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#eternity will never fade in our hearts carry on
writingpaperghost · 4 months
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Linking With the Only One Called You (Chapter 1)
Amanogawa High School was for those who wanted to reach the stars. Ryuusei Sakuta wanted to be anywhere but, yet he finds himself transferring there anyway. After a whirlwind of a first day, Ryuusei finds himself as a member of the newly formed Kamen Rider Club, as Kamen Rider Fourze. As the Club gains new members and investigate the Zodiart appearances at the school, it becomes clear that not everyone at Amanogawa are what they seem, and even fellow students may turn out to be their enemy. Can friendship really endure when most of the Club has no interest in it?
And just what is the space loving Yuuki Jojima always up to?
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56095588/chapters/142483234
Everything about Amanogawa High School was too bright; its students, its faculty, even its uniform, with its bright blues and reds. Amanogawa was where you went when you wanted a bright future – when you wanted to go to the stars. In that regard, Ryuusei Sakuta was horribly out of place, he had no desire to go to the stars, and his new uniform felt more like a prison compared to his old, dull, uniform back at Subaruboshi. Though he’d shed Subaruboshi’s brown uniform for Amanogawa’s bright blue and red, he wasn’t happy about it.
Amanogawa was a step towards the stars, and Ryuusei wanted nothing more than to stay on Earth.
Where Jirou was.
As he walked past the gate of Amanogawa, his new school, he checked his watch. He still had plenty of time, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. His parents thought that a change of scenery would be good for him, leave behind his problems at Subaruboshi. Ryuusei begged to differ, though, as now he had to start at a new school and deal with the fact that his best friend was in the hospital showing no signs of waking up.
“Make sure to make a few friends,” his mother had told him when she’d seen him off that morning. The last thing Ryuusei wanted to do was make friends, at Amanogawa of all places. Not when he was more worried about the friend he already had.
The homeroom teacher of class 2B seemed nice enough, Ms. Sonoda. He didn’t get to talk with her much, before class, not that he particularly cared to. He wanted the next year or so to go as quickly as possible, so he could go back to Subaruboshi. The bell rang and the class began to quiet down.
“Everyone, we have a new student, through the exchange program with Subaruboshi High School.” Ms. Sonoda introduced Ryuusei, and now all eyes were on him.
It was fortunate, or unfortunate for Ryuusei, that Subaruboshi had recently begun an exchange program with Amanogawa. That program was the only reason he’d found himself at a different school, now. He had the grades for it, but it was his parents who’d practically forced him to apply. It was just his luck that Ryuusei was the one chosen.
“I’m Ryuusei Sakuta,” He hated that he had to be here. “Let’s get along.”
“You can take the empty seat there in front of Utahoshi.” It wasn’t like Ryuusei knew who that was, but it was easy to tell where she was referring to. There was only one open seat in the classroom, after all. He supposed that made the grouchy looking boy behind it Utahoshi. Not that it mattered much, Ryuusei figures as he heads to sit down. He’s not here to make friends.
The girl beside him smiles, “I’m Yuuki Jojima,” she seems too friendly for Ryuusei’s liking. Ms. Sonoda begins to talk, though Jojima doesn’t seem to pay her much mind. “I can show you around-“
“Please pay attention, Jojima,” Ms. Sonoda called out. Jojima winced a little, but turned her attention towards the front with a small frown.
The next few hours went by quickly enough, Ryuusei let the instruction hold his attention more than much else. It was still far too long for his taste, and he was relieved when lunch finally came. He had intended to make a beeline for the cafeteria, but was stopped by Jojima.
“Let me show you around,” Jojima insisted.
Ryuusei hid his grimace with a polite smile, “No thank you, I’ll be alright.”
She frowned just a little, before that smile returned, “Amanogawa’s got some interesting groups, you’re new here, so you’re probably not going to fit in with anyone…”
“I’m not too worried about that,” Friendship isn’t needed here anyway.
“Come on,” Jojima grabbed his wrist and began to drag him out of the classroom, barely giving him any time to protest further. He sighed, deciding it would probably be best to let her do what she wanted.
At the very least, she waited until he had gotten lunch to launch onto her explanation of Amanogawa’s cliques. “You’ve got the popular kids, the football jocks, the nerds, the delinquents, the occult goths…” She listed, gesturing to each group. “And then you’ve got groups like them. I don’t even know what their deal is. Just that Utahoshi probably spends more time in the nurse’s office than in class…” She gestured to where Utahoshi sat with another girl, who appeared to be something of a goth.
“All schools have their in groups of some kind,” Ryuusei responded. That was true even of Subaruboshi, though perhaps not as noticeably as here. Amanogawa appeared to allow a lot more leeway in their dress code. Well, Ryuusei had read the handbook, he knew for a fact their dress code was very lenient, not even requiring the school uniform. His parents had simply insisted he had to wear it, to his own dismay.
“Maybe…” She frowned a little again, before looking at the time. “Ah! Sorry, I have to go, I’m supposed to meet with someone!”
Ryuusei shrugged, “It’s fine.” He wants her gone, anyway. Something about her smile was starting to get on his nerves. She was way too earnest.
Oh, and that odd pair of Utahoshi and the goth had disappeared. They, like Yuuki, must have had somewhere else they’d rather be. Then again, so did Ryuusei, unfortunately for him, he just couldn’t go to where he’d rather be.
The rest of the day passed at about the same speed as earlier. Ryuusei didn’t mind per se, the lectures and assignments were a distraction from his worry. Still, he was relieved when the final bell rang for the day. He needed to try to figure out more about what happened to Jirou, he doubted Amanogawa had any information. He would head back to Subaruboshi to investigate further.
Along the way, he passed by where the football team was practicing, and he heard a commotion. It sounded… an awful lot like a fight, but not any kind of fight he was familiar with. He ducked behind a building and looking around the corner, he saw some monster attacking the football players. What the hell was that?
He might not care for the football players, but he couldn’t allow them to simply be attacked. Tossing his bag aside, he ran at the monster, kicking it away from one of the players. When his feet land back on the ground, he focuses. He has plenty of practice for this, and while the monster was clearly not all that hurt by his kick, he could be enough to hold it off until the all the players were able to escape.
As Ryuusei fought off the monster, he noted it had a weird pattern on it. Something about the locations and arrangement of the circles and lines felt… familiar, though he couldn’t place where.
His fist fight with the monster was interrupted by a bright yellow blur, knocking it away and sending Ryuusei awkwardly tumbling to the ground to avoid the blur. He blinked, and then he could see that the blur that had knocked the monster away was some kind of robot.
“Careful, Utahoshi,” A voice called out, “You’ll hit your new classmate.” Ryuusei glanced in the direction of the voice, finding the goth girl who had been with Utahoshi at lunch as the source.
From the yellow robot came a scoff, the only response to the goth girl’s observation. Frankly, Ryuusei would appreciate it if he – presumably Utahoshi in there – showed a little more concern about not hurting him. There were a lot of questions on Ryuusei’s mind, but he pulled himself up and hurried off to hide behind the corner of a building. He watched as the robot fought the monster, the goth girl watching as well.
She spoke again, “That seems to be the Orion Zodiart,” She glanced at the pages of a book, though Ryuusei couldn’t say as to what the book was about. “A hunter… and he seems to be hunting the students.”
“Now’s not the time for theories,” From the yellow robot came a voice, presumably Utahoshi’s. He sounded strained and out of breath.
It seemed piloting that robot took its toll on Utahoshi, as his movements became more sluggish, and soon the monster was able to get away. Out from the robot came Utahoshi, looking exhausted.
The goth girl hurried over to him, “Utahoshi,” She didn’t seem surprised, but certainly concerned. “Did you overdo it again?”
Utahoshi shook his head, “I’m fine.” Still, he was out of breath, and the goth girl didn’t even seem to believe him.
“Let’s get the Dizer back, then you can get some rest at the Hutch.” The goth girl helped him up.
“Yes… where’d that Sakuta go?” Utahoshi looked around, prompting Ryuusei to duck out of sight, hidden behind the building. He could still faintly hear the two.
There’s a moment of silence, and then the goth girl responded, “He ran off. Probably far away from here.”
“If he’s smart,” Utahoshi’s voice sounded almost dismissive. “But then again, he tried to fight a Zodiart, Nozama, I doubt he’s that bright.”
The goth girl, presumably Nozama, said, “Let’s just get going. It’s better not to linger here.”
Ryuusei waited a bit, until the sound of footsteps and machinery was fading. Utahoshi and Nozama obviously knew something about that monster – a Zodiart, Utahoshi had called it – and Ryuusei wanted to know more. He couldn’t be sure, but it wasn’t impossible that this monster, and by proxy Utahoshi and Nozama, were connected to that night with Jirou…
He’d know for sure if he saw one of those switches.
Carefully, he followed Utahoshi and Nozama. They stored the robot machine, the Dizer, away, and then reentered the school. This part of the school didn’t seem like it was often used, especially given the storage room that the pair had entered. When Ryuusei caught up, he found the storage room empty, no sign of Utahoshi and Nozama.
He investigated the room, though it wasn’t big. There wasn’t really anywhere for anyone to hide, save for a locker. And a locker wouldn’t be big enough for two people to comfortably, if fit at all. Still, there could be a sign of them in there, maybe their bags or something…
When Ryuusei opened the locker, he was met with a bright, blinding white light.
What was this?
He then realized that the white light appeared to be some kind of hallway. He thinks, at the very end, he can see some kind of door. Taking a breath, he stepped in, tightly holding the strap of his bag, and he shut the door of the locker behind him. Step by step, he traversed through the tunnel, seeming to be endlessly white in every direction, save for in front of and behind him.
Finally, he reached the door. It wasn’t like the locker door, or even a regular door. This one was metal, seeming almost like a hatch. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle and turned it, opened the door.
On the other side, the first thing Ryuusei registers is a lot of white. Not as blindingly as the tunnel, but certainly white. He could spy some English text on walls and machinery, but he doesn’t get a chance to try to make out what it says. Instead, he feels the eyes of Utahoshi and Nozama on him.
“What are you doing here?” Utahoshi is quick to ask, standing up from the table, where his briefcase was opened.
Ryuusei turned his attention to them, for now. “I followed you,” He answered plainly.
“Followed us…?” Nozama mumbled, a book clutched to her chest, her fingers covering the lower part of her face.
“That monster, what was it?” He leaned against the wall beside the door, eyes still trained on Utahoshi and Nozama.
“That’s none of your business,” Utahoshi answered, almost as soon as Ryuusei had finished his question. Obviously, he wouldn’t be all that forthcoming with answers. Still, Ryuusei wouldn’t give up so easily.
He frowned, “You know what it is, I heard the two of you talking about it.”
“It’s none of your business,” Utahoshi repeated, this time more forcefully.
Nozama watched them, carefully and curiously. She seemed mostly willing to let this conversation stay between Ryuusei and Utahoshi, and Ryuusei was fine with that. Utahoshi likely had more answers, based on what Ryuusei had seen so far. Though she obviously knew something about what was going on.
Recalling that fateful night, Ryuusei remembered the device in Jirou’s hand… “Does it have something to do with… switches?” That was the best way to describe the device.
That elicited a slight change in expression from Utahoshi, “How did you…?”
“I’ve seen it before, Utahoshi. And it wasn’t here.” While it wasn’t entirely true, Utahoshi’s reaction said enough that his hunch that the incident with Jirou and this monster at Amanogawa were somehow connected.
That statement seemed concern Utahoshi, who took a step back and paced just a little, in thought. “I hadn’t thought any Zodiarts had appeared outside of Amanogawa…”
“Maybe,” Nozama spoke up, taking a few steps closer to Ryuusei, examining him, “this is a sign, a fate that brought Sakuta to this school. Drawn to the Zodiarts.”
Her statement was… odd. Ryuusei wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, though judging by Utahoshi’s expression, he was somewhat used to it, though still not particularly thrilled. “I doubt that’s the case…” He then turned his attention to Ryuusei, “You need to forget about all of this. It under control.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Ryuusei had seen their solution for that, hitting the monster – Zodiart – with that mech. It wasn’t an awful solution, but it clearly wasn’t the most effective, especially seeing how awful it left Utahoshi. He seemed better now, but it was obvious that piloting that thing left him very drained. It couldn’t be the most viable solution.
“Like you would know,” Utahoshi scoffed.
Looking between Ryuusei and Utahoshi, Nozama wonder aloud, “Maybe he’s the one who could use…” Her gaze then wanders over to a desk, where a strange belt sat.
“No,” Utahoshi shut down that thought before Nozama could elaborate any further. Ryuusei got the impression that, despite the amount of time that they spent together, Utahoshi and Nozama didn’t appear to be all that friendly with each other. “We don’t need anyone-“
Ryuusei decides he can’t upset Utahoshi any more quickly, so he asked, “Just what is that?”
“You ask too many questions,” Utahoshi snapped. “Leave.”
Now that Ryuusei knew the way into their little base, there was no harm in waiting until they were gone to take a closer look. It might even let him get a closer look at that odd belt. As it was, it didn’t seem likely he’d get any more answers from Utahoshi and Nozama, at least with how annoyed Utahoshi seemed.
“Fine then,” He shifted his bag on his shoulder and then turned and left. He’d come back later, when they were gone.
Once back at the school proper, Ryuusei situates himself in a nook by the hallway leading to the storage room, from here, he should be able to see Utahoshi and Nozama leave. Now it was just a matter of killing time, waiting until they finally left. Hopefully, it would be before it got too late, though Ryuusei could always tell his parents he was practicing, surely they’d believe at least one familiar routine was good for him.
Even if, truthfully, he’d kept her practice to places where he was alone and out of the way. He felt too uneasy practicing around others, since that night. A repeat wouldn’t even hurt that much, he just… couldn’t shake the feeling. The memory of that night stays with him, and all Ryuusei can hope to do is find a way to fix what happened. To wake Jirou.
His gaze fell to the watch that Jirou had given him, now a reminder of why he had to find a way to save him. And if that meant figuring out what was going on at this school with Utahoshi, Nozama, and these Zodiart creatures, then so be it. He wasn’t certain there was any connection with what happened to Jirou, but Utahoshi’s reaction gave him the most evidence he’d had yet, and he wasn’t letting go of a lead this easily.
His opportunity arose quick enough, as only about half an hour or so later, Nozama and Utahoshi appeared out of the storage room. Much like after fighting that monster before, Utahoshi looked worse for wear, Nozama helping him along. He can just barely hear Nozama mumbled, “You really are prince of the nurse’s office,” as they pass by. Based on that comment and Jojima’s earlier one at lunch, Ryuusei gets the suspicion that Utahoshi’s poor health was a repeating occurrence.
Regardless of the regularity, as soon as the two were out of the hallway, Ryuusei had a chance to examine their little base more closely. He slips out of his hiding spot and back to the storage room. With no hesitation this time, he opens up the locker and enters the white tunnel. Wherever this led, it certainly wasn’t in the school, he could gather that much even from his first visit. That, and the odd white tunnel certainly helped that theory.
On the other side of the door in that tunnel was where he’d previously spoken with Utahoshi and Nozama. Now that they weren’t here and he could get a closer look, he could see the words “Rabbit Hutch” written on the wall in English. The machinery that was present along the walls appeared very scientific, not something you’d find in an average high school – or even one like Amanogawa. Something about it seemed very… science fiction, in a way. The sort of thing you only saw in regard to space and such.
He didn’t know how much time he had, though. Nozama may come back once she’d gotten Utahoshi to the nurse’s office. He’d have to either be out of this place by then or find somewhere to hide away and avoid notice. So he turned his sights to the belt from earlier. Whatever it was, Utahoshi was adamant that it wouldn’t involve Ryuusei, and frankly, Ryuusei wasn’t sure why Nozama would even suggest that it might.
The belt was… odd. It looked a bit like a kid’s toy, in a way, a light blue color with a lever on the left side. There were four slots, two on each side of some kind of display that maybe showed the silhouette of a person, but it was hard to tell with the screen dark. He picked up the belt, and though it appeared light, there was a certain weight to it that half surprised Ryuusei. It was no kid’s toy, that was for sure.
No, there was this certain… sensation pulsing through it. The casing blocked a lot of it, but every few seconds, Ryuusei felt a tingle, a little jolt as if it was trying to tell him something in it was more than just a strange device. In some ways, it made him want to drop it, end any and all contact with it, but in others… in other ways, he felt like it was trying to tell him something. Trying to reach out and…
The door opened, snapping Ryuusei out of his thoughts. In walked Nozama, who didn’t show it if she was surprised to see him. “Sakuta.”
“Nozama,” He said, quickly setting the belt back down, the odd sensation ceasing. A phantom of the feeling still lingered on his fingertips.
