flash-exchange

[flash-exchange]

The interest in our event has exceeded our expectations -- thank you so much!

All available slots for new participants have been filled. Until the next round 😉

[flash-exchange]

Experience the flash of inspiration with us during the third edition of In a Flash Creation Challenge! Newbies or veterans, anyone is welcome to join!

► Fandoms: Open to all ► Duration: until the end of February 2025

In a Flash CC is an event we host along the Ikemen Flash Exchange. We hope to enable wild creativity, foster opportunities for feedback and collaborations, and to have a grand ol' time making friends!

► Entries

Writing: 450-650 (+/- 50 words)

Art: anything that would count as lower effort than your usual work; colour is okay

Other creative inputs (moodboards, wallpapers, playlists, videos, edits, etc.) are welcome.

Additionally, for legal adults only, we've prepared a space to create NSFW and suggestive works. We have chosen to blacklist certain themes (more details below the cut).

We reserve the right to refuse inappropriate submissions.

► Prompt List

The challenge prompt list expands each month. >:)

The November drop includes My Companions is a Cat, and Heart of Hearts... among others. Join us and see it for yourself!

► How & where?

The In a Flash CC is hosted in the IFE discord server. Participants gain access to a channel containing all the relevant event information, a support chat, and a channel for sharing their creations.

Do let us know if you decide to post them on Tumblr too -- we'd love to shine our spotlight on them!

► How do I join?

Shoot us an ask to join our discord server! You must be off anon. Then, follow the steps written in the #announcements channel.

We’ll be waiting for you! >:)

Got any questions? Do not hesitate to shoot us an ask!

Boosting would be appreciated! 🙏

►Works - Blacklist

Age play,

Consensual Non-consent, including rape play,

Dead Dove Do Not Eat,

Dub-con of any kind,

Gore,

Incest,

Necrophilia,

Non-con of any kind,

Paedophilia,

Somnophilia,

Vore.

[flash-exchange]

Easter Egg wallpapers prepared for the last round of @flash-exchange by yours truly >:) 2/3

[flash-exchange]

Easter Egg wallpapers prepared for the last round of @flash-exchange by yours truly >:) 1/3

[flash-exchange]

Ikemen @flash-exchange piece for @venulus 🫶

[flash-exchange]

It's been 3 years of IFE @flash-exchange now ;--;

7 gift exchanges. 3 creation challenges (including a trial run in our server).

Wheels of Fate, or our semi-permanent mini-game. (My beloved. Coming up with the outfit inspo chart was too much fun.)

Twilight Fair, when we chose a path through a cursed fair together. (Will we ever escape from it?)

Postcards from suitors and the Summer Excavation that followed. (AKA that one time we decided to make an excavator-themed gift exchange with prompts featuring your summer inconveniences. Literally. We asked. Because who says that "AC who?", "Cockroaches" and "Stuck in traffic jam" cannot make for great gifts.)

IkeLympics, or that one time we forced Leonardo to compete against Edgar... In Figure Scavenging through Dumpsters... (Other suitors suffered too.)

The Fair Returns! You've got it right! We were pulled into the Fair again, this time with studio Ghibli music playing in the background...

... And at the end of our journey, we were met by our own Franken-suitor!

And many more ;--; Goodness. You guys, I'm getting teary-eyed.

[flash-exchange]

So, Ikemen flash exchange!

Many thanks for Duck Parents for organization.

(Posting a bit later bc uni & ADHD is not a good combination 🙈)

Recipient: M is for Mistake (Myara)

Character(s): Keith Howell (IkePri)

Prompt(s): Demon

[flash-exchange]

Participated another Ikemen Flash Exchange @flash-exchange and oh gosh it's been 3 years & my 5th exchange under IFE!!!

My gift for @spoopy-fish-writes. Made Kenshin (Ikesen) with the prompt "I'm a soldier, not a sick bunny puppy".

Because we all need Kenshin to be vulnerable so we can take care of him :3

This banner is so cute~

[flash-exchange]

Spirit of Sadness*

Can't believe it's already the third anniversary of the @flash-exchange 💛 This is my gift for lovely @rinaririr. I hope it will remind you how strong and talented you are!

