#☽ || a roomful of memories and longing ;; save

[kentosovertime]

(n.) the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are

toji x afab!reader, fiance!megumi - 2.7k words

A/N: here's a comeback fic for my blog resurrection, had this idea before I stopped writing and FINALLY got to it, enjoy~

CW: explicit content, explicit language, age gap, revenge cheating, manipulation, humiliation, dubcon language, your dad will do, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding, non consensual videotaping at the end, anger issues (rip the reader)

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“For fucks sake!” You screech, the sound of your rage swallowed by a bus that screams by the side of the road as you slam the hood of your smoking car shut. 

“At least it’s not in flames-” Starts a random passerby walking their dog, but is sent running when you send them a withering glare. After the weekend you’ve had and it’s only Friday night?

You open your phone, your glare turning to the long list of outgoing calls to every hotel within an hour of your apartment, all booked to no vacancy for a local festival. Your landlord really picked the perfect weekend to kick all their tenants out for “emergency” maintenance for an issue that was reported months ago. 

Someone must have threatened to report the living conditions, as his attitude quickly changed when he offered to reimburse the hotel costs if his tenants were forced to stay at one. 

Your gaze softens as you scroll through those calls to where Megumi contacted you, letting you know he had made it to the martial arts competition he was coaching this weekend. His soft spot and skill for taking care of children was what initially drew you to him, but right now you wished more than anything you could press on his name and he could come to your rescue like always. 

Calling a tow truck to bring your car to the mechanics wasn’t necessarily the issue… but being on the streets for the next couple nights was. With your car in this condition, it wasn’t like you could sleep in it, given your inability to find even a shity motel room in the worst part of town. 

You take a moment to mourn the fact that you didn’t move closer to where your family lives before realizing you really only have one option in front of you; Toji. 

The contact information for your boyfriend's father mocks you on the screen, daring you to call him, a perfect stranger, to come and save your ass. The lack of familiarity wasn’t based on a lack of effort on your part, having tried repeatedly to get Megumi to open up about his family. The most that you were able to glean was that his mother had passed away and his father wasn’t often present. 

“Hello?” A gruff voice answers on the first ring. You didn’t even realize you had pressed his number before he was on the line. “Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro? This is Megumi’s fiance…” An awkward, lasting silence stretches out between the two of you before you clear your throat and try again. “I’m very sorry to bother you, but Megumi is out of town and m-my car is billowing smoke a-and all the hotels are booked-” 

Toji smirks as you ramble, rather cutely he may add, grabbing his wallet and keys before he’s even told you yes to both of your requests. He chuckles under his breath as you struggle to not fill the silence, letting your words hang in the air again. 

“I’m on my way,” He hums as he twists the keys in the ignition of his car. “Get your stuff out of the car in case it explodes.” 

He barks out a laugh as he hangs up and hears a distressed noise of dismay leave your throat. You’re so easily worked up, he wonders if this is why Megumi has done everything in his power to prevent the two of you from meeting… a valid concern. Considering how that ex of his used to try to hang off of Toji. He shudders in disgust at the memory of the girl, still in high school and thinking she was worth a second glance. 

Something tells him you’d be a prettier sight. 

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This is why Megumi has been telling you no… It takes everything in you to keep your jaw snapped shut as you watch his father prowl up to where you're standing over your suitcase on the sidewalk, nervously glancing at the vehicle he made seem may blow up at any second. 

You approach the car hesitantly when he waves you over, shocked that your legs work from how tightly your wound. He opens up the hood to take a look at what’s causing the smoke while you wait for your tow. 

“Here, sweetheart.” It only takes him a second to point out what's wrong with your engine, gently redirecting your finger when you point to an area in question. “I wouldn’t hold out too much hope that this is worth fixing… you may be looking at a new set of wheels.” 

Anger and frustration well up in you again, even as a flush of heat cascades down your spine at the small touch of his skin on yours. You’re thankful for the distraction the anger provides, given the other option is avoiding looking at how his tight black t-shirt stretches across his torso or drooling like a pitiful little girl. Your fiance is attractive, but there’s still a softness to his face. He lacks the hard planes and sharp angles his father possesses. 

“One thing at a time.” Toji squeezes your shoulder with a smirk, leading closer than he should. How is he supposed to help himself when you seem ready to snap with how tightly you’ve wound yourself? The tension in your back only winds further with how he kneads your skin. “If you need it, I’ll pitch in to help Megumi get you around for a bit.” 

Your mouth opens to stutter out a reply… or maybe a denial for such an open ended offer, but the horn of the tow truck stops you. 

“Let me handle that.” He hums. “I wouldn’t want the tow truck driver to try to take advantage of you.” 

Watching him leave, you pull the phone from your pocket, sending Megumi a quick update about where you’re going before your phone dies. You shove it back into its spot after you’ve powered it off, saving what’s left of the battery for when you’re able to dig out your phone charger. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Toji holds the door to his house open for you, bracing his hand on the small of your back as you cross the threshold to a surprisingly tasteful living room. 

“What?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, the shock must be written all over your face. “Expect a futon couch and a mattress on the floor?” 

“M-Maybe..” You rub your neck with a sheepish look, managing a small chuckle as he leads you down the hall to what you assume is the room you’ll be using. “Something about unmarried men and the lack of dining room tables and living out of laundry baskets.” 

The drive over had taken longer than you expected, he lives on the edge of the city, the houses given more space than what you’re used to from your apartment in the city. But it had given you the opportunity to partially acclimate to his overwhelming presence. All you had to do was not look at his face… easy. 

“I did have a wife.” He hums in thought. “The art of furnishing a house isn’t lost on me… Anyway.. This one is you.” He flicks on the light as he enters the spacious room, moving until he gets to another door, turning that light on too, the cocky humor back on his face by the time he turns back to you with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“You have your own bathroom… shower head’s detachable.”  He tacks on, watching you empty your overnight bag, setting your night clothes out before you turn your phone back on and get it attached to a charger.

“That’s not- I wouldn’t-” A shocked squeak flies from your throat as your eyes widen in embarrassment. 

“Your face is…” He howls in laughter. “Absolutely priceless. My room is down the hallway, last door on the right. In case you need me.”

“I-” His tone drips with innuendo, making the blush on your face deepen to a shade of crimson. So much for not thinking about him inappropriately. 

“So innocent, sweetheart. You’d think you’re still a virgin.” You watch in mortification as your future father-in-law leans cockily against the door jam to your bathroom, your mouth opening and closing, urging something to come out, an explanation, a lie, anything. Just something to make him not make fun of you. “Oh my god… you are. Even when you’re engaged to my son?” 

“He…” You wring your hands together, your voice barely above a mumble, looking down at your engagement ring in confusion, as if it could tell you the Toji’s lying to you. “He said he wanted to wait until w-we were married. That he’d wait…” 

He never said that it would be his first time, you realize. As quickly as your embarrassment comes, it's replaced with a low, burning fit of rage that’s ready to lash out. 

“Wait! You thought Megumi was a virgin?” He snickers meanly. “That’s fucking rich, hun. That ship sailed in fucking high school.” 

You listen, shaking with the anger that’s boiling inside of you, as he describes Megumi’s relationship with a girl named Himari, how he walked in on them more than once. 

Your mind starts to spin in circles, fueled by this rage that has nowhere to go. As insufferable as Toji is about this, you find your anger can’t be directed at him. It's Megumi that lied to you for the entire duration of your relationship, not his father. 

As your mind circles, every insecurity that you’ve had about your relationship that you so easily dismissed before bubbles to the surface one by one. He’s always working or volunteering somewhere. The apartment has just become a place that he sometimes sleeps, if he ever makes it home because he travels around so often. He even said he didn’t like his father. Admittedly, you can see how they would clash, but was that it? Or did he just not want you to meet Toji so his cover wouldn’t be blown?

Toji approaches you, leaning into that delicious anger to purr in your ear. “I could show you what you’re missing, sweetheart…” 

Your body doesn’t flinch as your eyes slide to meet his gaze directly for the first time. You nod ever so slightly in consent, your breath uneven from the anticipation that’s built in your core from when you first saw him. 

“I’m going to need a little more than a nod, swe-” It’s the spite that pushes you to kiss him first. Spite that doing this will hurt Megumi has much as he hurt you, and spite that if you have to hear Toji call you sweetheart one more fucking time you’d explode. 

The groan you swallow from Toji as he presses against you wipes any doubt from your mind as you press against his broad chest to push him to the guest bed and crawl up his body to grind yourself into the bulge in his pants, hungrily seeking out his lips again. 

“Eager little virgin, aren’t we?” He growls as he yanks your head back by your hair, baring your neck to him so he can nip at it. The lack of marks there by his son is a further invitation to take you for himself. 

“Ah-! Mr. Fushi-” A whimper escapes your mouth as he carelessly shoves a hand beneath the band of your leggings and panties and you squirm to pull away as his fingers immediately shove past your entrance to scissor you open. 

“Uh uh. That’s enough of that shit.” He bites a harsh mark into the juncture of your neck, grinning when you cry out with a mixture of pain and pleasure, fat tears welling in your eyes and spilling over, your core spasming around his digits he continues to bully into you. “I’m not fucking stopping until your dripping, sweetheart. I’m going to have you crying that its too much and I’m not going to fucking stop. Even if you beg.”

It stings, the foreign feeling inside of you, but that feeling is quickly replaced by a rapidly approaching orgasm. You can take him, you think as you reach down between you to palm him through his sweatpants. You’re ready for anything he could give you. 

Your efforts leave you breathless and end with you managing to work his pant’s down his legs as he rips your leggings from your body along with your panties. 

“Fuck-” He growl as you take ahold of his length and line him up with your entrance as you hover above him. “You better slow down or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re too cocky for your own- oh fuck-” You hiss as you allow the head of his cock to breach your entrance. The sting returns and flares into white hot heat at your core, making you double over into his chest as each inch rips its way into you. Your hips rock needily into him, trying with desperate circles to work yourself open. 

By the third circle of your hips, Toji loses his patience. His hands reach out to grapple your hips, using his momentum to flip the two of you before he thrusts violently into you, fully seating himself before pulling from your heat to slam home again. 

“Broken in now, aren’t you?” He growls, slamming into you a few more times before the sting completely abates, making sure you really feel what he’s taking from you. “Took what you wanted like a greedy fucking whore. Now shut the fuck up and be thankful I’m giving you my cock.” 

He pulls out of you to manhandle you until your chest is laying against the covers, wasting no time before he’s hauling your hips back into where he kneels behind you, entering you roughly again and setting a punishing pace. 

“You take me like a trained bitch.” He pants, grunting as his hips slap against yours, sending the vibrations straight to your clit as you sob into the duvet. “You lying about this being your first time?” 

You don’t answer, your face planted into the covers from the angle he has you bent into. Toji growls in annoyance, gathering your arms behind you to pull you up against his chest before his free hand snakes around your front to deliver a harsh slap to your center, ripping a scream from you.

“Go on slut. Answer, daddy.” He slaps your clit again and you feel yourself gush around his length, pushed to the edge. 