She regarded him for a moment, her gaze once again covering him, searching him, like she was trying to find something. It made Ryuusei uneasy, prompting him to cross his arms. Her lips curved into a smile, “Welcome to the Rabbit Hutch, Sakuta. Something has brought you here.”
“Something has brought me here?” He was unsure what she meant.
“Yes… a cosmic fate, I believe, has brought you here. Your seeking answers, and the moon surely holds them.” She responded, showing him the cover of her book. The title read Astral Moon, the cover depicting a moon surrounded by odd symbols. It appeared to be some kind of fiction book, though knowing so little about Nozama it was hard to say much more. He was beginning to think she fell under the category of occult goth, though.
He blinked, realizing that she was just exaggerating. Of course she was, there was no way she could know anything about why he was so interested in this all or anything about a… a “cosmic fate”. Amanogawa High School is full of characters, it seems.
“That’s…” He struggled to find the words to respond to her with.
She walked over to a lever, “Let me show you where we really are.” She pulled it up, and the shutters that previously covered the windows along the top of the ceiling pulled up, revealing the outside. The very dark and star filled outside – and most notably, the Earth.
He could see the Earth.
“…What the hell?” If he could see the Earth, then he wasn’t on the Earth. The Rabbit Hutch was not on Earth. How? How could two high schools students be hanging out on something in space?
Nozama had an amused smile, “The Rabbit Hutch is a moon base,” She said, “Utahoshi’s father used to work here.”
“Utahoshi’s father?”
She nodded, “He was a scientist. He created that device,” She pointed at the belt he’d been holding, “The Fourze Driver.”
That explained why Utahoshi reacted so oddly. He was probably protective of his father’s work. But just what even was this… Fourze Driver? He looked between the window and Nozama, “Why are you telling me about all this?”
“Neither Utahoshi nor I can use the Fourze Driver, he says it must take a certain person…” Her smile faded, just a little, forming into a small frown.
“And you think I might be that person?” Ryuusei couldn’t imagine why she’d think that. They’d just met and have interacted only twice now. He hadn’t even really known about the Zodiarts until an hour or so ago.
Nodding again, Nozama said, “Your arrival is a sign from the stars-“
He shook his head, “I really don’t think that’s the case.” The stars were sending no signs, and certainly not about him. She’s way too into that occult stuff.
“And yet… you’re one of the few to know about the Zodiarts, and on your first day…” While he might have been one of the few to know what they were called, he doubted so few else had seen them. Even the one earlier would have been seen by the whole football team, and if there had been more of them before, they certainly would have been seen by at least a few more people.
Before they could continue the conversation further, one of the computers beeped, pulling both of their attentions. The screen turned on, displaying that Zodiart from before, seemingly attacking students again.
“The Orion Zodiart,” Nozama observed, eyes darting between the screen, Ryuusei, and the Fourze Driver.
It didn’t seem to be outside this time, so it must be a different attack, one occurring now. “That’s the school’s hallways…” He said, then dashed out the door. Utahoshi’s mech wouldn’t be able to fight inside, and it seemed he didn’t exactly have a plan for that. If it took a certain kind of person to use the Fourze Driver, then they were better off just finding another way to deal with the Zodiart.
And maybe it knew something about what happened to Jirou.
“Sakuta!” Nozama called out, but Ryuusei was already out the door. He was wasting no time in finding where that Zodiart was.
He ran through the halls of Amanogawa, searching for the one from the video. That, and for the fleeing students. Whatever direction they were going, he knew Orion must be in the opposite. When he finally found Orion, he kept behind a corner, watching. It seemed like Orion was after something – maybe the football team? Or his previous attack on them could have been coincidental. It was hard to say yet, but figuring it out might give an advantage against Orion.
While he was watching Orion, Nozama caught up to him, holding the Fourze Driver. “Sakuta,” Her voice was quiet, clearly aware that it was possible for Orion to hear them. “If you can use the Fourze Driver, you’ll be able to fight Orion.”
“If it’s so picky, then it probably won’t like me either,” He responded, looking away from over the corner and over at Nozama.
She held the Fourze Driver out to him anyway, “There’s only one way to know for sure.” There were devices slotted into the holes now, seeming like some kind of switches, but different from the one he’d seen Jirou with. Orange, blue, yellow, and black. She practically shoved it in his hands. “Flip the switches in the belt, then pull the lever. If it doesn’t work, nothing will happen.”
He takes it, begrudgingly, “And if it does?”
“You’ll know,” She smiled, taking several steps back.
Ryuusei sighed, but she wouldn’t be happy until he gave it a try. He placed the belt on his waist, straps coming out and locking around him, fitting perfectly. Then, going across, he activated each switch.
3…
2…
1…
It was quite noisy, a glance around the corner shows that it caught Orion’s attention. “Nozama,” He said, hurriedly.
She smiled, almost disturbingly, “It’s working. Pull the lever and say transform.”
“What?”
“Do it!”
With little else to do other than run, Ryuusei complies. He reached down for the lever and pulled it, “Transform.”
And a sudden burst of steam appeared from the Driver, obscuring him. Then armor appeared, most of what Ryuusei can make out is white. Somehow… it seemed Nozama was right, the Fourze Driver did work for him, though how she knew that was beyond him. It must have been a coincidence.
“So this is Fourze…” Nozama breathed, amazed.
He glanced back at her, “Fourze?”
She nodded, “Yes, Kamen Rider Fourze!” There was an unusual excitement in her voice.
Kamen Rider Fourze, huh? Well, Ryuusei could work with that. If what Nozama and Utahoshi had implied was right, then he should be able to deal with Orion easy. The armor still felt strange on him, pulsing and jolting just as the Fourze Driver had, but he could ignore it. He had a Zodiart to deal with, after all.
“Right, then,” He turned his attention to Orion, “This is between you and me.”
Ryuusei ran at Orion. Fighting wasn’t a new thing to Ryuusei, but this was different than anything before. Spars weren’t intended to be full out fights, weren’t intended to be stopping someone from hurting others. This was a fight, between Fourze and Orion, one that Ryuusei wouldn’t lose. The armor might be new, but the movements needed weren’t, they were practiced, like second nature to him.
His first order of business was to get Orion out of the halls and into somewhere more open. That would be tricky, even with windows, he’d still have to get Orion through…
“Fighting in here will be too hard,” Nozama called out, “Use the Rocket Switch to get him outside!”
She said that like he had anyway of knowing which of the Switches in the belt was which. “A little more description would be useful!” He called back, blocking a swing from Orion.
“The one on the far right,” He ducked to the side and flipped the Switch she said to.
Rocket on!
Out from the Switch came a bright orange rocket that attached itself to Ryuusei’s right arm. “Is this actually-“ Before he can finish his question, the rocket’s thrusters activate. Though it took him a moment to get it under control enough, the rocket gave him enough force he could grab on to Orion and let the rocket take them through the ceiling and out of the building.
They land roughly on the ground, the rocket still blaring. The momentum keeps pushing Ryuusei, forcing him to keep moving around. Maybe he could use it to help him fight, though. After weaving through a few attempts at attacking him, he manages to land a hit on Orion and gets a moment to turn off the Switch. His arm hurt from having a rocket on it, even if the effect was lessened by the suit.
He and Orion resumed their fight. While the rocket was helpful and all, Ryuusei was far more comfortable using his fists, it’s what he knew best. They trade blows until they push each other back, giving some space, and the Switch on the far left began to flash and beep. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he flipped it on anyway.
Radar on!
From his left arm came a panel and a satellite dish. Out came an annoyed voice, “Use the other Switches, for goodness sake.”
“Utahoshi?” Sure enough, that was Utahoshi’s voice, and on the screen was him, seemingly in the Rabbit Hutch once more. He must have hurried there when he realized Orion had appeared.
“Yes,” He said, still sounding annoyed, “If you use Radar, this Switch, together with Launcher, the one on the middle right, you’ll be able to aim missiles at Orion.”
Utahoshi would probably know how these Switches work best, and given this is a fight, Ryuusei figured it would be best to listen to him. “I’ll take your word for it.” He reached and flipped the blue Switch on the middle right.
Launcher on!
He pointed the dish on his arm towards Orion, watching as the screen changed until it seemed to have found its target. He planted his right leg down and the blue apparatus that had attached itself there fired missiles at Orion. Each landed on him, just as Utahoshi said they would.
“Good,” Utahoshi said, “Now you can go back to close combat. Change the Launcher Switch for the other one you have.”
“The other…” Sure enough, he found a Switch of a lighter blue than the Launcher Switch. “Alright, then.” Again, he’d have to take Utahoshi’s word on it. It flipped off the Launcher Switch and swapped it out for the lighter blue one, activating it.
Chainsaw on!
Replacing the launcher on his right leg, now a light blue chainsaw appeared. At this point, it wasn’t even a surprise. It wasn’t exactly Ryuusei’s style, but he could make it work. Now his kicks with that leg would simply… have a bit extra blade to them. Though he attempts to kick Orion, Orion blasts at him, keeping him from getting close.
What a pain. He deactivated the Chainsaw Switch, it wouldn’t do him any good if he couldn’t get close. Well, he’d just have to be faster…
Rocket on!
With the Rocket Switch, he had both more speed, as well as the ability to take to the sky, allowing him to weave between Orion’s blasts. Now how to deal with Orion… he recalls the one Switch he hasn’t used yet, the yellow one. “Let’s see what this one does.”
Drill on!
From the Radar, Utahoshi called out, “What are you doing? Don’t-“ but Ryuusei just rolled his eyes and flipped the Switch off. Utahoshi’s advice was helpful, sure, but Ryuusei could handle it from here. He knew what each of the five Switches he had did, now it was just a matter of using them to defeat Orion.
“Let’s end this fight,” Using the rocket to speedily propel him towards Orion, Ryuusei held the foot that the drill was on out into a kick. He flew through Orion, causing an explosion as the drill dug itself into the ground.
Turning to look at where Orion once stood, he couldn’t see anything. Maybe the Zodiarts weren’t related to that switch Jirou had…
“You did it!” He heard Nozama call out, finally catching up to him. “The first Zodiart defeated by Kamen Rider Fourze…”
Ryuusei sighed, “I guess… what even is a Kamen Rider?”
“Well, urban legends but… they’re heroes who fight for justice!” Nozama quickly pulled something up on a tablet she held, showing him videos of various masked and armored people fighting monsters.
“Heroes who fight for justice…” Well that was not how Ryuusei would describe himself at all. Then again, it seemed likely Nozama had given Fourze that title herself.
Before their conversation could proceed, along came Utahoshi in his mech, “Ryuusei Sakuta.” He said, voice dripping in anger.
It seems Ryuusei had really pissed him off. Not that he thought it took a whole lot to get on Utahoshi’s nerves. “Utahoshi, it seems we’ll be working together from here-“
Utahoshi cut him off with a vicious “No,” and grabbed him by the waist, lifting him up.
“Utahoshi!” Nozama called out, obviously not pleased by this turn on events.
“I’m not working with you, nor am I letting you be Fourze.” Utahoshi said, the mech yanking the Fourze Driver off of Ryuusei as it set him on the ground. Ryuusei stumbled, but was thankful Utahoshi at least wasn’t trying to hurt him. With that mech he certainly could.
Talk about grouchy.
As the mech took off, Nozama called out Utahoshi’s name again, but he obviously wasn’t listening. Her frustration with his actions was evident.
Ryuusei turned and began to walk away. He’d figure something out, he knew how to get to the Rabbit Hutch, after all. Utahoshi would have a hard time keeping him from the Fourze Driver, and Ryuusei didn’t really care all that much what he thought of him.
What an exciting first day at his new school.
---
“So Fourze has appeared at my school,” A man with red eyes sat in a dark room, pondering the most recent events. Mitsuaki Gamou was a patient man, his plan had been in motion for eighteen years, he could wait a while longer. Especially as Fourze’s appearance would surely usher his plan along faster than he could ever otherwise dream of.
And, of course, he had his Horoscopes to aid him. Leo, Virgo, and Libra stood waiting for instruction. And though Scorpio had yet to be graced with his presence, he was being instructed by Libra. There was another he had high hopes for, but the time hadn’t come to give her a Switch, yet…
Yes, his plan was coming along wonderfully.
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brookghaib-blog · 3 months
Text
Whispers of the past
Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x reader
an: I will be turning this into a story, but i'm still navegating into the turn this will take, i'll warn that this will be more interesting in pt.2, I just wanted to give u a little something :)
Summary: Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro reminisces about his high school days with his lost love, Y/N, who went missing under mysterious circumstances. As he stands on the frontline, memories of their time together haunt him, fueling his determination to protect others and never give up hope.
pt.2
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Hoshina's pov:
The city lay in ruins, the aftermath of the kaiju attack evident in every shattered building and scorched street. As Vice Captain of the Japan Defense Force, it was my duty to remain vigilant, to lead my team with unwavering resolve. But in the quiet moments between battles, my mind often wandered to a time when life was simpler and love felt eternal.
We were high school sweethearts, Y/N and I. She was the light in my life, her laughter a melody that could brighten even the darkest days. I still remember the first time I saw her, standing by the school gates with a book in her hand, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and warmth.
"Hey, you're in my chemistry class, right?" I had approached her, trying to sound casual despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
She looked up, a smile spreading across her face. "That's right. You're Hoshina Soshiro, the kendo club captain."
"Yeah," I replied, scratching the back of my head. "I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. You seem really smart, and I could use all the help I can get."
She laughed, a sound that would become my favorite in the world. "Sure, I'd love to. How about after school today?"
From that moment on, we were inseparable. We spent countless hours studying together, sharing our dreams and fears, finding comfort in each other's presence. Our favorite spot was the old cherry blossom tree in the school courtyard, where we'd sit and watch the petals fall like snow, lost in our own world.
"Soshiro," Y/N said one afternoon, her head resting on my shoulder as we lay beneath the tree. "Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?"
I squeezed her hand, drawing strength from her touch. "I do. And I know that whatever happens, as long as we're together, we'll be okay."
She smiled, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "Promise me we'll always be there for each other, no matter what."
"I promise," I whispered, sealing our vow with a kiss.
But then, one day, she was gone. Vanished without a trace, leaving a gaping hole in my heart. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and still, there was no sign of her. I threw myself into my training, hoping that by becoming stronger, I could somehow find her, protect her, bring her back.
Years passed, and I rose through the ranks to become Vice Captain, my dedication to the Japan Defense Force unwavering. But the memory of Y/N never faded. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her smile, heard her laughter, felt the warmth of her hand in mine.
As I stood among the ruins, the weight of my responsibilities heavy on my shoulders, I couldn't help but wonder where she was, if she was safe, if she thought of me as often as I thought of her. The not knowing was the hardest part, the uncertainty that gnawed at my soul.
But I held onto hope, clung to the belief that one day, I would find her. Until then, I would fight. For her, for the promise we made, for the future we dreamed of under the cherry blossom tree.
"Y/N," I whispered into the night, the stars above a silent witness to my vow. "I'll find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter where you are, I'll bring you back."
And as the city began to rebuild, as the battle against the kaiju continued, I carried her memory with me, a beacon of light guiding me through the darkness.
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madaqueue · 4 months
Text
eternally, yours
chapter 4 | beneficence
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synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.
pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader
themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff, smut. language, blood drinking (it's a vampire fic lmao), non-mc death, mentions of cancer, religious imagery, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v sex. 18+, MDNI
word count: 6.1k
a/n: WOOF got carried away on this one lmao anywayyysss been playing w diff chapter lengths so let me know if this is too long/too short/just right/whatever other thoughts :)
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The night is easy, fortunately. The distance between your bed and where he lays on the couch creates enough physical distance for Choso to finally relax, thoughts of you subsiding as he rests his eyes.
For 150 years he had been fine, alone. Just him and his brothers, that was all he needed. Things weren’t complicated, they weren’t difficult, at least not like this. He doesn’t want anything to change.
So why can’t he forget the way your hands felt on him?
Shifting under the blankets, he sighs roughly.
“Can’t sleep?” your voice rings out in the darkness.
Immediately sitting up, he turns to face you, your silhouette outlined by the door frame to your bedroom. Rubbing your eyes, a soft yawn leaves your throat.
The moonlight casts a soft glow over the man resting on your couch, his hair released from his signature ties as it cascades over his shoulders. The dark circles under his eyes show a tiredness indicative of more than just one night of missed sleep. Maybe you two are more similar than you thought.
Padding to the kitchen, you rummage through the cupboards before pulling out a mug. “Tea?” you ask, not bothering to face him as you fill the kettle with water.