Character: Leonardo

Prompt: You cannot see the light without darkness

*the title of Le Gallienne's poem

Today is that day. 

Human life iridesces like a diamond in the sun. Versatile, bright and eternally beautiful. But when the rain comes, even gems get dirt on them. 

You can't call yourself a sad person. Surely, life gives you lots of lemons, but somehow you’ve learned to make the very best lemonade out of them. Most of the time, at least. 

Yet, sometimes days like this occur. When suddenly the last pack of sugar is gone, and lemons are sour. When the rainfall turns the golden forest in front of Comte’s mansion into a mess of dirty green and ochre. When the brush in your hand no longer follows your command no matter how much you dip it into the deep blueness of oil paints. 

Covering your face with your hands, you try to find a specific rhythm to breathe. Darkness makes your senses stronger, ears and nose catching what eyes can't see. The sound of old wooden clocks. The cracking of the fireplace. Time runs but moves nowhere, so you give yourself permission to cry, warming icy hands with hot tears.

A sudden rush of wind brings you the smell of wet leaves and the melancholy of autumn. Being forced to hang in the air for a split second, you end up in the comfort of your lover's embrace, covered from tip to toe with his endlessly long, endlessly wide coat.   

“He’s caught in the rain. That's why the scent of cigarillos didn't warn me of his presence,” is the only rational thought produced by your tired mind.

“What’s happened?” he sounds unbothered. His long calloused fingers are playing with your hair, a habit he shows when feels nervous.

You’re searching for the right words to come, and Leonardo gladly gives you as much time as you need, lulling you with deep murmuring and gentle touches. 

At some point you accept your defeat and say what’s been on your mind for quite a long time.

“It’s just that sometimes I feel so much doing so little. Today I haven’t drawn a single sketch. But time goes by, and I feel as if it leaves me behind, while others live their lives to the fullest.”

Wiping a tear, you continue.

“And it makes me feel so guilty, so ashamed of myself. The world is full of so many problems that are way more important than mine. Still, I can't get rid of this pain, and it scares me that someday…this dark feeling will never leave.”

You’ve run out of words, and the last of them vanish in the air like the sound of cork pulling out of an emptied bottle. The silence isn't uncomfortable, and you’re grateful that Leonardo allows you to come to yourself.  

The room becomes less dark when he lights a cigarette, creating a puff of sweet smoke. The man’s deep voice sounds like a lullaby, and you press yourself closer to his wide chest, where it’s safe, where it's home.

“I’m an engineer, cara mia, and hardly know a thing about art and stuff.”

A weak smile, the only one you’ve had on this never ending day, carves your lips.

“...but lemme say this. No vehicle is safe to use if you ignore the rumble. Humans are way more difficult than vehicles. And so are their feelings. Learn to accept them, reveal them, that's the only way you don't destroy yourself from within. Happiness doesn't come when sadness is neglected.”

“So, in other words…you cannot see the light without darkness?” you mumble, enjoying the feeling of his voice, scent, words and touch getting through your skin.

A hoarse chuckle is your response. “Couldn’t say it better. You’re good with your words, principessa.”

You slowly sink into the healing yet still so painful abyss of dreams, listening to the melody of Leonardo’s heartbeat. His arms are on your waist, warm, almost hot. Lumiere’s tail tickles your legs. The night is finally kind. 

There are indeed days when you have to face your demons. But if you have people ready to stand with you no matter what, then this battle is worth fighting.   

[flash-exchange]

Tails Of Trouble

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Mitsuhide Akechi x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Cursed

Word Count: 666

A/N: An easter egg for the Ikemen Flash Exchange, The Fair Returns event; hosted by @flash-exchange.

Something was amiss, something was strange, something was not right.

His body felt far too tight; skin taut over dense, large bones. They had an unfamiliar weight than usual, pressing against vital organs, constricting the path of air to his lungs, he had to drag in every breath. Even the air in his room was unbearable. Too much for his senses — the aroma of his mild woody and sweet incense seemed sharp for his nose. The wisp of smoke curling above the dimmed oil lamp burned his eyes.

