#its over 8k

[shanastoryteller]

Princess Kaguya of the Moon

so while i was in japan i stumbled upon a pop up alien and space museum/art gallery (if you can’t find a thing in tokyo, it probably doesn’t exist) and there were these gorgeous feudal paintings of the tale of the bamboo cutter and it’s a very good story but

what if

it went

a little

differently?

kaguya is the princess of the moon. she is a young child, gangly thin limbs and a plump mouth permanently set in a stubborn pout. she is a beautiful child, even by the moon’s standards, with her cold opal eyes and hair the same deep black as the void of space. she is an unruly, irritable child. she runs from the priestesses who attempt to teach her her duties, and steps on the feet of little princes from far away stars that her parents parade in front of her. she can’t be soothed by sweets, by soft toys, by pretty songs. she is a being of constant want, and nothing in the whole of space seems to satisfy her.

kaguya does not love the moon as she should. she does not find beauty in it’s silvery, iridescent ground, nor in the pools beneath its surface that glint like mercury. she finds her citizens stuffy and annoying, and all the people from the stars think they’re better than them just because they shine a little brighter. it makes kaguya cross – the sun shines brightest of all, and the only beings that still reside on it is a great monster of a dragon that no one dares cross.

the priestesses try to entice her to learn this portion of her duties at least, but she runs from them and plugs her ears and does not listen. there are times when the sun and moon cross paths, and when they do the great dragon of the sun attempts to gobble them up whole. it is only by praying to the god tsukuyomi and erecting a barrier that the royal family can protect their home from the sun dragon.

it is kaguya’s most sacred duty, and she has no interest in it.

she’s simultaneously bored by her home and insulted when others find it lacking, and this contrary rational might be distressing to the logic of an adult, but kaguya is not an adult. she is a child, and being contrary is her prerogative.

she is walking through in the courtyard behind a palace when a shooting star passes her by, then circles back again. it’s s such a little thing, it must have been traveling for a very long time, because it’s burned down so it’s only about half as big as kaguya. this means the star is very old. “child,” the falling star says, voice ancient and crackling, “why are you sad?”

“i am not sad,” she answers, but as soon as she says that she knows it’s a lie, and tears prick at her eyes. “i am always lonely, though i am surrounded by people. i am always bored, though there are many things to entertain me. i am always angry, though there is nothing wrong. i am sad because i am a piece that does not fit.”

“maybe you are simply a piece that belongs to a different puzzle,” the falling star says, “come, climb onto me, and i will i take you somewhere new.”

“will it be better?” she asks.

if a falling star could shrug this one would, but it can’t so it doesn’t. “it will be different.”

different sounds better to kaguya. she agrees, not bothering to say goodbye to her parents or her people, does not take one last look at the beauty of the moon’s surface. instead she climbs onto the falling star, her skin thick enough that she does not feel its burn, and rides it all the way down, until it is a star no longer and only a falling rock, until she goes tumbling onto a whole new planet, and as she falls she thinks that this new planet looks very green.

~

there is an old man called taketori no okina. he lives alone in a great bamboo field, and every day he wakes up at dawn and cuts bamboo until dusk, then he goes home and eats and sleeps and wakes up in the morning to do it all again. when he was a young man, taketori no okina fell in love with a samurai who had laughter lines around his mouth and strong hands, who taught him how to wield blades with a strength and skill that could cut down the strongest soldiers. but taketori no okina only uses it to harvest bamboo. the samurai was engaged to the daughter of a respectable family, and so he left. he left his village not long after the samurai, unable to be there alone in the place where they used to be together.  taketori no okina’s heart was so full of love for his samurai that he could not bear to love another, and so he never did.

he is awoken in the middle of the night by a bang that shakes his home and nearly deafens him. he stumbles outside, and a couple miles into his field he sees smoke. he goes running for it, concerns about fire and war – they’re in a time of peace now, but they weren’t always – rushing through his mind as he stumbles through. when he reaches the source, it’s to find his bamboo flattened in a ten foot wide circle and a little girl lying in the center. he falls to his knees beside her and carefully picks her up, cradling her in his arms. she’s pale, like she doesn’t spend enough time in the sun, and has long black hair. her thin chest rises and falls with her deep breaths, and he is relieved that she’s alive. “little girl,” he says, “you must wake up and tell me if you are all right.”

she opens her eyes, two pearls set in her delicate face. “i am well,” she says, and smiles at him. she curls into him, setting her head against his chest, “you are warm. i will stay with you, for you are warm and have a kind face.”

she falls asleep once more, a hand clutching something laying across her stomach and her other hand fisted into his robe. taketori no okina looks at this little girl and feels his heart expand, until it’s straining against his rib cage. he loves his samurai as much as he always has, but now his heart is bigger. it’s made room so he can fill it with love for this little girl, and so he does.

he carries her to his home and settles her into his bed. it’s a small bed, meant only for one, and she is a little thing, but he does not wish to crowd her, so takes the floor. tomorrow he will build her a bed and take her to market and show her the hot springs near the mountain. for now he falls asleep listening to her soft breathing with a smile.

the next morning he wakes up to her sitting on the floor by his side, running her fingers over a pockmarked stone. “what is that?”

“it is all that is left of my friend. she was once a great star but she fell, as all great stars must. she carried me here because i was sad. but now i am sad that she is gone.”

“that’s all right,” taketori no okina says, and she blinks down at him. no one had ever told her that it was okay that she was sad before. “she was very special, so we must put her in a very special place.”

he gets up and builds a ledge across the window with a platform just big enough for the stone to fit. he lifts her up so that she can set what’s left of her friend on it herself. “now she can see you and sky she came from at the same time, and you will always be able to see her.”

“she cannot see anything anymore,” she says, but she likes the idea of it, the sentiment. she feels less sad at her loss now, although she can’t say why, since nothing has changed.

once he has set her back on her feet she looks up at him and says, “i am kaguya. what shall i call you?”

“they call me taketori no okina,” he pushes a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, “you may call me whatever you like.”

she wrinkles her nose at that name. it is too long, and too formal. if she is to call him that, then he might as well call her princess kaguya, and she might as well not have left the moon at all. “i will call you oyaji,” she declares, and it’s not a term she’d used even with her father on the moon, but for this old man who built her a shelf and carried her home and had large, rough hands that touch her gently, she thinks it fits.