“S-sure,” he stutters, suddenly overtaken with your presence. Even in the dark he can see you perfectly, the slight mess of your hair, the loose t-shirt covering your body. Perfection.
Moving easily, his eyes never leave you until you’re waltzing towards him with two steaming cups in your hands. Placing one down in front of him, you take a tentative sip, testing the temperature.
Reaching for the cup he gulps it nervously, unable to feel the scalding liquid pouring down his throat. It doesn’t affect him, anyways, the physical sustenance one he had long since abandoned the need for.
Wincing at the heat of your beverage, you catch Choso drinking it unbothered from the corner of your eye. Maybe he just likes really, really hot tea? Maybe he’s cold? You brush it off, allowing a peaceful silence to cover the two of you in the darkness of your living room.
There is something undeniably calming about his presence, something that puts you at ease. All the pain, the worry, the hurt within you seems to fade away when you’re with him, the tsunami of your emotions lulling into peaceful waves.
Which is why you find yourself speaking into the quiet. “Nights are hard,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” Choso nods immediately, intuitively, “they are.”
“It’s like…like all the shadows get taller, like there’s something dark lurking around every corner.” He pauses, allowing you to continue. For a moment, you consider retracting, folding into yourself; but before you can implode, the words continue spilling into the air. “Sometimes it feels like every bad thing I’ve ever done comes back to haunt me at night, when it’s quiet, when there’s nothing or no one there to protect me.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Choso reaches his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. His skin is cold where it brushes against you, but you don’t feel the need to pull away. “I’ll protect you,” he whispers.
Turning to him, you sense it: the truth of his statement. He would - he will - do anything to keep you safe. You feel it in your heart, in your bones, in every piece of your body that is alive you know that it’s true.
His eyes focus on you, an earnestness surging inside them. When he leans forward, the magnetic pull of his body tugs you closer, and closer, and closer; then, his lips are on yours.
It’s soft, at first, the way he parts his lips before tenderly sliding his tongue past yours. You sigh into his mouth, releasing a tension you didn’t know you held, as the kiss deepens. It feels right, natural, to be here with him, a piece of your soul melding into his.
His thoughts slowly become frenzied, hazy with desire as he holds you against him. He feels himself starting to slip, to give into the temptation of having you. “W-wait,” he suddenly pulls away, keeping his body an inch from yours. There’s a new nervousness to him, unable to hold your gaze as his body involuntarily tenses.
He can feel the heat radiating off you, begging him to just lean back in, to give himself to you; his hands shake as he takes in an uneven breath.
“I…I can’t,” he wavers. He utters the words as much for you to hear them as he needs to say them, his mind fighting against his body.
But you can’t stop, can’t resist the soft pink of his lips, the tenderness of his hold. Pushing yourself up, careful to avoid putting pressure on your ankle, you lean forward onto your knees. Adjusting his body, he falls back onto the couch, only supported by his forearms, maintaining the distance between you.
“Why not?,” you whisper - god, he can feel your breath fanning across his cheeks - as you softly blink your eyelashes. Sleep lingers in the corners of your body, the need for rest being pushed away as adrenaline takes its place.
Clenching his shaking hands into fists, his teeth bite down on his lower lip. He can’t, he’ll lose control, he can’t.
Yet, when you find yourself positioned on top of him, his back now flush against the couch, he feels himself surrendering, his moral grip loosening.
Sensing his apprehension faltering, a sly grin forms across your face, still so close to his that he can practically feel your lips curling into a smile. “At least let me repay you for fixing me up earlier,” you hum.
Slowly dragging your gaze up from his parted lips to his eyes, a feral desperation behind them, he nods. Despite everything inside him screaming, warning him not to, he gives in.
He doesn’t even have a moment to process his indiscretion before your lips cover the skin of his neck, your hands hurriedly pawing at the black slacks he had been wearing to dinner. A shocked gasp escapes his throat as you shift lower, lifting his white t-shirt to place open-mouthed kisses along his waistband. Your fingers imprecisely brush along his v-line, making the man beneath you shudder. Finally undoing his belt, you tug his pants down, revealing the outline of his hardened cock through his boxers.
Brushing your palm over his length, a soft, “Fuck,” leaves his throat. Heat starts to pool between your legs as you slide down his boxers, his cock twitching, precum beginning to leak from his tip. As moonlight drapes through the window, a shared sense of awe fills the air. Somehow, he’s even more perfect than you imagined.
Your mouth hangs open at the sight of him, having to stop yourself from drooling as your fingertips trace his veins. Lolling your tongue out, you swirl the muscle around his tip, a guttural groan echoing through the empty room as his eyes flutter closed.
A part of you wants to tease him, to draw this moment out forever, but even you begin to lose your grip on your restraint as you watch his teeth bite into the skin of his lip, gentle groans vibrating his throat.
The world seems to fade away, the night curtaining you save for the spotlight landing directly on Choso. With ease he captures your attention, your eyes following his every twitch and gasp, each individual eyelash as they flutter over his midnight-toned irises, the contours of his tattoo moving into the grooves of his skin with the slight crinkle of his nose, the plush pink of his lips filling in the space between his pointed canines as he struggles to keep in the soft whines threatening to fill the silence. Every move is so unintentionally perfect, a captivating performance of his adoration.
Unable to hold back any longer, you slide his length into your mouth, evoking another deep, rumbling moan. Your head slides down him, hitting your gag reflex as a strained choke is forced from you. Pulling back momentarily, you gather your resolve before opening your throat, shoving him further and further into you.
He thinks he’s never felt something so good, so purely addicting, as this. The warmth of your mouth around him, the subtle movements of your tongue, have him grasping at shreds of his restraint. His nails dig into the flesh of his palms, grounding himself in anything, even pain, as long as he can hold himself back.
Nearly reaching the bottom of him, you feel yourself hitting your limit as his hips stutter up, his body reacting on its own despite his best efforts to hold back. His tip knocks at the very back of your throat before he pulls back.
“S-shit, sorry,” he moans above you.
Adjusting back onto your knees, you continue pumping his length, licking a languid stripe up the underside of his cock as your gaze locks onto his face. His eyes are tightly closed, fists grasping at the blankets covering the couch, jaw clenched as his chest heaves.
“Choso,” you giggle, his eyes opening before they finally find yours. Seeing you between his legs, tongue slowly circling his needy tip, he twitches in your palm. “You can touch me, y’know,” you breathe, gaze traveling to his hands.
Following your focus, he slowly unclenches his fists, nail marks dug into his palms. Sucking in an uneven breath, he shakes his head. “Can’t,” is all he can get out, too overcome with the feeling of your fingertips traveling along him, each point of contact with your skin leaving trails of electricity in its wake.
“Choso,” you purr, pushing him closer and closer to a breaking point you aren’t even aware of, threatening to drag both of you off an unseen precipice.
Shaking his head, his eyes close again. “I’ll hurt you,” he mutters quietly, returning his grip on the blanket, the soft material crumpling in his grasp.
“No, you won’t,” you follow on instinct. “I know you won’t.” The profound sense of trust you feel towards him reassures you; deep in your soul, in some ancient part of your body, you know he wouldn’t hurt you. He swore to protect you, after all.
Your touch sears his skin, igniting flames under him; each grace of your fingertips draws him closer into the heat of his own unique hell, one tortured with pleas of passion.
His eyelids flutter as he looks back down at you, a fervent desperation within them barely held back by the bars of his determination. His thoughts are clouded, a tormented conflict of more and stop echoing through his mind.
When you look up at him so sweetly, a smile forming across your lips, he feels himself cracking.
“Please?” you whisper.
Who knew that 150 years of willpower, of isolation, could crumble with one word?
The first thing you feel is his weight on you, his chest pressing against you as your head hits the couch. Suddenly on top of you, his eyes bore into your very soul, a new darkness within them. His lips attach to yours, roughly sliding his tongue into your mouth as he explores the space, claiming it as his own.
Cool hands trace your body, grabbing, pulling, holding every part of you he can find. Tugging your shirt up with one hand he palms your breast as the other snakes between your legs.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, feeling your soaked panties under his fingertips.
Heat flushes your cheeks but you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed with the way he slides the cloth to the side as he inserts a finger into your warmth.
Your mouth opens into a moan, Choso taking the invitation to bite down gently onto your lower lip. He uses the pause of your momentary shock to bully another finger into you, your back arching at the slight stretch.
Unsure what force has gained control of his body he tosses his normal precision to the wind as he allows his instincts to take over. He hasn’t touched anyone like this since before he was turned, a time that now feels eons away, but something in him esoterically understands what to do, what you need.
Curling his fingertips, he easily finds the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Shooting a hand down you grab onto his wrist, holding him in place. “Right there, Cho,” you whimper, eyes closing in pleasure as he continues hitting the same gummy spot over, and over, and over.
Lust blooms in his chest as he watches you writhe under him, your cheeks flushing a soft pink, how intuitively he knows your body, like you were truly made for each other.
“Mmm, m’close,” you whine, tension building in your stomach as his fingers rut into you.
All Choso can do is watch, a deep groan rumbling in his throat as you come undone.
Opening your eyes, your vision is fuzzy as it focuses on the man above you. His black eyes stare down at you, his lips slightly parted as he pants; he looks hungry.
“More,” he growls.
The cold of your apartment shocks your body as your panties are ripped from your legs. Before you can react his lips are back on yours, kissing you greedily.
His cock presses against you, tip barely entering before the searing stretch reaches your senses. The warmth of your body against him scorches his mind, blinding him in pleasure.
“C-Choso,” you whimper into his mouth, “s’too much.”
Continuing to slowly push into you, the stinging pain turns to pleasure. “Y’can take it,” he groans, “know y’can.”
His words have your mind cloudy, body relaxing under him as he bottoms out. “Please,” you beg mindlessly, unsure if you’re asking him to speed up or slow down, just desperate for more.
With that, his hips pull back before thrusting harshly into you, a low grunt leaving his throat. Your mouth opens as you mewl at the sensation, Choso lapping up every noise that escapes your lips.
“Forgot, fuck, how good this feels,” he whispers to himself.
Rolling his hips he continues bullying his cock into you, angling to hit the same spot that had you losing your mind just moments prior.
Despite the sin of the act, Choso has found salvation in your body. Your very soul created a new kingdom, one he proudly obeys, his rough thrusts proof of his servitude. In you he sees deliverance, the gates of heaven opening to his own personal paradise.
“Need this, need you,” he pants, “forever.” The last word a desperate plea, a claim. Once he’s gotten you, he can’t lose you: not now, not ever.
His hips continue rutting into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing through your empty apartment far away as it hits your ears. In the haze of your ecstasy, you can barely make out his words, a hurried whisper against your lips.
“Mine,” he mutters, “mine, mine, mine.” Each word is punctuated with another thrust, reaching impossibly deeper into you each time.
So lost in pleasure, you only loosely register the tightening in your chest, his motions bringing you closer and closer to your release. As it continues building, all you can get out is a weak cry of his name.
Clenching around him, he picks up his pace, wanting to feel you, needing to feel you. His fingertips dig into your hips, bruisingly firm. He will never let you go.
Blinding white suddenly clouds your vision as you lose yourself in bliss, hands grabbing anywhere you can find, digging into Choso’s biceps as he fucks you through it.
Above you, his body shakes as he releases into you, broken moans of your name falling from his lips. As warmth fills your body, he finds new heights of his dedication, an attestation of his love for you. He is yours, now and forever.
His body collapses, yet he’s careful to avoid your injuries, not putting pressure on your ankles or wrists. Both of you pant, desperate for air as you melt into each other. Your hands find their way to his back, drawing small patterns into his spine, his body still somehow cold despite the heat between you.
Pulling away, his face hovers inches above your own. “I - shit - are you okay?” he breathes.
Your fingers trace their way to his face, holding his jaw as you brush his loose bangs from his eyes. “Yes, Cho,” you grin lazily, “are you?”
While you meant to tease him, he really does look dazed, hair frayed, gaze unable to focus through his blown-out pupils, somehow darkening his already deep irises. His cheeks are pink, lips remaining parted as his arms noticeably shake under his weight. “Mhm,” is all he can get out through a tired nod.
But he wasn’t really okay - after an eternity alone, he was here, with you. He suddenly feels bare as he lays on top of you, the moonlight shining through the cracks of his soul. His mind races in panic. Shit, was this a mistake? Do you regret it? Even worse, did he hurt you?
The gentle touch of your hands on his face returns him to reality as you press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep, yeah?” you whisper.
“Okay,” he weakly smiles.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
There is something so innocently sweet about Choso you hadn’t noticed before, but now, as he rests in your arms, in your bed, it’s undeniable. Despite the dark circles that line his eyes, evidence of a visceral exhaustion, he feels so light.
His gaze flits across your face, lazy grins plastered on both of your features as you stare at one another in the comfortable silence of your room. Cool fingers circle your lower back, your arms draped across his torso. It feels so comfortable, so right, to be held in each other’s arms like this.
As your eyes grow heavy in tiredness, his never leave you, watching your every move, every breath, until your motions slow, easing into the tranquil respite of sleep.
If he could find himself in bed with you every night, maybe, just maybe, he, too, could finally rest.
Yet, in the peace of the moment, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander, dragging him into the dread he’s grown to call home. How many more nights do you have together? How many more does he deserve?
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
As the beeping of monitors surrounds Choso, all he can find himself thinking about once again is you. After your night together, his obsession only continued to grow over the following weeks until you filled his thoughts, his very being. In another light he might almost find it ironic - the one destined to consume now consumed by another. Yet, he finds peace in it, allowing the edges of his soul to blend with yours.
Fortunately, work had been slow, the magnitude of emergencies slowing as summer began drawing to a close. He was afforded more time per patient, covering his distraction as dedication as his eyes lazily scan through the charts of those brought in overnight.
A familiar name jolts him from his lust-filled haze as he reads the new admissions to the emergency department. Quickly glancing through her chart, dread shoots down his spine. Rising from his chair he marches to the patient’s room.
“Mrs. Sato,” he announces, cracking open the door following his soft yet determined knock.
“Dr. Kamo,” her voice calls, “it’s good to see you again.”
Stepping in, his eyes land on the older woman laying in bed, the thin hospital-issued sheets covering her body. “You too,” his deep voice cuts through the silence of the room as he walks towards her, “although I wish it was under better circumstances.”
A sly smile crosses her lips. “Now, don’t tell me you’ve already grown tired of seeing me.”
Sliding over a stool, he sits next to her. “You know I’d never get tired of you,” he smirks. From up close, he can see just how thin she has gotten under the sterile gown, how frail she has become over the past few months. “So, Mrs. Sato, tell me what brought you in tonight.”
“Well,” she begins, a breathy chuckle leaving her throat, “where do I even begin? You know, this damn cancer has everything going bad, it seems. First I was just too tired, and now, I have this headache I can’t shake, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.”
A pang of fear shoots up Choso’s spine. “Mrs. Sato, I have to tell you, I checked your labs before coming in, and things don’t look good. But, the good news is there are still things we can do, treatments we can try-”
“Dr. Kamo,” she interjects, “I know what this is.”
“If you’ll just listen-”
“I know it’s my time.”
His body freezes as his gaze meets hers. A soft smile graces her lips, a tired determination behind her eyes.
“I’ll be okay,” she whispers. Reaching a wrinkled hand out, she takes his cool one in hers, holding him. “I’m ready.”
He adjusts to rest his free hand on her wrist, silence falling between them. Mrs. Sato is suddenly overtaken in coughs, her whole body shaking as air is forced from her lungs. Holding her arm out, she keeps Choso at a distance, a small reassurance.
“I’m okay,” she manages to choke out. Allowing the fit to subside, Choso’s watchful eyes never leaving her, she weakly chuckles. “Now, now, don’t look at me like that, Dr. Kamo,” she laughs.
“Like what, Mrs. Sato?”
“Like you’re about to say something to try and make me change my mind.”
Taking in a steadying breath, Choso sighs. Of course he’s already thinking, plans formulating - there are other medications, new clinical trials, more aggressive options - but he silences them. Despite it going against everything he believes in, against the vows he took to care for others, he honors her wishes. “I won’t try to convince you of anything.”
“Thank you,” she smiles.
“But isn’t there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” he pleads.
Another airy chuckle leaves her throat. “You really are something else.”
“How so?” He cocks his head to the side with a curious smirk.
Pausing, she locks eyes with him again, a shared fatigue lingering in the air. “How long have we known each other, Dr. Kamo?”
Recalling the past year, the frequent hospital admissions, the late-night conversations they shared, Choso answers confidently. “Eleven months.”
“And in those eleven months, you’ve learned a lot about me - you know I’m strong, and stubborn, and that I’m done fighting this thing.”
Choso sighs.
