t wait for a reaction and pushed you on the bed. He immediately crawled on top of you, starting to kiss you roughly. You let him, if he thought you had surrendered to him, he would let his guard down. Your hands roamed his body and he responded by stroking your clit in an extremely slow pace. He was going to give you the same frustrated treatment, you had given him.

You became a moaning mess, desperately for release. Loki started to chuckle ‘My, my, I am almost disappointed you did not put up more of a fight’. You tried to ignore him thinking of a way to get the upper hand again. He puts his lips to your ear and whispered seductively ‘Beg me to come, pet’. He looked you in your eyes and saw the anger when he said the nickname. You suddenly hooked one of your legs behind his knee and rolled the two of you over. You heard Loki grunt and you grabbed his arms to hold them in place next to his head. He glared at you, but you saw a twinkle in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this game. You moved closer to sit on his face and forcefully grabbed his hair. ‘Try to make me come if you can, pet’ you quipped back to him. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue out to meet your clit. While he was licking and sucking you started to hum ‘Hmm.. silver tongue indeed’. You slowly started to ride his face, feeling your orgasm build up. Loki started to moan, the tingling sensation send you over the edge and you came undone.

He worked you through your high and you positioned yourself to straddle his lap. You felt his hardened cock twitch, so you started to rock your hips forwards and backwards. ‘Since you were such a good boy, I might even consider you to come as well. Beg me for it’ you purred. Loki put his arms behind his head and started to laugh. ‘Oh kitten, you are indeed wild. Let’s see how many times you need to come before you finally surrender, shall we?’ he said. You stopped and looked confused at him, when you suddenly felt two hands grab you from behind. They lifted you up and put you down on Loki’s cock. You let out a load moan when you felt his cock filling every inch of you. You looked back to see one of his naked clones grinning behind you. You looked back at the Loki in front of you, who was smirking. ‘This is not fair’ you said, trying to ignore the two clone hands starting to roam your body. When they moved to your clit you wanted to get away, but the clone grabbed your throat holding your upper body firm against his. It became harder for you to breath. The finger on your clit was going slowly. ‘I’m the God of Mischief darling, I don’t have to play fair’ Loki grinned to you. You glared at him. The clone was moving his fingers faster and you felt yourself clench around Loki’s cock. ‘That’s it, now be a good little kitten and come for me’ he said. You came hard on his cock, while trying to fight of the hands of his clone.

‘Isn’t it so much easier to just surrender yourself to me?’ he smirked. You were thinking of a way out of this situation, but Loki started to move his hips up and down in a very slow pace. You instinctively rocked your hips trying to increase the pace. It did not work. You wanted to bend down and kiss him, but his clone still had you pressed against him. His fingers were still circling your sensitive clit and his hand on your necked had travelled down to play with your breasts. You heard yourself gasping for air, while you were still struggling to get out of his grip. The real Loki laughed at you, almost sadistically. ‘Such a pretty girl, and all mine’ he purred. Your next orgasm hit you fast, and you came screaming his name. You were feeling tired, sore, and sensitive. Loki still had not reached his high and was now pumping in and out of you faster. The clone was adding more and more pressure on your clit and you came again. Every time you came Loki would growl and start to pump faster. He never broke his intense eye contact with you. You were seeing stars and did not know how many orgasms you have had, or if you never came down from your high. Loki was relentless and didn’t give you any time to recover from your orgasm.

As he was pumping faster and faster you knew he had to be close. The clone behind you vanished and you fell forwards on his chest. You were a panting moaning mess. He grabbed your hair to pull your face closer for a passionate kiss. He gave you a devilish smile ‘Now, do you finally surrender?’ You didn’t answer him, you didn’t want him to win. ‘tsk.. darling you are only making this harder for yourself. Last change, do you surrender, or should I conjure up another clone?’. You were breathing heavily. The thought of going through all that again, you just could not. ‘Yes, I surrender’ you said softly. Loki came inside you, right after you said the words. He pumped in and out of you a few more times before pulling out completely.

You laid on your back trying to catch your breath. Loki left you to clean the both of you. When he came to lay next to you, he pulled you into a tight embrace.‘Guess I lost this time’ you giggled. He chuckled ‘Well.. I had to cheat a little darling, you really are quite a challenge’. He kissed the top of your head and you fell asleep in his arms.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the story. I recently started to write Loki fics (mostly smut). I never have writtin anything before that. Also, English isn’t my first language. So if you have any tips or tricks, let me know :)

[startanewdream]

I would love a number 3 Jily from the kissing prompt list.

Also sorry I ordered this like I'm at a fast food restaurant 😂

Hiiii! Considering how long it took me to answer it, it was not fast at all!

Thanks for this prompt! I thought a lot how to fill the idea of a Jily enemies-to-lovers kiss because I thought by the time they shared kisses they would be a lot more friends... then I messed a bit with canon and found this way. Hope you enjoyed it!

Set during their Fifth Year.

Read on AO3 or below:

Seven minutes in heaven

Sirius holds his chin languidly as he considers Peter’s question.

‘Three,’ is his answer, unashamed and not pretentious in a way that James can’t help but feel jealous.

Three .

Sirius kissed three people already and James has never kissed anyone.

It shouldn’t be a competition, because he doesn’t compete with Sirius — for most of the things they are equal, their grades always so close that for a while the professors thought they had to be cheating in exams.

But Sirius kissed three people and he doesn’t even notice all the stares he gets. It doesn’t seem fair.

I’m better than him at Quidditch , James tries to tell himself, but somehow this thought doesn’t bring him any satisfaction. While he was scoring goals, Sirius was scoring something else and though it’s not a competition he can’t help but think he is losing .

The bottle spins again and again and James eyes it with uneasiness. He will pick dare if the bottle points at him, because he always chooses dare on principle, but this time he knows he just doesn’t want anyone to ask how many people he has kissed before.

But the bottle stops at Lily Evans, who watches carefully the person at the other end before saying: ‘Dare.’

Mary grins mischievously. ‘I dare you to tell me who is the most gorgeous bloke in our year.’

James almost rolls his eyes at that, because everyone always says it’s Sirius so it’s not even an interesting question; but to his surprise, Evans just shakes her head, looking flustered.

‘No, that’s against the rules. You can’t ask a question in a dare.’

‘You are no fun, Lily,’ Mary answers, and James feels like this is some inside joke between them; he wonders what's the discussion about who Evans thinks it's gorgeous. ‘Fine, I dare you to try seven minutes in heaven.’

‘You can’t involve anyone else in a dare —’

‘I am not choosing anyone now . You’ll wait there until the next dare.’

Evans seems to consider this before she nods, grimacing, obviously not happy. The rest just watches Evans and Mary; they were the ones that came with that muggle game for animating that chilly October Friday night, and they are the ones that decide the rules.

‘If you are picked, I’ll be spending those seven minutes turning your life into hell,’ Evans warns Mary, her voice amiably, and James almost smiles. Sometimes Evans is funny. ‘The first broom closet to the right, okay?’

Mary nods.

‘What’s seven minutes in hell?,’ Remus asks, curious, watching Evans leaving the Common Room. James feels a little impressed; there are only fifteen minutes until curfew, and for good-girl Lily Evans to risk a detention, she must really take the game seriously.

‘In heaven,’ Mary corrects, grinning. ‘It’s a dare where two people spend seven minutes together in a room. Or in this case, the first broom closet to the right leaving the Common Room.’

‘And what do people do then?’

‘You’ll see if you pick dare,’ Mary answers genially. She indicates the bottle to Remus. ‘Spin it?’

Remus does, but now he is blushing. James looks around; Sirius doesn’t look particularly excited, but Peter has the flushed expression on his face, a little dreamy, and James knows he is far away. Or rather his thoughts are in the broom closet next to the Common Room.

Seven minutes in heaven with Evans ? James tries to imagine it, but he can’t, not really. It wouldn’t be heaven ; she would fulfill her promise of making it a hell, because he and Evans don’t really get along. She gets annoyed with every little thing he and his friends do, never cracking a smile and, most of all, always sticking with her annoying Slytherin friend. Snivellus . There is no way that seven minutes with Evans could ever be fun…

‘James?’

He blinks, coming back to reality. Sirius is looking at him with an innocent expression that doesn’t fit him.

‘What?’

‘I asked, truth or dare?’

‘Dare,’ answers James without thinking, because he can’t risk saying truth ( no, I have never kissed anyone, I’m a failure, ok? ), before he realizes what this means.

And then everyone is smirking at him, knowing looks on their faces that makes James want to flush, except James Potter doesn’t get embarrassed. Not in public. Not evidently. He has an image to uphold.

‘Go on, then, James,’ says Sirius, indicating the portrait. ‘I dare you to spend seven minutes with Evans. Heaven or hell, it’s up to you.’

The girls giggle, and James raises quietly, pretending it’s everyday that he gets to be in a broom closet with a girl, that this is very normal for him. He grins as smugly as he can, but the smile vanishes as soon as he turns his back to him.

Seven minutes in a broom closet with a girl . Not any girl. Lily Evans, really?

And then as he is leaving, he hears Mary’s whisper: ‘Maybe Lily will finally kiss someone, you think?’

Hmm, James considers. So Evans has never kissed anyone either?

He thinks about it; it’s not like he has paid attention to Evans so far, but he knows she has been on a date before. He may have heard something about her meeting the Hufflepuff prefect in the last Hogsmeade weekend, but that was not a thought that had bothered him.