Now, Mitsuhide was not one to be frightened so easily, yet whatever was happening to him had thoroughly scared him.

In reflex, his hand reached out to touch the other side of his futon, where his lover slept. He was relieved to sense the warmth radiating through their sleepwear. Indeed, they were with him. With a shaky sigh, he moved closer and pushed away the stray hair falling in front of their closed eyes.

Before he could take a moment to admire their sleeping face, he noticed something furry where his hand should be.

White and small, with sharp black claws. Mitsuhide turned it around, it did not have fingers. It was not a hand; it was a paw… An animal paw. Eerily similar to Chimaki’s, he knew very well since he had tended to her injured ones multiple times. Mitsuhide proceeded to look down, he had a matching pair of paws down there as well, with a fluffy tail.

An undignified yelp echoed in his room. The sound was piercing for his ears, so he scrambled back, or tried to at least. His limbs were tangled up in their shared blanket. The more he moved, the more he got tangled, though finally, he escaped the blanket’s maze and landed outside the futon, and on his sensitive tail. As expected — another pitiful yelp had escaped his mouth.

Once Mitsuhide caught his breath, he looked up for a brief moment, only to be greeted with sleep-laden eyes that soon widened with shock.

Oh, and now he had disturbed his little one’s sleep. How shameful. Not wanting to show more of his new appearance, Mitsuhide ran out of the room and hid behind the shoji.

“Mitsuhide? Is that you?” his lover asked. Though he wanted to answer, he held himself back.

After what seemed like seconds, Mitsuhide’s ears could pick up the distinct sharp sound of a fire-striker being used, followed by a soft thud. Their room was now lit, and he could see the telltale shadow of his lover, slowly moving out of the futon.

His lover was astute as ever and figured out his hiding spot. They crept towards the shoji. “Mitsuhide… Are you alright?” they asked, with concern, standing on the opposite side.

Again, he did not answer. If he did, all that would come out of his mouth would be loud barks and screams.

“You know, you’re not hiding that well. I can see your tail,” they said. “Moving it away doesn’t change the fact that I saw it! Not good at hide and seek are you, my dear?”

Mitsuhide did not like the teasing tone that his lover used, he could tell that they were having a blast laughing, and their shadow was shaking far too much. With a yelp, he padded out from behind the shoji and glared hard.

“Awe, looks like my husband is angry,” they smiled and cradled his body. “I’m just as confused as you are. I can’t believe my kitsune has turned into an actual kitsune!” Mitsuhide bit their finger in response, lightly so as not to break skin.

His little one fake frowned and flicked at his nose. “Behave yourself Mitsuhide, otherwise I’ll let you be stuck as a fox forever!” To placate his love, Mitsuhide licked at the finger he bit. “That’s more like it. Tomorrow I’ll ask Kyubei to find a good curse-lifting monk, they should be able to help you. Meanwhile, you’re stuck being my pillow.”

If you wish to be notified via tags whenever I post something, join my tag list here by answering the form

Ikesen taglist: @yarnnerdally @natimiles

[flash-exchange]

My gift for @cheese-ception for the @flash-exchange

Title: Heart's Desire

Starring: Yves and Emma

Prompt: Magical Bakery

WC: 700 Words

CW: Might make you hungry

Yves can bake pastries that make dreams come true... for everyone but himself.

Legend whispers of a bakery...

The whispers aren’t about the food, although everyone agrees the baker’s offerings taste delicious:  cakes piped with lacey buttercream, tarts with crusts so flaky they melt in the mouth, and exotic and mysterious truffles.

Nor does the legend center on the delicate good looks of Yves the baker, his deep blue eyes, eyes that hint of hidden sadness. Many a young woman (and a few young men) sighed over him. But this too is not the Legend.

Legend has it that those who eat here are granted their hearts’ desire.

A widow reunited with her first love… a clerk received a promotion… a childless couple discovered they were to become parents. Even tiny wishes were granted, as when a child found her lost kitten.

The legend grew until Yves had too many customers to handle, though he couldn’t afford help. And so one afternoon, he faced the final customer, Akatsuki the bookseller, and apologized for the wait.