“But,” she continues, “I’ve also learned about you.” The room suddenly feels tense as she shifts her body to fully face him. “I know what you are, Dr. Kamo.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at-”
“Oh honey, I’m far too old for you to bullshit me,” she chuckles. “You think I didn’t notice that you never ate when I asked you to share a meal with me, how even when I asked you to hold onto my hot-packs your hands never warmed up, or how you’d come and go from the blood bank every few weeks with a new pep in your step? I’ve heard the fables, the rumors, but I always knew there was truth to the stories whispered in the dark.”
Shit. His mind settles into dread - how did she notice? What can he say? How can he convince her that he’s not exactly what she knows he is?
“Dr. Kamo,” she breaks his panic, returning her hand to his. “Over the past eleven months, you have helped me more than you could possibly know. Now, I’d like to do something to help you in return.”
“Mrs. Sato-”
“Please,” she lightly squeezes his hand, “let me do this for you. I want my life force to live on in someone who I know will honor it, honor me.”
A shaky sigh fills the silence as he processes the information. Without ever having to say it, he understands her request, the implicit desire to offer her life - her blood - to him. He couldn’t do this, right? Yet, how could he bring himself to turn down a dying woman’s last wish? Who is he to refuse her final plea?
Dropping his shoulders, he acquiesces. “Okay,” he sighs.
A soft smile crosses her features. “Thank you,” she whispers. Locking eyes, a mutual understanding flows between the two. “I have to know though,” she follows, “does it hurt?”
“No,” Choso reassures immediately, “quite the opposite.”
At that, her body seems to relax, sinking into the thin mattress below her. Holding out her wrist, she nods. “I’m ready.”
“Mrs. Sato, I just - a-are you sure?”
“Dr. Kamo,” she states, a new determination flowing through her, “I’m ready.”
Choso nods, his eyes falling to her outstretched hand. Meeting her gaze one final time, she offers him a smile.
His thumb finds her pulse, sensing the blood flowing through her veins. Leaning his head down, his mouth hovers inches above her, nervousness coursing through his body. How long had it been since he bit someone? How many years had passed with him perfectly satiated with his life consisting of cold plastic blood bags? He hadn’t even considered the possibility for over a century before the night you met, yet now he finds himself unable to chase away the thought of feeding from you. If he had never known you, would things be different now? Would he be here, about to take the life of an innocent person?
His concerns are quelled by the woman above him as she softly speaks. “It’s okay, Dr. Kamo.” She pauses, loosening his apprehension. “I want this.”
Something in her words steadies him, easing the emotional turmoil raging inside him. For the first time tonight he finally allows himself to fully exhale, breathing out any remaining hesitancy as he remembers his duty to do good, to do right by others. Bringing her wrist to his mouth, his canines easily pierce her flesh. Warm blood quickly fills his mouth, a novel sensation against the familiar metallic taste.
The sheer weight of the moment, the loss of a patient, one he had grown to call a friend, hangs in Choso’s mind. Tears slowly spill down his cheeks as the sanguine proof of her life becomes a part of his.
“Thank you,” she whispers, the steady beep of monitors filling the room as her soul leaves it.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
After your night with Choso, it felt impossible to think of anything, or anyone, else. The one exception, of course, is Megumi, a constant brightness that seems to easily cast out the shadows. As his injuries continue to heal so does your life, no longer plagued with darkness around the corners of your home. As your father disappears for longer and longer stretches of time, the brief flashes of his presence brighter than usual, you allow your fear to meld into the setting summer sun.
Megumi’s enthusiasm never falters, manifesting as a constant badgering to be surrounded by others, his new friendships strengthening as your heart similarly blooms with love.
Between Choso’s overnight schedule and your own duty to care for your brother it’s been difficult to see each other, but short texts and conversations throughout the day extend your bond. In the few weeks you’ve been apart he never fails to convey his love through small gestures, namely sending you pictures of the moon every night on his walk into work. Recalling your love for it, the simple beauty of the galaxies hanging above you a reminder of your place in the universe, he begins to find you in it, too. Each image comes with a sweet message, some iteration of “thinking of you,” a manifestation of his remembrance.
In the absence of his company, time nevertheless continues marching forward. The chill of early fall fills the streets as you begin planning for Megumi’s school year to begin, collecting notebooks and pencils in his favorite colors. It nearly feels normal to be doing this again, a welcome return to an ordinary life.
When Megumi wakes you the final weekend before school starts with a cry of “Pleeeeease can we go to the park?” you can’t find it in your heart to turn down his request despite the preparations you know you should be making.
Walking hand-in-hand through the streets, the first leaves falling overhead, you and your brother make your way back to the park. He immediately finds his new best friend, a sweet pink-haired boy you’d seen him play with every time you had ventured out together over the past few months. As he runs off, you settle into a bench in the sun, enjoying the fading warmth of summer.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a familiar deep voice calls from behind you.
Turning your head you’re suddenly met with Choso’s wide frame behind you, the spice of his cologne filling the air as he walks towards you. Despite the initial shock, his presence is a welcome one, your cheeks already beginning to blush in excitement as he settles in next to you.
“I could say the same,” you tease, “you don’t strike me as much of a ‘let’s go to the park’ kind of guy.”
A smirk plays across his lips as he looks ahead, the sound of children’s giggles in the background. “I take my brother when I can,” he explains. “But, I do spin a mean tire swing.”
A laugh erupts from your throat as he turns to face you, his smile widening. Behind his familiar dark irises - wait.
Something has to be wrong.
As your gaze travels across his face, his eyes aren’t their standard black - they’re red.
Before you can fathom the discrepancy, his deep voice echoes through the park.
“Hey, Yuji, don’t be so rough with him!” he shouts.
Turning to find the subject of his focus, you see Megumi roughhousing with the boy you recognize as his self-proclaimed new best friend. Tufts of pink hair poke between Megumi’s dark locks as the two wrestle on the ground.
A round of giggles erupts from both boys as they separate their limbs, covered in a mixture of sand and dirt. “Not my fault I’m stronger!” Yuji yells before Megumi suddenly tackles him, his back hitting the ground as they return to their tussle.
Waves of shock and recognition wash over you as you turn your attention back to the man beside you.
“Wait, that’s Yuji?” you ask incredulously, unable to bury your surprise. The boy’s pink hair and golden eyes couldn’t be more distinct, in a similar way to Choso’s striking appearance, yet they found themselves in a dichotomy, with no overlap between their bold features.
“Yup,” Choso affirms with a hum, eyes not leaving the two boys as shrill screams of excitement continue filling the air.
“B-but, but…how? He-”
A smirk reappears on Choso’s face as he glances at you out of the corner of his eyes. “He doesn’t look anything like me?”
Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you realize your assumption. “Y-yeah,” you stammer.
“He’s more like my half-brother,” he chuckles, “but he’s a spitting image of my older brother.”
“Oh, that makes sense…” you trail off. Truthfully, you had forgotten he had another sibling - had you unknowingly seen him over the past few weeks you’d been taking Megumi to the park? Clearly he and Yuji had grown close, there’s no way a six-year-old would be walking here by himself, right?
As if on cue, the duo marches up to you, hand in hand. Sheepish grins form across their faces, skin flushed from the intensity of their play.
“Could we get ice cream?” they both blurt in unison before giggles erupt between them at their synchrony.
Glancing at Choso, you share a knowing glance at their ploy. “Megumi, buddy, you know we can’t,” you begin.
“Pleaaaaaase?” he begs as both boys fall to their knees, hands clasped as they pout. “It’s our last day before school starts!”
“And!” Yuji’s high-pitched voice fills in where Megumi’s left off, “what if they run out of ice cream and this is our last chance to ever eat it?”
A low chuckle leaves Choso’s throat as he reaches a hand out to ruffle the boy’s strawberry hair. His piercing red eyes meet yours for a moment before he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you make a compelling argument,” he laughs softly. Extending his hand, he stands, awaiting yours. “What do you say, should we take advantage of our ‘last chance to ever eat ice cream’?”
Rolling your eyes, you place your hand in his as you rise. “I guess I can’t say no to that,” you giggle.
༝ ˚ 。⋆ ༝ ˚ 。⋆
Back at the park, the boys run through the open field as they carefully eat their comically-large ice cream cones. A sticky mess covers Megumi’s hands as it melts, chasing Yuji with his palms out as they both scream.
You and Choso lay in the shade of the trees, your head resting on his chest as his fingers absentmindedly play with your hair. Twirling a strand around his finger, you move to fan yourself with your hand; despite the summer drawing to a close, the heat never fails to exhaust you.
“Warm?” he asks, observing your attempt to cool off.
Nodding, you continue your motion despite the futility of it, knowing the only way to truly feel better would be a cold plunge in the nearby lake, a prospect becoming more and more tempting as sweat continues to seep through the cloth of your tank top.
“Here,” he adjusts slightly, resting his palm on your forehead.
Almost immediately the heat under your skin dissipates, replaced with the coolness of his. His other hand trails behind your neck, his fingertips tracing gentle circles along your nape. A relieved sigh involuntarily escapes your lips as you lean into his touch, a welcome respite from the humidity surrounding you.
As you shift further into him, your gaze travels across his face again. When his eyes meet yours, a chill shoots down your spine.
Red.
His eyes are still red.
“Too cold?” he prompts as you shiver nervously. “Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling his hands away.
Grabbing his wrists, you hold him in place. “No, it’s not that,” you murmur, averting your focus to the ground. “It’s just…your eyes are a different color.”
He tenses. Shit. He hadn’t expected to see you today, he shouldn’t have done what he did at work the previous night, he knew it was too big of a risk. It had been stupid, selfish, to consume blood from another person, but his empathy got the better of him.
“It must just be the light,” he blurts out, nervously chuckling, before turning away from you.
Opening your mouth to respond, your conversation is cut short as Megumi suddenly tumbles into you. Remnants of ice cream cover your clothes as the two boys plow into where you lay on the ground, shared screams of shock from all four of you breaking the tranquil silence.
“Man, what’re you guys doing?” Choso disappointedly laughs.
He easily picks up Yuji despite his attempts to wriggle from his grasp, high-pitched repeats of “Put me down, put me down!” leaving his mouth through giggles.
“It’s my fault!” Megumi proclaims as he struggles to stand, wiping his hands on his shirt.
“No, no, it’s my fault!” Yuji follows as Choso places him in the grass beside him.
“I don’t care whose fault it is, but you both better apologize,” he states, glancing at the chocolate-colored stains covering your shirt.
“We’re sorry!” both boys exclaim together, running to hug you as sticky fingers hit your skin.
“It’s okay,” you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, “but Megumi and I better get home and get these clothes in the wash.”
Collecting your brother’s hand, you stand to leave despite the disappointed groans from the pair. Finishing dusting the dirt from your shorts, Choso’s fingers gently graze your wrist in an effort to garner your attention.
“When can I see you again?” he softly murmurs, ignoring Yuji’s pokes along his chest as the boy continues laughing, vying for his attention.
In spite of the chill his eyes send through your body, you feel your heart warm at his words. “Next weekend?” you tentatively offer.
“I have work, but I’ll make time,” he grins softly. “I just…miss you,” he admits.
Your cheeks blush, face further reddening under the summer heat, as you nod. “Next weekend it is. See you then, Cho.”
“Can’t wait,” he smiles with a squeeze of your hand.
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doumadono · 1 year
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Carrying his child - Dabi x Reader
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Warnings: reader is pregnant, Dabi is rather rude at first, angst Synopsis: you set up a meeting with Dabi to reveal that you're carrying his child Requested by: anonymous
MASTERLIST
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You stood nervously at the top of the hill, waiting for Dabi to arrive. The wind rustled through the tall grass, and the distant sounds of the city faded away, leaving behind a quiet serenity. This was the place you had chosen to break the news to him — a place where you could speak without interruptions or prying eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, you spotted a figure approaching in the distance. It was Dabi. As he drew nearer, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. Dabi was known for his rough demeanor and cold attitude, and you knew that telling him you were pregnant would not be well received.
"About time you showed up," he grumbled, his voice laced with annoyance. "What's so important that you had to drag me out here, doll?"
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I need to talk to you, Dabi. It's something important."
He crossed his arms, a scowl forming on his face. "Well, spit it out then. I don't have all day, babe."
You hesitated, gathering your thoughts before finding the courage to speak. "I'm pregnant," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dabi's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing into a glare. "And what the hell does that have to do with me?" he snapped.
His harsh words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes. "Dabi, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "I thought you deserved to know. This... this is your child too."
He stared at you, his anger momentarily giving way to confusion. Slowly, the weight of your words seemed to sink in, and his expression hardened. "Mine?" he repeated, his voice cold and distant.
You nodded, wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. "Yes, Dabi. We're going to have a baby."
Dabi's scowl deepened, and he took a step back, distancing himself from you. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted some brat tying me down?" he growled.
Your heart shattered at his callous words, and you fought back sobs that threatened to escape your throat. "I didn't plan for this either, Dabi," you managed to say through trembling lips. "But it's happening, and I thought you deserved to know."
He sneered at you, his anger seeping through every word. "Deserved to know? You think I care about your damn feelings? You think I care about some bastard child? We had some nice sex, yes, but that's it. I've never signed up for starting a goddamn family."
Unable to bear his cruelty any longer, the floodgates burst open, and tears streamed down your face. "How can you say that?" you sobbed, your chin trembling. "This is our child, Dabi. It's a part of you too. You won't change it. It already happened! How can you be so cruel... I've given upon everything for you!"
Dabi's eyes widened as he watched your tears flow, and for a brief moment, a flicker of regret flashed in his gaze. His hardened facade crumbled, revealing a mixture of anger, confusion, and a hint of remorse. Dabi stared at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly. The weight of his harsh words hung heavily in the air, and he could feel the pain radiating from you. The memories of your intimate, passionate nights together flashed through his mind, reminding him of the connection you shared. He couldn't deny the truth. Deep down, he knew it was his child. A mix of emotions battled within him — fear, regret, and a twinge of guilt. He had always been guarded, keeping others at arm's length. Love was a foreign concept to him, and the thought of being responsible for another life terrified him. But as he glanced up at you, your tear-streaked face and trembling figure, something shifted inside him. You had always been there, standing by his side, unwavering in your loyalty and love. He knew that you were faithful, not out of fear, but because you genuinely cared for him. Dabi took a step closer, his voice softer this time, tinged with remorse. "I... I reacted poorly. I know I did," he admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "It's just... I'm not used to this. I'm not used to someone caring for me like you do. It's just... Fuck. It's too much to comprehend at once."
Your sobs began to subside, replaced by a glimmer of hope in your eyes. "Dabi," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and forgiveness. "I understand. It's a lot to take in."
He reached out tentatively, his fingers grazing against your cheek, wiping away the remnants of tears. "You deserve better than what I gave you just now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... our child... they deserve better, too."
You sniffled, trying to compose yourself. "Dabi, I understand that you're scared and unsure," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "But this is happening, and our child deserves better than this. They deserve to know their father."
Dabi looked away, his jaw clenched, struggling to find the right words. The weight of his initial reaction seemed to sink deeper within him, battling against the emerging realization of the life growing inside you.
"I never thought... I never thought I could be a father," he finally admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I've done terrible things, you know that, and I don't know if I can be what this child needs. I'm a fucking monster, certainly not a role model.."
You took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch his scared forearm. "Dabi, nobody is perfect," you said softly. "But that doesn't mean you can't change or be there for our child. It's not too late to start over, to become the father you never had."
His eyes met yours, a mix of pain and uncertainty reflecting in their depths. "You really think I can do it? Be a father?"
"I believe in you," you whispered, your voice filled with conviction. "I've seen glimpses of the man behind the mask, the person who cares beneath the rough exterior. And I know deep down, there's a part of you that wants to protect and love our child."
Dabi's defenses began to crumble further as he took in your words. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "I... I don't know if I deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But if there's a chance... a chance to make things right, to give our child a better life, then maybe... maybe I can try."
A glimmer of relief and gratitude washed over you, and tears of a different kind welled up in your eyes. "Thank you, Dabi," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Thank you for giving us a chance."
Dabi's grip tightened on your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of newfound tenderness. "I won't promise it'll be easy," he said, his voice steady. "But I'll try my damn hardest to be there for you and our child."
A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, and you rested your hand on top of his. "That's all I can ask for, Touya," you replied within a whisper. "We'll face this together, and we'll create a better future for our family."
Dabi's eyes widened as he heard you call him by his true name. It sounded like music to his ears, hearing you whisper "Touya" with such love and tenderness.
Tears of relief streamed down your face as you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against his lips. It was a silent promise, a symbol of the new path you were embarking on together.