But if he’d think about Lily Evans in a way that he had never really thought before, what would he think? Well, James is not immune to girls , not at all, but it’s just he never looked at Evans because he should feel attracted to someone who is nice to him, right? Like Emme Vance; she winked at him after the first game of the season, and he’d felt something warm inside him. If only he had not been distracted by a comment from Sirius, then he’d have gone talk to her and then his never-kiss-anyone problem would have already been fixed…

But since this is a problem he apparently shares with Evans, maybe, just maybe, they can solve it together?

It’s not a bad idea, he thinks, and when he opens the door of the broom closet, for a split second, he considers that it’s a great idea. Now he is positively considering Lily Evans as someone kissable, for the first time he really notices the thing he may already have noticed about her before, but disconsidered only because he and Evans don’t get along.

And the things is that Evans is a girl and James likes girls. And she is pretty, with her long auburn hair that falls on her shoulders, that fair skin that seems so soft, her full pink lips, and her green eyes that seem to shine under the light coming from the open door. Then his eyes fall to her chest, to the curves that weren't there in the 11-year-old Evans he remembers annoying since their First Year, and, yes, Evans is a girl and James likes girls and his body has a sudden urge to remind him of this.

He looks hastily at her eyes, hoping she didn’t notice where he was staring and trying to look nice and very kissable too; but the first words that come out of Evans’ mouth are not encouraging.

‘Oh, it’s you .’

Her contempt is nearly enough to make him regret everything he thought, but his stupid teenage body isn’t always on the same page as his mind.

He closes the door, only the dim light of the lamp above them illuminating the small closet.

‘Let me guess,’ he begins, looking for the way to most annoy her. It’s a favourite pastime of his and much easier than dealing with his sudden… attraction… to her. ‘You wished it was Sirius .’

She raises her eyebrows, not impressed. ‘I was hoping it was Mary,’ she says without any shame. ‘I had planned to transform one of these buckets into a rat, she hates them.’

‘You weren’t kidding with those seven minutes in hell, were you?’

‘It’s her fault for picking the worst dare,’ Evans says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. ‘Seven minutes in heaven , as if.’

His annoyance flares up. He still thinks Evans is gorgeous, especially with the way she crosses her arms under her chest, highlighting some curves very beautifully, but they don’t get along and they never will.

‘Your friends seem to think you’d take advantage of those seven minutes,’ he says, smirking, watching her eyes narrow in what it’s her favourite expression for him. He adores pissing her off. ‘Never kissed anyone, Evans?’

She blushes, a pinkness colouring her cheeks in the most charming way and James wants to touch her face, feel his cold hands burning with the warmth of her skin.

No, stop it , he shouldn’t want to touch her. He doesn’t stand her. And vice versa.

‘Don’t talk about you don’t know, Potter,’ she tells him angrily, but it’s just the same anger that James would use if the situation was reversed and he knows he hit a nerve.

‘What, been kissing Snivellus?’

‘Don’t call him that,’ she answers immediately. ‘And we are just friends, stop being creepy.’

‘But would you consider kissing his mouth? ‘Cause that’s creepy, Evans.’

‘I said we are only friends. You might try someday.’

‘I have friends,’ James says smugly, and Evans rolls eyes, but doesn’t reply. ‘If you never kissed anyone, what did you and Smith do last Hogsmeade weekend? Held hands like you were twelve?’

She searches her pocket for her wand, but it’s not there, so Evans throws him a look that would curse him if she had this power.

‘It’s none of your business, Potter. And I haven’t seen you having any dates to talk about my life!’

It’s true, but James can’t let her know that. ‘Oh, noticing if I have dates, Evans? What, you were jealous ?’

He takes a step closer to her, enjoying the way she just looks more nervous. That’s something more familiar for him, annoying Evans, and it’s much more comfortable to deal with, especially because if he is not concentrating, he would notice how she smells very nice.

And James is not thinking about that, of course.

‘I would be sorry for anyone who has to endure a date with you,’ she answers evenly. ‘Trust me, these seven minutes are taking way too long — imagine a full day.’

‘One might think you were imagining a full day with me, Evans.’

‘Only if I was in a nightmare.’

‘So I do appear in your dreams.’

‘Nightmares,’ she repeats, her eyes pure steel as she glares at him; James should notice the warning that look gives (he shouldn’t push her too much ), but for once he can only think on how green her eyes are, like the Forbidden Forest at night.

And he enjoys too much walking in the Forbidden Forest.

‘Maybe if you had a date with someone else you’d stop wondering about my dates,’ she declares, hissing. ‘Do you know what I imagine, Potter? You never had any date.’

‘I have,’ he lies easily, his hand running absently through his hair. ‘Just because I don’t go showing off about it —’

‘You? Not showing off? When was the last time you did something and didn’t brag about it?’

‘A gentleman does not show off,’ he says, which is something his father told him once but James didn’t think about it until now.

‘If you were a gentleman,’ she replies, a knowing smirk on her face that tells her she knows she hit a nerve with him too. Evans knows he never kissed anyone, and he can see her smugness about it, and if she tells anyone — Merlin, if she tells Snivellus he will never survive it…

‘Do you know what I imagine , Evans?’, he says, throwing her words back at her desperately. ‘That Smith kissed you and you were horrible at it.’

Her flushes intensifies, but if it’s shame or anger, James can’t know. She uncrosses her arms, coming closer, finger pointing at him menacingly.

‘He didn’t — you don’t know what you are talking about!’

‘I bet you don’t know how to snog.’

‘I can kiss just fine , Potter!’, she replies angrily (it’s anger after all, James realizes) and then she does the last thing James really imagined she would do.

She presses her lips against his.

And for two seconds, that’s all they do, really; he doesn’t know what’s keeping her immobile, and he almost asks if her brain has just turned to jelly too, because that’s what’s happening to him.

And then, in the fogness of his numb mind, other things emerge quietly. Her perfume, so close now that it’s more powerful than any other smell in the closet; the warmth of her skin, very different from that cold night; the green in her open eyes as she stares at him, as in shock as he feels, before the eyes are closed, stopping him from reading her emotions; and the sweetness of her lips, a hint of caramel that he suddenly wishes he can taste properly.

His eyes close and, in the darkness, all he can feel is Lily Evans.

They take a step closer in a synchrony that James knows they never had before, and then Evans’ hands are holding his arm and James holds her face. He moves his lips very tentatively, wanting to share more of that (whatever that is), and Evans raises on her tiptoes, her lips parting just the slightest. He feels her breath — it’s the butterbeer, a part of his mind realizes as if he should already know — and suddenly he wants to taste the drink too in her mouth.

(Is it possible to get drunk on a non-alcoholic drink? Because he feels intoxicated).

His tongue touches her lips, again tentatively (he has no idea what he’s doing, but so far things seem right), and she parts her lips even more, allowing him in. James has another moment of panic ( what is he supposed to do now? ), but then Evans’ tongue meet his and this feels right too.

Not just right. It sends shivers down his spine, it makes the world spins around him as if he is afloat and the only thing connecting to Earth is Evans’ lips and the way they move and Merlin why hasn’t he ever kissed Evans before ? He feels disconnected, as if he is watching them kissing from above, and James nearly laughs at the idea that he is snogging Lily Evans in a broom closet, that’s so unlikely — didn’t they hate each other?…

Then she breaks apart, jumping violently backwards, a look of terror on her face, and when James opens his eyes he sees that along with that kiss Evans was sharing the same thoughts as him.

She was in a broom closet snogging James Potter .

He breathes hard, urging air to fill his lungs; apparently kissing stops his natural reaction of breathing — though not other reactions. His body seems to be working overtime, judging by the way his heart is beating too fast in his chest.

Evans is out of breath too; he sees her chest rising and falling fast — then Evans notices his stares and she crosses her arms protectively, recovering faster than him.

‘I told you I could kiss,’ she says, voice full of dignity and he envies her for that.

James couldn’t form a sentence if his life depended on it.

‘You will not tell this to anyone,’ she adds, eyes narrowed again in what used to be James' favourite expression. Now he isn't sure. ‘I — I will deny it if anyone asks, so you will just look like a liar.’ She watches him. ‘Potter?’

‘Okay,’ he whispers, though he is not sure what he just agreed to. His brain is still not functioning properly.

‘Let’s go,’ she says, walking past him and opening the door, leaving just a hint of her perfume in the air.

He follows her, more on instinct than anything, surprised with the fact that he can walk .

People cheer when they enter the Common Room and James steals a glance at Evans. She looks normal, undisturbed, not at all like she has just shared a kiss with James that he… that he really wants to repeat.

‘You still have two minutes!,’ Mary notices, shaking her head disapprovingly at Evans, who just shrugs.

‘Two more minutes and one of us might not leave there alive,’ she says casually, sitting next to Mary.

‘James?,’ Sirius calls him, watching him closely, and James forces a smile upon his face.

‘Evans is right. One of us might not survive.’

They laugh, and James thinks he handled it well, half-truth as it is; everyone knows they don’t get along, he and Evans, they never had, and yet…

The bottle spins again, and now Remus is struggling to say who was his first crush, but James is not listening, not really paying attention to the game. His lips are still tingling, that lingering taste of butterbeer on his mouth, and he can’t help but steal glances at Evans — next time, he thinks feverish, he will let his hands (that stayed reprovingly still ) touch her face, hold her closer. Next time he will kiss her neck, will hear her sigh into his lips.

He will know what to do next time, he promises, but Evans never once looks in his direction.