~

kaguya quite likes the new planet and her new father. he is man who’s spent a lifetime working and doing little else. he has a tidy savings that he cheerfully depletes on her; he buys her colorful kimonos for her to wear when he walks her to market, and functional kosodes for the days she spends playing in the river and darting through the bamboo forests. he tells her stories at night, of his samurai, of the emperor, and when he exhausts his reservoir of stories about this land, he tells her the tales of other ones – the fire-rats of china, the buddha of india, and when he even those run out he tells her of dragons, of a magical island called horai.

she loves these stories, and she loves him. there are days when she is sad and cross, and on those days oyaji kisses her forehead and tucks the blanket around her shoulder and brings her something spicy from the market for dinner. oyaji just lets her be sad or angry when she wants to be, and because of that kaguya finds that now she gets sad less and less, that more often than not she’s …. happy.

she notices the special care oyaji takes when he talks of samurai, and sees the strength and power in his limbs when he cuts bamboo, and decides she would like to be strong like the samurai in his stories, like oyaji is himself. so she asks and asks, and he’s worried that it’s too dangerous for her. but oyaji loves her like she’s his own flesh and blood, and is unable to deny her anything.

kaguya grows up. she grows up on stories of far off lands and magic, she grows up on warm, simple food made by someone who loves her, she grows up learning to wield blades with the same brute efficiency as oyaji. kaguya grows up beautiful. her skin is darker now that she dances in the sun’s rays, her hair is long and fine, and her eyes are as they’ve always been – pale and beautiful, small versions of the moon she was born on. she moves with a steadied grace that only a deadly woman can master and has the whipcord strength of body from days working in the bamboo fields alongside her father, but all the delicate features of the princess she was born as.

they were left alone when she was a child, when oyaji took her hand and guided her to meat stalls and cloth sellers and bought sparkly combs for her to wear in her hair. but kaguya is a child no longer. she is a young woman, and tales of her beauty spread far and wide. just as when she was a child and princes from far off stars came to court her, now princes come from far off lands. as a child she stepped on their feet, and as a woman she wishes to take her shiny blades and cut them from navel to neck. but she is not a princess here, she is the poor daughter of a poor bamboo cutter, and must act accordingly. she can’t go slicing up arrogant suitors who believe they are entitled to her, no matter how much she would like to.

the most persistent are five princes from lands far from here. she requests a betrothal gift from each of them, and says she will marry the first to return.

from the first prince, she requests the stone begging bowl of buddha.

from the second prince, she requests a jeweled branch from horai.

from the third prince, she requests a fire-rat robe.

from the fourth prince, she requests a cowry shell born of swallows.

from the fifth prince, she requests a colored jewel from a dragon’s neck.

off they go to fulfill her impossible requests, and kaguya rests easy knowing that they will not return, or if they do they will return empty handed.

but this is not the end.

the young emperor mikado has heard nothing but tales of this beautiful girl with eyes like pearls, and he’s curious. he wishes to go see her for himself, and when his council protests he quells their worries by saying he will bring suenori with him, one of his most trusted advisors, a dear friend and an accomplished samurai. they still aren’t happy, but he is emperor, and will do as he pleases.

privately, mikado apologizes for volunteering suenori without asking. suenori does not mind, but he asks, “do you think you will love this girl just because she is beautiful?”

“i think we are a rich nation of many gifts, and a bountiful supply of beautiful young woman is among them. yet only tales of this woman reach my ears – which means she must be so much more than beautiful,” the emperor answers.

suenori has a face worn into seriousness thanks to years of faithful service to his emperor, but his lips curl into a smile. mikado blinks – he doesn’t think he’s ever seen an expression quite like this on his advisor’s face before.  suenori says, “if you believe you may love her, then we must go. love is as vital as water, your majesty.”

“i am pleased to hear you say that, but surprised,” the emperor says carefully, “seeing as you are an unmarried man.”

“i was engaged once,” he answers, offhand, “but know this, if you are so determined to seek out this girl – you never fall out of true love. it’s a sentence as final and as terrible as death.”

~

mikado travels to the village in secret and sneaks into the bamboo fields. he sees her working alongside her father, rippling muscles and sweat soaked and every inch as beautiful as the rumors said she would be. but the emperor is no fool – there are many beautiful women in the world. though she is the most beautiful he has ever seen, that does not necessarily mean she is worth pursuing. so he waits, until she walks to market, wearing a delicate kimono and with glittering combs in her hair, things that it must not have been easy for her father to afford, things that were bought for her out of love.

he sits besides her at a food stand, dressed like a common man, and she wrinkles her nose at him. he ignores that and says, “you have lovely hands.”

she blinks, and turns to him. he’s surprised her. her hands have scars on them that could only come from throwing knives, and palms that are rough from long hours of work. she glances down at his hands – soft, unmarked, hands that have never struggled, and her lips quirk up the corners. “as do you.”

and after that it’s easy enough to draw her into a conversation, and he finds she’s funny and has a nice smile and is a dutiful daughter who loves her father, finds that her favorite taste is sun warmed, ripe cherries picked right off the tree. she tells a story about how as a child she’d muttered something about a bamboo castle as her father was tucking her into bed, and the next morning she’d woken up to find he’d spent the whole night lashing together bamboo to build a small palace just her size. she loved it so much she insisted on sleeping in it.

she leaves, but her eyes linger on him. she returns the next day, and he is there, waiting. this time she’s the one to sit down next to him and pull him into a conversation about how the rain has risen the riverbed. they talk about her town, and he tells her of the city he’s from. she tells him of her father, of the stories she grew up with. each night she returns to the stall, and each night he is there, waiting. after many days she points up in the sky and tells him which stars are her favorite, voice hushed like she’s imparting some great secret, and he knows at this moment that he loves her.

mikado thinks that all those people who talk about her pleasant face and long limbs are idiots. there are so many things about her that are more beautiful than her face. mikado thinks this must be true love, because only true love could consume him so quickly, could make a home in his chest after only a handful of conversations. he is the emperor, and decides the only woman worthy of being empress is the daughter of a poor bamboo cutter. but he’s not as foolish as those other princes. he knows she is not something he can take – she is someone he must earn.

so he learns of the five impossible things she asked for, and goes about getting them.