As you stood there on the hillside, a sense of hope began to replace the initial fear and uncertainty. The road ahead would undoubtedly be challenging, but with each passing moment, you both felt a growing connection, a shared commitment to love and protect the life you had created together. And as the wind whispered through the grass and the city lights twinkled in the distance, you knew that despite the rough exterior, Dabi's heart held the potential to embrace the love and responsibility that awaited him.
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caelivir · 3 months
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songs of our hearts | mash burnedead
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synopsis. in which you suddenly disappear without rhyme or reason, and mash spends the rest of his life waiting for you.
pairing. mash x musician!fem!reader | wc. 2.6k | genres. some fluff, angst no happy ending! | warnings. reader’s death is offscreened
notes. special order for @kyoghurts — this is long overdue and i almost never write for mash so sorry if he’s off but your idea was too good to pass on. just tweaked a little. (you can thank them for this one.)
mash and reader are the same age.
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"and you and the rest of your clan will carry down this curse through the bloodlines of your descendants for it shall serve as a reminder of your sins against me. your firstborns will die the day after their 18th cycle of the earth, and there is no god above that will stop it from happening. it is a destiny you can never and will never escape for all of eternity.”
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it is a majestic sound. a heavenly one. the chords carry through the enchanted forest, relaxing the trees and making flowers breathe sighs of relief.
the voice that accompanies the instrumentals is faint—soft and alluring. lyrics share the story of a mighty warrior and his beloved back home. curious, mash burnedead follows the source of the singing until it leads him to a fairly large pond, surrounded by green trees and blooming flora. the sunlight casts its glow over the body of water, allowing sparkles to dance across its surface.
mash finds you sitting atop a rock at the edge of the pond, so focused on your music that everything else in the world fades out. you strum at your lyre in memorized motions, as if the song was already part of your soul.
a leaf crinkles beneath his foot, and your eyes fly open, fingers freezing before they could strike another string. the surprise in your eyes does not deter mash. if anything, he doesn’t notice it.
“that’s a nice song you were playing.” he says, still standing in the same spot. you clutch your instrument closer to you.
“i’m mash burnedead. nice to meet you.” he continues, beginning to make his way around the pond.
“(y/n)…” you trail off, skeptical of the stranger stalking closer.
“are you hungry? i have creampuffs my pops baked.” mash tells you as he plops down next to the rock you’re sitting on.
you tilt your head. “creampuff?”
the mushroom head blinks in rapid succession. “have you never had a creampuff?”
you timidly shake your head, and mash takes that as the greenlight to hand you one of his. you accept it with some hesitancy but put enough trust in the stranger to take a small bite. mash senses it in the way your eyes widen and the way you rush in to take a second bite that you deeply enjoy the sweet treat.
"they're the best food in the world." the mushroom headed boy tells you. "did you know-" and then he's rambling on and on about this obsession with creampuffs. you don't interrupt him, allowing him to talk his head off because it's rather endearing. mash, of course, doesn't realize it. he doesn't see the interest you have for him growing in your eyes.
excited at the thought of having a new friend, mash returns after a few days with another basket of creampuffs. you smile when you see him and urge him to hurry up and sit by you.
on the surface, mash appears to be a quiet boy, but once you get him started, he doesn't seem to stop. he doesn't hesitate to update you on his life or narrate tales involving his friends or family. you'll only interject if you have something to say, but overall, you allow the mushroom head his moments. as he converses with you, you'll play a soft song on your lyre, just mindlessly plucking at chords you know will mesh well together.
mash never fails to compliment your skills, saying your songs are the best he's ever heard. the praise makes you stutter out a humble denial of how there are plenty of musicians better than you. that does not change mash's mind. he insists that you are the greatest.
one day, you offer to teach your new friend how to play. it goes as one would expect.
"ah. i messed up again." mash says listlessly after playing the wrong note of a basic song you were teaching him.
you giggle at his slipup. with a gentle smile on your face, you put your hand on his, guiding his fingers onto the right notes. your touch was soft, warm, and kind. it makes it difficult for mash to focus on the music, and really, he's only looking at you.
you let him try to play on his own again. mash still has not a single clue about what he's doing, but he's able to play a measure in perfect succession before messing up entirely.
you bite down another giggle, but your angelic laugh escapes your throat. your smile reaches your eyes. mash thinks you look really pretty like that.
"it's alright, mash. music is not everyone's talent." you assure him, taking your lyre from his grasp and setting it on your lap. "you make delicious creampuffs, and i think that is more than enough."
the tips of his ears burn red at the compliment. he's unsure why.
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as the days drag on and the visits increase, mash has started to noticed that you're acting differently. you're not fully present in conversations, eyes staring so far ahead he thinks you're seeing a new world. as you practice new pieces, you'll play the wrong notes, and you'll mumble your lyrics. at times, you're not even playing songs. your fingers will mindlessly pluck at random strings, producing something that mash can't even call music.
he tries checking up on you, but you'll brush it off with a plastered smile before acting as you normally would. it's strange indeed, but if you say it's fine, then it should be, right?
the day of your 18th birthday rolls around, and mash has it all laid out on how he wants to spend it with you. he'll bring a delicious lunch that his pops cooked and a special kind of creampuff that's just for you. he'll bring a pack of cards so the two of you can play a few games that his good friend finn ames taught him how to play. to wrap everything up, he'll hand you his gift. it'll be a wonderfully fun day.
and it is exactly that. you show up to the pond in a pretty dress and a beautifully woven flower crown adorning your head. and with the way the sunlight hits your skin, mash thinks that you are ethereal.
your time together goes just as he planned. you don't waste a single crumb of the meal regro burnedead provided. mash brings out your special creampuff, even going as far as to bringing a candle to place on top of it. although, he kept breaking the matchsticks needed to light it, so you ended up having to light it yourself. he sang to you, rather poorly, but it's the thought that counts.
you play countless card games, ranging from speed, war, and slapjack, and when you get bored of that, you talk. it can never be a hangout with mash if there isn't an honest conversation.
"mash, have you ever kissed someone before?" you ask, a neutral expression on your face.
the mushroom headed boy is flustered by the question. he blinks. "i... i've never done that before."
you turn your head towards him. the embarrassment of your question now hits you. "would you ever want to kiss me?"
mash has never thought about it before. not once has it ever crossed his mind, but as he looks at you now with the beginnings of a sunset behind you, mash burnedead realizes that you are a force of nature. you are unforgettable in every way, shape, and form. your music resonates with the soul. your smile could blind the angels; your laugh could heal the earth. you are beautiful no matter what you do.
your presence is safety within itself, and mash really, really likes being with you. and so mash's eyes flicker down to your slightly parted lips. his head nods slightly.
yes. i would want to kiss you.
and you do. you lean in ever so slowly, faces so close together that your breaths fan against the other's skin. your eyes shut at the same time. you gently press your lips together, and time seems to stop. he can taste the faint flavor of the strawberry and vanilla creampuff filling on your lips. it's innocent and inexperienced but still sweet. it's enough to light fireworks in his stomach, and boy do they explode.
when you finally pull away, your eyes flutter open. your mouth opens so you could speak, yet no words tumble out. mash waits and anticipates what you could possibly say next. however, there is nothing in the world that could've prepared him for what comes out.
a wave of regret floods your face. a single tear carves its path down your cheek. you whisper, "don't come back here."
mash tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "what?"
you flinch. that is not what you were meant to say. "i'm sorry." you quickly apologize, not even trying to find an excuse or correct yourself. you scramble up and frantically search your lyre, only to realize that you don't have it on you. you didn't bring it today.
mash burnedead watches as you nearly fall trying to escape. you rip the flower crown off of your head, throwing it onto a random spot on the ground. you face mash. there is a waterfall of tears cascading down your skin. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i don't know why i did that. i really like you mash, i do, but i... i can't do this. there's no time. i'm... i'm sorry. you-you don't deserve this. i don't deserve you, mash. i'm sorry. please don't come back here. please."
he doesn't understand what you're saying one bit, and he isn't fast enough to stop you and demand an answer. by the time he reaches his arm out to plead with you to come back, you're already gone.
mash's arm falls to his side. he looks into the basket that he brought with him today.
he didn't get the chance to give you your gift.
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mash still carries on your shared tradition despite your plea not to. he has to give you your birthday gift, and if he can get an explanation from you that would be nice too.
he takes that oh so familiar trail down to the pond, expecting to hear the songs of your lyre, but the enchanted forest is still, save for the few deer rummaging around. mash reaches the pond, and for the first time in months, you are not there.
that's fine. he can wait for you. he kills time by doing random workouts. he eats his creampuffs in silence. any crunch of a leaf will have mash twisting his head to the source of the sound, thinking that you've returned. each time it is nothing—only the common forest animal wandering about.
the sun begins to set. you still haven't come. mash thinks he'll come visit again next week.
next week comes. with it, it brings a new batch of freshly baked creampuffs that the mushroom headed boy is forced to eat alone because you haven't shown your face.
despite your lack of showing up, mash burnedead does not give up.
weeks become months. months stretch into years. even as he grows older, mash finds his way back to the pond, in hopes that you'll be there waiting for him.
he still eats those creampuffs. he sets your birthday gift onto the rock where you used to sit while he bides his time. he still works out, but lately mash has gotten into the habit of talking to himself. he'll tell all the stories that you have yet to hear because just maybe the wind will carry his words and have them reach your ears. he'll hum all the songs you played for him.
then the sun will grow tired and take its rest, and mash will pick up your birthday gift and go back home.
years stretch into decades—decades in which you haven't come to see him once. yet he still finds the energy within himself to come find your shared spot with him.
the pond has yet to change. it is still surrounded by thriving green trees. squirrels and other rodents continue to find their daily drink in its water, and the water continues to catch the sun rays up in the sky.
mash has changed. his body grows old. his skin wrinkles and sags. his body grows weak. his joints hurt everywhere. his brain is consumed with thoughts of you. he wonders what changes you went through. he wonders where you are and what you're doing. what kind of people are hearing your songs? he bets you are still as beautiful as the last time he saw you.
by the time he knows it, the sky is painted with its daily palette of orange, blue, and pink—a signal to head home. mash promises that he'll visit again.
however, mash's next visit will be his last. he realizes that his body can't keep up with it anymore. he is at his limit. still, he braves the trip one final time, bringing a few creampuffs and gifts with him that he'll finally leave behind.
the walk to the forest takes longer than mash would've liked, but he makes it nonetheless. he saunters over to your rock, sitting on the cold, smooth surface that was once yours. mash would've preferred sitting next to it, just as he did in his youth, but his knees can no longer handle bending that low.
mash sighs, craning his head up to the sky. a pair of birds fly over above him. "(y/n), i still think of you, y'know? i don't know where you are, but i'm sure you did amazing things. i wish i was there to see you do it.
"this will be the last time i come here. i wish i could've stuck it out for longer, but i will only hurt myself more if i do." he frowns. mash pushes himself off of your rock and stands before it. "however, i'll leave you with a few parting gifts before i go."
the once mushroom headed boy reaches into the basket he brought along with him. he sets a bag of three plain creampuffs onto the rock. next, mash carefully pulls out a flower crown that he personally weaved. all the flowers were taken from outside his home and the beloved enchanted forest.
"i always think about how nice you looked wearing one of these." mash says as he inspects his work one more time before placing it alongside the pastries.
and finally, mash reveals the birthday gift he was supposed to give you all those years ago with a reminiscent grin. "one of the greatest things about you was your music. you and that lyre were perfect partners, but even i could tell that that thing was old. so i thought, why not have another one?"
mash gently lays the instrument on top of the rock, allowing it to complete the trio of gifts. "i did my best to take care of it. i hope you like it."
the lonely old man doesn't say anything for a while. he only stares on as a wave of emotions surge in his heart. he puts a wrinkly hand on the wooden lyre. the corners of his lips pull into a small smile. "thanks for everything, (y/n). and just so you know, i really liked you too."
mash lets his hand linger for a moment before he pulls it away. he gathers the last of his belongings and leaves the pond behind, all while humming the tune of your song about the mighty warrior and his beloved back home.
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frostdayz · 2 months
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Daemon fluff?
ooo interesting!! you ask and you shall receive. Something small for now but I have something else in the works! BTWWW if anyone has requests send them my way. It doesn't have to be HOTD :)
Daemon targaryen x reader
genre: fluff!
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As the sun was setting over Dragonstone, casting a warm golden glow over the ancient stone walls. I stood in the courtyard, my heart racing with anticipation. It had been months since Daemon had left for his campaign, and now, finally, he was returning home.
The sound of hoofbeats echoed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. My eyes scanned the horizon until I saw him—Daemon, riding ahead of his men, his silver hair gleaming in the fading light. I could barely contain my excitement as I rushed forward, my heart pounding in my chest.
As he dismounted, our eyes met, and in that moment, the world seemed to stop. Daemon's face broke into a wide smile, and before I knew it, he was striding toward me, his steps quickening with each stride. The moment he reached me, he pulled me into his arms, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around.
"Y/N," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Gods, I've missed you."
"I've missed you too," I whispered, tears of joy streaming down my cheeks. "So much."
Daemon set me down gently, but he didn't let go. His hands roamed over my back, my arms, as if he couldn't get enough of touching me, reassuring himself that I was real. His lips found mine in a searing kiss, full of passion and longing. I melted into him, clinging to him as if I might never let go.
When we finally pulled apart, Daemon rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Every day without you felt like an eternity," he murmured, his fingers threading through my hair. "But I'm here now, and I won't leave your side again."
I smiled up at him, my heart swelling with love. "Good," I replied. "Because I don't think I could bear to be apart from you again."
We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon. Daemon's men discreetly took their leave, giving us the privacy we so desperately needed. Hand in hand, we made our way inside, to the warmth and comfort of our chambers.
Once we were alone, Daemon's intensity only grew. His hands roamed over me with a hunger that left me breathless, his lips tracing a path of fire across my skin. "I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel you, to hold you, to love you."
"Then take me," I replied, my own desire mirrored in my voice. "I'm yours, Daemon. Always."
With a low growl, he scooped me up and carried me to our bed, laying me down with infinite care. As he joined me, his body pressing against mine, I felt a sense of completeness, of belonging. The months of longing and loneliness melted away, replaced by the overwhelming joy of being in his arms again.
That night, we made love with a fervor born of months of separation, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Every touch, every kiss, was a reaffirmation of our love, a promise that no matter the distance or the time apart, we would always find our way back to each other.
As we lay tangled together in the aftermath, Daemon held me close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.
"I love you too," I replied, my heart overflowing with happiness. "Forever."
In Daemon's arms, I felt safe, cherished, and above all, loved."
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viviennevermillion · 1 year
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ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ
❝ always there to warm you in the winter.... always there with shelter from the rain... always there to catch you when you're falling... always there to stand you up again... family...❞ — Lady & the Tramp 2
notes: i see chapter 7 part 4 did things to our puny little minds. part of @briarvalleyarchives "anthems of old" event. a short story about lilia, malleus and whom they've lost.
warnings: character death, major chapter 7 spoilers
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The winter after the beloved princess had passed was a cruel and solemn one. The snowflakes would travel through the cold air of Briar Valley as they had done so many times in the years prior and hit the ground, melting into the ones that had come before; a fate that was all too familiar to the residents of the small nation. The war had left its scars upon the lands. Beasts had run rampant in the villages; destroying homes that had been carefully built with love and dedication. The caves in the mountains were stripped of their glamour, the crystals that had reflected the sunlight that would, despite all odds, break through the cracks, were stolen by beasts unfamiliar to the once peaceful home of the fae.
Because some beasts were not as easy to handle as the demon beasts that came from the mountains to wreak havoc in the settlements. No one knew that better than the fearsome General Vanrouge. From the moment Lady Mallenoa had entered her eternal slumber; with no amount of love able to wake her once more, it was as though winter never ended. Memories of times gone by would flash through his mind; the way they had played in the snow as children and the young princess would never go easy on him; using her magic to turn the previously innocent game into a battlefield of snowballs that left Lilia no room to fight back. It took centuries for him to be able to hold a candle to her power.
Now the snow was stained with the blood of his enemies. At the time, the general had never taken a moment to think about whether the Silver Owls he had slain had a family waiting for them at home as well. They had taken his, so they were undeserving of theirs. General Vanrouge had been consumed by the rage and bitterness in his heart, destroying all who dared stand in his path, for his heart now belonged to battle. This way, he wouldn't have to mourn the past.