“Think nothing of it. I....” Akatsuki paused at the array of sweets. “One would think I had time to decide but…”

Used to customer indecision, Yves studied Akatsuki, then offered him matcha mille crepe cake.

Akatsuki took a bite. He closed his eyes, recalling his childhood in Kogyoku, when the Sakura bloomed and the air had the fresh scent of the sea. “I wanted a taste of home. You have a gift. What is your wish when you bake for yourself?”

“It doesn’t work on me.”

“Ah. That is a pity.” Akatsuki bowed to thank Yves and left.

Yves might have forgotten the encounter, but the next day, before the lunch rush, a pretty girl slipped inside. “What can I help you with, Miss?” Try as he might, Yves couldn’t determine her heart’s desire.

“I’m here to help you.” She grabbed an apron. “I’m Emma – my father sent me.” At Yves’s shocked expression, she continued. “We own the book store. We’re not busy this time of day, but you are.”

“I don’t need any help.” Yves eyed her with suspicion. Was she here to steal his recipes?

“Yes, you do.” She pointed to a line forming already. “I’ll package the items and ring up the sales.”

Too busy to protest, Yves did as he was told. If he were being honest, having Emma around did make things easier. He had more time to create. Even so, at the end of the day, he told her, “Thank you, but you don’t need to return.”

…She returned.

Every day. She never asked for money, or requested a magic pastry.

Soon, Yves was looking forward to the moment her smiling face appeared. For the first time, he regretted being unable partake in the magic himself, for his heart’s desire was, simply, Emma.

Still, at least he saw her two blissful hours every day when she worked cheerfully and competently by his side.

One day Yves noticed something different about her. A distracted look in her eyes. Pain twisted in the pit of his stomach. He knew that look. She was in love with someone and wanted a pastry.

When the crowd left, he turned to her. “Wait.” He would give her a pastry, but he couldn’t bear to hear her ask for it.

Yves decided he would bake her something new. Nothing but the best, even if he was breaking his own heart to provide it. When inspiration struck, he retreated to the kitchen to create.

Sometime later, he returned, half-hoping that she had given up and left. But… no, she was patiently reading.

With a flourish, he gave her one perfect pale pink macaron. “Raspberry macaron, with lavender ganache and raspberry curd.”

“It looks almost too pretty to eat.” Still, she lifted the confection to her lips, took a nibble, and sighed in bliss. “Mmmm.”

Yves waited, heart breaking. Any moment now, she would leave to find her heart’s desire. But she didn’t move. Finally, heart aching, he asked, “What was your heart’s desire?”

She took his hands. “I didn’t ask for my heart’s desire. I asked for yours.”

Then, with a hint of shyness, she kissed him.

Surprise gave way to joy, as he lost himself in magic’s kiss.

Thank you to @lorei-writes @cheese-ception and @nuttytani for organizing another great event. I always have such fun reading your prompt reveals and writing my gifts (even though the word limit breaks my soul sometimes).

[flash-exchange]

A gift for @scorchieart as the part of @flash-exchange !! Prompt: Enchanted Bakery Character: Yves Kloss (IkePri) This exchange was so lovely and a fun experience! It was so fun to see and read what everyone had created for this! Thank you all for this memory! <3

[flash-exchange]

For @flash-exchange's October 2024 event. I made a gift for Iphi around the prompt "Demon" and opted to make a sort of demon AU with Shakespeare. It felt appropriately dramatic for him.

The quote is from the movie The Masque of the Red Death. And if you wanted to get technical, I used it from the song Beneath the Mask by Bell Witch, who used audio from that movie, which is based off of an Edgar Allen Poe short story... Convoluted to say the least.

Still, it was very fun and I'm happy with the results of the image

[flash-exchange]

A/N: My gift for the incredibly talented @dicenete 💜 as part of the excellent @flash-exchange

Prompt: Make It Quiet

Clavis x Reader

WC: 552

“Ah…..there you are. I was just wondering where the brightest jewel in this sea of noble gemstones had ventured off to. I have been speaking to some of our esteemed guests and I’m sure you would have delighted the Azurite prince–”

“You have to come with me.”

