seimorponekami

[seimorponekami]

Kyojuro’s a fairly innocent guy. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s focused on his profession, on saving the lives of those who can’t protect themselves. That doesn’t mean he’s a stranger to his hormones, by all means he’s quite familiar with them. They don’t make an appearance all that often, but they’re certainly there.

He could honestly go about his life never having sex and it wouldn’t bother him really… that is until he met you.

A mission gone wrong earned Kyojuro a month's stay at the Butterfly estate. As cheesy as it sounds, when he first woke up in that bed he thought he had died. You were beside his bed, carefully changing the bandages on his wounds. “Oh! Rengoku-Sama! How are you feeling?!” He blinked at you, lips parted as he took in what he believed to be an angel. "You don't need to reply if speaking is difficult right now..." you laughed nervously, moving to finish the half-bandaged wound. Still, he was too stunned to speak.

You quickly grew fond of each other within the first week of his stay. Bringing the pillar his meals and checking his bandages every few hours. That eventually turned into Kyojuro asking you to stay, eat with him, chat with him into the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. By the second week, it was quite apparent to everyone that the two of you had quickly grown to care for one another.

“Beautiful as ever this morning.” You rolled your eyes, face warming as you set the tray of food on his bed for him. “You’re too much, Rengoku-san.” He smiled, he was still trying to get you to call him by his first name. Though, he had to admit you changing from sama to san in a weeks time was a good start. “It’s the honest truth, I have no reason to lie.” He thanked you for the food, smiling a bit more as you pulled a stool to sit by his bed. “Fine, you’re far too kind.” You countered, hoping it would ease your racing heart. “Really, it’s the truth. When I woke up last week, while you were tending to my wounds, I truly believed I had died and you were an Angel.”

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t joking, not one bit, and that made you feel warm all over. “You truly find me beautiful?” You commented softly, watching as he began to eat. He nodded, wild hair bouncing as he focused on you again. “How could I not? Your beauty was enough to render be speechless.” You had to turn your gaze, if you kept looking at him you were certain you’d burst into flames. “If it says anything at all, Rengoku-san… I find you very handsome.” You met his gaze, eyes widening significantly when realized how red his face was turning.

By his third week there, the tension between the two of you had grown significantly. “Is something bothering you?” You swallowed, sitting on his bedside to begin dressing the wound that had landed him here. It was making steady progress healing wise but it still needed to be treated and re-bandaged every day. Your fingers ghosted over his side, just above the wound. He turned away, face red as he focused on the bed sheets. You had seen him shirtless every single day for the last three weeks. Now, he couldn't handle it without feeling some type of way. Not embarrassment... quite the opposite.

He wanted you to see more… feel more. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply before responding. “No… nothing is bothering me.” You weren’t content with that answer, packing gauze over the cut before grabbing more to begin wrapping. “Then why are you so avoidant all of a sudden?” You had to wonder if he felt it too… was that why he was withdrawing? “I…for your own sake.” He grounded out, face flushing a deep shade of crimson as he focused on his hand fisted in the sheets. “For my own sake? That sounds like you’re dangerous.” You teased, ignoring the way his knuckles turned white with the strength of his grip. “Maybe I am… I don’t know how to put this without crossing a line…” you stopped mid-wrap, looking up at him with a quirked brow.

“I think I know where you’re going with this Ren…no… Kyojuro.”

That got his attention back on you, eyes wide and lips parted. Again, he seemed too surprised to speak, so you carried on. "I like you... a lot. More than a friend, much more than that actually…” you wanted to scream how much you wanted him, hands shakily going back to wrapping. “Y/n…” his voice was lower than you’d ever heard it, your eyes peaking up at him through your lashes. “Hmm?” He was looking at you with flushed cheeks, pupils dilated. “I need you.” You didn’t need to ask him to clarify, the intentions were made loud and clear. “You’re still injured…and we’re in the infirmary… someone could hear… or see… I’m technically working…” What you really wanted to say is that it would be indecent of you to get fucked by your patient. “I don’t care. I need you.”

[seimorponekami]

as promised...a rengoku doodle dump!

I might take some of these and turn them into stickers or illusts c:

pls enjoy....

exploring different ways to draw his chibi in my style

Why is he so hard to draw????