He remembered vividly, always, the day they laid her to rest. It seemed as though the whole kingdom was present to say their goodbyes to her. Each citizen who attended the burial was dressed in black for this day, illuminated in the dead of night only by the candles they held as the princess was carried in a casket to her final resting place. The queen had placed a single rose on the ground that to Lilia seemed as though it had swallowed her. Lilia had walked up to the grave later when everyone had left. He thought of the egg still rested and protected within the chambers of the castle. "I promise, for as long as I live, no harm shall come to it. And not a day will go by....that I don't miss your smile", his voice cracked as the tears started streaming down his face. The seasons would go by and yet the cold never passed. Not when the sun would rise on the next day, not when it had risen a hundred years later.
General Vanrouge remembered how she had taught him to play stringed instruments, something he found boring and pointless as a child. Princess Mallenoa always had such a soothing voice. He remembered how she'd sit next to her egg with Prince Levan and sing a soft song to the unborn child. Now Lilia's heart sang without a sound; a quiet melody of grief and unrest. Her funeral was the last time he had allowed himself to cry. The numbness in his heart when he'd open his eyes in the morning didn't fade for decades, centuries even. These were lifespans in the eyes of a child of man; and they seemed to have forgotten all about the devastation they had brought to Briar Valley just a few hundred years later. But a soldier's heart never forgets. It never forgives. That was what Lilia thought at the time. Pain had made him heartless and his heart had been locked away for he feared the pain it held more than any foe on the battlefield. He only hoped, wherever she was now, that she had found peace.
How many times had he wished to feel again? To wake up in the morning and hear her pounding on his door, angry about something. It had annoyed him at the time. But she had been alive.
Yes, the seasons had gone by, yet eternal winter resided in the hearts of the people. But nothing stopped another day. Nothing stopped the inevitable; that the general's heart would thaw one day and spring would arrive in Briar Valley.
It was a miracle. At this point, the egg was more of a reminder of a future that would never be. A memory. Something to make one realize that the royal family would die with Queen Maleficia; the future of the kingdom as uncertain as it had been since the day the war ended. And who would blame anyone? It had been centuries.
But Malleus was spring.
He was the reason General Vanrouge shed a tear once more. One of relief and of love he thought he no longer had inside him. He had smiled when he first saw the little dragon fae with his eggshell on his small face. A smile he was sure the princess would have teased him for. After all, wasn't it him who had always said that he hated children? Who had refused to hold her egg when she had offered it to him? Yet in that moment, he couldn't help to do so. He had picked the little prince up and looked at the queen with the brightest smile she had seen on him in centuries. Tears were streaming down his face as the small fae was just looking up at him with awe and curiosity in his eyes. People say that when someone passes, in a way they are still with you. Lilia had always thought that this was bullshit, he had been far too bitter to notice. But in that moment, he realized that Mallenoa was all around him. He held her legacy in his arms. "She saved us once again, didn't she?", he had whispered quietly, wiping the tears from his face.
The little prince grew up healthy and not one bit less of a fire hazard than his mother had been. He grew up unaware of the bloodshed that had stained his beloved homeland when his egg had come into existence. Unaware of what his parents had sacrificed, of what Lilia had sacrificed, so that he could live and grow. But he had often wondered what it would be like if his parents were still around. Sometimes Malleus would sneak out of the castle, quietly observing the people in the village at the foot of the mountain in awe. He saw little children, not much older than him, protesting under tears because they didn't want to go clothes shopping for their uncle's 900th birthday as they were dragged by their parents' hand and promised their favorite candy if they would go along without making a fuss. He witnessed a mother explaining to her toddler what a bird was. He watched and listened as a father read his son a story on a bench by the fountain. Lilia had read him lots of stories before. But Malleus had always wondered what his father's voice would have sounded like doing this.
The prince spent most of his days alone in the castle. Lilia still had work to do and his grandmother was busy ruling an entire country as he would come to do one day as well. So as soon as Malleus had learnt to read, he would spend his time in the library, curiously exploring stories from a world beyond the castle walls; hoping that he would one day spread his wings to set off and see it for himself. Lots of the stories contained themes of family but few of the families looked quite like his. There was always a mother, a father and at least one child. Malleus would take the books and show it to his guardian, asking Lilia what his father was like and whether he would have taken him fishing like the farmer did with his son in the picture book. There was a flash of pain on Lilia's expression that Malleus had never noticed back then. "I'm sure he would have", the older fae had answered. The stories Malleus heard about his own parents were always short and vague. But Lilia had told him that they were exceptional people who would be proud of him if they could see him now.
Malleus had always wondered what having a father was like. He would get his answer when Lilia took a small human into his custody. Malleus was curious about the baby, always sneaking out to visit the cottage in the forest to see what his guardian was up to. At first he was pouting because Lilia was now giving most of his attention to someone else. But with time he had grown to care for the little child of man. Lilia seemed much happier now. Time had healed his wounds despite the scars of battle and loss never truly fading. He would arrive at the castle to do a task the queen had assigned to him and the prince would greet him to ask about how Silver was doing. Malleus was happy that Silver got to grew up with a father. He never fathomed that both of them could lose him.
The world was simple back then. It was just the castle, Malleus, his grandmother, Lilia and the little human he was raising and that Malleus would often play with or read to when Lilia had work to do at the palace. He couldn't ever have imagined going to Night Raven College and finding the world had changed so much from the one he read about in books. Or that his third year would mark his last with Lilia. That he would see Silver cry and grieve like this.
The world outside of Briar Valley was one he had always longed to see and that brought him many curious, but happy memories. He had learnt about the Halloween traditions of other nations and celebrated the holiday together with them. He had cooked a meal for the first time and the person he had served it to had enjoyed it. He had seen other countries and took part in their culture.
Even Lilia still found the school to be a place for new experiences. He had met a friend on this strange invention called the "Internet" and treasured that friendship despite never having met this friend in person. This online friend would often talk to Lilia in the chat, casually mentioning how he had obtained the newest addition of his favorite manga or played a game with his brother. Lilia would hesitate for a moment, recalling memories that seemed so long ago to him now.
"I had a sister... once."
He deleted the words before he had sent them. No need to bother Gloomurai with a sob story from his life that happened centuries ago. Little did he know that the stranger on the other side of the screen understood all about the struggle of losing a sibling.
Yes, Night Raven College was full of new beginnings for Malleus and his family. But it was the way of the world that nothing could truly last forever, tragic and unfair as it was. Nothing stops another day. Not even a sleeping curse or an overblot dragon. The spell laid waste to Sage's Island, and although the damage was way less than it could have been, the aftermath of it could still be seen everywhere one looked. Malleus felt ashamed of what he had done and Lilia was reminded of scenes from the war long ago.
But everyone joined together to help and rebuild what had been destroyed. Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy. Fairies and Humans.
"Seems as though we avoided the worst case, huh?", Lilia mused as he noticed Queen Maleficia, the dragon fairy who had raised him since he was a baby, standing next to him. The queen nodded and noted what a bureaucratical nightmare this whole ordeal would be despite all.
Lilia looked at the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. The fae who had come to the island to break through the spell and fight against Malleus's overblot were now helping the locals rebuild their houses with magic. The students would hand out meals to everyone who helped. The citizens were already planting new seeds in place of the trees and fields that had been destroyed. They would one day grow into an idyllic image of a peaceful home. Just as Malleus and Silver had grown into formidable people. The young prince had fallen further than he ever did before, but now the old general was certain that he could stand on his own feet at last. Both of his sons could. And the bat fae was glad that he could depart knowing this much.
"It seems the children of man truly know no rest when it comes to progress", the queen remarked, looking at the humans who fixed the fields beside the village and the fae soldiers who were assisting them.
"It appears so"
"What are they planting?"
Lilia looked at the rising sun, remembering the faith that Princess Mallenoa once had; that mankind and fae would one day live in peace and help each other grow. He had called it foolish at the time, mocking his sister's words by calling them a fever dream. Yet this was just another way in which she had changed his world, just as the little prince he raised had been. There was a smile on his face as he thought about how this day might just mark the beginning of the future the princess had envisioned.
"Hope."
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sillyvampireboi · 6 months
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Nectar from the giving hands
Summary: Renfield being hand fed and praised finally.
Contents: renfield x reader, reader is renfield’s new vampire master, gender neutral reader, he/him pronounces for reader, writing exercise
Nsfw: dom/sub, master/slave, top!reader, sub renfield, praise kink, neck fetish, no intercourse, blood kink, blood drinking, gentle dom, hand feeding
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a/n: first Renfield smutty fic I’ve written whehe! Would love to know what you guys think ~ Also I might or might not write a second part of this one shot *wink wink*
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And his lips met with the ice cold hands, drinking the thick, dark liquid from them. He savored every drop, as it was honey falling from the honeycomb.
It was an electrifying site, seeing the master and his servant in front of the huge fireplace. The sky wore her dark cape over her shoulders outside, wearing her millions of star-jewels on her chest. The moon as her tiara was sitting on her head, illuminating the outside world in a dim yellow light. A quiet stillness rested on that cape coverd day, as the tiara’s light faintly shone through the huge windows of our scene. It was the biggest room of a small mansion in a village, which was in a far secluded area. It was 4 hours away from any form of civilization, surrounded by huge forests and pretty fields.
It was your idea to settle down in a quiet place after centuries of aimlessly roaming in the wide world, and your new familiar more than gladly complied. You learned about his service of Dracula, his fall and the servant’s deep hidden desires and dreams quite fast. He was like an open book in front you, you just had to turn the beautifully written pages and read.
Your approach -you couldn’t quite place the term - as you called it, was different from Dracula’s and other ancient vampires regarding the treatment of their familiars. You despised the handling of ‘inferiors’ even back in the 16th century and you didn’t start to like it now. It was cruel if anything in your eyes. So when you met Renfield and saw what damage serving Dracula across hundreds of years did to him, you swore to care about him the way he deserved. You picked up quickly, that praise, in any amount or form, has a peculiar effect on him.
That was one of the reasons you two were in the biggest room of your mansion, in front of the warm fireplace. You were sitting in the huge, comfortable armchair which was pulled next to the heat so the fire was on your left. And in front of you, between your legs was Renfield on his knees, looking as beautiful as ever drinking from your hands.
Robert Montague Renfield. A handsome man, whose youth has been locked between time, forever frozen in the garden of eternity. His pale cheeks will never lose the faint blush they possess, nor the twinkling will never fade from the beautiful ocean-blue eyes, nor the lips will lose their full redness. His soul has been cracked and crushed countless times during his endless life, yet his golden heart still beats fully between the cages of his chest. Such unearthly beauty inside and out, and Dracula dared to toy with him! The thought left the flames of fury traveling through your dead body every time.
You gently caressed the top of his night-dark hair with your free hand, as you reached the other towards him, replacing the already drank blood. He licked hungrily, slurping the drops that started escaping from your fingers first, cleaning them clean with his tongue.
“That’s it, that’s my good boy. You were hungry weren’t you?” - your quiet voice floated into the room, carrying gentleness and unheard praises.
He was already fidgeting awkwardly since the beginning of the night, hearing your calm voice addressed to him. Since you started the gentle caress on his head, it left pink flowers to form in his cheeks. Now however, hearing the way you called him, the flowers started to bloom and colour his usually pale skin.
“Yes, master.” - he said quietly, suddenly too shy to look up at you.
Robert Montague Renfield.
Always eager to please and serve,
while not expecting anything in return.
So a praise on his work,
leaves him in shock,
blushing and not knowing how to respond.
You adorable little man, tonight I’ll shower you in the admiration you deserve. You thought, as you let your index and middle finger sink into the warm liquid. As you lifted your arm, the blood started to form little vein-like rivers down your straight fingers, along your palm. Renfield looked mesmerized, mouth slightly open and staring at your red covered fingers. His blue irises followed the now formed little veins along the curves of your hand, drinking in their sight. Since you didn’t move, he hesitantly glanced up at you.
“Yes? What’s the problem, Renfield?”
“N-nothing master! I’m sorry!” - shit, you didn’t want to freak him out. Must be more careful with the teasing, you concluded.
His elegant eyebrows frowned in anxious knots, as he tried to curl as small as his tall figure let him.
“You did nothing wrong Robert.” - at the sound of his first name, his head turned towards you, eyes shining with a warm light. You called him Robert! Called him by his first name! And how sweet his name rolled on your tongue, as a peaceful river flowing on rocks. - “ You were staring at my hand, you wanted to do something but hesitated. What did you want to do?”
“I-I just.. I wa-... I don’t know, master.”
“I know when you are lying Robert. Tell me, my little bug. I’m not angry that you want something.” - oh that saccharine voice directed to him again. How he adored everything about you! From your dark, malicious eyes that carried care, to your cold embrace which still felt warm somehow. He bore his baby blue eyes into yours and whispered in a small but hopeful trusting voice - “I .. wanted to-to taste.”
Trusting voice, your mind chirped as your fingers were still frozen in mid air. You knew how difficult it was for Renfield to bond with someone on a deep level, especially trusting, and yet here he was admitting the desire of his heart, looking up at you, waiting.
“You’ve been a very good boy, Robert. And good boys get what they want.” - you purred as you moved your hand to be in front of his face. Ah, how pretty he looked between your legs, his pale skin lighted by his own excitement and the heat from the fireplace. Golden and orange flames framed his figure from the left side, his night-dark hair mirroring their illuminations while his striking blue eyes gleamed.
Your words again! They patted his heart and pulled him closer to you, hugging him warmly. The flames from the fire started to appear on his cheeks as well, spreading across his face and neck. He stole a careful look towards you, silently asking for permission. The second you nodded your approval, his tongue embraced your fingers. He licked along your slender fingers, tasting the blood, not letting any drop escape, then he worked his lips on the side of your palm, collecting and devouring the veins formed there. The more he licked, the more his face started to bear a similar shade of the thick liquid. His breath started to become haggard, and his tongue technique sloppysh.
“That’s my good little Robert, cleaning my hand and not letting the blood go to waste.” - you continued the rain of your praises, while you began caressing his hair. He couldn’t stop the whimper breaking out from the back of his throat, as you carried on with the fondling.
Greedily he took your fingers fully in his mouth, closing them between the slick walls of his chops. He slurped and stroked and tasted, his tongue tangling around both. It didn’t take much time for his head to start bobbing up and down, moaning around your slender fingers and whining for more friction.
He looked so disheveled and pathetic yet extremely lovely. Saliva started dropping from between his pink lips, flowing down his chin and jaw mixing with blood drops there. What a beautiful painting it was on his neck! Colours blending with heated skin and shiny drool, contouring his Adam’s apple and the relentlessly working muscles. He had a pretty neck, slender and pale, showing his purple arteries pulsating under pregamen skin, bearing white marks of old bites.
He appeared to be at peace, safe in the garden of your blood-red roses, a heavenly light shining through him. The tent in his trousers left a vet river down his thighs, smearing it all over his clothes.
You grabbed his inky hair, pulling his head back gently from your fingers. The moan that escaped his lips was so loud that the tiara wearing night sky stopped for a moment to listen.
“You are so good at obeying my orders Robert. I’m so lucky to have you. I know everyone wants a good little servant like you.” - you leaned down to whisper it into his ears and you trailed your cold fingers along the line of them.
He whined adorably while he laid his head on his left thigh, exhausted but blissful after the events of the night. His twinkling, baby-blue irises collided with your dark ones, flaming in the sizzling light of the flames. You read nothing but love in them, being completely open, builded walls long forgotten.
“Thank you master.” - he whispered with a hoarse but happy voice.
You continued patting his black locks, while the flowers of blushes overblownd, leaving their seeds for the future and his breath calmed down. He started to sink into a tranquil dream, pulling his lips into a soft smile. He looked so serene there, so you didn’t stir, just let him sleep while you kept patting his little head and whispering praises over him. It was still a few hours before sunrise, so you stayed there waiting over his dreams.
As the night sky started to take off her star-jewels and her moon-tiara, you lifted the dreaming man into your soft armchair without waking him. You covered him with a warm blanket and left a quill written note for him to find in the morning.
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Taglist: @unholy-gigi
(Let me know if you would like to be tagged :D)
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mesaulews · 1 month
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A Fallen Star's Revelation
In the endless cycle of time, for centuries, I was one of the brightest stars in the sky. When I was sent to Earth with holy orders, there was only a sense of duty within me; I was created as a soldier, a servant. But now, every time I look at Dean Winchester, the light of that star begins to fade. Every moment I spend with him transforms me into something more than an angel. When I descended into this world, I was cold and rigid like a stone, but Dean’s presence wore me down, shaped me, and molded me into something entirely different. Around him, this once emotionless soul began to feel. These feelings spin inside me like a storm; love, loyalty, fear… and this new, foreign emotion: love.