“M’not lying, Mr. Fushigur-” Another slap has you trembling, fresh tears pouring down your cheeks as you build impossibly higher. “D-Daddy- M’not you just f-feel s’good. I’ve b-been wet since you showed up.”

“Greedy little thing’s so ignored by Megumi you have to result to fucking his dad?” He coos down at you condescendingly, degrading you further. His voice takes on a cruel tone as he starts circling your clit. “How are you going to explain to your precious fiance that you’re carrying his brother?” 

“W-What- n-no T-Toji you c- shit!” You cum suddenly around him, the image of you leaking his cum banging around your head until you're clamping so hard around him you’re pulling his orgasm from him. Shivers wrack your body as you feel the ropes of his cum pump into you and leak from where you’re connected.  

The two of you breathe heavily, your panting filling the room as you come down from your highs. In your haze you don’t notice Toji video taping his cock pulling out of your cunt or the cum that gushed out in its wake before playfully slapping your ass and walking into the guest bathroom to get you a towel. 

You slump against the covers, wincing as you reach for your phone when you see the screen go off with worried messages from Megumi about being near his father. Followed by numerous missed calls with the same message, pleading with you not to stay with him. That he’d rush home tonight to help you so you didn’t have to stay there. 

You scowl at the message, sending off something that gets right to the point. 

<Who’s Himari?>

You decline the immediate litany of frantic calls, fully shutting off your phone and shuffling out of bed to join Toji in the bathroom. Maybe the shower could be round two… and if not, you’d happily sneak into the master bedroom to make that a reality.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210@rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems [[if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[fantasticsandwich]

yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 2)

Don't you know you're the apple of his eye?

Your fingertips were raw from constant nipping, the consequence of a nervous habit that resurfaced whenever your textbooks lay sprawled open like the wings of a fallen bird. Molecular biology had become your latest adversary in the quiet battleground of your small, well-lit room. Your eyes darted across diagrams and text while your brain fought to corral the stubborn facts into memory. They spun around, lines at a time, before coiling into helix lattices. You stared at the wall, watching as the facts floated across your vision like cell clusters inside the vitreous.

“Adenine pairs with thymine,” you muttered under your breath. You chewed on what was left of your nail, wincing slightly at the sting, but it was a pain less sharp than the prospect of failure. The glasses perched on the bridge of your nose slipped down, and you pushed them back up with a knuckle, not daring to smear the pristine lens with sweat-glossed fingers.

The sudden buzz of your phone shattered the stillness. It vibrated against the wooden surface of your desk insistently, the noise disproportionately loud in the silence. Cillian was the first person you thought of, and with him in mind, a wave of anxiety rolled through your chest. If it was him, calling you out for one of his impromptu gatherings, how could you say no without igniting his subtle ire?

Sighing, you ignored it. If he said anything, you would pretend to have been asleep.

“Focus,” you scolded yourself, yet your hand betrayed you, reaching for the device. The screen lit up, casting a glow on your tense features as you swiped to read the message.

‘Hey Y/N, can we meet? - Rian.’

It wasn't Cillian. Relief mingled with curiosity, loosening the tight knot of worry in your stomach. But why would Rian want to meet so suddenly? A simple inquiry, yet it stirred a flutter in your heart that felt oddly like hope.

Your fingers hovered over the reply button, pulse quickening at the possibility of an impromptu meet-up. A meet-up meant stepping away from the books and into a moment that was unplanned, untailored, something you hardly allotted time to.

"Sure, where?" you typed back, thumbs almost slipping on the screen in your haste. You pressed send before the seeds of doubt could take root, before you could convince yourself to decline for the sake of study or appeasement.

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You found him waiting on O’Connell. The bridge was pulsing with Dublin's lifeblood, tourists snapping photos, street performers drawing crowds, locals weaving through it all with purposeful strides.

You saw him, but you were distracted, mesmerized by the crowd indifferently swimming around, swallowing you whole. You wished you could've delved into all of their psyches; mentally or otherwise, it was impossible to know what was wrong with someone. Some people were saints. Some were the worst people alive. Some were average. Some knew what they were and longed to appear otherwise. You were delighted by humanity’s infinite potential. Whether good or bad, humans held an even capacity for both. Someday, you would have to save the life of someone who didn’t deserve to live. You wondered what kind of person you’d become then, when your morals were upheld by a code.

Being in a crowd offered a wonderful sense of anonymity. You weren't anyone. You didn’t belong anywhere, but not one member of the numberless throng knew that. Momentarily, you were granted the chance to become anyone. Not an aspiring doctor. Not another student obsessed with owning nice things. All you wanted to be was at you friend’s side, enjoying the evening.

You stumbled through, eventually reaching Rian. His gaze fluttered to the pavement, then he moved to reach for his wallet. You snuck over, moving until you stood directly behind him. Hands creeping up to his shoulders, you pressed down, stifling a laugh when he jumped.

“Hey!”

“Shit, Y/N,” he hissed, fumbling with his wallet.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

At that moment, his stomach growled.

Laughing, you patted him on the back. He permitted your hold to linger, your arm resting across his shoulders as you embarked into the throng, mindlessly stepping. Their stroll led them to a small bar tucked into an alley. A flickering sign with streaks of balding neon designates its name, but you paid it no mind and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was cozy, dimly lit with amber bulbs that cast a comforting glow over the wooden tables.

Passing a line of arcade games, you choose a spot near the front, on barstools that overlooked the street. Still, you were attracted to the machine’s blaring lights like a moth. You wanted a plush toy from the claw machine and knew that you, for some reason or another—due to a lack of skill or luck—would not receive it. As the eldest child, you were accustomed to sowing the seeds of desire yet and never reaping. But it was for the better; you were greedy and would demand more.

“What are you looking at?”

Sharply inhaling, you spun around to face him. Rian peered at you from behind his phone screen, then set it aside, face up.

“Nothing,” you said. “Those machines are really bright. It’s distracting.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, squinting. It really was blinding.

Settling at their table, Rian sank onto a stool, defeated. It creaked beneath his weight, and he winced.

“I’ll get us drinks,” said you, already rising.

His arm shot out in protest, wrapping around yoru wrist. “No, let me.”

With a huff, you tugged yourself free. “You invited me out, so it’s my treat.” Rian could not afford to squander his hard-earned cash on you.

“Isn’t it usually the other way?”

“Who cares? You’re getting free food. Don’t question my benevolence.”

Your bank account’s sum would dwindle, but someday, you’d make it back tenfold and treat Rian to something better than a shitty pub without even bothering to look at the price. This thought was your bleeding wallet’s only solace.

Reaching the bar, you ordered two pints. He swiftly delivered them from the tap. Cheering, you sipped at the froth spilling over the edge. You set a hefty glass before Rian and wiped your mouth on your shoulder.

“Sorry for the sudden call,” he abruptly said, his hands finding the security of his pockets as he spoke, “I just felt like seeing a friend today, and you’re as friendly as the lot gets.”

“No problem. I’m glad for the distraction. It feels like ages since we’ve last seen each other.”

“Yeah, really. Life gets busy. School, work, family… Between everything, It’s impossible to find a moment just to breathe.”

Not to mention how he juggled two part-time jobs, but Rian wasn’t one to complain.

Humming along, you traced the rim of your glass. You were vaguely aware that you should’ve gotten another to supplement living off of your mother’s income, but after last semester, you were reconsidering your ability to work and maintain your grades. At the very least, you’d work in the summer, and since your mother refused to take rent, would find other ways to help around the house. Maybe you should’ve already started looking for a co-op to boost your application for med school.

“It really is,” you said, shaking your head. “I thought so, too. I haven’t seen you or Connor in forever. I hate how, even though we attend the same university, it feels like we’re living in different worlds.”

Secondary school was unfounded hell, all seven layers of Dante’s inferno at once. While you didn’t recall those days fondly, you longed for its simplicity. There was a practiced ease to each day, comfort in only having to devote your time to your studies. Even now, you only had to focus on hitting the books and attending class, but because the responsibility to learn had fallen on you, you found your resolve wavering. Only the prospect of becoming filthy rich one day spurred your ambitions.

And grades too, you supposed. Most people claimed grades weren’t important, but those very same figures wouldn’t schedule appointments with a doctor who struggled through undergrad coursework. While it wouldn’t be evident upon entering an office, anyone could tell a doctor’s educational prowess through their conduct.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed, adjusting your glasses with a habitual motion. Your arm grazed the table on the way to your lap, stirring the contents of your cups. Your gaze was drawn to the rippling, amber liquid.

“Have you been keeping well with your studies?” Rian inquired.

“Trying to,” you said. You chuckled, a hollow, biting sound. “Can’t understand shit, but molecular biology isn't going to learn itself.”

“Speaking of misunderstandings,” Rian ventured cautiously, his fingers playing with the condensation on his glass. “Are you... I mean, I could be wrong, but from what I hear around campus, is there something going on between you and Cillian?”

The question struck you like a wave, causing you to inhale sharply. Your mouthful of beer went down the wrong pipe, and you choked, sputtering as you tried to regain your composure. Your eyes watered as you reached for a napkin, dabbing at your lips.

“Why would you ask that?” you managed to cough out. Bringing a hand up, you hit your chest, dislodging the liquid from your lungs.

Rian's gaze was steady, though not unkind, as he took a slow sip of his beer, buying a moment before answering. He set the glass down with a gentle thud, the sound muffled by the chatter and music surrounding them.

“I guess I’ve noticed how he's around you. It’s like… like he's always trying to keep close to you, you know?”

You studied Rian’s expression, noting the earnest furrow in his brow.

“No, we’re not anything. Only friends, and Cillian is just… complicated,” you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words. “But speaking of complicated,” you ventured with a cautious smile, “how are things with your girlfriend? I know you’re long-distance, but you haven’t talked about her in a while.”

Rian’s expression softened, but his eyes darted away for a moment before meeting yours again. He fiddled with the edge of a coaster, his fingers tracing the damp outline left by his beer glass.

“Ah, well, we haven’t spoken much lately,” he admitted, a note of shyness betraying his usual warmth. “It’s kind of on a pause, I guess. But it’s alright. Life's been busy. Busy, or maybe I’m not good at juggling.”

Sometimes, you thought Eve was a grand ploy invented by his madness. A girlfriend who lived in Malaysia and only met him through an exchange program last year? You didn’t recall meeting such a person, but supposedly, they struck up conversation because Rian was learning Indonesian, and they kept in contact to continue as language partners. It didn’t make sense to you, but what did you know? You were studying biomedical science, after all. You knew all the heart’s functions except for one.

“Really?” You responded with good-natured curiosity, though your mind was elsewhere. A buzz from under the table jolted you out of your reverie. You glanced down discreetly, the familiar ding of a text notification causing your heart to skip a beat. It was Cillian. Your fingertips brushed against the cold metal.

“Y/N?” Realizing your distraction, Rian’s brows knitted together.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, giving him an apologetic grin. “Just lost in thought for a second there.”