(sorry for the awful photo quality, it's so dark in here aaaa)

(I misplaced a stack of these :cc I have to find them...)

[seimorponekami]

You’ve been unusually chipper around the house for the last week or so. Not that he’s complaining; he’ll take any opportunity he can to see his little birdie smiling. As long as you’re happy he won’t ever complain about it.

But he can’t help wondering just what makes you happy, and he finally gets his answer when you nearly topple over him in a rush to get to the door. You’re squealing when you see a package on your doorstep, fingers trembling as you haul it to the kitchen table and tear into the box, leaving scraps of paper and tape strewn across the surface.

Keigo’s eyes are trained on yours, the way your hands dive into the box, how your eyes lights up when you finally pull the contents out.

And it’s...him.

A plushie version. An actual stuffed toy of his hero self, about the same height as the palm of his hand. Complete with windswept blond hair, a dazzling smile, and two red wings stitched on the back.

“Aww, birdie, you shouldn’t have.” He’s quick to swoop you into his arms, large wings curling around your sides as he tugs you into his chest. Cocooning the two of you from the rest of the world. “A little plushie? I’m honored—nowhere near as good-looking as the real thing, but it’s still cute!”

You look so cute all flustered, voice stuttering in your throat, heart fluttering against his palm as you clutch the silly toy closer to your chest. You glance down at it, at its cute golden eyes and sunny smile, and your eyes begin to soften.

“...You don’t think it’s weird or anything, do you?” J

“Nah, not really! Although, I do wanna know why you’d choose to get this little guy,” he flicks a strand of the plushie’s golden hair, laughing out loud when you cradle it protectively against your body, “when you’ve already got this handsome devil in your bed every night.”

You swallow hard, leaning into the warmth of his chest, snuggling into him when he secures his arms (and wings) around your body. He leans in close when you finally speak, eager to hear every word you have to say.

“It’s just...for those nights when you’re not here... And I’m not blaming you or anything, I know you have your job and all your hero duties! I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. I know you have to stay out pretty late sometimes, and you can’t always make it back home and that's totally fine—”

Your cheeks are burning, heart lodged deep in your throat, your hands squeezing around the plushie pressed against your chest. Keigo remains silent, and for a moment you wonder if you've said the wrong thing.

If he suddenly thinks less of you for getting such a stupid toy in the first place.

“...I know, it’s a stupid reason. Go ahead, you can make fun of me. I won't be—mmph!”

You yelp out when he spins you in his arms, his hands warm against the small of your back, the silly toy pressed between your chests. He leans in for a kiss, soft and sweet, his red wings curling around your body. You've always loved how safe and protected they make you feel; you know nothing can hurt you, as long as your in his arms (and wings).

“I don't think it’s stupid at all, birdie.” Another kiss on your lips, before moving up to your forehead. “In fact, I think it’s adorable! Nice to know you love me so much to buy my merch,” he adds with a wink, and your face heats up when you remember the little ensemble of merch hidden away in your bedroom. Shirts, magazines, even a couple of action figures you found at a reasonable price. Oh, and don’t forget the poster you had before you even met him—the same one he oh-so generously signed for you once you started dating.

And now this damn plushie, that’s still smiling up at you as you hold it to your chest.

But if he’s being honest, Keigo feels his shoulders sag just a bit, seeing you cuddle up to such a small toy. He can’t always be there to protect you, to hold you on those lonely nights, to give you the comfort you so desperately crave. But if you’re able to get it from this little replica of his hero self, he can feel a little better about those late night missions and dangerous rescues. As long as he knows you’re fast asleep at home, safe and sound with your arms around this little plushie.

Oh, and as long as you don’t start to love that plushie more than you love him.

[seimorponekami]

eat | r. kyojuro

summary: sometimes, you forget to.

genres: fluff, humor

cw: language, suggestive, short

He knows.

He fucking knows. Of course, he always does. As if he has a radar explicitly tuned to you, alerting him whenever you fall into a pit of melancholy.

‘Darling,’ your smartwatch reads on your wrist. You ignore it, though the blue glow is distracting in your peripheral. You squint against its brilliance, a migraine blooming on the horizon.

You’ll get to him when you can. Work looms over your shoulders—due outs from a meeting that utterly reamed you. You’d like to leave before the sun sets, so you must update this slideshow now.