~

kaguya wakes up and steps outside to a gift left on their doorstep. she unwraps it, and in it is a small golden prayer bowl. sanskrit edges the rim, and there is a note explaining that is has been blessed by a powerful buddhist monk, and that she should keep it upright so that it can fill up with good fortune.

it is not the prayer bowl of buddha, but it’s almost as good, and much more thoughtful. she asks around town, but no one has seen the first prince return. she shows her father. “it is a special thing,” he says, “and so it deserves a special place.” he builds a wide shelf across the window, right below the thin one holding the last piece of kaguya’s falling star. kaguya places it upright, then bows, and wishes for good fortune.

the next morning she finds another gift outside her door. it is a small branch from a sakura tree, polished to shine. embedded in it are glittering jewels of incalculable value. she asks around town, but no one has seen the second prince return. she places it on the shelf next to the prayer bowl, and admires the colors that are cast over her walls as the sun shines against it.

in the morning she finds another gift. it is a haori made of the finest silk in china. it is bright red, with the legend of the fire-rats stitched across it in excruciating detail. she asks around town, but no one has seen the third prince return. its fits her perfectly, and feel like water against her skin. she folds it and keeps it on the shelf next to the bejeweled branch.

she awakens to another gift outside her door. it’s a swallow nest with cowry shells in it. she’s confused until she picks it up, and it’s grainy and stiff with salt. it smells like the ocean, and a swallow must have built their nest low enough and close enough to the sea for cowries to inch their way into it. she asks around town, but no one has seen the fourth prince return. she places the nest with the cowry shells on the shelf next to the fire-rat robe.

the next morning she opens the door to find mikado standing before her. he’s not dressed like a commoner like he was before, but in all the splendor that marks him as the emperor. a samurai stands at his back. “kaguya,” he says, “i am emperor mikado, and i have one last gift for you.”

her father steps outside, and she hears the sound of his knees hitting the ground. she wants to turn around and help him up, but finds she cannot move as mikado takes measured steps toward her. she doesn’t much care that he’s the emperor of this country – she is princess of the moon, after all – but she cares that he’s mikado, that the person who’s been leaving her gifts is the same smiling boy from the food stand.

he reaches into his sleeve and takes out a necklace of pearls and polished jade. “this was my grandmother’s, and hung from her neck more often than not,” he says softly, “she is the only dragon I have ever known.”

he places the necklace into her trembling hand. “i will not ask you today. i will return tomorrow morning at dawn, and ask you then. please, if nothing else, think about it. i do not know if I will make a good emperor, kaguya, but i am determined to be a good husband.”

she nods, and he moves to take his leave. his samurai does not follow him, and it’s only then that kaguya notices that the samurai is staring in shock at space behind her.

“suenori!” mikado calls out.

the samurai seems to come back to himself, and finally tears his eyes away. “coming, your majesty.”

she turns to see her father still on his knees, face pale and hands trembling. she falls beside him and takes his hands in her own, “oyaji, what’s wrong? are you hurt?” she presses her ear to his chest, but his heart beats just as strongly as it always has. she does not understand.

“that was him,” he says, staring past her.

she frowns, “the emperor?”

“no,” he answers, “the man he brought with him. that was my samurai.”

kaguya blinks, trying to remember the man that had been standing behind mikado. she’d barely glanced at him. “are you sure, oyaji? it’s been many years since you saw him last. who knows how he has changed.”

“that was him,” he says firmly, “i loved him with the whole of my heart until i found you, and then my heart grew so you could fit. when you truly love someone it does not matter what they look like or how much time has passed – you will know them anywhere.”

kaguya loves oyaji, and she wants him to be happy, so she knows what she has to do. “you must go after him,” she declares, standing and pulling him up with her.

“he was engaged when i saw him last, and we were young men then. i was a young man then, i was – i am old, kaguya. why would he want me as i am?” oyaji asks, something deeply, profoundly sad in him, and kagura’s heart breaks.

she has seen this sadness in him before, this wanting and this regret, but only through a lens, only through the stories she was told of a strong, handsome samurai who came to oyaji’s village. “you deserve to be happy,” she tells him, “i want you to be happy.”

“you make me happy,” he insists. “you are my daughter, and i love you.”

she says, “it’s not the same. go after him – i will be here when you return.”

he takes the pearl and jade necklace from her hands, “i am not the only one who now faces a difficult choice. he is not the first royal who has come seeking your hand. if you did not care for him, you would reject him outright, just like you did the others. you are not a woman who is swayed by promises of wealth, or status. you can only be moved by the promise of getting what it is you truly desire.”

“what is it that i truly desire?” she asks, trembling, because oyaji has always been able to see her for just who she is.

he undoes the clasp and gently pulls the necklace around her neck, settling it against her collarbones with careful fingers. “to be truly loved as you are. no more, and no less.” she closes her eyes and presses her forehead against oyaji’s because he is right, of course he is right, she desires precisely what every being in the universe does but won’t admit. he grabs her forearms and squeezes, “i will go after my samurai if you will think long and hard about the emperor’s offer. all i desire is your happiness. if the emperor will make you happy, then you should have him.”

“i will think on it,” she promises voice thick, and then pushes oyaji away and towards the direction of his samurai. “now go.”

he goes.

~

mikado has them stop on way back to the village and forces suenori to sit down, worried by how pale and lost he looks. “have you taken ill?” he asks, “should i fetch a doctor?”

suenori shakes his head, “no, your majesty. i just – i know that man, miss kaguya’s father.”

“i don’t understand,” he says, “why would you know a bamboo cutter?”

“because love is as necessary as water, and for years i have been without, i was dry and parched. and now,” he bows his head and clenches his hands into fists, “now i feel as if i am drowning.”

“both of those things kill you in the end,” mikado says, “you loved that man?”

“love,” he corrects, “when you love someone truly, you never stop.”

the emperor makes up his mind, “you must return, and attempt to win him back.”

suenori shakes his head, “no, i cannot. i could not fulfill the promise of my engagement to a lovely woman because i loved him too much, but – he has a daughter. he does not want me anymore, if he ever did.”