Another buzz, more insistent this time, sent a ripple of anxiety through you. You could almost hear Cillian’s voice in your head, his voice with each chime. Hey, hey, hey. Answer me. Why aren’t you picking up the phone? Your grip on the cup tightened.

Rian took a sip of his beer, his eyes not leaving your face. In the brief silence that followed, you were crushed beneath the weight of his unspoken questions, the air thickening as your phone continued like a beehive, its screen emitting a faint glow from beneath the cover of the table. You angled the device slightly, squinting to read the string of texts as you typed out a hurried response. Your thumb fumbled over the autocorrect suggestions, fingers flying too fast for your mind.

“Did I call you out at a bad time?” Rian leaned in, genuinely perplexed, the soft light casting shadows across his face. “You seem to be somewhere else.”

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you tucked the device away, hoping your smile might mask the sudden rush of guilt. “Ah, no, it's not that,” you managed to say, your voice a pitch higher than usual. “Brother’s home alone and doesn’t know how to cook. I’ll get him some Chinese after. You know how it is.”

Instead of answering, he shrugged and downed the rest of his glass’ contents in a single long gulp. Your heart clenched with gratitude. You offered a nod, a silent thank you, before redirecting the conversation to safer, shallower waters.

Across from you, Rian reached for his glass, the ice within clinking like a subtle chime. He took a slow swig to scoop any dregs into his mouth, chewed on a piece of ice, then set the glass down with measured care. His hand moved through the air as if to dismiss an irritating gnat.

“Summer brings all the pests,” he said, swatting at the air. “You shouldn’t bait flies. They’ve got germs and they’ll make you sick if they linger.”

Your mouth was dry. “I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hugging yourself, you watched the night drift past, viewing the crowd, pinpointing people to imagine the lives of. You spied yourself in the reflection, your image superimposed across the glass. Your lens reflected the light, making your eyes round discs.

What were you doing here? What were your goals with Rian?

He was always a joy to hang out with, but like all good things, he was received in moderation. He took just enough courses to be considered a full-time student and whenever he wasn’t committed to his studies, spent his precious free time trapped at a part-time job. His pay covered his tuition. His grandparents from the countryside sent him a meager allowance for food. Whenever they went out, he eyed the prices. He’d offer to pay at dinner, but no one ever permitted him to snag the check, knowing better than to take advantage of his needlessly giving nature. Without parents, he struggled more than a regular student ought to, so you tried to take care of him, the boy who was like the younger brother you’d always wanted. You weren’t doing a very good job, but Rian was nothing if not determined to squander his loyalty on someone like you.

You had sparse conversation, commenting on things between bites.  While not particularly close with Rian, he was easy to read and transparent. You soon developed a good groove in the conversation, permitting it to falter when you finally lost interest. Otherwise, you ordered chips to eat in silence and neatly stacked the trays when finished. While you wiped the table down with a napkin, Rian discarded your trash in a rubbish bin.

Checking the time, you realized y ouhad been out for just over an hour. You could’ve extended the plans. You still had a small balance set aside for discretionary spending, but the week was yet to end, and you feared that Cillian might impose an abrupt photography session, which meant visiting a new resturaunt, which would be followed by a trip to his favorite cafe.

If you’d gone out with him instead of Rian tonight, you could’ve expected to extend the excursion by an hour and for your account to be wiped. He knew all the trendy, fashionable stores, and in the company of someone like him, you felt compelled to also look your best. You could do little about your physical appearance, so through fashion, it was.

On the way out, you passed by that claw machine again. You glanced longingly at the contents. Although the quality was questionable, the little duck perched atop the lot was adorable. You paused to stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your face looked puffy and beneath the harsh lights, the bags beneath your eyes visible. The breeze had died and the night air was humid, so baby hairs stuck to your forehead. Retrieving a clip from your purse, you stalled. You scooped the strands between your thumb and forefinger, attaching the clip. You laughed at yourself. Your bangs stuck up like a palm tree.

“So that’s what you were looking at,” said Rian, slotting himself at your side. His reflection joined yours. “Want me to win it for you?”

“No. It’s all luck, no skill.”

“That’s because you’re not skilled.”

“You know these things are practically scams, right? The claws are always too weak to grab anything.”

Rian’s lips curved into a smile, his features illuminated by the neon colors dancing across his face. “Maybe,” he conceded, tucking a stray lock of wavy hair behind his ear. “But it’s still worth a shot. What if I win you something?”

“Then I’ll be genuinely impressed.”

You winced when he inserted a bill. He maneuvered the claw around, eyeing an ugly thing. You stood at the side of the machine, eyeing his trajectory. The machine gave two turns with each payment. During the first, Rian managed to snag the creature. Seized by the head, it precariously wobbled before slipping out and falling back into place. The second was just as dismal.

Rian clicked his tongue. You begged him to stop, but he fed the machine bill after bill. He shrieked with every failed attempt, yet on on the eighth and final turn, the claw held fast and secured the creature.  Your mouth fell open as the prize dangled precariously during its journey toward the drop chute, landing with a dull thud. It was still for a moment before he lifted the plexiglass and snatched it up.

“Yes! Did you see that? I beat the machine!”

Gripping it by the neck, he presented a scraggy bundle of coarse thread and lopsided proportions. You weren’t quite sure what it was meant to be. Similarly, it wasn’t the one you had your eye on earlier. Nevertheless, you profusely thanked his efforts and rewarded him with an awkward embrace.

“Let’s take a picture with your new friend there,” Rian begged. His phone, a device older than most, its screen littered with scratches, was already out of his pocket and in his hands. “I want to show off my skills.”

You grinned. “You’re going to brag about one measly win?”

“It made you smile. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No. It’s alright. It’s just one picture.”

You hugged the toy close to your chest to muffle the furious pounding of your heart as he snapped the photo. With its head skimming your cheek, you caught a whiff of its cardboard stench and felt a hole beneath one of the arms. The material was coarse against your cheek. You gritted your teeth and grinned. You wouldn’t complain because Rian was overjoyed to provide something for you, so you chewed your tongue.

Instead of the shoddy object, you reveled in the sentiment behind it, knowing your momentary happiness was worth losing out on several lunches because he valued you more than himself.

Backing up, Rian framed the shot with shaky hands. Just as the shutter clicked, someone jostled him from behind. With a grin, he turned the screen toward you, displaying your blurred visage.

“Rian, it’s all hazy,” you protested. The lights in the back were supernovas, streaky lines illuminating your silhouette. Your figure appeared smeared across them like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, pocketing his phone without a second glance. “It’s just a picture of us—well, you and the… Whatever the fuck the ugly thing is. I know you’ll love it. You’ve got this way of loving things no one else could.”

You would. You had to, because no one else would offer the care you did.

You could’ve deluded yourself into feeling special, but it was all for show. He was smiles and kindness, yet above all, Rian was desperate to keep others at his side as if they were pieces of art to be displayed. Such was natural for people of his nature; those who were alone and despised the fact would always try to appear otherwise, and at all costs. Rian would toil and squander his precious time and money to please you, because if he didn’t no one else would. He was an indispensable person, eager to assert his value. That was his sense of selfishness.

Knowing all that, would you still plead for the stupid toy again? Of course, and without delay. The harsh truth to the world was that that happiness could only be achieved through vanity. Humans were vain and selfish; no person was inherently selfless. Those that were, were without good reason.

[writers-potion]

I have a fantasy character who has a history of being abused before the story begins, which comes up later in the story as the abusers are trying to find them, but the main point of the story is not about their past life. I don’t know how to tell the audience what happened to them before the abusers re-enter the story as they are very cagey about their past and I don’t want to use flashbacks which I think are not as relevant earlier in the story. Do you have any thoughts?

Including Character Backstory Without Flashbacks

Hi! Thanks for the ask :)

Distill The Backstory

First, I suggest that you pick out 1-3 main memories from the past you want to reveal. Character backstories can be long and complicated but if it's not relevant to the current story, it can sit at the back.

What colors/voices/words/smell/patterns do your character remember the most? What are the few things that keep coming back to them? Make it bite-size, like: the smell of fresh paint mixed with mud.

Start dropping small hints: when the character encounters a certain smell, just show how they tremble before walking on. Do this enough times, and the readers will soon catch on that there's something.

Rule of 3 (omne trium perfectum)

The rule of three is a writing principle that suggests that events or characters introduced in threes are more humorous, satisfying, or effective in execution of the story and engaging the reader.

Pick 3 details and build them into the present conflict:

-the character encounters a situation that resembles their past

-the abused character is traumatized at present due to what happened to them in the past (if you show them avoiding cinemas like hell, the readers will know that they've been abused in a cinema in the past, for example)

Drop 3 hints about how the past in BUILT INTO their present life. Given them habits that originate from their past memories. That way, the backstory lives in the present.

Mini Flashbacks

When the character recalls something or sees something that triggers their memory, mention the past briefly, in just 2-3 lines.

For example, just writing: "It was like having her arms maimed with a knife again, crying alone with the only light coming through a tiny bathroom window. No mother or father or uncle had saved her from King Darius's men then, and certainly not now." > This is enough for the reader to know the gist of what happened, and the narrative can move on describing stuff in the present.

Dialogue

If the people from their past are coming for them, you can have a scene where they mention how they enjoyed torturing your abused character, while the POV character overhears them.

Or you can have another character ask about the abused character's past. Don't make the dialogue too long, but this should give enough room to explain the jist of the backstory.

You can have the character's past abusers mentioning the past directly: "Oh, we had such fun with ropes, didn't we?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

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[mvrtaiswriting]

Patterns. x Portgas D. Ace ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

hiii! it’s simping for ace hours and this might be the most tooth rotting piece I have written in a while. again, quite short - but god i adore it! and i hope you will too <3 do let me know in the comments!

gender neutral! no warnings. not proofread 

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

“I wonder what happens if I connect all the dots.” you mumbled, running your fingers across Ace’s cheeks, touching every freckle and looking for a pattern. You always thought there was something special about Ace, something that went beyond the love you felt for him - it was like the universe let the two of you meet just at the right time. Your energies complemented each other in ways you never thought were possible - and during the most chaotic period of your life, Ace stumbled into your life. Weeks later you joined Whitebeard’s crew, mastering your newly acquired powers after eating a devil fruit gently offered to you by Pops himself, making love with your boyfriend away in your room when everyone was asleep.

Your life took a whole different turn since you were with Ace - it was like he saved you from something bigger than you; you didn't know what it was, certainly becoming a pirate was more dangerous than serving tables in your island but in all honesty, that could have really killed you. It was freedom you longed for, the wildness of piracy, sailing the sea not having any perception of geographical borders and discovering the world, one creature after the other. There was a whole universe outside the walls of your city, which now only was a faded memory. Ace took your hand and stole you from your motherland - and you never looked back, thanking him everyday for changing your life for the better. 

“Do you think they form something?” he asked giggling, crossing eyes as he tried to follow the movements of your fingers. You nodded in response, not even noticing the goofy expression on your boyfriend face. Laying on top of him, you laid your head on his pillowy chest, getting a perfect view of your lover’s cheeks. 