A minute skates by before another buzz to your wrist, and—

“What, Kyo?” you grouse, frustration clinging to your features. You don’t mean to lash out. You haven’t had the chance to eat yet; your stomach is tying itself in knots.

‘Have you eaten, my love?’ reads another message. He knows you better than anyone. You can hear the low gravel of his voice, petering with concern. Envision his brows furrowing and his lips forming into a frown.

He worries about you, the gnarling feeling in your gut growing tenfold. You hate when he does this. He has his own set of issues to battle with each day—the life of a college professor isn’t without its drawbacks.

You sigh, your lip pulled between your teeth. Debate on whether to tell him the truth. Not in the mood for another lecture, having had enough of it from your superiors.

Turning off your watch's display, the furious clacking of your keyboard inhabits the empty office anew. You’ll eat. You promise. Just have to get through one more—

‘My love.’ He’s insistent, your watch aglow with his name flanked by flaming hearts. You sigh defeatedly, expanding his message.

‘I know that you are ignoring me. And I know that you have yet to eat. I can practically hear your stomach from here.’

As if on cue, your stomach murmurs its discontent. You pat your traitorous belly, a pout taking possession of your lips.

‘You don’t know me,’ you haughtily scrawl back.

Kyo’s response is instantaneous, drawing a snort from your nose. ‘Why, I know you like the back of my hand, darling! Which is why I had a tasty meal delivered to your desk!’

The look on your face is quizzical. You roll your shoulders, averting your attention to your monitor. He’s pulling your leg. Has to be. Yet, when a distant rustling sound cuts through the stillness of the office, you sit ramrod stiff in your chair. Using your notebook as a shield, you duck behind it as the crinkling grows nearer.

A wood-grilled scent invades your nostrils, followed by footsteps rounding your desk. Drawn out by the savory aroma, you peer atop your book at the source of it. To your surprise, a portly man holds a tied, white bag in his stubby hands towards you.

“UberEats order for Misses…” He studies your name scribbled on the receipt whilst slowly working out the consonants of it.

“Uh…thank…you?” you say, warily accepting the bag. The driver disappears as quickly as he came, leaving you at the mercy of your infuriated tummy.

It smells divine, permeating through the plastic, condensation already collecting on it. Saliva puddles in your cheeks whilst you eye the offending bag.

Your smartwatch chimes again. The assertiveness of your husband’s voice shines even through his text. ‘Eat, my love. Work can wait. Your well-being cannot.’

You need no more permission, tearing into the bag with zero abandon. You waste no time digging your fork into your favorite meal, appreciative tears gathering in your lashes. Between shoveling food into your mouth, you take out your phone to punch in a ‘thank you 🥹🥹🥹’ to your husband.

Whilst you do a happy jig, hearts swarming like a halo overhead, your phone vibrates on your desk with a notification. You cheerily retrieve it, not at all prepared for what awaits you on the screen. You choke, heat spilling across your skin as you pound on your chest to dislodge food from your trachea.

‘You must replenish your strength! You will need it for the evening I have planned for you. 😏’

The photo of spreader bars and a flogger adorning your bedsheets was a bit much, wasn’t it?

[seimorponekami]

[seimorponekami]

@renhoeku made me do it.

cw: explicit content, crack

“K-Kyojuro,” you mewled, your eyes aglow.

“Shh,” he whispered, a slender finger held to your lips. Your silence seemed to sate him. The blond bent down to eye-level with a smile canting his lips, clasping your chin, drawing your gaze to his. “Do you trust me?” he murmured against your mouth, eyes half-slit like Cheshire Cat.

You were dizzy from the heat rolling off his skin. From his sweltering breath, hints of sour cream and onion clinging to it. Were those chives? You were too horny to care. You nodded drunkenly, painting a hazy triangle between his eyes and mouth. He grinned in reply, nails blazing a slothful trail down the column of your throat.

“Goooood giiiirl.” His praise never failed to make your tummy flutter. Or perhaps it was gas. Nevertheless, Kyojuro had taken an interest in a lock of your hair, twirling it between his index and thumb. Your cooter-cat throbbed, baring down on the neon-pink silicone egg nestled within. “Shall I tell you what I intend to do to you, then?”