“suenori!” they look behind him, and kaguya’s father is running towards them.

his advisor’s face is slack with wonder, and mikado squeezes his shoulder before continuing on his way.

he is not the only one the deserves a chance at true love.

~

oyaji has used up all his courage chasing after him, and now that they’re standing in front of each other he can’t think of anything to say.

suenori swallows, then blurts, “i went to your village whenever i could, for years and years, but you were never there.”

“i left not long after you,” he confesses, eyes drinking in the sight of his lover from so long ago and his fingers itching to touch, “i couldn’t bear to be there any longer – there were too many trees we’d stood under, too many places you touched. i kept on imagining you would be there around every corner, and it was driving me mad.”

suenori takes a half step closer, and oyaji forgets to breath. “i never got married. i felt it would be dishonest to pledge my heart to a woman when is has belonged to you since the moment we met.”

he licks his lips and croaks, “kaguya is the daughter of my heart, but not my blood. you and her are the only people i’ve loved in my whole life.”

suenori is a strong man, a renowned samurai, someone who has endured pain and fear and loss with steadfast stoicism. but now he’s shaking, and oyaji finally bridges the gap between them. “we’ve wasted so much time,” he says, tears spilling from his eyes that he can’t stop, “we are old men, and we could have had a life together if we were not so foolish.”

“then let’s not waste any more time,” oyaji says, and tilts his head lower just enough so that he can kiss his samurai.

~

kaguya paces, and thinks, and paces some more. she loves mikado, if he were only a simple village boy then her answer would be easy. she would become his wife and invite him to move into her and oyaji’s home, or bring herself and her father to his. but he is not a simple village boy. he is the emperor to a nation, and that is a commitment she’s not sure she can bring herself to make.

but she loves him, and he loves her, and that may be enough. she’s witnessed her oyaji’s sorrow over the love he lost, how even at his happiest it still pained him, and she does not want that to be her fate.

decided, she leaves her home. mikado said he would return in the morning, but there’s no need to wait that long. kaguya has already made up her mind – she will accept his proposal, and become his bride and empress.

but as soon as she steps out of her home, she steps into a pool of moonlight. something she has done so many times before, yet this time it feels different, this time it feels as if the moon sees her.

“no,” she whispers, but it is too late. after so many years, they’ve finally found her.

royal soldiers fall from the sky and her parents, the king and queen of the moon, are there. “it is time to come home,” the king says, face as impassive and unmovable as stone.

kaguya’s hand itches for her blades, but she’s knows it’s pointless. “i do not wish to leave.”

“do not be selfish,” the king says, “you are the princess of the moon. you have responsibilities, and it is your duty to fulfill them. an eclipse is almost upon us – do you wish to see the moon swallowed whole by the dragon of the sun?”

her throat is tight and she cannot speak, but she shakes her head.

“then come home,” her mother says. “you are a princess, and must act accordingly.”

they’re not wrong. but kaguya did not ask to be a princess. she does not want to be the daughter of the king – she only wishes to be the daughter of a humble bamboo cutter, but this is not a choice she gets to make. “i want to bring my things with me.”

“very well,” her mother’s nose wrinkles at her home made of bamboo and rice paper, nothing like the great palaces of stone on the moon.

“i wish for a bottle of starlight elixir,” she says, heart hammering in her chest. this is a much bigger request.

but her mother only sighs like she always has, like she finds kaguya troublesome, and says, “very well.”

so kaguya goes back into the house, tears stinging her eyes, and packs up the kimonos and trinkets oyaji bought for her. she packs the gifts mikado had given her, except for the prayer bowl. that she leaves, along with a lock of her own hair. she writes a note telling oyaji that if he prays to the moon god tsukuyomi and thinks of her often, that if they burn her hair in this bowl at his death, she will know that his spirit is wandering, and she will come for him. for the remainder of this life they must be parted, but in the next kaguya swears they will be together once more. she leaves the elixir of starlight and a letter for mikado.

she takes a long look around her home, tries to commit the exact shade of the earth to memory, the sound of the river, the cool breeze on her face. “come along,” the king says, and kaguya reluctantly takes his hand and watches the earth get smaller and smaller below them.

~

oyaji mourns, and wonders if he’s cursed to always carry a terrible loss within him. it’s a bearable pain only because he always knew she came from the stars and that one day she would have to return. besides, when the time comes she will retrieve his spirit from the underworld and they will be together once more. he packs up all that matters to him, and follows suenori back to the capitol.

emperor mikado is inconsolable. the starlight elixir grants an unusually long life, and kaguya’s note had requested he drink it and live a fully, happy life, and that at night he looks up at the moon, thinking of her, because she will always be looking down at earth, thinking of him.

mikado cannot bring himself to drink it. a long life without kaguya by his side is a curse, not a gift. instead he gives it to oyaji and suenori. “now you have more time,” he tells them, “you can get the life together you thought you had lost.”

“we cannot take this,” oyaji insists, “my daughter intended it for you.”

“you must,” he says, voice catching, “because when i die i’m going to need people i can trust to follow my wishes. please – take this, live long happy lives together, and stay by my side all my life.”

suenori bows, “as my emperor commands.”

oyaji ignores all the rules of propriety and cups the emperor’s face to say, “you would have made a very good son-in-law.”

mikado graces him with one of his now-rare smiles. it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him.

so oyaji and suenori drink the starlight elixir, and gain years that used to be far behind their grasp. they live together and love each other, and relish in the decades they now have by the other’s side. mikado takes an empress, but not a bride. oyaji and suenori are with him his whole life, and on his death they fulfill the only request the emperor ever asked of them.

they take his body to the mountain closest to heaven, and burn it, so that his ashes may rise to the moon and he can be with his love once more.

it almost works.

but as smoke and ash he has no bones and muscles with which to move, and goes floating across the moon and then far beyond it.