He blinks. “Now?”

“Right now.”

“Oh my, my lamb seems rather impatient. Don’t you want to have a quick dance? The orchestra is just finished warming up and–”

“C’mon.” You seize his hand, a prisoner held tightly in your satin glove.

“What a delightful turn of events. Are you perhaps hungry -Pardon me, sir- Yves has outdone himself overseeing the food -Excuse me, madame- although it lacks originality if you ask me-…Um…Darling? This is an exit.”

“Exactly. Come along.”

“I see I never knew the true strength of your grip. You are very insistent, my love. My, how dark the hallway is compared to the bright lighting of the ballroom. Are you sure–”

“Just a little further.”

“Your laughter tells me I shouldn’t be so suspicious. What sort of adventure is my sweet one taking me on? I- Wait, why are we stopping? There’s nothing here.”

“Wrong. THIS is here.”

“An alcove? Are you sure, sweetheart? There isn’t even a statue or painting or decorative anything! It’s nothing but darkness.”

“So perceptive. Come closer.”

“Have I mentioned how astoundingly strong your grip–”

“Stop. Talking.”

Shrouded by the shadows of the alcove, you cover his mouth with yours, fingers curled into the soft velvet of his lavender lapel.

Clavis does not speak. He can’t. He is powerless in the face of your radiant desire. All he can do is return your fervent kisses. He wasn’t entirely wrong about your appetite. Each kiss is hungrier than the last. His back is soon pressed against the smooth, cool wall, a startling contrast to the hastening heat of your body which he can feel through your layers of silk and brocade.

You graze the elegant line of his neck with your lips as you speak.

“I saw you talking to all those people-”

“Esteemed guests, my sweet,” he gasps, his hands grasping at the folds of your voluminous gown as if he needs something to hold on to, lest he fall.

“And you looked so…..” You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite, just hard enough for him to inhale sharply. “So at ease, in your element. So collected and calm.” Your hands slide down his sides, slip inside his waistcoat. “I suddenly had the burning desire to see you….unsettled.”

Your hands slide down further, over expensive silk and shiny golden buttons and butter-soft leather and metal buckles.

Is he….trembling?

“I believe,” he says breathlessly, “you are getting what you desire, my darling.”

Your smile is hidden in the darkness but he can taste it on your lips.

“Almost.”

“Ah….my love…..” He is losing this battle, falling backwards off the cliff of reason and hurtling towards the sea of no return. “Anyone….could walk by.”

But you both know his protest is hollow as his hands are already under the heavy folds of your skirts, gripping your thighs, pulling you towards him. 

”Don’t worry, my prince,” you murmur against his ear, a music that rivals the greatest of orchestras. “We’ll make it quiet.”

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @tele86

@dear-mrs-otome @writingwhimsey @silver-dahlia @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton

@namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine

@mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing

@nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly

[flash-exchange]

Doodles and Dust

Genre: Slice of Life

Characters: Jin Grandet, Sariel Noir

Wordcount: 700

Prompts: In the shadows, Make it...

A/N: My gift for the 2024 Ikemen Exchange over on @flash-exchange for @pathogenic. Despite them having one of my favorite friendships in the game, I don't often write these two together. So I'm very happy I got to work on this for ya, Ollie!

“Cinnamon sticks, old man— You scared the sugarcubes outta me,” Jin heaved, clutching the door with one hand and his chest with the other. It always was a shock running into him unscheduled. Doubly so in a dark attic.

Sariel did not look up from the trunk he rifled through. “If you are looking for your magazines, Prince Yves disposed of them last week,” he said.

“Magazines?” scoffed Jin. “You misunderstand. I am here for the same noble reason as yourself.” 

“How fortuitous that we both elected to use our lunch breaks productively today.” Sariel lifted his head and cobwebs swayed off his hair giving his face a ghoulish glow. “I have this area covered. Please start by searching there.” He pointed to a corner where stacks of dusty bookshelves leaned against one another in ominous invitation.

Jin groaned, masking it with a blazing grin. “You’re looking for a magazine, right?” 

The entirety of Sariel’s annoyance flashed with a single eyebrow twitch. “A notebook. Red. With my handwriting.”