“Y-Yes,” you exhaled, falling further into his web, his breath causing vertigo to sweep through you.

“We’ll, my love. Firstly, I am going to stick my 🍆 in your 🥙.”

You blinked against a lazy wash of pleasure, unsure of what you’d just heard. “W-What?” Confusion hung between your brows, the amorous air waning.

“Secondly, I want to 💦 🔫🐬 until you 🫧.”

“Kyojuro, wait. Wait, what the fu—”

“And then, my love! Oh-ho-ho! Then, I plan to 🤌🏼🤌🏼 your 🌭 until you ☄️ while I’m—”

“Kyojuro, stop it! You’re scaring—”

Dolphin sounds ensue.

[seimorponekami]

for mermay

[seimorponekami]

when you’re intimidated by your mutuals but you reblog their posts

[seimorponekami]

I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.

That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”

Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can – characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.

This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years – if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.

Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me – a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels – the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form – what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just…fucking suck.

The WGA is proposing two things to fix this – a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.

[seimorponekami]

not reading wips feels anti-fanfiction to me. and i don't mean that in a "so you're a bad person if you don't read them" kinda way. do what you want. but i also feel, that you are completely missing the point. with fanfiction you're supposed to come along for the ride. the epic highs and lows of highschool football. the comment sections. the conversations. the theories. the "sorry i didn't update last week i was abducted by aliens and then my cat got stuck in a tree." LIKE. if you just want a story that's fully finished and polished go to a bookstore. fanfic is an EXPERIENCE. and ALSO. participating in the process is part of the way you make fanfic writing worth while. it's part of how you thank authors. like why would anyone write fanfiction if no one was going to interact with them until it was done? it again feels like a way that fanfiction is being eaten by consumer culture. you're waiting for your product. but this is supposed to be a club. you don't turn up to drama club like "where's my play bitch?" NO ma'am. we're supposed to paint these cardboard trees together. ok. i may have lost control of this metaphor. BUT YOU GET IT.

[seimorponekami]

- 𝕃𝕠𝕥𝕦𝕤. -

𝔸𝕔𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖.

✿ 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 ~ It's finally done! I first started this in Febuary and now I'm offically finished with it! Writer's block (and crimpling doubt about my abilities towards my writing) had me in a chokehold for the past few months, but today I managed to shake it off a little and try and finish this once and for all. I did enjoy writing this for what it's worth though! Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments, I'm curious to hear your thoughts. Also, also, if you'd like to check out my other pieces some of which are pretty old as well as my current work check out my writing blog! It's linked here ↝ ✿ Also, also, also, if you like read act one and act two to this story first (I highly recommend you do that so this makes sense and so you can enjoy it at it's fullest) it's linked here! ↝ ✿ Act two is here ↝ ✿

✿ 𝖧𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀!

✿Tagging ~ @potofstewie @wanderingfaee @mitsuris-pussy @comatosebunny09 @cherrykamado @atobler19 @gingerspicelattemix @seimorponekami (you might all enjoy this!)

✿ ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕖 ~ Never land - Zeph

✿ 𝔻𝕖𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ~

𝕃𝕒𝕕𝕪-𝕚𝕟-𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 ~ A lady-in-waiting or court lady is a female personal assistant at a court, attending on a royal woman or a high-ranking noblewoman.

ℂ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖 ~ is a stiff or structured petticoat designed to hold out a woman's skirt, popular at various times since the mid-19th century.

ℂ𝕠𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕤 ~ A coat of arms is a symbol that represents a specific family or person. Originally appearing on shields or flags, coats of arms were once used as a way of distinguishing one knight from another on a battlefield.

𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕒 ~ Serradura dessert or Sawdust pudding is one of the easiest traditional Portuguese desserts to make. A crowd-pleaser, this simple no-bake Portuguese dessert is made with Maria biscuits, condensed milk, whipped cream, and vanilla extract.

𝕋𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕪 ~ These are sporting events in which two knights (or two groups of knights) jousted on horseback with blunted weapons, each trying to knock the other off, the winner receiving a prize.

𝔸𝕔𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 ~ 𝔸 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥.

“The air in here is wonderful, my lady.” 

 My gaze wandered the flowers in the conservatory. “I trust that you feel more at ease now, yes?”