Dean is like a magnet to me. Every time he draws near, it’s as if my soul is pulled, my heart is wrenched out of place. Being with him is like standing at the edge of an ocean; the waves crash against my feet, trying to pull me in, but I resist. And now I understand that I am no longer just an angel; within my soul lies the fragility of a human. What I see in Dean’s eyes has reshaped me. I am strong beside him, but I am also weak. Like a piece of iron, he draws me in, bends me, and reveals something more within me.
But how do I confess? As an angel, I possess something I never had before in this world: fear. I am afraid of losing him. I feel like I’ve reached the end of an hourglass; with each grain that falls, time is running out. If I look into his eyes and reveal my feelings, what if he rejects me? What if this is our end? In that moment, my entire eternity will hinge on a single word from him.
Yet, a light burns within my heart. It’s as if I’m holding a torch inside, and no matter what, it’s impossible to extinguish this feeling. Dean is like the pages of a sacred book to me; the more I read each word, the deeper I dive, and the more I want to learn.
And here I am, wandering in the darkest corners of my soul, unsure of what to do with this love inside me. I feel like a traveler standing on a bridge; if I take one more step, I’ll either fall into the abyss or my wings will open. But I have to take this risk. Because Dean is like a sun to me; I cannot exist without his light.
This love may be my salvation, or it may be my end. But whatever happens, I no longer want to carry this burden. The time has come; I must unleash this storm from within. I must tell Dean my entire truth, for only with him can I be whole.
I am Castiel, a fallen star. But with him, I can be reborn.
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 2 years
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𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 + 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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A/N: Posting this again because Tumblr is being a nuisance and not showing my post in tags :)) It's just really freaking fluffy, enjoy!!
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
Was completely on board for a stargazing date. No large crowds of people? Peaceful nature, paired alongside you? It couldn’t get any better for Simon, except maybe staying in at home.
Packs a kit of things you might want, a blanket, a late dinner (that consisted of some very delicious sandwiches and veggies! You really didn’t know how he did it, those sandwiches were always so damn good)
Sets up the blanket in this really nice field he found one day when he was out on a jog. The open sky was visible for miles around, and there were little wildflowers everywhere.
Just holds you close to his side, and doesn’t want to let you go ever. Not that you minded.
“There was this one recruit that was just a little shit, didn’t bother me thankfully, but bothered another one of the female recruits,” you said, tone a bit irritated.
“Want me to do anything?” Simon asked. It was funny, he was almost like a guard dog. Guard bear? Given his size and all. It was cute, but you knew that he knew you could more than handle yourself.
“Nah, ripped him a new one the moment I saw it happen. Gotta teach them right early on, or they’ll think they can carry that attitude throughout their career” you say. “Looked like he saw his life flash before his eyes,” you giggled softly.
He only hums affectionately, brushing a hand over your head gently. That’s when you let out a gasp, pointing up at something in the sky.
“Simon! A shooting star, make a wish!” You say, sitting up and clasping your hands together before closing your eyes, murmuring a wish to yourself. He remained laying down, but he did wish for something wordlessly, as cheesy as the action might’ve been.
It was that you would stay by his side for the rest of eternity, because only then would it be enough time.
John Price
He would definitely say cheesy stuff about the universe, but with his voice it made it sound like your own personal David Attenborough.
“Did you know that we’re all made of stardust? Us, made up of the remnants of stars created billions of years before our lifetime,” he said with a little sparkle in his eyes, as if your very presence was proof of the fact.
I feel like Price, despite all that he’s seen over the years, still has such a beautiful view of the world
I mean, it makes sense, when he does so much to protect it
Not just the world, but the universe
When you look over at him, you just see this glimmer in his eyes as he looks up at the sky. So bright you can’t help but snuggle closer.
The conversation had slowed down to a stop for a little moment as you both just watched the sky in the quiet night. You take this moment to look over at John, and all his focus is directed toward the sky. His blue eyes shine bright in the glow of the moon as fascination dances through them.
It makes your heart feel warm inside, that despite all the horror he’s seen he still regards the world with such a glow.
You hope that glow never fades, only shines brighter as time goes by. You can’t help but cuddle closer, pressing your cheek to his chest. His arm tightens its hold around your shoulders as his focus is directed to you now.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asks.
“Nothing John,” you say with a smile. “Nothing at all.
Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish
Has a hatchback, so he figured it would be nice to bring a bunch of blankets and pillows and drive to a viewpoint somewhere in the middle of the night so you could both cuddle under the stars.
Is serious about the setup, everything has to be nice and cozy.
Even brought one of those little packs of string lights you can find at Walmart during Christmastime to set up so it's extra intimate.
Snacks? Of course! Can’t be getting hungry now, can we?
You sat wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, legs thrown over Johnny’s as he held you close. Every so often he would press a kiss on your forehead as you both just talked about anything and everything. The days you had, some goofy prank he pulled on Ghost, the funny recruit you had trained the other day.
“Here I am bleeding out from a gash in my side when L.T. tells this stupid joke. Completely out of the blue. Hells bells, I can’t even remember what the joke was now, I’m sure it wasn’t even funny but it was so random I laughed,” he chuckles to himself. “That just causes blood to spurt out from my side and all over Ghost’s hands as he's trying to patch me up, and all he can say is ‘Fucking hell Johnny’ which, of course, makes me laugh more,” he laughs. And you can’t but laugh along with him, the sound so contagious and light.
“Sounds like one hell of a mission, hm~?” you say, pressing a kiss to his chin.
“Aye sweetheart, wish you had been there. Would’ve patched me up real nice, better than L.T. ever could’ve done,” he says, brushing his fingers over your cheek fondly.
“Of course,” you respond.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick
Comes prepared to say the least. Snacks, blankets, heat packs, hot chocolate, you name it and he’s got it.
Was very giddy when you asked him if he wanted to leave base with you for a while to go stargazing.
You remember him saying on the first date that it was his ideal date, but at the time it was smack dab in the middle of winter, and while it wasn’t a bad time per se, there were better seasons to go in.
Loved learning about the stars in class as a kid, and it’s just stuck ever since.
You’re lying in Kyles's lap as you listen to him talk about his favourite stars. Every so often he would feed you a piece of candy as he did, otherwise, his fingers were running through your hair soothingly.
“Sirius is the brightest star we can see from Earth,” he points out before his hand returns back to the top of your head. “It’s actually a binary star, which means that they are a pair of stars orbiting alongside each other,” he explains before looking back down at you.
“What?” he asks as he looks at your goofy grin.
“Nothing, I just like the sound of your voice,” you say in response, and Kyle only trips over his words for a moment before deciding against them, opting to just kiss you instead.
Konig
Puts you on his shoulders as you walk through the open field, and says it's so you can be closer to the ones that are at least half as bright as you.
This makes your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, much to his amusement.
He’s just really sweet the entire time
Doesn’t know much about the stars and constellations so you make it a point to teach him all about them
He doesn’t say much in response, instead, he just listens to your voice as you talk excitedly.
“I think Lyra is my favourite constellation. It’s about the lyre, a musical instrument that was created by the god Hermes! He gifted it to Orpheus, you know the one from Hadestown that I always listen to?” you say excitedly, and Konig only nods as he watches you with fond eyes.
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” you ask, your voice tinged with sadness, judging by his lack of response this entire time. Panic flashes in his eyes as he feels you pull away from him slightly. He grabs your wrist in response, pulling you back to him.
“Never, Liebling,” he says. “You just speak so excitedly about this, and I enjoy your happiness as though it were my own. That…and well, the sound of your voice is very lovely,” he says, pink flushing his cheeks. You feel your own heat up at the admission before you pull him into a sweet kiss.
“Alright,” you smile.
A/N: I actually have a really vivid memory of going stargazing as a kid. Back in sixth grade, we were at an overnight camp in the middle of the Canadian winter, and when nighttime hit the counsellors took us out to this big open field in all our snow gear and just told us to lay down in the snow to look up at the stars. I just remember it being so calm and quiet. It was kinda far up North from any cities (close to Algonquin park :P) so there was no light pollution. Still one of my core memories, haha.
Anyway! If you want me to expand on any of these headcanons into a proper fic just let me know!!
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The entry list is complete
I said that I might have a hard time finding 40 entries with which to pad myself. Well, as it turns out, once I started, I had a hard time stopping, and had to restrain myself to not overshoot the 256.
So on top of the 216 user submitted tracks, I also have 40 of my own submissions. The bracket will be seeded on YouTube views, but I will however default to seeding my 40 submissions lower than your 216 user submissions.
Actual bracket (hopefully) soon to come.
User submitted tracks
46:ri-9
A Faint Hope
A Formidable Enemy
A Friend on My Mind
A Life Become Distant
A Life Overflowing
A Life Sent On
A Life Sent On (Flutes)
A Life Woven Together
A Moment of Eternity
A nopon’s life
A Step Away
A Tragic Decision
aBOreSSs
After Despair and Hope(Final Boss Theme)
Agniratha (Day)
Agniratha (Night) (XC1)
Agnus Battle
Agnus Castle Day
agnus colony (night)
Alcamoth, Imperial Capital (Night)
An Obstacle in Our Path (XC1)
At Our Life's End
Battle In The Skies Above
Battle on the Seas
Battle!! - Torna
Battle!! (xenoblade 2)
Battlefield ~ The Scramble of Life
Beyond the Sky
Beyond the Sky (acoustic arrangement) XC1 FC
Bionis Shoulder
Bionis’ Awakening
Black Tar
Blade~Those Who Know Fear
Brilliant Wings
Bringer of Chaos! Ultimate (XC2)
By My Side
Carrying the Weight of Life
cent-omnia region (day)
Central Factory - Xenoblade Chronicles DE
Chain Attack!
City Day
Colony 6 - Future
Colony 9 (Day)
Colony 9 (Night)
Contrition
Converging Emotions
Counterattack
Crisis
Death Match With Torna
Desolation
Don't Worry
Drifting Soul
Drifting Soul(Instrumental)
Driver VS
Elysium In The Dream
Elysium, In the Blue Sky
Engage the Enemy
Eryth Sea (Day)
Eryth Sea (Night)
Erythia Sea Day
Ever Come to an End
Everyday Life (XC1)
Face
Feelings Risen to the Sky
Feelings Upon This Melody
Field Kaijou
Fogbeasts (Future Connected)
Forest of the Nopon (Day)
Forest of the Nopon (Night)
Four-limbed Titan - Gormott
Friendship
Frontier Village (Day)
frontier village (Night)
Future Awaits
Gaur Plain (Day)
Gaur Plain (Night)
Gramps (Fonsett Village) Night/Day XC2
Great Cotte Falls (Day)
Great Cotte Falls (Night)
Homecoming
Hometown (Day)
Hometown (night)
hope for the future
How the Future Endures
Impending Crisis
In the forest (XZ ver,)
In the Refugee Camp
Incoming! (XC2)
Iris Network
Irregular Bound
Jump Towards the Morning Sun
Kaleidoscopic Core
Keves Battle
Kingdom of Uraya
Land of Morytha
Lasaria Woodland-Day
Life's Fading Flame ~ Holding These Thoughts
Loneliness
Lost Days of Warmth
Majesty
Malevolent Hollow
Manon
Mechanical Rhythm
Mechonis Field
melancholia
Melia ~ Ancient Memories
Memories
Millick Meadows (Day)
MNN + @0 (both halfs)
Mobius Battle M
Moebius Battle
Mor Ardain - Roaming the Wastes
New Battle!!!
Nia ~ Towards the Heavens
NLA Shigai
no3=NO.EX01
no4=D91M
no6=LP
no9=MONOX
Noah and N (Phase 1)
Noah and N (Phase 2)
Oblivia
off seer crys
off seer mio
off seer miyabi
off seer noah
Off-Seer - Xenoblade Chronicles 3
Once We Part Ways
One Last You
Origin Ascending
Origin Battle
Our Eternal Land
Our Paths May Never Cross
Over Despair and Animus
Over the Sinful Entreaty
Parting
Past From Far Distance
Praetor Amalthus- The Acting God
Prologue A
Prologue B
Rage, Darkness of the Heart
raTEoREkiSImeAra
Redeem The Future
Regret
Reminiscence
ribbi flats (day)
Riki the Legendary Heropon
Riki’s Kindness
Roar from Beyond
Satorl Marsh (Night)
Shadow of the Lowlands
Shining Aspiration ~ Inherited Melody
Ship In A Stormy Sea
Shulk and Fiora
So nah, so fern
Soldier's Paean
Something's Beginning to Move
Sorrow
Still, Move Forward
Suffocating Reverberation
Syra Hovering Reefs Day
Tactical Action
Tantal (Day)
Tantal (Night)
Tephra Cave
The Awakening (XC2)
The Battle is Upon Us
The Beginning of Our Memory
The Bereaved and Those Left Behind
the bereaved and those left behind (ver. 2)
The Decision
The End Lies Ahead
The Fallen Land
The False Queens
The God Slaying Sword
The Great Sea Stirs
The key we've lost
The Monado Awakens
The Power of Jin
The Tomorrow With You
the way (xenoblade x)
Theme X
Thoughts Enshrined
Time to Fight (Bionis' Shoulder)
Time to Fight!
Torigoth/Night
Uncontrollable
Unfinsihed Business
Urgency
Valak Mountain (Day)
valak mountain (Night)
Walking With You
Wanted Nia
Where it All Began - Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Where We Belong
Where We Used To Be
White All Around Us
Wir Fleigen
Words That Never Reached You
Xenoblade Chronicles Main Theme
yesterdale (night)
You Will Know Our Names
You Will Know Our Names (Finale)
You Will Recall Our Names
Young Warriors
Your Voice
Z10 Briefing
z15f20i12e09l14d (first half, aka Celica's theme)
z15f20i12e09l14d (Second half, aka Divine Roost)
z15f20i12e09l14d (Vocal Stem)
z29ba2t0t1l301e17 (z29 battle)
Z30 Free Battle
z37b20a13t01t08le
Z39 B Comical
Zanza the Divine
My own additions
Argentum (Day)
Argentum (Night)
Auresco, Royal Capital
Bionis' Interior (Pulse)
Bionis' Shoulder (Night)
Black Mountains
Cent-Omnia Region (Night)
Cliffs of Morytha
Colony 6 - Ether Mine
Crossing Swords
Enemies Closing In
Eye of Shining Justice
Fonsa Myma (Night)
Galahad Fortress
Gormott (Night)
Gormotti Forest
Gran Dell (Night)
Hidden Machina Village
Hope
Immediate Threat
Kingdom of Torna (Night)
Kingdom of Uraya (Night)
Leftheria Archipelago (Day)
Leftheria Archipelago (Night)
Omens of Life
Prison Island
Song of Giga Rosa
Spirit Crucible Elpys
Sword Valley (Night)
Tension
The Abandoned City
The Fallen Land (Night)
The Towering Yggdrasil
Towering Shadow
Ultimate Enemy
Urayan Tunnels
Visions of the Future
Yesterdale (Day)
Yggdrasil
You Will Know Our Names Finale (Climax)
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writingpaperghost · 5 months
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I think I'm going to give a little snippet each of my two other Rider roleswap AUs. This is the Fourze one, since I want to maybe get a bit more of the W one before I show anything.
Everything about Amanogawa High School was too bright; its students, its faculty, even its uniform, with its bright blues and reds. Amanogawa was where you went when you wanted a bright future – when you wanted to go to the stars. In that regard, Ryuusei Sakuta was horribly out of place, he had no desire to go to the stars, and his new uniform felt more like a prison compared to his old, dull, uniform back at Subaruboshi. Though he’d shed Subaruboshi’s brown uniform for Amanogawa’s bright blue and red, he wasn’t happy about it.
Amanogawa was a step towards the stars, and Ryuusei wanted nothing more than to stay on Earth.
Where Jirou was.
As he walked past the gate of Amanogawa, his new school, he checked his watch. He still had plenty of time, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. His parents thought that a change of scenery would be good for him, leave behind his problems at Subaruboshi. Ryuusei begged to differ, though, as now he had to start at a new school and deal with the fact that his best friend was in the hospital showing no signs of waking up.
“Make sure to make a few friends,” his mother had told him when she’d seen him off that morning. The last thing Ryuusei wanted to do was make friends, at Amanogawa of all places. Not when he was more worried about the friend he already had.
The homeroom teacher of class 2B seemed nice enough, Ms. Sonoda. He didn’t get to talk with her much, before class, not that he particularly cared to. He wanted the next year or so to go as quickly as possible, so he could go back to Subaruboshi. The bell rang and the class began to quiet down.
“Everyone, we have a new student, through the exchange program with Subaruboshi High School.” Ms. Sonoda introduced Ryuusei, and now all eyes were on him.
It was fortunate, or unfortunate for Ryuusei, that Subaruboshi had recently begun an exchange program with Amanogawa. That program was the only reason he’d found himself at a different school, now. He had the grades for it, but it was his parents who’d practically forced him to apply. It was just his luck that Ryuusei was the one chosen.