“I can’t believe it. There IS a pattern!” you screamed in excitement, getting up to take a better look at his face. Lightly squishing his face, you took a pen to connect the dots on his face. Ace remained silent, letting you draw over his face, admiring the little scrunch that formed on the bridge on your nose every time you focussed on something. 

“Pops taught me something about the constellation, and I never saw this one in the sky. I can’t believe it’s here.” you continued, visibly surprised.

“What? What is it?” he asked curiously. 

“The freckles on your cheeks somehow form the Pisces constellation!” you clapped your hands, proud of discovering this little gem hidden in Ace’s face. 

“It’s believed to be the hardest to spot in the night sky. According to the legend, it signifies the union between Aphrodite and Eros, the goddess of beauty and the god of love.” you added, circling the moles on his cheek that indicated the two gods. “I knew it. I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence.” 

Ace smiled happily, quickly wrapping his arms around you, wiggling both of your bodies side to side. “This is so cool!” he squeaked, peppering your face in kisses. “What. a. mind.” he added, emphasising every word he said. 

“This isn’t about me! You are the special one!” you laughed, his kisses slightly tickling you. 

“I would have never known if it wasn’t for you - is something really special if no one knows about it?” he flicked your forehead before you could even argue against it. 

You took a second to observe your boyfriend once again, the way the scribbles on his face exactly charted the rarest and most romantic constellation, out of them all. It was hard to believe in coincidences now; he truly was your soulmate, your twin flame, your other half. There was no other explanation. The connection between the two of you was instant - something clicked the first time his eyes locked with yours. And even if you destroyed everything when you decided to embark in this journey with him, something fell exactly into place as if it was always meant to be. Chaos became the only order things could have, and like the seemingly random freckles on his face, everything was now making sense. 

“I love you, fire fist.” you smiled, biting your bottom lip trying not to burst into tears. You couldn't explain it; you loved him before but somehow you loved him even more now. A new light shone upon everything as a new, intense wave of happiness overwhelming your heart.  

[onyx666]

☽◯☾ let the moon settle you ☽◯☾

chapter 2

pairing : finnick odair x black fem!reader

warnings : none

don’t hesitate to click on the links （＾ν＾）(underlined text)

Roses are simple flowers. They've always been and always will be, except in Eleven, especially the white ones. Growing in the wilderness here, they're saved for children. At least, that was the case for Jalen. Withholding the symbolism of purity, innocence, and childhood in their color, they rose from the ground to land on top of those kids' graves, burying every strand of hope in their path. It all made sense when you saw them hanging on the Capitol walls, especially in Snow's jacket lapels.

After your return to District Eleven, the air hung heavy with a mixture of celebration and mourning. The stark contrast between the opulence of the Capitol and the solemn reality of Jalen's absence weighed on your heart.

The funeral, a somber affair in the familiar confines of the District became a painful testament to the toll the Hunger Games exacted.

As you stood amidst mourners, grief manifested in every face, you couldn't escape the ache that clung to you.

The simplicity of the white roses, once symbols of innocence, now took on a profound meaning as they adorned Jalen's casket. The earthy fragrance mixed with the heavy scent of grief, and each petal seemed to carry the weight of a lost future.

Jalen's family, faces etched with sorrow, gathered around the gravesite. As you returned with a heavy heart, you felt the weight of responsibility and guilt that came with surviving the Games.

You longed to offer solace to his family, but the chasm left by his absence felt insurmountable.

The funeral unfolded like a painful hymn, each note resonating with the collective sorrow of the District. With a heart burdened by the echoes of the arena, you approached Jalen's casket. The air was thick with unspoken words, and as you laid eyes on his lifeless form, the reality of his sacrifice hit you anew, a tidal wave of anguish crashing against the walls you had built to shield yourself .

The simple gesture of placing wheat in his hand felt like an inadequate offering to the memory of a life lost. Wheat, a symbol of Eleven's resilience and strength, now served as a poignant tribute to Jalen's courage in the face of the Capitol's brutality.

Your fingers lingered on the golden strands, an attempt to grasp onto something tangible amidst the intangible pain.

As you stood there, wanting to rip your heart out and present it to his family in a desperate act of empathy, you realized that at the end of the day, no tribute, no matter how heartfelt, could mend the chasm left by Jalen's death.

The weight of survival, the guilt of being the one to return, bore down on your shoulders.

The air echoed with a heavy silence, each step you took through the muted streets of District Eleven resonating like a lonely heartbeat.

The once-vibrant atmosphere now dulled to shades of gray, the collective grief hanging like a shroud over the community.

As you entered the hushed expanse of the Victors' Village, even the rustling leaves seemed to hush their whispers in respect for the departed.

Your mother, worn by the day's burdens, had departed for work or some other pressing matter, leaving you alone to navigate the quiet corridors of your so-called new "home'

In the dim light of the hallway, a faint glimmer caught your eye-a hint of cerulean peeking through the muted tones of the room. Your steps quickened as you approached the mahogany desk in the study, and there, like a breath of color against the gray, lay a blue envelope.

Hesitation filled your soul before unfolding the delicate parchment, revealing words that spoke of empathy and understanding, a lifeline cast in the sea of sorrow.

The surname « Moon » engraved on the top of the sealed document was already foreshadowed the identity of the sender.

You can’t help but remember the night that nickname is linked to, because in the end, Snow did in fact talk to you that evening.

[Capitol - 17-19] - (The Victor’s Party)

President Snow leaned back in his ornate chair, a glint of calculated amusement in his cold eyes. "You're finally stepping into a world beyond the arena, my dear. A world where the games continue, but the battlefield has shifted."

Your expression guarded, met his gaze. "What does that mean?"

Snow's smile was more a predatory baring of teeth. "Victory in the Hunger Games is but the beginning. You've won the Games, but now you're part of a grander spectacle."

Your eyes narrowed. "I didn't sign up for political games. I survived the arena. That was the deal"

Snow chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Survival, my dear, is an art form. And your canvas is about to expand. The Capitol expects a performance from its victors. A display of loyalty, gratitude, and compliance."

You scoffed, a hint of defiance in your voice. "I won't be a pawn in your games."

Snow's gaze grew colder. "Every victor must play their part. The adoration of the crowd is fleeting, but the consequences of disobedience are not."

You square your shoulders. "I won't pretend to be something I'm not."

His tone turned ominous. "We all have a way of making even the strongest conform.

Think carefully, my dear. Your choices have ripples that extend far beyond your grasp. Your mother’s safety, her tranquility, all lie in the balance. My expectations are unyielding, and the repercussions may lead you to a place far less forgiving than this celebration. Don't let your moment of triumph blind you to the reality of your new existence."

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of Snow's words settling over you like a suffocating cloak. The path ahead, once bathed in the glow of victory, now seemed shrouded in uncertainty and shadows.

Your jaw clenched, a mixture of anger and apprehension simmering beneath the surface.

"What exactly do you expect from me?" you demanded, your voice edged with defiance.

Snow leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a sinister gleam. "You see, The Capitol values its victors. But that glory comes with expectations."

He paused, letting the weight of his words linger in the air before continuing, "Your admirers in the Capitol have a certain appetite for... entertainment. And as a victor, you're expected to cater to their desires. A small price to pay for the privileges you enjoy, don't you think?"

You recoiled, your eyes narrowing with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "You can't be serious."

Snow's smile remained chillingly composed. "Oh, but I am."

As the weight of Snow's insinuations settled, You felt a cold knot of realization in your stomach.

The glittering facade of victory was giving way to a reality far more insidious, where the Capitol's expectations extended beyond mere appearances, and the consequences of disobedience were hinted at in the shadows of Snow's ominous words.

Shivers crippled down your spine, dropping your eyes on your hands, you realized where you were, remembering what your hands were full with.

The cerulean letter that was in your hands was awaiting you.

Dear Moon,

As I sit down to pen this letter, I can't help but think about the path you're about to tread upon—the journey back to your home district, the echoes of grief that will accompany you, and the silence that will become your unwelcome companion.

I won't sugarcoat it; the life of a victor is a myth they don't tell you about after the Games.

The adulation of the crowd fades, and you're left with a hollowness that the Capitol's excesses can never fill. You'll find yourself grappling with a silence so profound it becomes its own form of torture.

Returning to your district won't be easy. The faces that once knew you as a neighbor, a friend, will now carry the weight of expectations and projections. The pain, the aching grief, will surround you, sometimes drowning you in a sea of emotions that only those who've walked this path can truly comprehend.

The seashell enclosed in this letter is a fragment, a small piece worn smooth by the tides, carrying the echoes of distant shores and the promise of tranquility.

Sometimes, holding onto a tangible piece of the past can anchor us in the present. I hope it brings you a sense of grounding amid the chaos.

You spoke of never seeing the sea that night we talked, and the ache in my chest has only grown since then. I ache to show it to you, to witness the calming effect it has, much like the moon on the ocean waves. I long for the day when you can experience its vastness, and perhaps find solace in its timeless beauty.

I yearn to share this moment with you. While Snow restricts our actions, perhaps one day, he’ll permit you to visit Four.

Until then, know that you're not alone in navigating the complexities of this existence. We're all stumbling through the silence together, trying to make sense of a life that defies understanding.

Take care, Moon. In the quiet moments, may you find strength, and in the moonlit nights, may you discover a glimmer of peace.

Warm regards,

Your Playboy.

"Your Playboy" you said with a huff. That boy must’ve lost his goddamn mind, you thought.

Not knowing if it was you or the grief talking, you admitted to yourself the truth.

Finnick’s words hit you like a soothing balm, offering a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. That blue envelope, now a silent messenger in your quiet home, symbolized an unexpected connection in the face of loss.

Deep down, beneath the surface of your consciousness, you always sensed that life after the Games would forever alter the fabric of your being.

The nightmares that haunted your sleep, the shadows that lingered in the recesses of your mind -all of it was a testament to the profound metamorphosis you underwent.

These fears became a shared journey, a common thread woven into the narratives of Pane's victors.

There was an innate knowing, a premonition that whispered truths before they unfolded.

The seashell cradled in your hands echoed the echoes of those unspoken fears.

Finnick's confirmation served as the closure you needed -a confirmation that resonated with the collective pulse of those who bore the weight of victory.

You acknowledged that your struggles were not solitary. Acknowledged the collective scars etched into the souls of Panem’s victors.

not proofread jsjsjsjsj ( i was supposed to post this ages ago omg)

[sinsandsuccubus]

SEVEN DEVILS - Jack Harlow (II)

Context: “See, I was dead when I woke up this morning. I'll be dead before the day is done.”

Genre: Fantasy

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairings: Priest!Jack Harlow X Witch!Fem!Reader

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Long time no see, but I am back with Seven Devils after a long delay. There is one more part after this, so stay tuned.

Click here for Part 1!

Masterlist ☽☾

                                          ☽ ☾

Static electricity flickered throughout the room, the fairy lights cascading the room being the only source of light. Pages turned through the book, fingertips emulating deep blue between each flick.

“You know honey, sneaking up on a witch is never ideal.”

She flicks her wrist, spinning around and settling on her feet, her husband facing her with a gust of wind.