_____ nodded, keeping her pace towards the flowers. She lifted  the hem of her dress to hop across the slim crystalline stream.

The Conservatory was beautiful during the day, but even more so during the night. Violet rays of the night danced along the stain-glass panes, flora here grew in abundance, contributing to the room’s romantic air. A collection of scents and colours formed the most beautiful piece of art, and _____ stood right in the middle of it all, having found her rightful place on the floral canvas. The moon’s eye fell on her teal gown, making it look as though it sparkled with moonlight with every step she took. 

I’d often find myself venturing here with the princess. She almost always seemed to be contemplating something when she did. Probably something political. Worry would dawn her doe-like eyes while her lips would curve to a weary pout.

I’d often find her staring quite intently at whatever bundle of flowers she was in front of. It was almost as though they’d suddenly jump up and scamper off if she wasn’t looking. 

 Her mother’s illness had deflated her. Leaving her with limited time to come to terms with being solely responsible for the future of our nation. I know that we have no control over when illness arises. It comes to everyone and that’s the truth but, in recent times ______ seemed so… lost. And when she’s lost, she’d decide to do the safest thing. The things she believed would make her court and the rest of the kingdom happy as crowned princess. 

She’d lose all sense of self and mimic her mother. 

I lingered a few metres behind my lady, wandering behind her as her knightly shadow while she watched the flowers as she did many times before. Perhaps talking to flowers was another ability she had that she never told me about. 

“Are you going to give me a reason why you left the festivities?” I asked, lending my weight on top of the beams of the central pavilion. 

Not lifting her gaze, _____ rolled her lips inward. She took a deep breath before she replied-

“I’d rather not, thanks.” 

Hm. 

“Do I have to pry it out of you then, your highness?”

_____ yanked her gaze away from the bundle of tulips. Her inky brows furrowed forming a cautionary bridge on her temple.

Well, I suppose that did it.

____ fiddled with her fingers. I watched her mind churn to choose the words she’d say next. “I’m… worried, Kyojuro.” She mumbled. “About the festival.”

I titled my head to the side. From what I could tell the event was going without incident. I remember from books written, that during the occasion the crowned royal must remain safe as the likelihood of attacks on the royal family tends to increase during the fourteen days of Lotus festival. I’ve had the knights under my command patrol the palace grounds long before the holiday began, thus leaving the responsibility of watching over the princess to myself, to counter any attempts to hurt her. Thankfully nothing has been reported to me, but I still refuse to let down my guard. …Perhaps it had something to do with her mother?

“I’m not quite sure… I understand my lady—” “Look up, Kyojuro!” _____ squeaked, her heels creating creaking sounds from her pacing. “The sign from the gods still hasn’t come yet! Was my offering not good enough? What if they don’t rekindle our promise? What then?!” 

Under the eye of the moon, _______ took another shaky breath in. Her eyes looked as though they were made of glass. Brittle and twinkling with the threat of tears.

I suppose that the sign was taking a while, but I don’t imagine it made much difference to her mother when she made the offering at the previous gala. Besides, we were still ways away from sunrise. 

I wish she didn’t doubt herself like that, nor that she’d hide within herself whenever she was troubled. 

I have been trying to make sure that she knows that she could confide in me whenever she needed to and it’s worked somewhat, but still. I need to try harder, for her sake.

 “You know, your highness. I’ve also experienced similar worries.” I said. 

_____ paused and stared. 

“Well, not exactly like yours— l-let me explain.” I cleared my throat. “I believe that you and I are not so different in some regards. The legacy my forefathers left behind long ago is now left to me to uphold. To strive to be even half the pillars they were requires tremendous amounts of work.”

That’s right. This sense of duty was embedded into my mind since childhood. To keep the Rengoku lineage alive, to have our name continue to bask in honour as it has done now for thousands of years. While my father was away, my mother would tell me and my then baby brother, stories of my father and grandfather and their duties to the kingdom. From the ventures made alongside comrades to the timeless battles fought for the kingdom… It was all fascinating. Over time I began to see my journey towards knighthood more clearly. I’d ask my father to train whenever he was home. There were occasions where I remember catching the slightest hint of hesitation in my father’s eyes.

I don’t think it was that he didn’t believe in me, no, it was more so that he was worried. 