~

princess kaguya is very different from how she was as a child. she’s quiet and polite and does her duties with the priestesses and smiles at the princes that come parading in front of her, although she never chooses one for her own. she prays to tsukuyomi, and when the moon and sun cross paths she erects a barrier strong enough to keep the whole moon safe from the harm promised by the sun dragon’s snapping jaws.

kaguya likes the moon much more than she used to as a child, is able to finally see its beauty and its strength. but it is not earth, it is not the place she lived on for so long, it does not contain the people she loves most, and so it is hard for her to call it home.

it’s been many years since she returned to the moon. her parents are aging and frail, and are waiting only for her to choose a husband before handing the kingdom to her. strange reports start coming in, first thought to be exaggerations or lies, but the more people who have claimed to see it with their own eyes, the less able they are to ignore it.

the great, angry dragon of the sun has been the only being of that star for as long as they can remember. it is a huge hulking thing that curls around its star and spits and snarls at anyone that dares go near it. it will burn and swallow anything or anyone that it can grasp. if any of them were capable of killing the dragon, they would, but they are not. no one is capable of even approaching the sun unprotected without their life being forfeit.

except now rumors are reaching their ears. there is another being on the sun, a shadowy figure who seems intent on taming the great beast.

that was on thing, but the most recent rumors say it has succeeded. the most recent rumors say that the dragon of the sun has been tamed, and now the shadowy figure rides on its back. the most recent rumors say the dragon of the sun and its shadowy rider are heading straight to the moon.

they hold council meetings, and argue, and can’t seem to decide what to do about it. finally the priestesses of tsukuyomi  offer a solution – they will forge a weapon strong enough to slay the sun dragon, and then a warrior will ride to meet the dragon and kill it.

after a week’s efforts, the head priestess comes forward and presents two shining swords, polished silver and bone. her parents are arguing over who will wield them, but kaguya sees them and she knows. “i will,” she says, standing from her thrown and picking them up. they’re cool to the touch and heavier that one would expect from a blade of their size, but they’re perfectly balanced. her parents are looking at her in shock, but she repeats, “i will.”

she may be the princess of the moon, but she is also a bamboo cutter’s daughter. she knows how to wield anything that has sharpened edges with deadly accuracy, so she will.

“you will never get close enough,” her mother says, “you shine brighter than any of our citizens, he will see you and smell you and know what you are long before you get close enough to kill him.”

she grips the swords, feeling the bone handles warm to her skin, “i will not be detected. i will wield these swords.”

her parents try to argue against it, but she does not listen. she returns to her room, and reverently opens the chest she keeps at the foot of her bed.

she takes out the sparrow nest of cowry shells and weaves the shells into her hair. the scent of the ocean clings to them, and will cover her own scent so the sun dragon won’t be able to smell her.

she takes out the red silk robe of the fire-rat and puts it on. it hides the tell-tale colors of the moon’s body armor she wears so that the sun dragon won’t think she’s anything but a falling red star.

she takes out the jeweled branch, ties it to her forearm, and hides it into the sleeve of her robe. when she gets close enough, she will use the jewels to reflect the sun dragon’s own light back at it so that it will not see her blades heading to its heart.

she takes her favorite hair comb that oyaji ever bought her – a delicate golden butterly – and settles it at the base of her ponytail. she does this because it reminds her of her father, and it will help her be strong just like him.

the necklace of pearls and jade is not in the chest. it is where it always is – hung around her neck, so that she can touch it often and think of her love back on earth.

lastly, she takes the two swords and slides them into the sheaths across back.

she’s ready.

they have a ship for her travel in, but kaguya is smarter than that. traveling in one would ruin all the hard work she’s put in to not be seen. instead she stands out in the field behind the palace and waits. a falling star passes her by and she calls out, “hello! could you help me?”

the falling star stutters, then stops, and turns back around. “what do you need, princess of the moon?” it asks, voice younger than kaguya was expecting.

“i’m looking for the sun dragon and his rider. could you take me to then?”

the falling star considers her for a long moment before saying, “yes, princess, i can. get on.”

kagura climbs on the star and holds on tight as it careens through space, adjusting itself just enough to bring her where she needs to go.

she feels the dragon of the sun before she sees it. space is cold, but the closer they get the hotter the air around her becomes, until beads of sweat start trailing down her spine. none of them have ever seen the dragon up close before, but when she does she can’t help but gasp.

it’s beautiful.

it blended into the sun so well that they were only ever able to see it’s monstrous outline, but now it only has the darkness of space surrounding it. it’s a gorgeous splash of red-orange, it’s long body twisting and turning and glittering from its own light that it gives off. its eyes are the brightest yellow kaguya has ever seen. it’s a work of art, and for a moment she mourns that she has to kill this beautiful creature.

but it would gobble up the whole moon if she let it, so she must not.

what happens next happens quickly. she can’t see the rider, so she urges the shooting star to fly closer to the dragon. she pushes up the sleeve of her robe so the light bounces of the jeweled branch, then reaches behind her to pull the twin swords from her back. she throws herself from the shooting star onto the sun dragon’s massive body, and leans back so she can slam forward and deliver the first blow against the creature.

but two hands push her off balance, and she flips so she lands on her back, swords up, ready to defend herself against whatever is on the dragon with her.

it’s the rider, a man made of smoke and ash, and she pushes herself to her feet and prepares to sever the smoke man’s head from his body. these swords are blessed by tsukuyomi, and will cut through anything, even things which aren’t meant to be cut.

the smoke man falls to his knees, and does not raise a hand to defend himself. kaguya hesitates, for no reason she can name. the smoke man has no mouth, and cannot speak, but she almost feels like she hears a voice anyway, a niggling thought in the back of her mind.

she’s poised above him, blades ready to kill, as they stand on the back of the glittering dragon of the sun. she’s able to kill them both, shadow rider and sun dragon, and rid the moon of it’s most fearsome enemies.

but she can’t move.

she looks at the kneeling figure of the man of smoke and ash, and her father’s voice speaks to her, a memory surfacing from just before she left the earth.

“when you truly love someone, it does not matter what they look like or how much time has passed – you will know them anywhere.”

it cannot be. it is an impossible thing, and yet – she is the princess of the moon, riding on the back of the sun dragon. there are many impossible things in the universe. kaguya makes a foolish decision, and drops her swords. “mikado?”

the man of smoke and ash reaches out a trembling hand and touches the edge of her robe. she lands too hard on her knees in front him, and he touches the jeweled branch on her arm, then the cowry shells strung into her hair. he reaches for his own wrist, and she notices he has thick grey twine wrapped around it. he undoes it, and a glowing gemstone is attached. he points behind her, and she looks.

there’s a missing scale just below the dragon’s massive head.