“I always forget you can do that.”

“Yeah, you do.” She chuckles, bringing him into a long, loving kiss. They part at the sound of feet rumbling down the steps, the books displayed around the room being tucked away with a flicker of blue light.

“Girls! What have I told you about sneaking up on mommy and I? More importantly, about coming into the basement?”

“But daddy! We’re hungry!”

“How does chili sound for dinner?”

“Come on dad, we had that two nights ago!” The littlest one of out the two followed her towering father up the steps, the man ducking his head to avoid the beams.

“Mommy, why aren’t we allowed in the basement?” The two moved towards the stairs, the woman crouching down to meet eyes with her oldest child.

“You’ll learn soon enough my love. One day mommy will tell you what she doesn’t down here. But for now, let’s head upstairs. Maybe I can convince your father not to make that chili.”

“Thank god mom. I was starting to get sick of it.”

                                          ☽ ☾

Memories flooded your vision as you stood in, your once, family kitchen. The aroma of beef stew filled the kitchen, a plethora of herbs laying on the counter. Weeks had passed since the night of the ritual, and you had only seen Jack a few times in passing; you and Diana spending most of your time preparing for a ritual that was due soon as it took place during the full moon. Smiling to yourself, you brought the steaming broth to your mouth, blowing the steam away before swallowing the liquid.

“It’s missing something…. potatoes!” You exclaimed, flickering your wrist, drawing your tote bag over your shoulder, keys flying into the other hand. Swiftly, you shut and locked the door, standing back to look at it as you thought about your sister.

“She has a key.” You mumbled before moving your way along to the market.

                                          ☽ ☾

Chattering fluttered from each stall as you browsed through the market, some of the patrons waving as you passed. One older gentleman drew your attention, your legs moving you to his stall.

“Good evening Miss. Y/N.”

“Good evening Mr. Johnson. How are your sales today?”

“They’re going pretty well dear, everyone seems to be fond of my wife’s pies. Although I think we should keep them for ourselves.” He leaned in and whispered the last statement, a chuckle leaving your lips, his wife then popping up from behind the booth.

“Andrew! You know we can’t do that! Our produce alone doesn’t just bring home the money. And what about Y/N? What would she do if we kept the pies to ourselves?” The woman winked at you, you picking up on what she was putting down.

“Yeah, Mr. Johnson! What about me? Are you just gonna abandon me… what about my needs?” You spoke in shock, head hung low to resemble pain, and hurt.

“No, no dear! Of course, I’d save some for you.”

“Mhmm. That’s what they all say.” Mrs. Johnson mumbled, to which you both burst out in laughter, your hands clutching your stomach as you doubled over.

“It’s always a pleasure stopping by your stall.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you Y/N. Is there anything you’d like to purchase?”

“Yes, of course. Some of your red potatoes? And a few spices, I’m making beef stew tonight for Diana and I.”

“Ah, that does sound good. Why don’t you take some of the fresh rolls my wife made this morning, free of charge.”

“Mr. Johnson-“

“Please, dear. Take them. Besides, if you don’t eat them, I will.” The old man spoke with a smile, causing you to shake your head in slight laughter.

“Yes sir.” You handed him the money to pay for your original items, receiving a medium-sized bag full of potatoes and spices, alongside a large bag of bread.

You smiled at the man before noticing his gaze trail off, your eyes following his gaze.

“Ah, Pr-“

“Please, call me Jack.”

“Ah yes. J-Jack. What a pleasure to have you here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. Y/N.” He turned to you and kissed your knuckles with sincerity, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Have you and Jack already met?”

“Ah yes, in the-“

“In the town square. She was the first person I stumbled upon when I arrived. I was mesmerized by her beauty.” Mrs. Johnson looked at you, a smirk hinting on her lips.

“She offered to show me around town. Right Y/N?”

“Y-yes. Thank you for the groceries, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.”

“Of course dear! Have fun! And use protection!” The elderly woman yelled out, laughter heard from behind you as you and Jack walked away.

“I’m so sorry for those two.”

“It’s quite alright Y/N.”

“Mesmerized by my beauty huh? What a great response.”

“I like how you remember that outside of our fake meeting.”

“Touché.”

“So… where are you taking me?” Jack mouthed like a kid, making you let out a sigh that turned into a chuckle.

“A secret.”

“Oo~ Some place secretive. How do I know you’re not kidnapping and plotting to kill me?”

“First off, it’s not kidnapping if you’re a willing participant. Second of all, I could say the same thing about you in the woods the other night.”

“Touché.”

The two of you burst out into laughter once more, you taking in Jack’s face. Noticing the crinkle of his eyes while he laughed.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of crystal blue in the light, his curls forming a beautiful aura around his face, almost like a halo.

You could say he was a saint.

Except for the fact he was watching you in the woods.

“You’re staring gorgeous.”

“You’re the one who just called me gorgeous.”

“Well, you are.”

“Are you bold about everything?”

“Pretty much. In fact…” He came to a complete stop on the path, looking between your warm eyes and your plump lips.

“May I?”

“I-“ You pondered the decision before the crunch of a branch startled you, noticing a bunny hopping along the treeline.

“We’re here.” You followed the bunny through the trees, ducking under branches as you turned towards the tall man, who had hung back with a pondering look.

“Trust me.” You held out your hand, which he gracefully grabbed, as you pulled him into the scenery before you.

It was stunning.

Trees towered over the two of you, their leaves colorful for the fall. The sounds of water trickling sent goosebumps over your skin, a ring of stones lining the pond that the water fell into.

Jack watched as you skipped along the edge, fear striking up his spine, visions of you slipping into the pond flashing before him, electricity flying up his hands.

However, it was when you settled on a high-sitting-flat-stone, that he calmed down. He followed you swiftly, sitting down next to you, feet swinging next to yours.

“This is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You paused.

“I’d like to show you something.” You stood, standing up on the rock. Jack's eyes grew wide as you began to strip, folding your clothing into a neat pile that you set next to him. Once having come down to your bra and underwear, you dove into the water, Jack standing up on his two feet to look for you.

Once your head appeared on the surface, you could see the sigh he let out, a smile spreading across your lips.

“Come on in, the water’s just fine.”

“I don’t know Y/N.”

“Come on Jack.” You spoke softly and seductively, Jack’s eyes instantly filling with lust as he began to strip down to nothing but his boxers, jumping into the water less gracefully. You smiled at him as he swam towards you, his curly hair falling within his face. You brushed it out of the way softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Follow me.” You spoke softly, swimming out further. He followed you a short distance before the two of you stumbled upon a waterfall. Smiling back at him, you swam through, waiting for him to follow, which he did.

Brushing past the water and vines, you two made it to the cave, light reflecting off the walls.

“Wow…” he spoke almost in a whisper, eyes darting around the area.

“I said the same thing when I first found it. Enchanting isn’t it?” You spoke, pulling yourself up onto a smaller rock. He climbed beside you, plopping down.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I trust you. For some reason, even with the very short amount of time we've known each other, I seem to trust you.” He smiled at you faintly.

“Thank you Y/N. For trusting me.”

                                          ☽ ☾

The two of you reached the clearing, bodies slightly damp from the water the two of you swam through to leave.

“Don’t you bring a towel or something with you?” He spoke, attempting to fix his damp curls. You laughed, cheeks hurting with humor.

“Usually yes. But when I don’t…” Your voice faded before Jack looked at you, noticing a spark in your eyes. Suddenly purple energy surrounded your body, the water evaporating off your skin. You reached out to Jack, who didn’t hesitate to your touch, as you dried his skin off.

“I practice magic, Jack. I’m a witch.”

                                          ☽ ☾

The walk back to town was quiet, neither of you two speaking since your revealing of your powers. Jack had simply thanked you for his drying, however, had said nothing to you since. You began to wonder if you had done the right thing. You thought you could trust Jack, you had a sense you could.

Right?

Suddenly, the two of you were approached, a small crowd forming around you.

“Priest! Priest! Thank god you are here! Why are you with this wretched wi-“ The noise of the crowd turned silent, ringing filling your ears as you looked at the man you thought you trusted.

The man you had taken to your secret cave and clearing.

The man you were beginning to develop feelings for.

Then, you were brought out of your trance by your neighbor shaking your shoulder.

“Y/N. Diana has gone missing.”

-

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████ █████ ████ █████ ████ █████ ████ ████ ✧ ┄ ` ☽

“you don’t need to carry this weight by yourself, you know.” (Nico)

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — » （ ✗ ）@adventures-written || Angst Meme

The blonde really had been holding in all of these feelings and with him now in his gate Vash knew exactly what this meant. The other was able to feel his pain from beyond. He cards a hand through his hair that had mostly turned black, the sad physical trait of a plant dying.

The blonde was pressed back to back to a familiar frame, a frame that was greatly missed, loved and cherished. A memory he was bound to chase for the rest of his life just like his surrogate mother: Rem. Geraniums surround them as a breeze of wind passed by them. The only place Vash could really find peace but was also tortured by his strong feelings.

❝ You don't nee to carry this weight by yourself, you know. ❞

The brunette finally speaks. His voice sounds exactly the same which makes the blonde bite back tears he had already shed.

❝ Wolfwood ... ❞

The sound of his voice almost sounds like it is begging. Begging for him to come back and yet there is no physical way to see him again. He is sure the moment he wakes up he’ll forget, forget what his spirit speaks to him.

❝ You of all people know I can't so that. ❞

He says as he takes the gun from his thigh and puts it to his temple. All the things he had done in the past like giving Nai that code and the ships and crashing, the multiple deaths he had caused, the trouble of his amnesia, the loss of a close friend. All of it. He wanted to spend all of their tomorrows with them, and yet he couldn’t make it in time for Wolfwood. What was he supposed to do without him?

He was lost from the very beginning.

He had long since convinced himself that he was no longer needed in this world and his sacrifice for humans was a way to atone for not being good enough to save them all. He cared too much for others that there was no longer any room for himself. He grips the hilt of the gun a little tighter before sighing and putting the gun away.

His heart broke at every step forward, a single tear running down his cheek.

❝ I miss you, my friend. ❞

[salveticn]

𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐒 

Perhaps one day you will tell me what this desire of proving myself worthy is. And I know that you believed in me, but I couldn't do it... So I returned home with bruises on my face and memories I wished to forget. On this brave night I shall close my eyes and wait for another sun to rise.

this is a commission from the talented ssscty for me . do NOT reblog .

[slytherinscribbles]

𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕊𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕞 - 𝕊. 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜

My work is NOT to be reposted without my consent, reblogs are more than welcome!

Warnings are set in place, DO NOT proceed if these matters upset or could potentially trigger you.

Description: Sirius Black and his support systems. Essentially just a bit of late-night thoughts. Warnings: implications of suicide, mentions of bad mental health, family issues, mentions of food and drinks. (Hopefully, I got them all, please do tell me if I missed something) Word count: 815 words Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader (also mentions of the other Marauders)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The noble house of Black is not characterized by being an affectionate family. As the eldest son, Sirius did not know what it felt like to be cradled whenever he was upset or frightened. He did not know what it felt like to feel the comfort and security of a parental figure. Such as a motherly hug or a chaste kiss on the cheek before boarding the Hogwarts Express. He did not know what it felt like to receive praise and compliments from family members, nor did he ever stop to think it was unusual.