Just as there was a sense of accomplishment on the path to becoming one of the pillars to the crown, there were hardships as well. 

Not returning home being one.

I wanted to assure my family that I had what it took and put my all into my training. So when I signed up and rose the ranks nigh effortlessly, my family was thrilled— I was thrilled. Through the trials I had made friends. They were both my brothers and sisters in arms. We had experienced so much together and with being much younger then, we thought we were unstoppable. 

Until about seven years ago.

There was an attack on three of the western outposts. Treasure hoarders. Supposedly, an informant had told them there were goods not yet transported further into the kingdom to be found there if they’d look. Their operation was intricate, reasonably thought out. Prior to making their assault, they knocked out most of the patrol guards if not killing them. 

After having caught light of the situation at the western border, we made haste. Though it happened so long ago, I remember the chain of events like it had occurred moments ago. Chaos. A spiralling storm of flame, bloodshed and death. Before the mania of it all, someone failed to inform us of something. There had been a third party. Lingering in the shadows, they took advantage of the distraction and went in search of the item. So not only did we lose most of our siblings in arms, we failed to keep the treasured goods safe. 

Something my father told me plagued my mind weeks after the incident. 

“Your friends… who laughed and drank with you the day before— are likely to end up dead the next.”

The incident brought about questions that I hadn’t thought about during my youth. I realised that my father was right. This line of work has no shortage of loss and mourning, and only those who could endure it all would be given the title of pillar. 

“I see… I’m sorry you had to experience that while so young, Kyojuro.” _____ said. Her eyes flickered away. “It must’ve been horrible…”

Earnesty dwelled in the princess’s voice, spreading its warmth around the confines of my heart.

“I decided to tell you that story because I wanted you to know that we are both bound by duty and we share instances where we wonder if we’re good enough, if we could ever hold a candle to those who came before us.”

_______ hummed. No larger than a wind spirit, a tune sent away to lands unknown. Warmth continued to radiate from her a smile replacing the threat of tears.

“Over time,” I continued. “I had to learn to trust in myself and in my abilities just as much as the loved ones who supported me did. What I thought of as flaws were just unique traits that required nurturing, so don’t sell yourself short. You’re far more capable than you know! Look at what you’ve done so far? Why do you choose to forget what amazing things you’ve done already?”

Perhaps this was inappropriate, but in the moment it didn’t seem to matter. 

I held ____’s hands. Not particularly surprised at how much smaller and softer they felt in mine. Music from the festivities slithered in through window panes, its melody feathery and light due to our distance from its source.

“Would… you like to dance, your highness?” 

The princess’ smile faltered a little, her gaze scurrying away to a shrub growing not far from where we stood. “Ah, I’m not sure about that, apologies for my humming. That might have given me away.”

“I don’t see the need for apologies! Surely, you know how to dance, no?”

______ giggled, raising her hand to my shoulder. “Well, my good knight, I’ll have you know that I have two left feet, so this dance won’t be as gracious as you think it will be.”

I grinned. “Ah, well, your highness I’ll have you know that I have two right feet, so I think we’ll balance each other perfectly.”

“Didn’t you mention that you were taught when you were young?” 

“Well, yes— but never mind that!”

“Mhm... right, right.”

Our fingers intertwined, my other hand cupped the princess’s clothed waist. There was a moment’s pause before I began leading our dance. My movements were slow at first, deliberate so I could get a gauge on her highness’ skill for dance. The tender flow of music effortlessly took us both.  _______’s eyes remained fixed on her feet, following my movements with utmost focus. It was difficult to hold back a chuckle.

Another endearing quality to her highness.

Together we made our way around the conservatory, twirling around the display of lush flora the royal family has preserved for centuries. Our bodies rocked in toe with the music, under a floral arch, then another and another. In time, the princess gained confidence in her movements and lifted her gaze. Mesmerising is the way I’d describe them. Enamoring me the way gold and jewels would capture and enchant a covetous dragon. Enticing it with its glow to never let it out of its sight. 

Why… am I having such thoughts?

She is to be queen one day and I am her guard. I shouldn’t be thinking about her gaze, or her star lit smile or her touch. 

She’d far… far sooner be interested in another man of similar calibre and love him.

Yes... that’s right. 