The bottle stops pointing at her and it’s James turns to ask.

‘Truth or dare, Evans?,’ he asks, his voice sounding nicer than he ever talked to her before, while his hand runs through his hair nervously. His smile is confident, because Evans has to share that urge too, right?

But Evans eyes him as if she’d rather look at anything else and her voice is nearly dismayed when she calls ‘Dare’.

James doesn’t hesitate. ‘I dare you to go out with me, Evans.’

People whistle, but Evans doesn’t look amused. ‘It’s against the rules involving others in a dare, Potter,’ she tells him, coldly, raising. ‘And I think I’m done with this stupid game.’

She leaves the Common Room, and Mary throws a confused look at James before following her friend. Sirius looks at James with a baffled expression.

‘You stayed with her for five minutes and decided to ask her out? What happened there?’

‘Nothing,’ James says at ease. ‘I just realized Evans isn’t so bad.’

It’s a simple way of putting it, but despite what Evans may think about him, James will keep his word; that kiss (his first kiss) will remain between them only.

[meliorist-midoriya]

chasing the sun

synopsis: there’s something screaming in familiarity—in mourning—deep in his soul at the sight of you, a complete stranger. this is the price you pay for resurrection, the sun whispers as it rises.

pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, reincarnation au

warnings: mentions and depictions of death, major character deaths, mentions of war (+ description of a battlefield scene), injuries, blood.

word count: 11.7k

a/n: happy (extremely belated) birthday, bird boy. and aaaa my baby’s here, she’s finally here! i’ve been working on this fic for a little over two months now, and i’m so happy to see it fully fleshed out! thank you to @dimplesum​ for beta reading, and the tumblr chaos server for listening to me yell all the time abt this fic :’) disclaimer, i did as much research as i could, but any historical depictions are not 100% historically accurate and i have taken some creative liberty, so please take the historical scenes with a grain of salt! 

important: there will be songs linked throughout the fic to be played in accordance with the scene, i do hope you listen to them for the full experience! it is okay if the ost ends before the scene as that is also on purpose. the beginning of the song will start with 【 ☀︎ 】 with a link to the song. with that said, i hope you enjoy, and happy reading!

crossposted on Ao3

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Keigo, the youngest government official in the empire, stumbling upon a lone concubine in the eastern lotus garden. 

He’d been searching for solitude, away from the viper’s nest of samurai-turned-aristocrats, strutting around the castle with their now-useless weapons strapped to their hips, discussing poetry and politics instead of battle and war tactics.

It’d been disgustingly easy for them to make the switch from warrior to bureaucrat, taking the status boost in stride. Those who couldn’t, they stayed with their lords if they were lucky. The warriors who weren’t… Keigo would need an abacus to count the ones who weren’t so lucky, the countless rumors and reports of wandering rōnin with familiar names never failing to reach over the palace walls to get to him.

(Oh, what he would give to join them.)

Of course, he’d been intending to brood ponder over this in the seclusion of the garden he’d discovered a few days ago, staring at the green buds of the young lotuses in the water until his head spun. The sight of the concubine sitting in his spot (that he was certain was too secluded to be found) told him fate had other plans, however.

He cleared his throat and forced down the grimace once he saw the concubine jump, startled, before trying her best to smoothly turn and bow without looking too flustered.

“Good morning, madam.”

“Good morning—”

He smiled through the static in his brain at the mention of his surname, messily tacked to the honorific that he would never get used to. 

That name… it’s not mine. Don’t call me that.

A discordant mess of jumbled kanji that sounded nothing like the powerfully elegant names in the court. The ill-fitting characters standing out like an eyesore on his documents, the syllables falling awkwardly off the tongue in conversation.

Wholly fitting for an outsider like him, really.

The mention of that name grated something terrible in him, and he settled for keeping his teeth grit into a smile. A sheltered concubine wouldn’t know, of course she wouldn’t know. Practically no one did, so he had no one to fault but his own cursed sensitivity to a name he wanted to burn.

“Do you mind if I join you?” The slight twitch in her demure smile was answer enough, but he’d set aside time for this escape, and damn if he was going to let it go to waste.

“Of course not. Please, don’t mind me, my lord.”

He dipped his head in thanks and you bowed in return, the silence hanging in the air settling into something stiff and awkward. 

A minute passed… 

Then another… 

Then five… 

Keigo was going to go mad at this rate. Neither of you had any intention of leaving the rare pocket of seclusion, and the competitive whisper in the corner of his mind told him that leaving first meant conceding, meant losing.

(In his world, losing meant death.)

Keigo’s had enough of losing in life despite his dumb luck, thank you very much.

So, he did what he knew he did best. He talked. Shattering the awkward silence in an effort to coax the tranquil silence he was searching for back into the little gazebo by the pond. Maybe if he ran his mouth long enough, you’d get tired and leave.

“You’re a new face in the palace.”

With an expectant gaze, he watched the telltale shift from awkward to apprehensive, the rigidness of your stature sharply contrasting the flowing brocade of your kimono as you looked back at him with a too-sharp gaze before casting your eyes away to the green buds in the water. Had he been any slower, Keigo would’ve thought that the conflicted expression you quickly smoothed over was solemn (it was anything but). 

“I would say the same to you, my lord, but every face in this castle is a new face to me.” You tilted your head with a thin-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Although… I’m sure an official who just arrived at the castle for his yearly residence would be an especially new face. Please excuse my rudeness.”

Keigo blinked. Once, twice, his jaw relaxing into a disbelieving smile at the sight of your steely gaze bright with a challenge and a smile sharper than the blades at his waist, the unsaid words ringing clearly. 

Two could play at this game.

Well, now, this was new. 

Perhaps it was your defiance that remained steadfast in this castle, or the blissful ignorance that made you one of the few to look at him straight on instead of down your nose. A little voice whispered that this would change in due time, the politics and power struggles confined within the castle never failing to break down even the most resilient. Those that didn’t know how to play the game correctly simply… vanished.

“Someone’s well-informed, I see.” He folded his hands behind his back, his wish for tranquility long forgotten. “I heard a new concubine has just entered the castle as well. A consolation prize, of sorts, from the farthest reaches of the country. Of course, as I’ve been gone for a year and have only been here for four, I’m not too sure.” He flicks his gaze to you, accepting your challenge with a knife-sharp smile of his own.

“I am curious as to what this concubine’s name is, however.”

You arched a brow, the thin-lipped smile widening into something sweet (that looked better on a fox rather than a beautiful concubine), and you bowed. Any trace of that stiff apprehensiveness dissolved into a graceful fluidity that seemed to disappear within the rippling silk of your kimono.

“Lady Y/N. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

To this day, he’ll never admit how surprised he was at your reverence, nor how his heart did a funny little flip in his chest when you giggled at his flustered response. What kind of fool gave respect to a commoner picked up from the slums?

You. Except you were no fool, and maybe that’s why he kept coming back like a moth to flame.

Time passed, and he found himself in that little garden day after day, morning after morning. Listening to the concubine who told vivid stories of lands he could only dream of, foods he found himself craving, and tales of warriors past. 

The conversations at dawn soon turned into stories of the past, the laments of the present, and dreams of a bleak future. With delicate hands and gently prying words, you two unlocked every bar and lock you’d put over your souls and allowed yourselves to lay them bare for each other, the intimacy of a bond forged in secrets and solidarity far stronger than any alliance or contract.

You two confided in each other in that garden, staring at the dew on the lilypads as you two whispered how you didn’t belong in the palace. How the confines of grand walls with ears and eyes were no place for the adopted commoner and a concubine far from home. Two people in this big world who were just lucky enough, fortunate enough to end up within this lavish palace, your lives guaranteed splendor and comfort. 

Then again—you two would share a conspiratorial laugh—maybe you two were unfortunate instead. What was splendor and comfort when you had to constantly watch for a knife in your back or poison in your cup? When a single misstep could cost you your life? 

Conversations shared with you, the concubine with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, were the most fulfilling he’s had in ages. Maybe it was the sense of formality that the intimacy of the waterside gazebo stripped away, or the unraveling realization that he hasn’t breathed this freely in ages, that he was looking forward to these moments in the morning. The intimacy shared in the garden he selfishly liked to call his own little world.

Keigo catches the smile you hide behind your sleeve when he steps into the gazebo, and he realizes you’re being selfish, too.

He didn’t know how the conversation got here, he didn’t know why he had a hairpin meant for you tucked into his sleeve. All he knew was that when it came to you, he was helpless to the whims of rambling and buying a pretty hairpin made of red jade because it reminded him of a sharp wit with a pretty smile.

“I live for this country and I die for this country. Well, not that there’s anything much to die for anyway.” Keigo’s laugh is empty, and your melancholic gaze even emptier. A fog had blown in that morning, covering the pond in a soft cover of white, and your soft voice and softer touch on his arm (careful, almost) silenced his dry laughter and left his throat even drier. 

“What you would die for is also an excellent reason to live, is it not?”

Your words, whispered into the stillness of the moment, resonated so loudly within his soul and forced a shaky breath out of his lungs as he gazed in awe at you. At the soft, ethereal glow in the fog cast by the rising sun breaking through the clouds, the scent of bloomed lotuses wafting in on the breeze that rustles the dangling pieces of your hair ornaments. He is weak to whims when it comes to you, so he pulls out the hairpin burning a hole in his sleeve to slip into your hair with shaking hands unbefitting a swordsman. Keigo watches your eyes sparkle like the gem in your hair, and his heart lifts with hope as he whispers his devotion into the warm morning, carried by the wind into a sea of blooms.