He never realized how different his family was from others. Not until he met his friends, met their families, and was introduced into the warm hugs of Euphemia Potter. That was when Sirius caught glimpses of what family was supposed to be. The first time he got back from Hogwarts, he never looked at his family quite the same.

Most of all, he did not know what it felt like to have a support system back home. He had no shoulder to cry on: he had to be his own rock, his own therapist, and his own glue. He had to hold himself together and stuff away any emotion he might be experiencing, not wanting to burden his friends with anything. He had to muffle his own sobs as he laid awake at night, pondering about life and feeling like he should just give it all up.

He often thought about giving up on life, wishing all the pain and hurt would simply stop. And although he came close to ending it on more than one occasion, he never followed through. It was the moments of momentarily panic, the moments where he snapped back to reality in a brutal fashion. It did bother him he never followed through, but there was always something clinging onto him, telling him not to do it.

At times it was knowing he would not ever be able to smell freshly baked cookies again. Other times the faces of his friends haunted his memory. Sometimes it was the lingering smile of a stranger that kept him from making that decision. The kind of act of a stranger is all it takes to save a life sometimes.

Sirius did not talk about these problems, afraid to burden his friends with what seemed like insignificant problems. That he was overreacting and wasting their time. Sirius feared to be judged, to be rejected and scowled at. He feared they would leave him if they found out what was wrong with him. His problems seemed insignificant. After all, they only took up a small part of a world filled with worries. He was insignificant.

Similar to his problems and worries, he rarely spoke a word about the noble family of Black. And if he did, he buckled underneath the polite smiles and sorrowful eyes. He kept it short and bittersweet, speaking with calculated words and emotionless eyes. He had started to resent his family, hating how they treated him, and he hated what they stood for. Going to Hogwarts made him realize how much he truly despised 12 Grimmauld Place.

The Marauders accepted his decision about not wanting to open up. They respected his need for space, but they would also steal mugs of hot chocolate if he had been in his room for too long. At times, Remus would pluck a particular childhood book from the library's shelves, disguised under James' invisibility cloak. On more than one occasion had James lend out a knitted blanket he got from home. It brought comfort to Sirius, a slight reminder that the Potters would always be there for him. And even Peter pitched in, even if Sirius did not notice at first.

Apart from the Marauders, there were few people who Sirius let into his life. There was something about you that felt comforting and radiated trustworthiness. He could not exactly figure out what made you stand out. But if he did, he would express eternal gratitude for it. Maybe it was the atmosphere of security that followed you wherever you went. Or maybe, it was the comforting scent that rolled over him every single time you were nearby. Perhaps it was just you. And everything about you.

The evenings spent at the Astronomy Tower, legs dangling over the edge while the two of you talked. Sometimes it was nights of you talking about lessons or passionately sharing whatever caught your eye that day. Other nights you spent listening to Sirius, opening his heart and pouring out all he had ever kept in. And you always knew when to give him space, when to let the silence fill the air, or when to comfort him with words.

Despite everything, all the worries, the never-ending self-doubt, and the apprehension to let himself grow close to people, Sirius Black loved his support systems.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @pom277 @jadonsanhco @magicalxdaydream @avsensio

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Legend of Hana Chapter 87

Warnings: Fluff/angst 

Rating: SFW

Hana and the others had returned to the Mysterious Tower floating in the Real Between. Sora, still asleep, sat propped against the wall with his legs splayed out. Hana and Riku knelt beside him, while Mickey and the others stood off to the side. 

“Seven lights, thirteen darknesses... Master Xehanort has been busy,” Yen Sid murmured and closed is eyes, once he had received the report. 

“Aw, Sora. Don't tell me your heart's sleeping, too,” Mickey said to his young friend. 

“No, Mickey. This affliction is not the same,” the sorcerer said to him, and Mickey looked up at him.

“Can we do anything for him?” Riku asked. Everyone else waited anxiously for the reply, too. 

“In your Mark of Mastery exam, you were to unlock seven Sleeping Keyholes. By doing so, you would awaken those worlds from their prison of slumber, and also acquire the power to free a heart from its sleep. Riku, you unlocked those Keyholes within Sora's dreams. Therefore, it stands to reason that you now have the power to awaken Sora's heart.” 

“You want him to dive back into Sora's sleep? But Master, Sora's heart is down in the darkest abyss,” Mickey protested before Riku could reply. “If Riku's not careful, he might just get trapped down there with him. No... I'll go instead.” 

“No way. I’m going,” Hana interjected. Hana had to save Sora. She just had to. But Yen Sid disagreed.

“And perhaps you two may even succeed. But there is no denying Riku stands the better chance, having dived into Sora's heart as long as he has. Besides, you need rest, Hana.” 

“He’s right, Hana. We’ll head back home and your dad will stay here till Sora wakes up,” Luna added. Hana sighed and looked at Sora. 

“Alright,” she mumbled. Riku studied his friend’s sleeping face for a moment and then broke into a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry, Hana. I’ll bring him back,” he said.

“You better. Otherwise, I’ll kill you,” Hana snarled. 

“A-alright.” Hana stood up and walked with her family back to the family mansion. After a bow to Yen Sid, Riku gripped his Keyblade in his hand, raised it up, and held it out at Sora. Light radiated from Riku’s Keyblade, the portal that appeared began to shine. With that, Riku dove into Sora’s sleep. 

                                                          ☽✧☽✧

Once Hana and her family reached the family mansion, Hana rushed inside and locked herself in her room. Luna didn’t think too much of it. She thought that Hana just needed time to relax. She headed to the garden and began taking care of her plants. While she was doing that, Mukuro headed to Twilight Town to reunite with her twins. Rumi and Ansem tagged along and they arrived at their home where Nightmare was happy to see his family once again.

“Hi, sweet boy! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Mukuro said as she gave Nightmare well deserved pets. She looked at the mansion and saw how destroyed it was. Ansem saw the look on her face and placed a gentle kiss to her head. 

“We’ll fix it. Don’t worry,” he said. 

“Yeah. And our family will be back together again!” Rumi added. Mukuro smiled softly and turned to the two. 

“You’re right. Now then, let’s go bring the triplets home,” she said. They headed into town, walked through it, and soon found the triplets buying ice cream. Sea-Salt Ice Cream to be exact. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Mukuro smiled. Hayner looked over and spotted his family, and dropped his ice cream.

“Mom...?” he whispered. Mukuro waved and he ran to her while crying, confusing Pence and Olette. Hayner hugged Mukuro tight and sobbed, happy to see his mother back. “You’re back! I missed you so much!” 

Pence and Olette looked at Mukuro and felt all of their memories of her come back. 

“MOM!” they cried and ran to hug their mother. 

“C’mere, babies! I’m back and I’m never leaving again!” Mukuro smiled. Rumi and Ansem joined the hug and they were a family once again. 

                                                         ☽✧☽✧

Darkness was in everywhere. Some inky fluid covered the ground, while a black miasma rose toward the sky. This was the chasm of Sora’s dreams. The liquid seemed to be massing up ahead, gathering together into the shape of a person. 

“What?” Riku asked. When he readied his Keyblade, the humanoid mass turned into a suit of armor he had never seen before. It was about the same height as Riku’s current form--himself before he had left Destiny Islands. And then in the hands of the Armored Nightmare was a Keyblade of purest jet. 

“What are you...?” Riku whispered, but whether or not it heard him, the armor closed the gap between them at incredible speed and went on the offensive. As soon as Riku stopped the blow, the armor dove into the lightless morass at its feet and disappeared. “Where’d it go?” 

While Riku was distracted, three huge spheres appeared from the darkness and came at him. He knocked them away before they could surround him, but the Nightmare abruptly reappeared in front of him with a devastating attack. As he blocked again, Riku noticed something. Aside from the color, the Nightmare’s Keyblade was very similar to Sora’s. His opponent seized Riku’s moment of hesitation and landed a chain of blows. This wasn’t a foe he could defeat by giving it any less than his all, although the idea wasn’t his favorite. His mind made up, Riku parried it attacks. And when he did--it stopped. with an especially powerful blow, Riku knocked the Armored Nightmare away and thrust his Keyblade at his opponent before he could get back up. And before Riku knew it, he was smiling. He landed a final strike on the Nightmare, and the armor cracked. The protective shell shattered with a flash, and Sora appeared from within while the shroud over the world around him began to clear. But--

“Sora!” Though Riku grabbed for him, Sora was sinking into the darkness at his feet. He reached out desperately, but he was too late. All that remained was Sora’s Keyblade. “I'll find you, Sora.” 

Riku picked up Sora’s Keyblade and raised it toward the center of this place--the darkness of sleep--and a Sleeping Keyhole appeared. This was the door leading to the innermost depths of Sora’s heart. Light shot out from the Keyblade and into the Keyhole, which glowed brighter and brighter until everything went white. 

                                                        ☽✧☽✧

Hana turned on her shower and sat in there, replaying the events in her head. From her kidnapping, to the branding, to the prophetic dream of her father. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t feel any tears. She laid her head against the wall and remember every moment with Sora. 

“Please be okay, baby boy,” she whispered. 

                                                        ☽✧☽✧

Riku found himself on a wooden walkway of the isles he called home--the Destiny Islands. And standing there in the sunset was not Sora but--

“Roxas?” Riku asked the golden-haired boy. 

“What is it that you're so afraid of?” Roxas asked. Riku wasn’t quite sure how to answer, but he soon came up with an answer. 

“Losing something that's important,” he said. At his answer, Roxas disappeared. Riku had began to walk from the bridge to the beach. He remembered playing tag here with Sora countless times. This time, a boy who looked a lot like Roxas appeared before him. 

“Roxas? No, wait...” Riku said. Something was different--not only his clothes but something else about the way her carried himself. 

“What is the one thing you care about more than anything else?” the boy asked. Again, Riku was unsure. There was only one answer--what mattered to him more than anything and what terrified him to lose. 

“My close friends.” Again he answered, and the Roxas look-alike was gone. Riku had no idea what was going on here anymore. He suddenly looked up and saw someone sitting on the paopu tree on the islet. “Sora!” 

He hurried over across the bridge, and there he found a dark-haired girl in a black coat, taking in the sunset. 

“Who are you?” he asked. Without even turning his way, the girl asked him a question in return, her eyes still on the sun sinking below the horizon. 

“Riku. What do you wish?” 

“More questions...all right...” This time, Riku knew exactly what to say. He stood next to the girl and leaned against the tree. “To recover something important that I lost.” 

As soon as he gave his response, light engulfed him, and he found himself back on the beach. A small bottle came drifting in from the sea, painted red by the setting sun. 

“What's this?” Riku murmured as he picked it up, and then he heard a voice. 

“You were not the visitor I expected.” DiZ...no, Ansem the Wise, was walking toward him across the sand. 