She should love a man deserving of her grace. Someone who’d keep her safe, adore her oddities, make her laugh…

She… shouldn’t settle for anything less.

Sharpness of a pointed object punctured my lungs, carving a bloody path to my heart. A dragged exhale left me, my lips rolled inward only to spill out a small chuckle moments later to _____’s  playful antics. 

I musn’t crack— not in front of her.

“Oh my, Kyojuro look! T-the goddesses! They’ve responded!” ______ squealed, elation enveloping her every feature. 

When my gaze reached the sky there they were— the approval of the gods. Streaks of seafoam and coral coloured light paved the inky skies. Curving and bending like rivers of magic, winding their way into my soul and granting me with a sense of peace that was unfamiliar to me. The pace of my heart quickened when I finally took my gaze from the skies and gazed over at my lady. I was glad that her attention was fixated on the light display in the sky because I was sure that the warmth in my cheeks was probably bright enough to compete with it.

“I… did it. Didn’t I?” She finally spoke.

“Yes your highness, you did.” I said, offering her a smile. “You should be proud—”

Before I could finish, _____ leapt into my arms, coiling her arms around my neck while burying her face at its juncture. I could feel her smile on my skin. For a moment I stood motionless, my hands at my sides before I steadily guided them to her waist to hold her.

Must she make this so pain-stakingly difficult?

“M-my lady, please. I understand you’re happy, but you surprised me….” I gulped, my hands descended ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t jump into people’s arms like that!”

Supposedly amused, _____ chuckled, whispering a candy laced apology to my tender warm ears, effortlessly lodging all of my muscles into place. 

I don’t know how much longer I can take this.

“B-but as I was saying,” I continued. “I believe you should be proud of yourself and your efforts. Clearly, your worry was misplaced.” 

_____ pulled finally away from me. Regret stirred in my stomach as she parted from me, but I quickly squashed it. 

“Yes… perhaps it was.” She began, her face now filled with ease. “Do you hear it, Kyojuro?”

“Hear what, my lady?”

“The citizens, for one.” _____ smiled, placing her hand on her heart. “Their happiness makes me happy. But if you listen close, you’ll hear something else. A melody— different from the one at the ball, playing just for the two of us.

✿ Like what you read? Consider reblogging and commenting! It supports me as a writer and gets my work further out there.

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If you'd like to request a commissioned comfort letter from your chosen character, please check if there are any slots available on my - 𝔼𝕥𝕤𝕪

- 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 -

❀ 𝔸𝕟 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 ⚘ ꕤ 𝕀𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚘ ❁ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟

[seimorponekami]

I hate to start writing with the mindset that "oh it will be something short" and write a paragraph that I really feel and know, right then and there that I’ll have to make it a series or that it’ll probably be more than 5k

[seimorponekami]

I opened my gallery so fast! I guess we're a match made in heaven. (Birds of a feather if you will. 😀)

Thank you for tagging me, @auraee!~

(He's even holding the papers. The man really is too fast.)

Tag, you're it! - @cartoonfuel @apotheosis-of-absurdity

KSKSJSLSKSKLASIIS OKAY GENOS-

I'D NEVER SAY NO TO U 🤚

Tagging: @kingkyoujurou @presidentmonica @laudthingcat @kampfkuchen85 @cherrykamado @bxbycake @happygoluckyalexis @tonaken + anyone who wants to <3

[seimorponekami]

Early game tattletale traveller hshsb

[seimorponekami]

I hate it here. You know how Keigo’s dub voice actor did a McDonald’s ad? YOU KNOW KEIGO VOICES A WINGSTOP AD— YOU KNOW HE DOES. This fuckers voice is the automated message when you call the place and he’s the voice over for the commercials. He doesn’t tell you about this little gig and when you find out you’re left staring at him in bewilderment.

You go to call the restaurant so you can place a pick up order for the both of you. Neither of you were cooking so take out was the only option. With your back turned towards him, you walk off to get some privacy so you don’t fuck up your order. When the automated greeting starts up, you’re shocked to hear Keigo’s voice. Turning on your heel to face him, you see his little shit eating grin and the flapping of those little wings.

“Like what I did?” You hear him say.