“I’ll live for you, then.”

And with a smile, you fall in love.

(Keigo falls even harder.)

【 ☀︎ 】

He should have known.

“I don’t know what I was expecting from the son of a criminal.”

He really should have known.

“What was that fool thinking, taking a street rat like you in all those years ago?”

Honestly, he’d like an answer to that, too. Too bad the old man was dead and left him to inherit a position he didn’t even want. To think he’d agree with the emperor for once in his short life.

“Tsk, a son will follow in his father’s footsteps, after all. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.”

Keigo should be concerned that he couldn’t feel how the coarse dirt dug into his knees anymore, his cheek still aching from where the guard had punched him. 

(Okay, yes, he deserved it, but he could’ve done without tasting iron.)

The sadistic glee in the guard’s face after he landed that “disciplinary strike” told him otherwise. With a bitter grimace, he spat red into the dirt.

How long has he been kneeling here? Minutes? Hours? The words echoing over and over in his head pulled him away from his present reality, bringing him back to the blur that was the past two days.

(Three? He couldn’t be sure, time passes oddly in a prison cell.)

The servants whispering about a concubine being expelled from the harem, the handmaid being promoted to concubine suspiciously quickly, and sudden memories of too-loud rustling coming from the treeline that he’d foolishly brushed off. All of it culminated in the form of palace guards dragging him from his study all the way to the harem to throw him at the emperor’s feet.

“Could the street rat not keep his hands off the women of the court? Plenty to pick back where you came from.” 

Keigo wanted to vomit at the cloying stench of sake, unpleasant memories rushing to the forefront of his mind and forcing his limbs to lock from age-old fear. Not like he could use them anyway, with heavy hands on each shoulder pinning his knees to the tatami and his blades having long been tossed away in the struggle to drag him here.

“Oh, my lord, haven’t you heard?” A sickeningly saccharine voice pulled the man’s attention away to coo at the woman curled into his side, cradling a bottle of warmed sake. “Apparently the small-time nobleman who adopted him, did it knowing he was the son of that criminal you were having trouble with all that time ago.”

The grip forcing his head down loosened from the resounding laughter that rippled around the room, just enough to allow Keigo to glare at the loose-lipped concubine. Your opportunistic maidservant who’d been all too willing to take your place in the harem, having taken her chance and fleeing with it. Her tittering giggles and power-drunk grin grated his ears, and he kept glaring. Daring her to look back, to look him in the eye without feeling an ounce of guilt for what she had done.

Almost as if she heard his furious challenge, she took a glance at the man pinned to the floor (trying to look down her nose like she had been looked down on. Pathetic fool.)  only to jump at the righteous fury burning in his gaze, fear clouding her conscience for a precious moment. 

More, Keigo urged, rage bitter on his tongue, Guilt, shame, despair, all of it.

I hope you regret this for the rest of your life. Lament, as punishment for ruining hers—

“Don’t assume what I have and haven’t heard, woman,” The drunkard grunted, holding his cup out for her to pour with shaking hands and a meek surrender, “But, the man was losing his mind from age. What was that fool thinking, taking a dirty brat like this in all those years ago? Too useless to bear a son nor keep a wife, so he had to stoop low enough to take in a criminal’s son from the slums.”

Righteous fury welled up in his chest, and his body moved before his brain could catch up, spit landing at the emperor’s feet. Almost immediately thereafter, his head whipped to the side, cheek smarting from the sharp strike the guard’s knuckles had indented into his swelling cheek. He grit his teeth as that same cheek came down on the tatami, someone pressing his head into the ground.

“Years upon years of trying to force yourself into nobility, and you’d think you’d learn some respect along the way.”

Had he not been the one with his face pressed into the ground, Keigo would’ve laughed at the shade of fury-red the man’s face was turning. Sake did not treat him well. The concubines at his side, fearing for their lives, immediately rushed to whisper soothing words and calming pleas. Somehow, it worked, and he reclined back into his seat with a heavy sigh, draining the sake in one gulp.

“The son of a criminal shall inevitably become a criminal. Now that I think about it, this is a wonderful opportunity to get rid of an eyesore. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.” A sadistic grin split his lips around the cup, chortling with laughter at his own (terrible) wit. “Being buried next to his criminal father! What a filial son!”

The table shook from the force of a fine porcelain cup slamming down on it, as if the emperor were stamping his death certificate right then and there.

(He was.) 

“Get him out of my sight. The next time I want to see his head is on the gates of Kozukappara.”

Keigo the official had died in that room, and the man that was dragged out by his shoulders left the castle as a criminal.

“Done saying your prayers?” 

Slowly, he looked up from the white paper fan set in front of him in place of the tantō that should’ve been there for his use (obligatory seppuku, his muddled brain supplied with annoyingly familiar haughtiness, so the ex-warrior could die a warrior. What a joke—) to the man he’d chosen to be his executioner. Normally, he would’ve snapped back with something witty, something sharp, but going days without water wasn’t treating him well. A heavy sigh, and the man ran a frustrated thumb down the bright blue wrap of his katana hilt. 

“The concubine, of all women? An imperial concubine, at that. I’d expect you to know better than that, my friend.”

Ah, the static in his head was a little stronger today. Wonderful.

“I thought I knew better, too. At least I get to die to someone with a steady hand.”

He scoffed, thumb running over the blue hilt again. Keigo idly remembered seeing the man rub his burn-leathered skin the same way countless times, the anxious habit having stubbornly ingrained itself into his being since childhood.

“Must you be so dark?”

“When am I not?” He managed to muster up a slow grin. “I’m hurt, I thought my closest companion would’ve known this after years of keeping swords out of each other’s backs.”

The heavy gong announcing his execution sounded, and he watched his best friend’s melancholic gaze glaze over into soulless steel that mirrored the blade drawn from its hilt. Keigo dipped his head with a solemn smile and shut his eyes in resignation.

I really… should’ve known…

“Keigo!”

Everything paused for a breath, in shock at your shout breaking the stillness of the moment. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who was crying out, trying to delay the inevitable certainty. A sharp smile and an even sharper tongue reduced to nothing but cries and desperation.

“...I’ll continue.” The executioner ignored your desperate “No!” as he shifted his stance, scarred hands steady as he placed the blade against the back of his neck despite the pain Keigo knew he was in. 

It would’ve been nice to hold you in his arms, at least once— 

No, for eternity.

The blade came down and, like a lotus facing the sun in supplication, you screamed your despair into the heavens. 

That day, the blood red sunset matched the crimson pooling on the execution ground’s floor.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Private First Class Takami Keigo marching into a small city on the way to the front lines, rifle slung over his shoulder and feet aching.

They’ve been marching through the night, and for the first time in his life, he found himself grateful for Japan’s humid summer nights. He’d take sweat over losing toes from frostbite any day. 

But, he decides, sighing in relief along with the rest of the company at the sight of a town once they crested the hill, there was nothing like the relief of a warm bed and any food other than the tasteless military rations.

“Tired already?” The low voice beside him would’ve made him jump had it not been so familiar.

“Aw, what’s this? Is Touya-kun worried for little old me?” Keigo shot a grin at the man marching next to him and dodged the elbow that he aimed at his side with a short laugh.

“A tired soldier is a dead soldier.” A pause, and the next response came backed with a dry laugh. “Not like it’d affect you and your monstrous instincts, anyway.”

“Yes, as we’ve been told a thousand times, General.” The teasing tilt to his voice came easy, and he let his best friend elbow him this time, too busy laughing at his annoyance. 

Should he have been a little more worried of the captain catching him messing around? Yes, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Judging by the restless shifting rippling through the soldiers, no one was too worried about getting a scolding when they were so close to a warm meal and rest.

“Think the inn will be big enough to house all of us? Another night sleeping on the floor doesn’t sound all that nice to me.” 

Touya scoffed as if his question was the stupidest thing he’d heard all day, keeping his gaze straight as he adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, the company shifting around them into formation as they approached the gates.

“You’re complaining like it’s anything new to us.”

“Harsh.”

The conversation faded after that, the rough dirt under his boots soon transitioning into the packed earth of the town’s main street as residents gathered to whisper and gawk at the soldiers passing through, the sight of their uniforms a jarring eyesore in this sleepy town. 

A sleepy, familiar town.

Keigo’s mind was spinning. His restless gaze kept flicking around the too-familiar buildings and shops and people that remained after all these years. The restaurant with the broken kitchen window that was too easy to sneak into, the grocer who still kept his trash bin too close to the alley, the old woman sitting in front of her izakaya who always had ginger candy and a meal to give. 

They slowed to a stop in front of the large inn, and he stared up at the building that looked much smaller than he remembered, the interior much less grand than he’d imagined it to be as they filed their way in, and he found himself in the room he once dreamed of sleeping in. There, Keigo sat in near disbelief, on the futon that wasn’t as soft as he thought it would’ve been.

“How time flies, huh?” He looked up to see Touya dropping his pack next to his futon and sitting down across from him with a melancholy grin.

There was too much Keigo wanted to say, nostalgia bitter in the back of his throat, so he settled for a matching smile.

“Old Man Yasutaro never got around to fixing that boarded up window.” 

Touya barked out a surprised laugh, Keigo’s smile widening into a self-satisfied grin.

“You ever think he did that on purpose? He always did stock too much food.”