“I’m Ryuusei Sakuta,” He hated that he had to be here. “Let’s get along.”
“You can take the empty seat there in front of Utahoshi.” It wasn’t like Ryuusei knew who that was, but it was easy to tell where she was referring to. There was only one open seat in the classroom, after all. He supposed that made the grouchy looking boy behind it Utahoshi. Not that it mattered much, Ryuusei figures as he heads to sit down. He’s not here to make friends.
The girl beside him smiles, “I’m Yuuki Jojima,” she seems too friendly for Ryuusei’s liking. Ms. Sonoda begins to talk, though Jojima doesn’t seem to pay her much mind. “I can show you around-“
“Please pay attention, Jojima,” Ms. Sonoda called out. Jojima winced a little, but turned her attention towards the front with a small frown.
The next few hours went by quickly enough, Ryuusei let the instruction hold his attention more than much else. It was still far too long for his taste, and he was relieved when lunch finally came. He had intended to make a beeline for the cafeteria, but was stopped by Jojima.
“Let me show you around,” Jojima insisted.
Ryuusei hid his grimace with a polite smile, “No thank you, I’ll be alright.”
She frowned just a little, before that smile returned, “Amanogawa’s got some interesting groups, you’re new here, so you’re probably not going to fit in with anyone…”
“I’m not too worried about that,” Friendship isn’t needed here anyway.
“Come on,” Jojima grabbed his wrist and began to drag him out of the classroom, barely giving him any time to protest further. He sighed, deciding it would probably be best to let her do what she wanted.
At the very least, she waited until he had gotten lunch to launch onto her explanation of Amanogawa’s cliques. “You’ve got the popular kids, the football jocks, the nerds, the delinquents, the occult goths…” She listed, gesturing to each group. “And then you’ve got groups like them. I don’t even know what they’re deal is.” She gestured to where Utahoshi sat with another girl, who appeared to be something of a goth.
“All schools have their in groups of some kind,” Ryuusei responded. That was true even of Subaruboshi, though perhaps not as noticeably as here. Amanogawa appeared to allow a lot more leeway in their dress code. Well, Ryuusei had read the handbook, he knew for a fact their dress code was very lenient, not even requiring the school uniform. His parents had simply insisted he had to wear it, to his own dismay.
“Maybe…” She frowned a little again, before looking at the time. “Ah! Sorry, I have to go, I’m supposed to meet with someone!”
Ryuusei shrugged, “It’s fine.” He wants her gone, anyway. Something about her smile was starting to get on his nerves. She was way too earnest.
Oh, and that odd pair of Utahoshi and the goth had disappeared. They, like Yuuki, must have had somewhere else they’d rather be. Then again, so did Ryuusei, unfortunately for him, he just couldn’t go to where he’d rather be.
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hazelira · 2 months
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𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
@bywons - heeseung x y/n oneshot event
my love is mine all mine;
The night was calm and still, the kind that made your skin tingle with the promise of something unknown. The moon hung high above, a silver hole of light piercing through the darkness, casting an ethereal glow over the old, abandoned circus tent. The tent, now a relic of a bygone era, stood tall and silent, its colours faded but still holding a certain mystique. It was here, under this celestial spotlight, that Heeseung found you.
He was a vampire, a creature of the night, his existence a blend of elegance and danger. You were merely human, fragile and fleeting, your heartbeat a compelling rhythm that called to him irresistibly. Yet, there was something more between you two that transcended the boundaries of your mortal life and his eternal night.
Heeseung approached you, his footsteps silent on the dewy grass. You stood there, gazing up at the moon, lost in thoughts as elusive as night. When he reached you, he placed a cool hand on your shoulder, causing you to startle slightly before relaxing into his touch.
"You're always here," he murmured, his voice a soft caress in the darkness.
"Just thinking," you replied, leaning into him. His presence was a comfort, a strange contradiction to the fear he should instill. "The moon... it feels like it's watching over us."
Heeseung followed your gaze upwards, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "It's seen everything. Before us, after us. It's always there."
You turned to him, your eyes searching his face. "Heeseung, do you think the moon could carry our love? Even when we're gone, it could shine down, holding all we were?"
Heeseung's expression softened, a rare tenderness crossing his features. "You want to send your heart to the moon?"
You nodded your voice barely a whisper. "So when I die, which I must do, it could stay here, with you, shining down, a reminder of what we had."
Heeseung's grip tightened slightly, an almost imperceptible tremor running through him. The thought of losing you was a knife to his heart, one that twisted cruelly. "I wish I could keep you forever," he said, his voice breaking the silence like a prayer. "But your love... it's yours. All yours. And when you're gone, I'll hold onto it. I'll let it shine through the night, through the moon."
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. "My love is mine, Heeseung. It's all I have. Nothing in this world belongs to me but my love for you. And that's enough."
Heeseung bent down, pressing his forehead to yours. The closeness of him, the way his breath mingled with yours, was intoxicating. "Your love is everything," he whispered. "It's all I need. All I'll ever need."
A tear slipped down your cheek, and Heeseung caught it with his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that belied his nature. "My baby, here on earth, showed me what my heart was worth," you said, your voice shaking. "So, when it comes to be my turn, could you let the moon shine down here? For her?"
Heeseung kissed you then, a kiss filled with all the passion, fear, and love that words could never convey. It was a kiss that spoke of eternity, of promises made under the moon's watchful eye. When he pulled away, his eyes were dark with emotion.
"Always," he vowed. "For as long as the moon shines, I'll let your love be my light—mine, all mine."
You smiled a bittersweet expression that held your mortal heart's hope and sorrow. "Nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love... it's all yours, Heeseung. All mine, all yours."
Under the moonlight, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt the weight of time and eternity. The circus tent stood silent witness to your love, a love that would transcend even the bounds of life and death. And as the moon shone down, it seemed to carry your promise, your heart, into the endless night, a beacon of love that would never fade.
@bywons I hope I'm not too late, I wasn't able to post when wifi is an on and off situation in my city. But hopefully you guys enjoy reading!
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smallgodseries · 1 year
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[image description: A white background with very thin gold frame. A black wire crosses that frame at a slight angle. Centered in the frame is a singing bird rendered in ink lines. It has small heart markings on its chest and the word ‘Love’ on its wing. Text reads, “31, The Small God Love Bird”]
Love never dies.  It changes forms, yes.  It fades and falls into memory.  But as time is eternal, love is eternal, forever preserved somewhere in the clinging amber of the past, unable to fully pass away.
Gods of love are similar.  They flock around all its many forms and manifestations, from the small god of puppy love to the small goddess of first kisses, and some of them are venerated and some of them are forgotten, but all of them were, at least for a time, and so all of them will be forever.
The most important are always the first to fall.  Everyone remembers Aphrodite, in her famous see-through nightie, goddess of love and beauty and marrying for your own heart’s happiness, but how many remember the demigods who served under her?  They carried her intent into the world, and as a reward, their names were lost to history, lover’s letters left unread and untranslated, lover’s prayers unanswered.  For them, forever is a long and silent place.
But those with less import have a way of holding on.
We say messages fly on the wings of love.  We compare our hearts to birds held captive in cages made of bone.  We call love itself the thing with feathers.  And so, although it has no name, no clear plumage or identity, the love bird endures.It is a small god of all that loves, all forms of love, non-specialized yet still diminutive.  It spreads its wings to cover lusty lovers in the grass and sleeping siblings in their sleepaway tent at the same time.  Love is love is love, whether sexual or familial or the deep, complicated bonds of friendship, and the love bird perches on them all, feathered and fleet, too small to die, too enduring to ignore.
Its iconography is everywhere.  It will never fly away and leave us, but will love us all and always, and sing its songs just on the edge of hearing, where all ears are open as they tumble into sleep.
Love is love.
____________________________________________________________
Artist Lee Moyer (Trident of Aurelia, 13th Age) and author Seanan McGuire (Wayward Children, October Daye & InCryptid series) sincerely thank to each and every one of you who share Small Gods!
Tumblr: https://smallgodseries.tumblr.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/smallgodseries/
Homepage: http://www.smallgodseries.com/
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
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catt-wall-d-writer · 18 days
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Astarion - Ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone [1/2]
Tw: loving relationship turned toxic, angst, possible act3 spoilers
I primarily wrote this as a vent piece since I had, in an unfortunate chain of events, Ascended Astarion on my Durge resisting playthrough. So I decided to give my Tav and Astarion some deeper lore. There will be part two soon enough, but if you have any wishes let me know
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It seemed like yesterday that we spoke first of Ascension. Like it was merely a day ago, when the weak rays of sunlight in the Shadow Cursed Lands speckled against our skin as we prepared for the long trek to Wyrm’s Rock. 
The journey felt daunting but manageable then, as long as we were together. 
But it’s been so long… I can barely recognise the face I wake up next to every day.
At first I thought to indulge him, so every time we spoke of Ascension I would naively smile and nod, supporting his fight for freedom. I thought to let him down slowly, support his freedom of making a choice… Then later on, I tried hinting that it might not be the safest option. Oh what a fool I was. It was already too late. He has set his mind on becoming free… whatever that meant for him. 
At the time I thought he just wanted revenge, to slay Cazador in cold blood, slowly and painfully, the bastard deserved an eternity of torture, but his existence alone brought so much suffering that it was best to end him.
But not like this. 
I know it’s not my place to say, I should even be happy for him, he’s gotten his revenge and he has become undefeatable. Absolute.
But this just isn’t him.
I wonder this time where he's gone Wonder if he's gone to stay
These thoughts plague me, haunting every quiet moment. His gaze now seemed all knowing, piercing me as if he was looking  right through me. I felt fully bare before him. But unlike before, he never asked if I was alright. He just looks at me and carries on.
His touch has gotten rough, his words sharp and cruel. 
“My pet” he calls me, and like a fool, I glance at him and I don’t know if it is the radiance of the sun or if it is that last fading bit of hope glinting in my eyes.
“Yes, my love?” I answer, like a lovesick puppy.
“It truly is a pity that you resisted the Dread Lord’s calling… we could’ve been indestructible now, but look at you, clinging to your righteousness” he says, his disappointment seeping into each word.
I barely speak up in response, my throat swelling with the intense feeling of despair that has been brewing in me ever since he has Ascended “I…I resisted because I wanted to protect you…from myself”
“Oh please, I don’t need any protecting now, every other being pales in comparison to the power of a True Vampire Ascendant” he says nonchalantly, just showing me how much this new form has corrupted him.
Days blur together. I don’t remember the last time I talked to him, last time I heard his contagious laughter. Who is this man who grips me so roughly, who kisses me with a forced, mechanical passion?
I shift in bed, inadvertently bumping into him.
“Can’t sleep?” he says, his tone void of emotion.
“Mhm” is all I say, my eyes meeting his deep crimson ones. They glow in the dim light, scrutinizing me with a cold, detached curiosity.
“Sunrise isn’t far away” he says, as if a sanguine being like him would need to lie in bed and rest.
“Mhm” I repeat, unable to grasp the point of his words. He’s no longer capable of caring, and he’s shown me that time and time again.
“Say…pet…”  he starts slowly, and I feel him shift on the bed behind me, his chest flush against my backside “It’s been so long since you’ve invited me to…drink from you shall we say…” He says and I already feel his breath against my neck.
At least that part didn’t change, he still asks first.
“I must admit, I am feeling a bit…. Peckish” he continues since I didn’t reply, and I can almost feel his heart thrumming in his chest as he struggles to hold himself back.
I simply turn to face him and a single tear runs down my cheek as a stray ray of sun, peeks through the curtain, shining onto his beautiful pale face. The very same face, its smile a distant memory. 
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone. Only darkness every day.
I bury the memories and I give in, placing my palm on the side of his face, pulling him closer and he takes the opportunity to bury his fangs into my neck. As always, I wince a little at first, it just that he doesn’t even attempt to show concern for me or to comfort me. He takes and takes…
It's not warm when he's away.
It gets to me, I can’t say it doesn’t, yet I try to find comfort in it - even his cold cruel words can be twisted into something that can resemble kindness.
He greedily slurps my blood and I can feel my vision blurring. Is this it? Is this how I’ll end? At the hands of my lover- turned monster? 
As if sensing my despair, he suddenly halts. Without warning, he grips my neck with a vice-like hold and leans in, his breath hot and menacing against my ear. “My sweet pet,” he growls, his voice a groggy rumble, “All mine….and oh so eager to serve…”
I sigh.
And I know, I know, I know, I know
“I know what’s going through that pretty head of yours, pet” he says as he drags his fingers along my throat “I will not tolerate it” he warns me.
Have I no right to the sanctity of my own thoughts anymore? Is there no place left for me? Not just in his cold, dead heart, but anywhere?
It’s not too late to answer the calling of the Dread Lord 
Hey, I oughta leave that thing alone.
It would do me no good, becoming nothing more than a tool for senseless slaughter in the name of some god.
And yet, that might be the only way to make him see me as an equal. As a true partner. Not a toy, not a pet, not something to be owned and used.
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Bobby Singer was the person who knew her best, and she had never wondered what life would be like without him; he was omniscient, an immortal deity, and when Roman hit him with a bullet, the world stopped; she felt no sensation, as if under anesthesia. She seemed to stare at the entrance to the emergency room for an eternity and thanked Dean for carrying her in time to hear his last "idiots" and "princess" as he said goodbye for the last time to the children he was so proud of.
"I have to be with him. I have to be with him." she cried desperately as they pulled her away and she tried in vain to cling to every piece of furniture to keep from leaving the room, until the Winchesters intervened to calm her down.
Weeks passed. Lachelle would stay until five in the morning staring into the void, and Dean would lie beside her, hugging her as she tried to cry silently. The boys reacted first, devoting one to work and the other to Roman; she, on the other hand, was unable to formulate a thought, ate infrequently and dragged herself to the bathroom if it was essential. 
Sam was sitting at the foot of the bed and was trying to persuade her to leave the room.
"Come with me, I have a case. You have to resume sooner or later, you are a hunter." 
"I am really nothing."
"You save lives." he continued, raising his voice, attracting the attention of his brother, who leaned over, crossed his arms and watched them in silence.
"I don't want to save anyone. So many people die, why should others be saved?" there was rancor in the voice; it was not a good feeling, but at least it was reactions compared to the flat electrocardiogram of the last month. 
When the two hunters came out, she cried and then calmed herself by listening to loud music; the rumble of the bass pulsing in her ears tickled the skin along her arms as the warmth of tears flowed and came thinly to her lips. Her vision was completely blurred by scenes like faded-colored photographs: a hand from Bobby on her shoulder, a reassuring hug from him, a "don't worry, I'm here" look. She felt her air lacking, as if her lungs were no longer able to channel oxygen. Looking up she swallowed all the saliva, closed them again and saw him still with his back to her as she prepared lunch, his head tilted to hold the phone as he spoke, a glance at the TV on the news or a soap. Her heart was pounding, she felt constant pounding in her temples, and she hoped one of them was strong enough to knock her out. She dropped onto a bed and fell asleep. When they returned, the Winchesters agreed that no matter how much they might suffer, they always had each other; she had no one left.
"We won't leave her alone, Sammy," Dean ordered, looking at his brother.
"As of today I have a sister," Sam confirmed, then joined her in bed.
He arranged the rolled sheets and the movements made her wake up. She watched with a pale face as her friend settled beside her and reached diagonally to dive his head onto his chest: it was a thank you, sorry, she didn't know exactly, but they knew it implied she loved him. 
"You know you are important to Dean and me. We are here for you. I know it's not the same, but don't ever think you're alone. Okay?"
Little by little they also managed to take her out to eat, although she was not the same sunny person behind the dark mask; it was as if the dark part had come out.
"He said they put turmeric. I don't know what the hell it is but it's good. Do you want to?" Dean flashed her an awkward smile with chips hanging from his mouth to get her to respond, but she merely shook her head. "Bon Jovi, you and me, a beer, um? Bryan Adams, too, if you want." 
"No." she whispered at least her favorite word instead of silence. 
He reached out to move the unruly wisp behind her ear and she let her face rest on his warm hand, then rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, felt a kiss on the top of her head, and was reassured by the hand that continued to brush her hair. 
It took time but the day came when they saw her in fashionable jeans under a blue satin blouse, heeled boots and freshly done nails. 
"Where do we stand with your vindictive bullshit?" she entered the living room.
"Have you changed your mind?" they asked looking at each other and then at her.
"No, revenge is stupid, but I'm not abandoning the team and..." she looked in horror at the accumulated papers on the table. "Someone has to save the world. If we wait for Batman..."
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