“What are you doing here?” Ansem the Wise strode over to the waterline without it so much as a glance at Riku.

“Perhaps I wanted to atone for events of the past...” He paused for a moment, perhaps considering his next words. “...Even if no apology can undo the harm I have wrought. I felt...that I ought to leave at least something behind. So I digitized myself and my research, and hid them within Sora.” 

Riku looked to the bottle in his hand. 

“So this is...data?” he asked. 

“Yes. A clue, I hope, to finding yourselves or your lost friends in your hour of need,” Ansem the Wise replied. “The heart has always been quick to grow. Each exposure to light, to the natural world, to other people, shapes this most malleable part inside of us. Nobodies are not different from us in that manner. Sora was the only one able to return to his human form without destroying his Nobody. That is a statement to the love in his heart for other people, and the bonds that tie them together. Perhaps...he has the power to bring back the hearts and existences of those connected to him-- to recreate people we thought were lost to us forever. Our most precious treasures--even an empty puppet--the trees of the forest, and the petals on the wind--there are hearts around us everywhere we look. And it does not take superhuman powers to see them. Surely we remember as children the way our hearts made everything seem so shiny, and perfect. Sora has a heart like that--uncorrupted, willing to see the good before the bad. When he sees the heart in something, it then becomes real. When a connection seems broken, he may have the power to mend it.” 

Silently, Riku just listened. 

“He has touched countless hearts, he has accepted them, and he has saved them. And some of those hearts have never left him--whether they fell into darkness or were trapped there--whether they sleep in the darkness of Sora's heart, or were welcomed into its warmth--they can be saved. All Sora needs to do is be himself and follow wherever it is that his heart takes him. It is the best and the only way,” Ansem the Wise said as he pointed to Riku’s bottle. “The rest is in there.” 

“All right. Thanks. Thank you,” Riku replied. The sage looked at Riku. 

“Of course. Now why is it that you are here?” 

“Uh...I kinda need to wake Sora up.” Ansem the Wise smiled faintly at that. 

“Don't tell me he's gone to sleep again?” 

“Yeah. What'll I do with him?” Riku smiled back. 

“What, indeed?” Riku had worked with DiZ in the past, but stopped as soon as he found out what was happening to Yui’s family. But this time, they simply shared a warm smile. “Never fear. Sora is safe.” 

“Huh?” RIku asked instinctively. 

“He's not here. You see, by defeating the Nightmare imprisoning Sora, you freed him.” 

“You mean...the Sora wrapped in that black phantom?” Ansem the Wise nodded gently. 

“Then, you came here, and you were questioned by three young people. That was the final key to awaken him. Sora is awake. You can go home now,” he said. 

“Really? Thank you.” Riku expressed his gratitude again, then held up his Keyblade aloft. A Keyhole rose there, and the beam of light lanced into it. As the boy rose into the air, Ansem the Wise had one final question for him. 

“Young man! I do not believe you ever told me your name,” he said. He had asked him the question once before, back when Riku knew him as DiZ. Riku had once answered with another name, but this time, he could hold his head high and say who he really was. 

“It's Riku.” He nodded at Ansem the Wise with a smile and vanished into the glow from the Keyhole.

                                                          ☽✧☽✧

“Is Riku still not back?” Sora had awakened with ravenous hunger from his time asleep, and he was stuffing his face with some cake that had been set out on a table. Xigbar was trying not to snap, because he needed to get to Hana. Beside Sora, Mickey and Lea, who was sitting backward on his chair, looked over at Riku with concern. Yui came over to visit, because of how worried she was for Riku. She laid his head on her lap and gently stroked his hair, silently praying for him to wake up. Quite some time had passed since Sora came to, so it was odd that Riku had yet to wake. Or so they thought, when Riku stirred. 

“Riku?” Yui asked. Riku’s eyes flew open, and he sat upright.

“Sora!” he shouted--and then he saw his best friend, getting chewed out by Xigbar. 

“Listen to me kid! You need to get to Hana! None of this bullshit here! You can eat at Luna’s! Now get your ass moving!” he said. 

“Okay, okay!” Sora replied. He ran out of the tower and headed to Luna’s family mansion, leaving Riku with Yui. 

“Hey, bunny,” he said, kissing her lips gently. 

“Hi,” she replied. “I’m so glad your home.” 

“I’m glad I’m home too. And I’m glad Sora’s safe now.” Yui took his hand and led him outside the tower.

“C’mon. Let’s head home,” she said. Riku nodded and they headed over to Ansem’s mansion, where he had gave Xemnas and his family the guest rooms. 

                                                          ☽✧☽✧

Sora had arrived at Luna’s mansion and made his way through the many halls till he found Hana’s room. He knocked on the door and a few seconds later, Hana opened the door, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants. 

“Sora...” she gasped. 

“Hi, baby,” he smiled. Hana pulled Sora into a tight hug and softly cried into his shoulder. Sora held her close and stroked her hair, telling her everything was okay. Hana soon pulled Sora into her room and they cuddled on her bed, with Fenwick of course. Just as Sora was about to fall asleep, Hana sat up in bed, making Sora look at her in confusion. 

“Sora, there’s something I need to tell you,” she said. 

“What is it?” he asked, worriedly. Hana took a shaky breath and started speaking. 

“It’s time I tell you my story,” she said. 

To be continued...

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS CHAOS LINEAGE | RUKI 2 (ENGLISH)

☽ CLICK HERE FOR OTHER CHAPTERS & MY TRANSLATION MASTERPOST ☽

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Today I’m back with part two! I’ve already played through his route once going for the good ending, so I feel kinda bad choosing the bad choices right now... T^T Either way, enjoy!

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending.

-LOCATION: YUI’S ROOM- 

Yui: Nn…  (Huh… did I…? After we were in the courtyard…) (That’s right…! Ruki!) (After Ruki fed on me, I suddenly became dizzy… and then, I remembered everything.) I’m Komori Yui… I’m a high school student living in Kaminashi. Good, I actually remember it. (Why was I mistaken for the legendary Eve?) (Oh, no, rather than mistaken, it seems like my memories were completely rewritten…) Ah, Ruki and the others too… Has everyone lost their minds, just like I did? (It seems like everyone is under the impression that their opponents are actually their brothers, and are fighting for some kind of throne…) (And then the mansion, this place… This is definitely not Kaminashi, although I thought I was in the Mukami mansion.) I don’t know what, but something strange is going on… I have to tell Ruki and the others, quickly! 

-LOCATION: ORANGE MANSION LIVING/DINING ROOM- 

Yui: Ruki! …Oh, you’re here? 

Ruki: You’re being loud. We’re having an urgent meeting right now. 

Yui: Ah, I-I’m sorry… (Wait, I apologised without thinking, but that’s out of the question! This is also urgent!) 

Ayato: Come to think of it, Pancake, weren’t you sleeping in your room? 

Yui: Ah, I just woke up. Now that you mention it, how long was I gone for?

Ayato: What? Hasn’t something changed about you? 

Yui: Huh…? 

Kanato: You’ve suddenly become over-familiar. There’s a limit, even to being shameless. 

Yui: Ah, uh, that’s… (That’s right. Until I remembered everything, and thought that was our first meeting, I was keeping more of a distance…) (However, at this point, I should try to deceive them, because I can’t get used to treating them so formally.) Uh, maybe because I slept well and felt refreshed when I woke up? 

Ayato: Huh? Is that it? 

Shin: Above all, don’t cause Brother too much trouble. You fainted in the courtyard, right? 

Yui: Ah, yeah… It’s just because… I got a little dizzy. 

Shin: That’s why I don’t like you weak humans. With the falling over even when you’re just walking, and all. 

Yui: (But really, I fell over after being fed on…) 

Ruki: … 

Yui: (I suppose it would be better not to say anything, right? Let’s try to stick with that…)  (Even if I try to do that… this atmosphere. There’s something unusual going on, but it seems like they just won’t break the ice.) 

Ruki: Eve, now that you’re awake, take a seat. It’s not like our talk has nothing to do with you. 

Yui: Ah.. y-yeah. (Ruki, why aren’t you even considering that I fainted? If we could, I’d want to talk with just the two of us…) (I just want to know what’s happened between you all, so I’ll leave it…) 

Ruki: Let’s properly summarise the situation. We’re continuing our strife in order for me to become the King.  Eve, who will be the key to achieving this, is in my possession. 

Ayato: Well, actually, she’s mine. 

Shin: Save your sleep-talking for when you’re sleeping, alright? Do you still not know that she’s his? 

Ayato: What? Don’t go on deciding that yourself! 

Kanato: You’re annoying. Don’t shout around me like that, I’ll get irritated! 

Yui: (E-even though I suppose everyone’s memories have become messed up, they sure sound like they normally do…) 

Ruki: Let’s continue our talk. Under these circumstances, shouldn’t we consider what that remaining lot will do next? 

Shin: Of course. They’re after Eve, and there’s no doubt that they will come to attack us. 

Yui: (…come to attack us? That’s right, the thing they’re fighting for is to obtain Eve…) (If it continues like this, they’ll start hurting each other…!) 

Ayato: Isn’t that a comfort? If we don’t act first, they’ll be coming here for us. So, it’s fine to beat up anyone who comes here, right? 

Shin: Think about the difference in strength! If they attack us right from the front, what will we do? 

Kanato: Fufu, Ayato is such an idiot. 

Ayato: Huh? Are you picking a fight with me? 

Ruki: Everyone, shut your mouths. Something such as attacking from the front is a foolish plan. We’ll unnecessarily exhaust ourselves.  If it’s possible, we could go and assault them in their mansions. 

Yui: Assault them? What are…

Ruki: What is it? Is my remark so dissatisfactory?

Yui: J-just… (Yuma, Kou, and Azusa are in the other mansions.) (Is he saying that it would be alright if they went over to battle the rest?)

Ruki: I’ll give you the right to speak, then. What method would you use to gain control over the other mansions? 

— SELECTION —

    1. 話し合いで　Talk to them (black)

Yui: I wonder if you could work it out by talking, to keep you from fighting…?

Shin: Haha… really, Eve? Do you seriously mean that?

Ruki: So in your eyes, this dispute ending by means of discussion is a desirable outcome? If so, I can’t say anything other than that you’re a fool.

Yui: T-that’s…

    2. 罠を張って　Set a trap (white)

Yui: I just don’t want you to hurt one another! We could at least try capturing them with a trap, or something like that...

Shin: Capture them... This is not hunting, you know.

Ruki: However, traps might just be what we’re looking for. It should also be effective when it comes to depleting the enemy’s strength, right?

Yui: So it’s a good idea! (No, it’s not good! I’m being praised, but we’re not solving any problems right now!)

— END OF SELECTION DIALOGUE —

Ruki: In any case, in the other mansions are Carla and Reiji, and the others, who will simply turn their heads away [if you try to start a discussion]. We should start moving and investigate, without doing anything careless. 

Ayato: Jeez. How troublesome. That’s not exactly a gala [?]. I’ll just let you do whatever.

*Ayato stands up and leaves*

Kanato: I don’t have any interest in this either. I’ll be returning to my room. 