“Are you kidding?” Keigo shuddered at the phantom pain of the beatings he earned. “He was scary whenever he caught us, there’s no way mean ol’ Yasutaro would do all that just for a pair of orphans on the street.”

“Mm, I don’t know, he was always pretty sweet to Granny Tamayo, so anything that made him look good in her book.” Touya leaned back on his arms, the melancholy melting into the ease of bittersweet nostalgia. It was easier to smile through the painful memories rather than dwell on the past, so Keigo let himself toss his head back with a laugh.

“God, her ginger candy was the best.” 

“You sure it was the candy? Or the granddaughter who always snuck an extra piece to you?” That earned Touya a frustrated noise of protest and a half-hearted kick he dodged.

“That was ages ago!”

“And you still react like a little boy!” 

Keigo groaned, burying his face into his hands as if that would tune out Touya’s cackling laughter. It was short moments like this that took the weight off his shoulders, the murmurs of public dissent, the leaked plans of a planned riot, the magnitude of his actions tomorrow morning.

(Civilians. Of all things, why did it have to be civilians?)

He suddenly pushed himself to his feet, the heavy weight having pushed itself back onto his shoulders and slotting the familiar hum of alertness back into place. Touya gave him a knowing look that he, decidedly, ignored in favor of getting out before his mind swallowed him whole.

“Dinner is supposed to be in a bit, we should get going.”

“Wonderful job of changing the subject, really.”

“Wonderful job of being annoying.”

Touya dodged another swipe of the leg, laughing at his displeasure as he stood to follow.

“Why thank you, I try.” His grin widened with a certain glint in his eye that Keigo found himself dreading. “Now let’s get going, I heard some of the guys are at Granny Tamayo’s izakaya.”

“What?”

“My, isn’t that little Keigo? And little Touya?” 

Keigo faltered halfway through the entrance, smoothing his grimace into a smile as he watched the old lady totter over from her seat with all the coddling of a grandmother. The soldiers within earshot (who were already drinking and eating away. It was barely sunset—) paused to gawk and grin at the endearing interaction.

“Not so little anymore, Granny.”

“I’ll say. Are you eating alright? Is the military treating you well?”

“Granny!”

“What’s this? Speedy and Torchface have some history here?” Keigo kept his smile smooth, only shifting it just the slightest bit into what he knew would look like a sheepish grin instead of the pained grimace underneath the surface. Boisterous laughter that only alcohol could bring rippled around the spacious izakaya, the men cracking jokes over drinks and food.

“Careful calling him Torchface, he has the temper to match.”

Ah, there it is. Touya shouldered past him to stalk towards the offending table with a scarily wide grin, pulling the loose-lipped rookie into a chokehold, his wide grin unmoving.

“‘Has a temper’ my ass, you’re just jealous that a guy with a bunch of burn scars has an easier time with women than you idiots.”

The laughter only grew louder, Granny Tamayo’s expression softening at the interaction before turning back to Keigo with a nostalgic smile.

“Not so little… I see.” She motioned to the table Touya had made a space for himself at, shoving the rookie (who was still in a chokehold, poor kid) aside to make room for him. “Take a seat, dear, and the drinks will be right out.”

The too-loud laughter and incessantly clinking glasses filled the space up with ear-grating noise, and Keigo wanted to leave. Search for peace and solitude in the quiet streets in a way that was strangely familiar. 

(For a fleeting moment, he thought a quiet garden would be nice.)

However, he’d rather eat with the company of drunks rather than the void of his own mind and the horrors silence tended to bring, so the migraine starting to brew in the back of his head was a small price to pay. As was the heavy arm slung over his shoulder from some random soldier, alcohol-loosened and heavy, and the awkward conversation he found himself following along with perfectly tailored humor.

“Alright, I have two beers as well as a few rounds of edamame and—” 

The familiar voice stopped short, and Keigo felt his heart stop in tandem. Slowly, he looked up and saw the girl who used to sneak out an extra candy when her grandmother wasn’t looking, now a woman in the izakaya uniform balancing trays in one hand and two mugs in the other. 

“...Keigo?”

Almost as if the locked gates had been thrown open, a new rush of memories past had overcome him. Jaunts through the town disguised as adventures, clumsily dancing around an old gramophone and calling it a waltz, and the start of blossoming love. Keigo simply smiled, easygoing and familiar, like it hadn’t been years since you saw him run to the military with Touya the first chance they had, drawn by the promise of food and shelter. Like he hadn’t left a malnourished boy and come back a man with more scars than skin.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“‘Been a while.’” You rolled your eyes, setting down the mug in front of him with a huff. “The two most important people in my life run off to join the army without so much as a word, and that’s what you say?”

His words stopped halfway up his throat the moment he saw Granny Tamayo come up behind you to pinch you on the arm, the half-formed response morphing into a laugh as he watched you flinch back with a surprised (and betrayed) yelp.

“Y/N, darling, don’t be rude to the customers.” You pouted, rubbing at the sore spot on your upper arm.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“It’s fine, Granny. Nothing new, right?” At the sight of his cheeky smile, the old woman scoffs, something endearing, before nudging him out of his seat despite your noise of protest.

“Well, since you two seem to be talking of nothing but the past, why don’t you go take a walk down memory lane?”

“Wha— Grandmother! There’s still customers—”

“Kaede can handle it just fine! Shoo, shoo, get out of my hair.” 

Without missing a beat, Granny Tamayo smoothly plucked the trays from your hands and nudged you two towards the door as the soldiers watching roared with laughter and cooed jokes at the two “childhood lovers”. Keigo turned towards Touya, almost desperately, in a futile search for— what? Escape? Wasn’t he looking for escape in the first place?

“Wait, Granny, come on. Touya’s part of this too, isn’t he?”

“Don’t drag me into this, a trip down memory lane isn’t for me!” With an arm still slung over the now-wheezing rookie’s shoulder, Touya raised the cup of sake he’d ordered as if in toast. Whether it was to Keigo’s mortification, or to the potential opportunities this meant, Keigo didn’t want to know.

Probably both.

(...Probably the former, if he were to be honest with himself.)

A flurry of drunken laughter and lighthearted jokes, half-hearted protests that fell on deaf ears, and insistent pushing at his back later, he found himself standing outside the izakaya, blinking up at the full moon before looking over at you.

“...Did we just get kicked out?”

“I think we did.” You snorted, scuffing a mark into the dirt path with your heel, and Keigo wanted the earth to crack open and swallow him whole. What was he supposed to do? Stuck with the remnants of a rekindling love, the awkwardness that tended to come with years of estrangement and words that failed him when it came to you. 

Well, there’s really only one thing he could do.

Talk.

“So, what’s new with you?” He immediately cringed at his choice of words, forcing himself to school his expression over into an easygoing smile instead of recoiling like he so desperately wanted to do. 

Nice going there, Keigo, really.

“...Same old.” Your quiet answer snapped him out of his thoughts, and he tilted his head, almost like he was beckoning you to continue. “Same old town, same old job, same old life. I pretty much walked the path everyone knew I was going to go on as the granddaughter of the izakaya’s owner.”

You looked up with a sheepish grin, the bright moonlight casting the world (and you) in a silver glow, and Keigo felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Not the most exciting to a man from the military, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve seen a lot—” Keigo rubbed at the identification tag hidden under his clothes by force of habit, the leather cord heavy around his neck. He has seen a lot. Too much, to be exact, but how would he even begin to explain the horrors of man to someone… “normal”? How could he?

For someone whose wit and silver tongue helped him survive all these years, he was awfully tongue-tied tonight. Or maybe it was just you, and the surreal lightness settling into his soul that had him stumbling over his words.

“But you’ve seen enough?” You finished his sentence with a wry grin, and the surprised laugh found itself past his lips before he could catch it. How could he forget? You were always, always a step ahead of him. Back then and even now.

“Enough of my barracks and Touya’s face? Yeah, definitely.” You swatted his arm with a huff, and the familiar action made the next laugh come a little easier, his chest a little lighter as the awkwardness slowly dissipated into something… comfortable. Normal.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” 

“Well, that’s your answer, Y/N. Don’t know what else to tell you,” He shrugged in mock ignorance, and you groaned, going back to worrying at the deepening scuff in the dirt. 

“What, so, we both had boring lives?”

Far from boring.

“...Yeah, I guess so.” 

You pursed your lips and stared out at the quiet street, the beat of silence almost bordering on awkward by the time you broke it with a resolute sigh, starting to walk forward into the moonlight.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make up for it somehow.” 

“And how would you do that?”

“By going back to when life wasn’t so boring,” You hummed, spinning to face him and grandly spreading your arms, as if you were presenting the lantern-lit street to him, “C’mon! Tonight, this main street is memory lane!”

“Aren’t you taking me out of town at one point, though?”

“Oh, hush. Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, coming.”

Oh, your smile was radiant, and Keigo had to force himself to keep moving instead of gaping like a fool.

(Was it possible for him to make you smile like that all the time?)

For the next hour, time seemed to stop. The moon stood frozen in the sparkling sky, watching two star-crossed lovers go around town, laughing and reminiscing on what could’ve been. What could be, if Keigo were to be bold. You took him down Main Street as promised, and he found it hard to relate to the memories you spoke of, associating each store with scornful stares and pitiful ignorance. Eventually, you two looped around to the outskirts of town. To the river that looked more like a creek now, and the quaint houses and maze of alleyways. To familiarity.