Before you could answer, an actual person behind the counter called out for you, ready to take your order. Nonverbally, you answer him by sending him a wide smile, doing a little dance for his cute little opportunity. He matches your energy, dancing with you.

[seimorponekami]

My heart hurts but uggggggg... I love this.

What if you and this male character had an argument or maybe they were just stressed or he was already pissed off and you manage to mess up a bit so he let out his frustrations on you. Words that he didn’t mean spew out of his mouth till he said the words he didn’t mean the most.

“I wish you would just disappear”

You were hurt well hurt was an understatement. It was the last thing you wish to hear from your husband’s mouth. So you left not taking anything with you. You weren’t angry you were hurt, you weren’t the type to slam the door shut. The last thing you told him was a soft “I’m sorry” as you closed the door softly. He never bothered to chase after you. He just went to your shared bedroom and slept expecting for you to come back, sleep next to him and the two of would reconcile tomorrow.

But that never came he woke up without you next to him. The home you shared feels off, feels eerie then he realised all your belongings are no where to be seen. He panicked and dialled your number but it was someone else who answered the call. His heart was thumping fast thinking you left him for good while he was sleeping and took everything with you. He asked your friends but they didn’t know who you were even went to the house where your parents lived but it was owned by someone else too. He was confused, he thinks he was going insane, he thought he was being pranked, pranked by the cruelest joke. It was like you disappeared from this world, that you never existed. That thought dawned on him, those last words he told you, the shock and hurt in your eyes as he said those god awful words, that he wished for you to disappear. He refused to believe you disappeared. You couldn’t have, you married him, the both of you exchanged rings.

He looked at his ring finger, and froze, the band that signifies your union and promise to each other was not there but he never took it off, he never did. He was sure you’re real, he IS sure everything he had done with you IS real but why aren’t they there? why aren’t you there?. He wanted to make sense to everything, anything that could’ve led to your disappearance, why everyone you know were confused who you were. He couldn’t help but feel defeated and cry on your shared/his bed. How can a lie be the truth. It was all a lie, every hurtful things he said to you were just in the heat of the moment, he didn’t mind your shortcomings like how you are to him. He wants you back, heck he’ll even pray and beg to God to give you back, to grovel at Gods feet to give everything back to him. He’ll do anything just to give you back to him.

Imma stop right here

Idk why I wrote this but feel free to use it ig???

[seimorponekami]

- 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦. -

✼ 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 ~ This one of my unfinshing works! I remember writing about this a while ago. This one is rather personal, I'm not entirely sure if people would want to read this on account of a specific chronic illness being put on to the MC, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. I'll browse around my docs to see if I find anything else...

✼ Happy reading!

Breathe.

Focus on something— anything.

Calm yourself.

The tick tick tick of our bedroom clock merged with the thump thump thump of my frantic pulse.

Has... the clock always ticked that fast?

Wonderful, now I’m losing my mind now too. I felt myself drift, my heavy eyelids threatening to close while a malevolent cobra constricted my throat, coiling its slithery body around my limbs to keep my aching trembling body at bay, as though it had waited all day in the corner of our bedroom to carry out its plan.

Remember... Do Not shut your eyes. 

The warm plastic of my blue inhaler grazed my fingers. I had already taken it. I just had to wait until it took effect. It was sure as hell taking forever. Accursed lungs. A wheezed cough slipped from my lips.

Kyojuro stirred in his sleep, his hand absently patting the plush space I had been occupying, but then, he stopped. I watched him, his eyes moments from closing when, quite generously (and thankfully), Kyojuro decided to blink.

“_-____? Is everything alright, love? Oh god—”

I’d imagine the snake must have had a brother that had given Kyojuro a pretty painful nip in the ankle, the man leapt out of bed was by my side on our bedroom sofa in seconds. 

Alarmed marigold eyes darted around my body before taking a moments pause on the inhaler at my side.

“______! I’ll call the ambulance. We need to take you to the hospital now.”

Like what you read? Consider reblogging and commenting! It supports me as a writer and gets my work further out there.

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- 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 -

❀ 𝔸𝕟 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 ⚘ ꕤ 𝕀𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚘ ❁ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟

If you’re just going to like this post— don’t. Likes don’t do anything for me. They don’t help in any way shape or form. So please don’t like this if you’re not willing to reblog the post as well.