*Kanato stands up and leaves* 

Yui: Ah, you guys… 

Ruki: So it’s the same old… 

Shin: As per usual, those two don’t have any sense of cooperation. With this, I suppose this family meeting is over… I’ll always support you, Brother. If anything happens, let me know.

Ruki: Yeah. I’m counting on you.

Shin: I’ll go and patrol around the mansion first, then.

*Shin stands up* 

Shin: Ah, right, Eve.

Yui: Eh?

Shin: You’ve chosen to be here, so making sure that you do not start wanting to go to one of the other houses is for your own good.

Yui: I’m not thinking about that at all!

Shin: Huh. I wonder if that’s true, as Ayato’s reaction just now wasn’t like him. You’ve been seeming different today compared to what you’ve been like before.   

Yui: (Did he notice that I’ve gotten back my memories?)

Shin: Ah, well. It’s not like you’ll be able to run away from us easily, anyway.

*Shin walks off* 

Yui: Shin… 

Ruki: I see. So Shin noticed it too…

*Ruki stands up and walks over* 

Yui: Eh, Ruki…?

Ruki: As I thought, you’ve changed. Is it because I fed on you in the courtyard? 

Yui: …! 

Ruki: Bullseye… I thought of what might happen, and hid the fact that I fed on you from Shin, but… Back then, it seems like you remembered something. Did you remember your duty to help me become King? 

Yui: (Ah… right. To Ruki and everyone else that I’m dealing with right now, the fact that I’ve changed…) (It seems like see it as a change with regard to me being the Legendary Eve.) Hey, like you said, I did remember something. However, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fight for the Throne. It’s more important than that!

Ruki: You don’t think there isn’t anything more important than the Throne?

Yui: There is! Please, hear me out to the end. Something strange is happening to everyone’s memories. It happened to me too… But after you fed on me, I managed to get a hold of the real me again! 

Ruki: Huh. So?

Yui: This isn’t Kaminashi, where I am living with you all. I’m not sure why we’re here right now, but… There’s really no need to be fighting in this place forever.  More than anything, Kou, Yuma, and Azusa… they’re your loving brothers, Ruki. So please! Stop the dispute! 

Ruki: …I see. So that’s why you tried to influence our discussion just now. Kou and the others are all members of the other houses. Though it’s an impromptu made up story, my brothers and I—that’s just nonsense.

Yui: (Ah, he doesn't believe me at all!) I’m not joking! It’s no good at all for you Mukami brothers to be fighting like this! Please, believe me…! 

Ruki: What will you do if I believe you? Let’s say that we view your story as reality. Do you think I should go and hold hands with the other three, and cry in a circle? Ridiculous. [T/N lmao what a savage] 

Yui: (That’s… he’s not listening to me at all… it doesn’t seem like he’s willing to remember either.) (Even though I thought that I could help Ruki get his memories back if I could just talk to him…)

Ruki: For a moment, I thought you might be of use to me when I noticed a change in your tone, but you’ve failed your only task. You’re not a way to for me to become King. You’re just an insult.  

Yui: (Ah, he’s leaving!) W-wait! 

*Yui grabs his sleeve*

Ruki: …What is the meaning of this?

Yui: Ah, that’s…

Ruki: It’s as I’ve been saying. I’ve been granting you a certain degree of freedom. However, I don’t remember giving you permission to express your opinions. Neither do I remember allowing you to stop your master from returning to his room. 

Yui: (…! His aura… it’s scaring me. Is this the real Ruki?) 

Ruki: Getting in the way of your role as a livestock shows that you’ve got some nerve.

*grabby sound*

Yui: Ah?! 

*Yui falling to the ground* 

Yui: Ouch…

Ruki: The sight of you on your hands and knees suits you. Today, I’ll let you off like that. 

*rustling sounds, cue the god awful organ music* 

Yui: Aah! (He’s pressing on top of me from above… He’s heavy… I can’t move.) Hey, wait… Please, Ruki, stop! 

Ruki: Right now, it seems I’ve been telling you to not express your opinion. You really can’t follow up to your master’s orders, can you? Unruly livestock should be disciplined. So, from where shall I feed on you, then? Your arm, the nape of your neck… Or, somewhere around your ears— 

Yui: *holds her breath*

Ruki: Well then, this spot seems fine. It doesn’t only hurt, but you should be able to hear the sound of me sipping your blood well enough. I’ll properly engrave your body *sips*

*struggling sounds*

Yui: Ugh… Ah… S-stop… Ruki…

Ruki: You really aren’t competent enough to learn. Still expressing your opinion?  

Yui: N… no… (I’m being pushed down by Ruki’s body… I can’t, run…) 

Ruki: You can’t move, can you? Remember it well. Who controls you. Shut up and let me act accordingly… *more sippy sounds*

Yui: Ah… (It hurts…! It really seems like he’s gone back to the old Ruki this way…) *breathes heavily*

Ruki: In the end, you finally obey. You’re so troublesome… If you’ve learned it with your body, watch out from now on. So you don’t mess with your master’s mood anymore, hm? If this happens again, I won’t have mercy. I’ll pierce your body thoroughly with my fangs… remember it well, with that incompetent head of yours.

Yui: (So this… is Ruki now… Maybe, if there’s no way out of this situation…) (If that’s the case, what should I do—) 

Ruki: *gasps for breath*

Yui: (Huh…? Ruki…?)

Ruki: …What was that, just now?

Yui: What’s… wrong…?

Ruki: It’s nothing serious… It seems like somehow, I drank too much of Eve’s blood. To the extent that I can remember what dizziness feels like, I’d say that it was rather strong.

Yui: (Dizziness?) 

Ruki: The disciplining is over. I’m going to rest in my room.

*Ruki walks off*

Yui: Ah… (There he goes…) (The bite mark hurts… It might have been too long since we did this…) I should go back to my room as well… If Ayato or the rest find me like this, I might be bitten all over again… (But still, Ruki was dizzy, and I wonder if he’s alright…) (Whenever he bit me until now, this never happened…) 

-LOCATION: RUKI’S ROOM- 

Ruki: (…It’s the same as the time I drank her blood in the courtyard.) (The extreme dizziness, and the phenomenon of images flashing through my mind that I’d never seen before…) (The images that I saw… were Eve and I, and three more people…) (The people by my side… who were they?)

[fleursdesoleil]

☽ - a memory of their father

Monty doesn't know if his father's ghost still lingers in the walls of his childhood home. (His grandmother wanted to find out, Cecilia refused, and he can still remember the ugly legal battle that followed because his mother kept calling him at school to try and drag him into it.) Still, spirits or not, there is a shadow of him left behind, memories that haunt him the second he steps back through the doors, worse than the last time because this time Cecilia isn't home. She's in the Magistrate's custody, and tomorrow he'll sit across the table from her and ask her why she betrayed her only child.

Tonight, he leads Emil through the echoes of his past, and few of them are warm and kind like the memory of a mother proudly checking off marks on a sloped ceiling. He doesn't have an old toybox to show him, just his father's study that looks painfully unchanged except for the accumulating dust. He doesn't know why Cecilia didn't gut it, understanding of his own flesh and blood escaping him, but it's clear she had little use for it. Maybe it was haunted, too much of the man in a single room to erase even if she tore the wallpaper down or replaced all the furniture.

Here, where he sat with his father and played chess across a small table. “He hated to lose, but he was always disappointed when I did. There was no winning with him.” It's said idly, thoughtfully, to the man he brought here with him, Monty’s fingers skimming over the pieces before he tips over the king in some painful metaphor he doesn't stop to analyze.

Here, and he kneels down, opening a small cabinet to pull out an aging bottle of cognac, still sealed, when he thought his father was saving it for a special occasion. Maybe it would've been in celebration when he heard Montgomery was made Head Significant, maybe it would've been to dull a deep, unforgiving disappointment when he found out his son was gay. He doesn't know the answer, when he thinks now that his father died before he could ever know him as anything but an unforgiving statue.

(The pictures he finds on his father’s desk only add to his uncertainty when they feel strangely sentimental; an image from the wedding of Nathan and Cecilia, gaze bright and adoring as he looks at his new bride in her white dress. Manufactured or manipulated or even sincere, Monty doesn’t doubt that it was real to him, when he never saw his father look at anyone else the same way. But next to it is a framed portrait from his graduation, another tucked in the corner from a beach trip with Aunt Vivian and her two young children, and something clenches painfully in his heart when he sees the distant look on his own face.) 

Here, the old armchair where a smaller version of Montgomery sat and read and studied every book his father set next to him. (They still sit on the shelf, and he thinks about taking some of them, notes he hid in the margin and a sudden uncertainty why the man never got angry at him for it.)

Instead he takes the bottle of cognac, stalling out briefly as the tour of memories continues past his mother’s sitting room. Because it didn’t used to be, it used to be the room his father took him to train his gift; nicks he finds still etched in the wall from daggers he threw with a thought alone. (He could trace an echo of them on his own skin if he wanted to, harder lessons to hone instincts that saved both his life and Emil’s enough times to make it worth it, but he doesn’t go searching for them when he’s happier covering up those scars with ink and bright flowers.) Now the room is littered with plush furniture and flowing drapes and forced mystique, the smell of incense and tea lingering even without her presence.

He doesn’t linger long, leading Emil up the stairs to his old room, one that feels entirely devoid of personality. Shelves of books, but most far more academic than the kind he reads now. Some children’s tale written in French that he pulls from the shelf, skimming through it with a distant smile before he leaves it on the bed. (A hag stone still hangs from the corner; he thinks he’ll take that with him too when he goes.)

“Come on,” he says. Opening the window onto a balcony that barely counts as one, a small ledge and wrought iron gating around it. One that requires careful footing, but he remembers it with instinct more than memory, one foot against the railing as he climbs up onto the corner of the roof, a hand extended to help his boyfriend up with a muted smile. One that grows wider when he finds the old pack of cigarettes, rotten and crumbling, still hidden beneath the eaves from one of the few times he came back to visit after leaving for school.

“When I was little I used to come up here to read,” he says. “When I was older, I used to come up here to smoke.” But it’s strange either way, to be here with someone else when this was where he came to be entirely alone. Gaze skimming over buildings, both close and those rendered nothing but distant spires and lights. An entire city stretching out around them, and he thinks of a book Emil handed him and the city they could never agree on, because he thinks this is some reflection of the same. Alone, maybe, but still a part of something, and he feels quieter here, drawing in a breath before he cracks open his father’s bottle of cognac. Taking a swallow from it before passing it over, and if he doubts he’ll ever really know what he was saving it for, maybe his son coming home could count for enough.

[salveticn]

[salveticn]

𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐒 & 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐒

No , no -- I don't want to live under a starless sky . I don't want to walk on a path without flowers . I don't want to hide my emotions behind a smile .   I want to hold your hand , brush your lips , hear you say once again that your heart blooms with daisies when you think of me . Life is sweeter with your name on it .

this is a commission from the talented ssscty for me . DO NOT REBLOG .

[salveticn]

;; i frame this on my wall , let it be known

[salveticn]

☽ || TAGS !!