“Embarrassing diary entries from your youth, eh?”

“An accelerated course is necessary to bring Belle up to speed with Rhodolite’s governance,” Sariel explained soberly. “I thought it prudent to reference study plans I developed from Prince Leon’s early tutoring days. Why reinvent the wheel?”

It was just a joke. Jin raised his arms in surrender and waddled over to the shelves, each so full to bursting, grabbing one book might topple the entire configuration.

Where to begin? 

Behind looked most stable. Plus he could hide there and snooze. Hey, this was supposed to be break time.

Jin scooted into the shadows, but something already occupied his napping spot. Carefully, carefully, he pulled out a large, ornate frame.  From first glance it looked like a typical painting of the palace grounds—lush rosebushes clearly recognizable to any Rhodolitian visitor—with seven tiny figures scattered across. Boys. But closer inspection revealed more; the boys were not in fact original subjects of the painting but crudely pasted on, torn edges revealing glimpses of different origins. On top of it all, notable blots of ink were scribbled over the scene, as though someone had once left behind harsh criticisms of the work.

“No way!” Jin exclaimed, “I thought I lost this ages ago!”

“And I thought those pieces were pilfered ages ago,” Sariel called as he joined him.

“You never asked. I never told,” Jin said, studying the collage. Long ago, this attic was his preferred place to practice quill-usage in solitude. He reverently glided his fingers over the markings. A pair of dark gloves covered the twins’ interlocked hands. A wide smile cut across Chevalier’s stoic face. Tears welling in Clavis’s eyes replaced with glittering stars. Even Sariel’s fury melted at the doodles.

To a child, the attic is an escape to worlds beyond imagination. To an adult, it is a prison of memory.

“Someone’s missing,” Sariel commented.

“Well, Luke wasn’t around yet.”

“Yes. But I meant His Majesty.”

Jin inhaled. “He wouldn’t have fit. They don’t make portraits that small for kings,” he said.

“But you left a sizable gap in the middle there.”

“As if I’d remember my muse from that long ago?”

“As well as you remembered to discard your drafts, it seems.” Sariel approached the frame and plucked a loose paper sticking out from the corner. Jin reflexively snatched it from his hands.

“Oh my. Embarrassing doodles from your youth?” Sariel asked with glee.

“Yves just missed a page,” Jin said, stuffing it into his pocket. Sariel decided not to comment on how Jin accidentally revealed his lie. Nor how he spotted the unmistakable drawing of a dark-haired boy with glasses on that paper.

“Goodness, how time flies!” Sariel announced. “I can always create a new study plan—Prince Luke requires one regardless. And speaking of recreating things for Prince Luke…” he mused, one hand stroking his chin. “It would be short notice, but I don’t believe the royal painter would mind. And gathering the princes would be beneficial for Belle to interrogate you all at once.”

The attic was indeed a place to unearth memories. Sometimes it worked well to inspire new ones, too.

Jin beamed. “Fine, but you’re standing next to me. Got it?”

Ever helpful, Rio volunteered to organize the entire event. He swiftly located and invited the royal painter from the farthest edge of the kingdom, booked and gathered the princes in the ballroom (resolving any and all inter-factional scheduling and squabbling conflicts that arose), and gallantly escorted Belle to the venue all with such efficiency, the princes invited him to join in for the painting. Neither Jin nor Sariel protested when he perched himself between them bearing the biggest smile of the bunch.

And that’s my headcanon for the story behind the 1st anniversary group portrait :)

[flash-exchange]

Yay! So happy for doing something for my lovely @lorei-writes in this @flash-exchange! Hope you like it!!

Here's Wizard!Chevalier with his ferret(?) companion.