He smiles as he watches you skip rocks in the creek, laughs when you wrinkle your nose at the dog that always seems to only bark when you two pass by Old Man Yasutaro’s gate, and revels in the memories.

“You still suck!”

“Hey! It’s not like we skip rocks all the time in the military.”

You merely rolled your eyes and continued to skip ahead, the slow and awkward trudge from before revived into the enthusiastic step he remembered, fueled by the joys of nostalgia and escape. 

This, Keigo realizes, is nostalgia.

Not the pain of remembering a past he wanted to forget, not looking at alleyways to remember what used to be his childhood, not thinking of the shops as someplace otherworldly. Rather, it was this. The joy of reminiscing on good times. The joy of breathing new life into old memories.

The joy he now knew was to be found in you.

“Hey.” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see you grinning, the moonlight illuminating something akin to mischief in your eyes. “Remember that old gramophone we could never figure out when we were little?”

“You mean you could never figure out. I didn’t want to touch it because Granny Tamayo is a scary, scary woman.”

And a dirty street orphan’s hands had no place on such an expensive thing.

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, following along anyway as you set off down the path with a new purpose. The route was familiar, and Keigo already had an idea of where this was going, but who was he to speak when you were nearly buzzing with excitement?

“What I mean to say is: I figured it out, so—” You spun in place again, taking his hand, and his heart damn near stopped, “—would you like this dance? To some actual music, this time.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? A proper lady needs the proper etiquette, after all.” His cheeky grin betrayed the politeness of his words, and you scoffed, tugging him along.

“Like you would ask me first.” Keigo’s tongue stalled around a response, scrambling for a proper comeback because you were right. Deep down, he knew that he still never would’ve asked you first for anything. It wasn’t his place. First, as a kid on the street compared to the granddaughter of the izakaya owner. Now, as a man with blood on his hands compared to an innocent civilian, untainted by the shadows of war.

Who was he to ask anything from a normal person?

“Lead the way, then.”

There was that radiant grin again, brimming with excitement and sending him reeling. Keigo couldn’t help but let your enthusiasm rub off on him as he followed you to the little communal courtyard behind Granny Tamayo’s home, where he knew that she liked to keep that Western gramophone to play for guests. You broke away to go and try and work the old machine, mumbling to yourself as you fiddled with the knobs and rifled through the records filed away in the ornate cabinet it was sitting on. 

He took the chance to look around the empty courtyard, struck with the realization that it hadn’t changed at all in the years he was gone. He left all those years ago, only to return to a town that seemed almost frozen in time. It was too far from the cities for all the modern inventions to catch up with it, so the only things that changed were, well, the people. Keigo most of all. What if he hadn’t—

The sudden burst of music and your shout of victory cut off his wandering train of thought, and you walked back into his line of vision with a triumphant grin.

“I still don’t know how to fix the tempo, so the song’s a little slow. You’ll have to forgive me for that.” You offered up your hand and tilted your head, still smiling. “May I have this dance?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Like you’d ask me first.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo grinned in well-earned defeat, and his hand slipped into yours with the other on your waist. The music swelled, and he took the first step.

One, two, three, one, two, three…

With too-slow, clumsy steps, the two of you slowly began waltzing your way around the small courtyard. You still kind of didn’t know how to work the gramophone—the song almost eerily slow, despite the years of fiddling—but that didn’t matter in the face of the giddy smiles shared, your soft laughs when he spun you in a flash of spontaneity, and the nostalgia of old times.

Before, he was a scrawny kid on the street who clumsily tried to follow the steps of the pretty girl playing a song on her father’s gramophone. Tomorrow, he would be Private First Class Takami Keigo, fighting for his life on the battlefield. Tonight, he would be normal again, slow dancing to Clair de Lune playing off an old, off-beat gramophone with you in his arms, mourning a start he didn’t get to have.

(As normal as a kid scrounging for scraps on the street could’ve been.)

Your voice, soft and wavering, broke the stillness of the moment, as if it were something taboo that shouldn’t have been uttered into existence at all.

“Keigo?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

You flushed at the endearment, the next words shattering his illusion of happiness within nostalgia with the renewed vigor of confidence in the face of the impossible.

“Will you come home?”

Home.

A simple word, really. And yet it dropped like a stone in his chest. Home meant a roof over his head. Home meant warm food on the table. Home meant a simple life in a sleepy rural town. Home meant the promise of a new beginning.

To you, “home” probably meant nothing more than the place you had known all your life.

To him, “home” meant you.

So, like a dreamer in love, he answered with all the confidence of a fool.

“Yeah... I will. I don’t care how long it’ll take me, but I’ll come home.”

He thought the shaky lilt to his voice would’ve given him away, or the way his step faltered in the already clumsy waltz as if trying to step around what he knew should’ve been the answer. 

Instead, you laughed. Something soft, and let him spin you once more.

“Well, I’ve already waited a couple years, what’s a little more waiting?”

Keigo had to keep himself from double checking if this was real. Dancing with you in the moonlight as he tried to step around the reality of that answer with all the awkward grace of a scared child.

One, two, three, one, two, three… 

Truth be told, the both of you knew the answer long before you had pushed the question into desperate existence, searching for a shred of hope. That his simple answer should have been an realistic “I don’t know” or a pessimistic “no promises”, instead of a foolish “yes.”

Instead, he slowed the waltz to a sway, pulling you close to both ingrain the feeling of you into his soul and to hopefully hide the resigned melancholy of a soldier being carted off to uncertainty.

And, for a traitorous moment, Keigo wondered.

Dreamed, even.

What would it have been like to have a “normal” life? Instead of grasping the hand of desperation, would he have grown out of the side alleys and homes made of boxes into a “respectable” man? Maybe he could’ve gotten a job at the grocer’s, at Old Yasutaro’s restaurant, or maybe even Granny Tamayo’s izakaya. Could he have—he pulled you closer, pressing a ghost of a kiss to your temple—could he have courted you the “right” way? Brought you flowers and honey-sweet words of praise and promises of a happy future, instead of a single night dancing in the moonlight with a brittle promise hanging in the tense air that the both of you clung onto like a lifeline. A promise that Keigo wasn’t even sure he could fulfill.

He would later come to regret this single moment. Of this, he was sure.

(But, as you lifted your head from his chest with glassy eyes and a shaky smile, he knew he wasn’t alone in this regret.)

Keigo knew the words that you wished to let fall into the night air, in hopes of making that brittle promise tangible. Of giving life to a bright future with three little words. The reality crawled up his throat like poison, bitter and cloying, something that he knew shouldn’t be said. Keigo settled for gently wrapping his hand around your head to pull you closer, filtering the harsh truth into something a little softer, the bittersweet tone marking the unspoken truth as a reality instead of the dreams of a future.

One… two… three… 

“Don’t,” He muttered, heart tightening as he felt you go rigid in his arms, “I know. Please, God, I know—”

You slowly relaxed in his arms with all the bitter acceptance of a night before battle, and he murmured the next words into another ghost of a kiss. A whisper against your lips, seen only by the fading notes of a song in the moonlight.

“—but don’t.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo’s breath was rattling, ears ringing with war cries, death wails, and everything in between. The once-blue noon sky was now a startling haze of ash gray, thick with the choking scent of the world burning.

He couldn’t even tell where the carnage started or ended anymore.

(Would it ever end?) 

How long has it been since the first shot?

(Too long.) 

Would he live to see the sunset?

(Of all times to worry about this, why now?)

The incessant drill of artillery fire was nothing new to him, as was the stench of the battlefield that could only be described as death.  What was new, was something that pushed his aching body to keep moving, the autopilot state he usually entered backed with something raw. Something like fear.

Something like the will to survive.

The pain that set his nerves on fire has long since faded, all the pain of countless wounds blending together into something numbed by the adrenaline of survival. Were the wet patches on his uniform sweat? Blood? Both? He couldn’t tell anymore, all he knew was survival and the persistent voice whispering deadly distraction in the back of his mind.

Civilians. You’re fighting civilians, you mur—

The skin of his back prickled, the telltale whistling of something flying screeched in his ears, and his reflexes yanked him to dive out of the way before his mind could catch up. Not even a second later, another explosive detonated behind him and heat blazed across his back. His nerves screamed fresh pain into his senses and he grit his teeth, ignoring the concerning sound of sizzling over the ringing in his ears in favor of ducking into cover, collapsing against the wall of a destroyed building. 

Since when did regular people know how to make bombs?!

In the next breath, someone else had ducked into the small shelter he’d found in this hellscape of a city. 

Well, the remains of one. All hell broke loose once the other side brought homemade explosives into the fray and now, as he stared at the burning and destruction, Keigo wondered if those Westerners who muttered meaningless blessings whenever they passed were right. 

If this “Hell” they spoke of really was on Earth. 

He turned his head, suddenly sluggish, to the man that had joined him in the makeshift cover, and grinned at the familiar face.

“Hey, man.”

(Maybe giving his body a chance to slow down was a mistake.)

Touya ignored his exhausted greeting, instead opting to yank a rag from his pouch as he pulled Keigo to sit up so he could press the rag into the deep gashes the shrapnel had gouged into his back. Keigo immediately groaned in protest at the stinging pain, despite how necessary he knew it was.

“Fucking— how did you even survive that?”

“Dunno,” He let out a weak laugh, “Don’t think I will—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you myself.” Despite his harsh threat, Touya pressed the slowly darkening rag deeper into his wound. A desperate (futile) attempt to stop the life pooling onto the floor underneath them, steadily flowing from the deep gashes in his back and all the other wounds peppering his body.