“a colored jewel from a dragon’s neck,” she says, and he presses it into her hands. she undoes the robe so he can see the necklace of pearls and jade he gave her so long ago. mikado holds her hands in his own and lays his head against her shoulder.

that’s how they sit the whole ride back to the moon.

~

warriors and priestesses are gathered, prepared to die fighting the dragon of the sun. but mikado has tamed the dragon, and it will not swallow the moon unless he bids it to.

kaguya brings mikado down to the moon, past the warriors and the priestesses, past her parents, and through the streets and her people. they shy away from his strange form, eyes filled with fear as the dragon of the sun circles the moon and turns its surface red with the light from its scales when it ventures too close.  

she pays them no mind. she goes to the palace and grabs the first servant she sees. “fill a bath with starlight elixir,” she demands.

“your highness?” the servant asks, looking past her to the man of smoke that’s clutching the end of her robe like a child.

“that’s an order,” she snaps, and the servant obeys.  

it will take over half their store of starlight elixir. she would not care if it took all of it. her parents come demanding answers, but she does not give them. they try to touch mikado, and she raises her swords against them and any of the warriors they send in their place. no one touches him.

a bath large enough for mikado has been drawn, filled to the brim with starlight elixir. she helps him into it, but he’s smoke, so he doesn’t displace any of the elixir. he sinks into it, and she waits.

hours turn into days. the warriors and her citizens beg her to something about the dragon encircling the moon, but she refuses. she says any to lay a hand against the dragon shall meet her blade, as will anyone who disturbs her from her vigil.

on the seventh day, something changes. the elixir shifts to clear water, all of it’s power used up. mikado emerges from the pool gasping, and he looks just as she remembers. he is back in his human form, although he is no longer a human man. kaguya pulls him from the bath into her arms, and mikado’s warm arms come around her waist and his damp breath is on his neck.

“i believe i owe you a question,” he says, pressing soft kisses onto her temple and cheekbones, any bit of her he can reach.

“i believe i owe you an answer,” she says, “yes,”

she tilts her head up so the next place he kisses is her mouth.

~

kaguya announces her engagement to the knight of the sun, the being who had tamed the sun dragon.

her parents are angry, but mikado has defeated their greatest enemy, has allowed peace between the people of the moon and dragon of the sun, and there is nothing they can say against him.

mikado tells her of her father and suenori, how they drank the starlight elixir, of how her father thought of her every day and would look up at the sky at night and speak to the moon in her absence. kaguya sends a falling star to earth with a message, and not long after a different falling star returns with two men riding on its back.

kaguya goes running into oyaji’s arms, and he’s laughing as he spins her and kisses her cheeks. “i’ve missed you so much, my beautiful daughter!” he cries, holding her back to look at her in all her splendor.

“not nearly as much as i have missed you, oyaji,” she argues. he touches the butterfly comb in her hair and smiles, heart full and free of sorrow for the first time in his life. he has his lover and his child, and there is nothing else in the universe that could make him so happy. suenori tries to bow to mikado, his former emperor, but mikado pulls him into a hug before he gets the chance, and he supposes this works as well.

kaguya moves her father and his husband into the palace. she marries mikado, the knight of the sun, in front of all her people, and they swear their life and love to each other in the temple of tsukuyomi. she is married, so her parents step down from their place. she is named queen of the moon, and mikado her prince-consort. oyaji and suenori are by her side when the heavy crown is placed atop her head.

she loves the moon as she should. she sees its beauty and it’s strengths, admires its citizens, and it now contains all the people she loves most in the world.

queen kaguya of the moon and the knight mikado of the sun live happily ever after.

[tennessoui]

*whispers* I’m probably way too late but if I’m not can I request 12 for the kiss prompts for Professor Obi-Wan and Student Anakin AU?

you're never too late until i lose the prompt sheet and have no idea what the number means! (that hasn't happened with kiss prompts yet so)

(the 1st Professor Obi-Wan & Biomed student!Anakin)(the 2nd one)

12. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

(3k) (a lil bit nsfw but not really)

Anakin's best friend from college is getting married three weeks after they graduate, and if Anakin doesn't stop walking around the house sighing longingly about how romantic a summer wedding is, how perfect it would be to go from one door closing to a new door opening in the form of a life of marriage with one's life partner, how in love the couple must be to marry so young, how wonderful it would be to have something sure and steady like marriage to your soulmate to cling to during such a grievous transition period, Obi-Wan is going to drink himself into an early grave.

Oh, no mention of the fact that they're not public about their relationship yet. To anyone. Because doing so would be putting their names and standings at risk--Obi-Wan, who could face backlash for sleeping with his undergraduate, ex-student, and Anakin who might be forced to delay his graduation and retake the class he took with Obi-Wan to make sure they'd been above board with their relationship.

(They had been, but only just. They'd really just been skimming the top of the board. Alright. They had been perhaps dipping a bit below board in some places, at some times. Below the belt, if you will.)

He's quite sure Anakin understands this all. And he's quite sure Anakin doesn't actually want him to propose, not when they're not even living together. Not when it's only been five months since they started dating.

Right?

...Right?

"Professor?"

He snaps out of his thoughts, remembering too late that he was in the middle of a conversation with his favorite graduate student. Only, she'd been talking about her summer wedding, and Obi-Wan had spiraled. Weddings, as of late, seem to be a sensitive topic for him.

"Yes, sorry, what?" He asks, rubbing a hand over his beard. "Late night, my apologies. You were saying...?"

Padmé thankfully laughs off his rudeness. Truly, his favorite graduate student. "You will come, right? To my wedding?"

"When is it?" he asks, even though he probably would be able to make it. During the summer, his schedule is never quite as busy as during the academic year. For obvious reasons.

"A few weeks after end of term," she reports. "I've been a bit stressed with planning it and finishing up my classes, but, you know, Rex, my fiancé, and Anakin have been a huge help. They've honestly planned more than I have which suits me just fine. I mean, I'd be alright with just a minister and witness, you know? It's the person that matters. It just turns out my person is a terrible romantic, and his best man is even worse. You know Anakin called me up today to complain about my wanting lavender napkins? At my wedding? He said if I wanted spring colors, I should have gotten married in March. The nerve! ...Professor?"