Inspiration

Art tag: @bicayaya, @floydsteeth, @solacedeer, @jozhenji, @scummy-writes

@mxrmaid_poet, @bakersgrief, @candied-boys, @aquagirl1978, @valkyyriia, @queengiuliettafirstlady

@welp-back-on-my-bs, @ludivineikewolf, @noirsariel, @fang-and-feather

[flash-exchange]

Lost & Found

Keiths x Reader Thrilling/Spooky Prompts: Gods AU, Shapeshifters AU, Gates 701 words Event: "The Fair Returns" Gift Exchange hosted at @flash-exchange

My gift for @daegupaksu ! <3 I hope you like it, Aki! >:)

In the forest of your dreams, there is a gate. Pass me, pass me, it calls out to you from within and without, ushers you through the slumberous mist until you emerge from its shallows and climb onto the shore of consciousness. Yet it is not your bed where you rouse; there is no duvet and there are no four walls, no pillows, no blankets, no familiar posters you’ve once hanged. It is just the bleak, starless sky above, dried husks of harrowed trees, and a solitary arch, stones hastily arranged as if by a toddler’s hand.

In the forest of your dreams, there is a gate. Pass me, pass me, it calls out to you from within and without, ushers you through the slumberous mist until you emerge from its shallows and climb onto the shore of consciousness. Yet it is not your bed where you rouse; there is no duvet and there are no four walls, no pillows, no blankets, no familiar posters you’ve once hanged. It is just the bleak, starless sky above, dried husks of harrowed trees, and a solitary arch, stones hastily arranged as if by a toddler’s hand.

Come closer.

Go away!

Cold clings to your clothes, seeps deep into every soaked fibre, stings your skin and punctures it with a hundred burning needles. You need to move, to get out of there… to walk through the gate, as something, a voice, instructs you. A shadow walks the path in front of you, the withered grass muffling your steps — and there, there among the nothing of the forest, the lousy arch whisper your name. You jolt back, but a force seizes you, five misty fingers clutching your wrist hard enough for bruises to form. A shout rips from your lungs.

Almost there.

Don’t do it!

You don’t do anything. It is done to you instead.

The forest has ceased; it is an endless corridor now, chipped grey stone throttling the soft soil as moss climbs over the disjointed columns scattered in the space. A gathering jury, white flames emerge over the torches lining the walls. The gavel falls dully, and it falls, and it falls, each strike of deer hooves sending tremors through the ground. Your knees buckle.

There you are.

Why have you come?

Whoever he is, he is grand, drenched in molten silver and gold, and as ancient as for vines to suture his many scars. Thick bristle grows over his back, roots protruding from it like ribs and a spine. His breath is the wind. His eyes are blind. It is only his ears, snagged and hidden among the moonflowers crowning his antlers, that turn towards you. The Deer God charges at you, his powerful nares expanding as he draws in a gale. The floor shatters when kicked by his muscular legs, dust raising and leaves falling from his sides, boughs extending their arms from below the damaged stones. Columns shake, or the entirety of the corridor does. You shut your eyes, raise your arms to guard your head, and —

Large hands, calloused and abrasive yet undeniably warm, reach out to you. Your fingers entwined, you startle; although one nearly lets go, the other doesn’t loosen his grip. You dare to look up, two sets of caramel eyes staring at you, one with amusement and one with concern.

“I’m so sorry. We must have scared you with that big, hulky body,” the man says.

“Quit yappin’. Ya liked it, didn’t you?” his mirror image interjects, a feral grin tugging at his mouth as he drags you to your feet. You fall into his broad chest. His arm snakes around your waist, holds you even firmer, and his thumb strokes the line of your jaw, your chin, just shy of pressing against and between your lips…

“You —!” With a sharp jerk, you now rest against the other man, nestled in his protective embrace. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Things a failure like you wouldn’t have the guts to do,” he laughs. “Though ya are hardly better.”

The man behind you grows rigid, his valour crumbling under the weight of the inevitable realisation. A protector and a predator both, he jolts back, ridding you of his steady support. The world twirls as you fall down.

“I’m so, so sorry, I’m such a weedbrain.” A concerned voice hovers above your head.

“If ya can’t do it, then get back. I’ll handle our prey.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Then do it yourself.”

The reality grows murkier and murkier by a breath. Weak, you just barely manage to whisper, “Who are you?”

“Haha, the shock’s wearing down? I’m Keith. And the failure —”

“I can talk,” the man protests. “I’m also Keith.”

Keith… His voice soothes you until you dissolve into nothingness.

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