“Isn’t that the exact opposite—” He hissed in pain at the pressure on his wounds, “—of what you want?” 

“Shut up.”

“You know you don’t want me doing that.”

(He was right. Keigo running his mouth meant that he was breathing. Meant that he was alive.)

Touya pressed his lips into a thin line, Keigo blearily tracking the way his burn scars pulled with the movement. 

Grounding himself, that’s what he’s supposed to do during times like this, right? Hell, he didn’t know. Not every day he came so close to death. Touya really needed to look into something for those sc—

“For the love of the gods, I am begging you to shut up.”

Ah, he said all that out loud? He managed to muster up a sheepish grin, despite Touya’s grim expression.

“Ooh, Touya? Begging? That’s a first, I should stay awake to hear it.” Keigo didn’t have to look to know that the rag was soaked through and Touya was fighting against the inevitable at this point. Keigo? He… he was too tired to fight to keep his eyes open. Too cold.

“Maybe you should stay awake to go home, loverboy.”

“I should.” He fumbled to find purchase, pressing his palm into the ground and scooting his feet closer for leverage. “Can’t leave Y/N waiting after all.”

Maybe it was the delirium from the blood-loss, or the desperation of this cursed situation, but Keigo tried to pull himself up. To move, to get somewhere safer, somewhere where he could survive. His palm slipped on the blood-slick floor underneath him and he came crashing down once more, his strength disappearing along with it as he slumped against Touya.

“Ah—”

“Shit, I’ll get you to the medic.” 

Keigo groaned at the pain of his wounds being jostled as Touya tried to haul the deadweight of his sluggish body up. The reality of the situation weighed heavy on his shoulders (or was it his strength leaving him?) and he licked his chapped lips, whispering the grim truth into the ash-hazy air.

“I’m not gonna make it to the medic.”

“How many times do I have to keep telling you to shut up?” Another attempt to pull him to his feet, and Keigo managed to push out a weak laugh.

“Just a couple more times.”

“Hey… hey, c’mon now, I still have to make fun of you and Y/N for being the most disgusting couple I’ve ever met.” He carefully shook Keigo, trying desperately to get him to keep his drooping eyes open.

“Aw, don’t tease Y/N too badly.”

Something changed in Touya’s voice, a block in his throat that he had to force his words through, and he clutched the dripping rag closer to his wounds as he muttered out his response.

“I won’t.”

“Good, good,” Keigo’s hands clumsily fumbled for the cord wrapped over his chest, tugging at it until it came loose. “Hey, can you tell Y/N that I’ll do my best to come home? In any way I can.”

“...Just do it yourself.” 

“Mm, that would… that would be nice. Coming home, I mean. I promised… Y/N… I would…”

His words faded, and Touya froze, arms suspended in midair around the slumped form of his best friend, his stunned gaze locked on the identification tag hanging from a limp, bloody hand.

“Kei...go?”

【 ☀︎ 】

Waiting was agony.

You used to think you were a patient person, years of dealing with drunks, horrible customers, and everything in between training the patience of a saint into you. 

Today, however, revealed that you were anything but. The moment the company had crested the hill and out of sight, your anxieties slowly overcame you the farther they went. Working in the izakaya helped, the constant flow of customers and orders kept you on your feet and your thoughts off the battle that was no doubt waging mere miles away. Every so often, a wandering patron would come in murmuring that they heard bits and pieces of the battle, and you forced yourself to forget again.

All that effort was lost once the company’s runner came barreling through the town, shouting that the soldiers were on their way back. That they needed spaces cleared for the wounded and their lodgings secured. They called for the doctor, they called for food, they called for supplies. 

If you didn’t know any better, it would’ve sounded like a cry for help.

Word spread like wildfire, and the rush of serving customers turned into the rush of trying to help prepare for the soldiers’ return. None of it helped get your mind off the one thing you didn’t want to worry about. If anything, it just shoved all your worries to the forefront of your mind, accompanied by the dull headaches of something you hoped were just random fantasies.

(Fantasies of a lotus garden, a guarded grin, a red hairpin, a betrayal—)

Would he have to be wrapped in the bandages you were carrying? Would he have to rest in the bedding in your hands? Would he be able to eat the food your grandmother was preparing?

Then, they came. 

A slow straggle of wounded and weary men, leaning and limping on each other as they slowly trickled in through the main street.

There were many things that wouldn’t happen, you would later realize, watching the company trudge back into the town. Their formation was shaky from the hobbling wounded, and you felt your heart drop as you desperately searched the noticeably thinner crowd, trying to peek through the uniforms and bandages and dented helmets for any sign that he had come home. That he had survived.

How many men did they lose?

(Too many.)

You watched the flow of soldiers slowly follow their commander to their lodgings and the doctor, the once boisterous crowd now silent and battle-worn. The rookie that had just been under a chokehold the other night was now cradling bandaged wounds and a gaunt expression that only told of his first brushes with death.

One soldier broke from the crowd to make his way towards you, and—for a fleeting moment—you hoped. 

And just as quickly as it came, that hope you had soon sunk into despair once you saw who it was, and what he held in his scarred hands.

Across the street, a man broke rank, with a heavier burden than most would’ve thought and few would ever experience. He hoped that no one would have to experience this, a death and the task of delivering such news weighing heavy on his shoulders.

Life, Touya thinks, is cruel.

It left such a brilliant mind like Keigo to starve with him on the streets.

It forced him to run to the military in desperation, searching for steady food and shelter.

It snatched away the one man who had salvation waiting for him.

Death, Touya grieves, is even crueler.

Keigo would never get to go home.

He wouldn’t get to see the joy on your face once you welcomed him home with open arms. 

(How could he? When your expression twists into something akin to dawning horror instead of joy, watching Touya make his way up to you with downcast eyes and a heavy bundle of fabric carefully cradled in his palm.)

He wouldn’t get to start the new life he deserved, in a sleepy rural town with the one he adored.

He wouldn’t get to fulfill his promise to you.

A promise that everyone knew was too risky a promise to make. Yet, he believed enough to make it to you.

A promise that Touya holds back on his tongue because he knew this—a little metal disc on a bloodstained cord—wouldn’t fulfill it, not when he hands you the neat square of scrap fabric and watches your tears flow before you even open it. Not when you slip out a worn identification tag, holding it up to the sunset to try and make out the letters you already knew were there.

A lantern illuminates what the fading sunlight could not, casting the stamped characters of Keigo’s bloodied name in an amber glow, and you crumble.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Professor Takami, Head of the Sociology Department, first through the doors of the campus café with essays to be finished grading in one hand and his laptop bag in the other.

The cashier greets him with a familiar warmth as he steps up to the counter, his staple order already halfway punched into the register with a knowing smile that he forces himself to return. There’s a nervous energy simmering under his skin that he can’t seem to shake, and it shows. The barista (Touya. His name is Touya. He literally has one of the guy’s essays in his hand, fucking hell. Get it together, Keigo) shoots the normally easygoing professor a worried look as he slides the warmed pastry across the counter to him, the full sleeves of swirling blue and black ink a stark contrast against the smooth wood of the counter.

“Everything good with you, Professor?”

“Perfect, now that I got my pastry. Think I’ll be even better once I drink some coffee.” 

Nothing was perfect, and he couldn’t even put a finger on what it was. 

He plastered a convincing smile on his face as he picked up the too-heavy plate, careful to hold it steady before making a beeline for his usual table. The faster he got to sit down at his usual corner booth and sort himself out, the better. 

He knew that he would just drown himself in grading papers instead of figuring out what was making him feel off, but it was the thought that counted.

The hum of energy under his skin was nothing new to him. Something deep inside that made him almost jumpy, wary of the peaceful days that had consumed his entire life, lying in wait for… something. For what? Keigo wished he knew.

(For battles yet started, for warcries yet sung, for survival yet fought for.)

All he knew was that the strange hum that threatened to vibrate him out of his own skin was different this time. Wrong. It didn’t help that his sleep had been suffering for the past week, plagued by dreams and nightmares both of eras past, the blurry picture of the same person a constant sight in the swirling mix of history. Images flickering between a secluded lotus garden and an elaborate kimono to an old izakaya and Clair de Lune at moonrise. Images of yearning and blood and tragedy and endings before the beginnings.

At least his conversations with the once-intimidating Japanese Literature professor got a smidge more interesting.

With the resolute click of a red pen, he swept away the thoughts clouding his mind as he resigned himself to his fate of just dealing with the strange mood for now, fully intent on getting to work. Years of repetition and muscle memory had him opening up his email with practiced ease, quietly sighing to himself as he waited for the doubtlessly endless emails from students and colleagues alike to load. 

Would procrastinating just the tiniest bit by fiddling with the rolled cuffs of his sleeves or pushing up his glasses for the nth time help at all? 

No, but it let Keigo expel the weirdly restless energy in what ways he could, the creeping sense of foreboding setting his nerves into overdrive. The page loaded and he frowned at the onslaught of emails he knew were going to flood his inbox. 

Hell, he expected them to.

What he didn’t expect were the contents, the subject lines all variations of “Did you know?” and “There’s no way” and “I can’t believe it” from colleagues he didn’t even talk to regularly. Sure, the email from the cultural anthropology professor made sense, but the graphic design professor? The head of the business department?

Before he could open the first email of many, his laptop chirped out the familiar ‘ding!’ of a new email, the sound rippling through the café as everyone’s phones and laptops lit up with the same message. 