Obi-Wan stares at her.

What a funny coincidence that she knows another boy named Anakin. Who also loves weddings. And has a best friend named Rex.

What a funny coincidence that her wedding is close to the same date as the wedding Anakin has been insufferable about.

"Sorry, I got on a bit of a tangent. But it would mean the world to me if you would come, Obi-Wan. You're my favorite professor and have been since I was an undergrad! I mean, I'm sure you've heard that before, you probably inspire tons of students---"

Obi-Wan does not think about inspiring one particular student to deep throat his cock just this morning. He does not. He does not.

But he feels a little gross because he definitely does think about Anakin--a normal state of being for him these days--so he blurts out, "Of course I'll come to your wedding," just to get her to stop talking.

She smiles at him happily and Obi-Wan gets such a bad feeling about all of this that he has to excuse himself to go to his office and sit down with his head against the desk for a bit.

---

Anakin doesn't seem to think this is as big of a problem as Obi-Wan does. In fact, he seems to find it, somehow, romantic.

"I've never gone to a wedding with a date before!" He chirps when Obi-Wan informs him that apparently they've been invited to the same wedding.

Obi-Wan bites his tongue so as to not point out that of course he hasn't, as he is twenty-two. It wouldn't exactly reflect well on Obi-Wan.

"We won't be going as dates," Obi-Wan corrects gently, closing his eyes. Anakin's fingers stop petting his hair, which is just unacceptable enough that Obi-Wan peers up at him indignantly. What, just because Obi-Wan doesn't want to get fired and/or lose the respect of his favorite graduate student means he doesn't get head scratches? Cruel and unjust.

Anakin pouts down at him.

"I'll have graduated by then," he says. "We can tell our friends we're together."

Obi-Wan sits up regretfully. This probably isn't a conversation to have with his head in Anakin's lap. "I was...thinking...."

Anakin frowns now, and his legs curl up to the couch as he wraps his arms around them. "You can't break up with me when you just made me pet your head for, like, two hours."

"It was fifteen minutes--" Anakin's lip wobbles. Obi-Wan is dating a child. "And I'm not breaking up with you, sweetheart. I was just thinking, that perhaps we should...wait until after the summer."

"Why?" He makes it sound as if Obi-Wan has just asked him to draft an English essay due at midnight with at least ten citations used.

Obi-Wan touches his knee. "I was thinking...."

Anakin huffs. "I'm really starting to hate when you do that," he mutters, but at least he unfolds himself from his defensive position.

Obi-Wan relishes in how much Anakin is going to feel like an asshole in the next minute. "That maybe you could move in, for the summer at least. That we could see how we would, you know, make this work in a way that doesn't rely on leaving campus at separate times and illicit rendezvous in stairwells."

"You love the illicit rendezvous in stairwells," Anakin mutters right before he kisses him soft and sweet and like how he knows Obi-Wan likes best. "And of course I'll move in with you."

Obi-Wan doesn't fail to notice that Anakin doesn't add the same timeframe of for the summer, but he doesn't mention it again in favor of letting Anakin push him down onto the couch and crawl over him.

"I'm still excited about the wedding," he whispers between pressing increasingly heated kisses across Obi-Wan's face. "I haven't seen you in a suit before. I bet you'll be absolutely devastating."

His hands ruck up Obi-Wan's shirt, and Obi-Wan has heard enough talk about weddings to last him a lifetime so he kisses him quiet.

---

If Obi-Wan is devastating in his suit, then Anakin is obliverating. As part of the wedding party, he'd been forced to wear a lavender suit and the color compliments the blond tones in his hair and amber in his eyes quite nicely.

He's standing a bit crooked and Obi-Wan has to study the paper in his hand quite intensely when he realizes why. They'd fucked quite roughly last night before Obi-Wan had to send Anakin on his way, back to his apartment so he could get ready in the morning. It'd been the first time they'd parted since Anakin's graduation, and so maybe Obi-Wan had been a bit harsh, but Anakin had welcomed it.

Anyway.

Anakin in a suit. Absolutely eviscerating.

The worst part is it's quite clear everyone else thinks so too. If the maid of honor doesn't stop eyeing his partner up like a tasty snack, Obi-Wan is going to snap. And it's not like he can really blame her. Anakin looks perfect, amazing, gorgeous. And lover of romance that he is, he just looks so happy watching the ceremony go on.

He keeps mouthing the words along with both the minister and the couple. This too is catastrophic to Obi-Wan's sense of control.

A tiny little voice in the back of his head that sounds like Anakin whispers, look at him in his suit standing at the altar. He already knows all the words, wouldn't it be easy as anything to marry him?

Obi-Wan looks down at the paper in his head--a wedding bill with the names and the events of the ceremony printed on it--out of self-preservation.

When he looks back up at the altar, Anakin is staring straight at him as he mouths along with his friend's I do.

Obi-Wan's heart can't take this sort of thing, but he's also too weak of a man to force himself to look away from Anakin's eyes. Enchanting.

Devastating.

So unfair that they can't even talk to each other when the ceremony ends, Anakin too caught up in the wedding party coordination and Obi-Wan staying away out of respect for his own damn rule.

They take separate cars, of course, to the venue for the reception. It's...quite lonely, now. Being alone. Being without Anakin.

He finds himself twisting the empty skin around his ring finger as he waits in line to greet the newly weds and give him their congratulations. He shoves his hands in his pocket when he realizes what he's doing, hopefully before anyone can see the enormity of his desire.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé exclaims happily upon his arrival to the front of the queue. "I'm so happy you could make it!"

"Congratulations," he says as he turns his cheek to accept her kiss. She's flushed and dazzlingly beautiful. Her husband is a very lucky man, and the way he looks at her makes Obi-Wan think he knows it.

"This is Rex," Padmé introduces them and they shake hands. "And--oh, where is he? Oh! Anakin, come here for a second!"

Obi-Wan turns just in time to watch Anakin excuse himself from a conversation with the maid of honor, her hand dropping off his arm much to Obi-Wan's annoyance.