A schoolwide email? Okay, th—

The world slowed to a crawl, everyone in the packed coffee shop silencing almost at once and the shocked whispers rippling throughout the space only serving to make the silence all the more deafening (“Hey, check your email.” and “Look at this.” and “No way.” and it was too loud someone please make it stop—), his ears near ringing as he struggled to tear his gaze away from the picture embedded at the top of the page.

“Looking a little rough there.” The cotton suddenly stuffing his ears muffled the barista’s voice and would’ve made him jump out of his skin had he been focused on anything but burning the email into his eyes. God, he’d barely even registered the guy coming up to serve his coffee, what was wrong with him? “Professor? Was it that email?”

“Y-Yeah, I just read it.” He cleared his throat and slid the mug closer to himself, taking a sip of the scalding hot coffee to ground himself as he stared at the picture of you. 

The barista merely arched a pierced brow and muttered a soft “ah.” before going back to his spot behind the espresso machine, vibrant blue eyes tracking the rattled professor suspiciously. Keigo was too preoccupied to thank him as he usually would’ve. Too preoccupied with what was staring back at him from his laptop screen.

A picture placed right under the subject line plastering “Unfortunate news about Prof. L/N Y/N” across his screen, the few words in the body text (that he could pick out through the sudden tidal wave of memories past clicking into place) painted an image that he couldn’t help but mourn.

After being reported missing… remains found… will be missed.

Will be missed… 

Well, now that he thought about it, Keigo had been missing you all his life, hadn’t he? 

Both figuratively and literally, always arriving after you left and vice versa, never really seeming to connect in person. Any emails were shrouded with a veil of professionalism that he couldn’t pierce through. Yet, there were things so irrevocably you that he knew to pick out now. The jovial note at the end of your emails, the unapologetically confident sharpness to your words, the extra mug you left for the next person that passed through the faculty lounge (that somehow always ended up being him on the days he was rushing to his next lecture). 

All these things, all these moments, and the fool had passed all of them by.

The restless energy humming under his skin through his entire being disappeared much quicker than it had come, its job done, leaving a gaping  void in its wake that was shockingly familiar. Almost as if this wasn’t the first time this had happened, where the curtains never raised on the beginning you two could’ve had. He took a shuddering, stabilizing breath (that didn’t work), too numb to feel the freshly brewed coffee scalding his tongue that he had hoped would pull him back to reality, hoped the sweet taste would wash away the bitterness at the back of his throat and the splitting headache of years upon years of memories crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Professor Takami had work to get done.

Keigo could mourn later.

Even as he convinced himself of that, he couldn’t even bring himself to brush the dead lotus petals off his work, the sight of the wilted centerpiece only bringing more pain. The cruel coincidence of the once bloomed flowers now dead in his hands didn’t go unnoticed, and Keigo desperately tried to bore the printed words laid in front of him into his mind. 

As if doing that would sear away the sudden onslaught of memories, dead lotus petals igniting a yearning for a long-demolished lotus garden and a pretty concubine who didn’t belong in the palace (or was it a small town and the life he could’ve had?) and the love that slipped through his fingers once more.

Did you go through this too? When he—

The half-graded essays lay untouched for the rest of the day, red ink disappearing in the crimson light cast by the setting sun.

【 ☀︎ 】

When did I…?

He blinked down at the concrete under his feet, stunned, before looking up to see an endless sea of trains passing in front of him. The incessant rushing of the trains around him had replaced the silence of the hotel room he was supposed to be sound asleep in, the too-rhythmic noise of the train tracks surrounding him in an almost ethereal white noise. 

I had just gone to bed… How did I end up at a train station?

He winced at the glare of the midday sun reflecting off of the last car of the train passing in front of him, before stopping short at the sight of someone standing on the other side of the tracks—alone—revealed by the passing train. His heart leapt into his throat and pushed a name he didn’t know and wouldn’t remember out of his lips. There was no way he knew her, the multi-layered kimono and elegant hairpins looked like something out of a millenia-old ukiyo-e print and wholly out of place in a modern train station. But... something deep in his soul knew that it was right, and it sang as he watched the woman turn around. 

“You’re dreaming right now, Keigo. Go back to sleep,”

“What…?” 

“It’s true,” The woman tilted her head with the soft smile that he’d missed so much (missed? Wasn’t this his first time seeing it?) and the ancient hairpieces jingled and swayed with the movement, his gaze locking on a familiar crimson gemstone catching the sunlight, “Don’t believe me? Try to count some numbers, then. One… two…”

Another train hurtled past, blocking his view once more as her painted lips moved soundlessly around the final number.

“Three.”

Keigo sat up with a gasp, staring at the soft shafts of light the sunrise painted on the walls.

It was the start of a new day, and he found himself mourning something lost that he couldn’t even remember.

Dawn finds Hawks, the number two hero, leaping out of his Tokyo hotel window, wind catching on vermilion wings to buffer his descent to the sidewalk.

He was far from home, his current mission dragging him all the way to Tokyo from his agency in Fukuoka. Sneakers touched concrete, and he started down the path where he was supposed to meet with the last person he wanted to see right now. Especially after that mess with the High-End Nomu. He shuddered, spreading his wings as if to remind himself that they were all there, recovered after that hellish fight.

Come to the location on foot, he’d been told, and don’t be conspicuous.

Weird request, and it was kind of hard to remain inconspicuous when he was the number two hero and had a pair of bright red wings announcing his identity to the world. Alas, he needed to cooperate or else he’d end up jeopardizing the entire mission, so Keigo settled for ditching his hero costume in favor of casual clothes and a cap to hide his identity. He pulled a mask over his nose and tucked his wings closer to further help conceal himself as he walked down the street, dipping into the first alley he saw.

His path through the grid of alleyways and side streets had already been mapped out the days before, so it was just a matter of making the short trek there. Unfortunately, the area wasn’t the best, and Keigo found himself slowed by sidestepping trash and the occasional bottle of liquor. The scent of stale alcohol only brought unpleasant fragments of memories, and he pushed them aside in favor of quickening his pace.

“My, not every day I see such a bigshot hero pass by.”

He almost tripped over another bottle, wings ruffling in surprise as he cursed himself for being caught off guard.

There was an old woman sitting there, a steaming cup of tea in her hands as she sat outside her quaint little storefront. 

A flower shop, in this secluded side street? 

“Ah, sorry, ma’am, you have the wrong person. I mean, me? The number 2 pro hero?” He was quick to deny her, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. She merely hummed and took another sip of her tea.

“Do I? Well, this old woman’s eyes aren’t what they used to be after all.” She set down the cup and stepped out of her chair, shuffling over to the water feature on the other side of the doorway that served as an attraction. He could see why, the soft rush of the small waterfall and fragrant lotuses drawing his attention the more he stared.

Suddenly, the woman plucked one of the younger lotuses, patting the stem dry before handing it to him with a smile.

“Uh—”

“You saved my son that day, from the Nomu attack in Fukuoka. This is the least I could do.”

Against his better judgement—he really needed to get going to catch the train in time—he took the half-bloomed lotus in his hands and pulled down his mask to smile at her.

“Your eyes are… actually pretty sharp, ma’am. Thank you.”

She laughed, sitting back in her seat and sent him on his way. The rest of the walk went smoothly after that, and he soon found himself jogging up the stairs to the station, muttering under his breath as he checked his watch. 

Right on time.

【 ☀︎ 】

A strange sense of deja vu creeped into his chest as he stepped onto the platform in Minami-senju station. He’d been feeling off all day, and the weird sense of familiarity that had been tugging at the back of his mind didn’t help. Luckily, he’d managed to arrive in time to catch the noon train so the rest of his schedule should hopefully go smoothly from here. A departing train screeched into motion, and he winced at the rippling glare of sunlight that reflected into his eyes, the strange deja vu rearing its head again.

Keigo stared at the train passing in front of him as he idly twirled the lotus stem in between his fingers. The words left his lips before he could catch himself.

“One… two…” He cut himself off with a sigh, dropping his head and dragging a hand over his face.

It was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

Keigo.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, the world darkening under the shade of a passing cloud. Did he just imagine that? He had to. The train station was practically stranded, and there was no one even close enough to call his name without shouting across the station (if they even knew his name in the first place). Despite his better judgement, he wet his lips and shut his eyes, the strangely familiar words passing his lips once more as he desperately tried to recall the familiarity he longed for.

“One…”

I want to see you.

“Two…” 

I don’t even know who you are, but I miss you anyway.

“Three—”

Suddenly, the steady rhythm of the train tracks silenced and left him with the raging drum of his heartbeat, the blood rushing in his ears as he stared at the person standing on the other side of the tracks. The emerging sun smiled upon him, casting the world in light once more as his voice locked around a familiar name he’d never spoken.

It started as a hushed whisper, and he swallowed the lump in his throat to call the name thrice ingrained into his soul.

“Y/N!”

The familiar smile that bloomed across your lips was answer enough as he pushed through the newly arrived train to the other side, to you. He reached out, clawing through the rush hour crowd (why were there so many people? Why were you so far? Closer, closer, closer—) and he nearly sobbed in relief as you fell into his arms, clinging to each other as your souls finally, finally, melded together as one. Now and forevermore.

The questions could come later, but now... he had a promise to fulfill.

He was home.

notes: minami-senju train station is located in very close proximity (a two-minute walk) from what is left of the kozukappara execution grounds, where a temple now stands in its place. he’s made quite the journey to come full circle, hasn’t he?