"This is Anakin, who I was telling you about," Padmé says expectantly, and Obi-Wan's eyes widen automatically when he realizes she's waiting for him to shake hands with Anakin.

Personally, Obi-Wan feels that if he touches Anakin's hands he's going to end up tearing his clothes off of him in the middle of this tent, but Anakin solves this problem by slipping his hands into his pockets.

"The man who doesn't like lavender," Obi-Wan says as if he hadn't kissed the word out of Anakin's laughing mouth the same day Padmé had told him.

"It's not a good color for a suit," Anakin mutters, kicking at the ground in front of him.

"I'd say you wear it quite nicely," Obi-Wan is saying before he even decides to speak. It's just that Anakin had looked so morose, as if he's not very nearly upstaging the bride at her own wedding. "You look stunning."

He hadn't meant to say that and from Anakin's shocked but pleased expression, Anakin hadn't been expecting to hear it.

Unfortunately, it seems to give him enough confidence to become devious. A spark lights up the embers of his eyes. "You know professor, we've actually met before. I had you for one of my classes."

Obi-Wan's mouth goes dry. "Oh? Interested in English, are you?"

"Circumstantially," his bastard of a partner says, licking his lips slightly. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Rex, the husband, interrupts.

"Oh my god, this is Professor Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan, who had quite forgotten the newlyweds were there, turns to blink at him. "Ah. Um. Yes. Have I taught you as well?"

"No sir," Rex says. "Not on my life. After hearing about how big your dick must be from this guy for three months, I decided to get my English credit filled with Professor Nu instead. What'd you call him, Anakin? Professor Can-Fuck-Me?"

Anakin is scarlet in the face. Obi-Wan is having the time of his life.

Apparently though, Padmé has more compassion than her husband or Obi-Wan, because she interrupts to say, "It would have been a conflict of interest anyway, I TA'd the class Rex would have taken with you."

Obi-Wan's fingers itch for several glasses of champagne, if not something stronger. "How very above board of you," he says faintly, carefully not looking at the man he'd fucked in his office during his office hours when he'd come with his essay under the guise of asking a question about a fucking oxford comma. "Well, I see I'm holding up the line, and no one really wants to talk about class over the summer. I'm sure I'll see you later, and really. Lovely ceremony."

He doesn't run away and hide, but he very nearly does. It takes Anakin two hours to find him, and when he does, it's out in the rose garden bordering the tent. Pretty secluded.

Thankfully, Anakin has brought champagne with him and he passes the glass to him silently, going to sit next to him on the stone bench.

"Wait a tick," Obi-Wan says, setting the glass down to shrug off his jacket and lay it down first. "Alright."

Anakin sits and immediately leans his head against his shoulder. It's nice, not being alone.

It's even nicer not being alone with Anakin.

"You know I seduced you, right?" Anakin says eventually.

Obi-Wan hums and takes a sip of his drink. "You know I had very little intention of letting you leave that office unkissed, right?" He parrots back.

Anakin sighs happily and squirms closer. "Wow, what a coincidence. I thought the same thing."

Impossible man.

"I know," Obi-Wan murmurs. "And I love you."

Anakin turns and kisses his cheek. "I love you too. A lot. Can't stand it sometimes, how much I love you. Can't stand having to be quiet about it."

Obi-Wan's chest hurts. He doesn't want to force Anakin to do anything he doesn't want to do, not even stay silent about their relationship. Anakin has already graduated. They can't do anything to him now. And as for Obi-Wan....

He loves Anakin more than job security. And it's not like they'd fire him for starting a consensual relationship with an adult after he wasn't his student anymore.

Alright. Mostly after he wasn't his student.

"Worth it though," Anakin whispers right when Obi-Wan has just decided to tell him to tell whoever he wants. "Worth it to make you happy."

It's such a sweet, perfect thing for this sweet perfect man to say, and Obi-Wan can't stop himself from setting his flute of champagne down and dragging Anakin into his arms for a kiss.

A kiss that's supposed to be sweet and perfect but is much harder and heavier from the start. Obi-Wan's been staring at Anakin all day without being allowed to touch and he's going to go insane with all his desire. He licks his mouth open greedily and fucks his tongue between Anakin's lips. The boy moans in surprise and drops his champagne flute into the garden of roses, clutching both hands into Obi-Wan's hair with another, higher moan.

"Fuck, An---"

"--akin? Anakin? Oh! Oh shit," the voice of the husband cries, and Anakin jumps off Obi-Wan's lap immediately to turn and look at his friend. His suit is rumpled from Obi-Wan's hands and his curls are messed up.

Obi-Wan doesn't feel anything about this at all. His cock twitches in his pants. Obi-Wan, who had to teach Anakin for a week after fucking him, has gotten very good at ignoring this.

"Toasts are about to begin," Rex says slowly, looking between Obi-Wan and Anakin and then down at the champagne. "I, uh. Can read your best man speech for you if you're a bit busy."

Obi-Wan flushes and Anakin hesitates like he might really decline the toast for a chance to kiss him again.

But then he clears his throat, digs in his pocket, and turns back to Obi-Wan with a sharpie he'd seen him using to mark seating charts earlier at the ceremony in hand. He tugs Obi-Wan's shirt-sleeve up to his elbow and bends his head down over his arm. Obi-Wan can't look at him and not kiss him again, but he can't exactly look at Rex either. Does Rex know? Does he suspect? It's over then, isn't it, the hiding. Rex will tell Padmé. Padmé will be deeply ashamed of Obi-Wan. The thought hurts, but Anakin is worth it. Anakin is worth everything.

Anakin is---the smartest boy in the world apparently, because he steps back and he's written his phone number on Obi-Wan's arm nice and big like a claim of ownership. An if lost, please call. A---

"I'm not your student anymore, professor," Anakin says loud enough for Rex to hear from where he's standing at the mouth of the rose garden. "Or a student at all. So. You should...you should call me, professor."

He sounds nervous and confident all in one, like a twenty-two year old who saw his former teacher crush at a party, got drunk and kissed him, and now wants to meet up sometime to do it again.

He does not sound like a twenty-two year old who has been sneaking around campus to fuck his teacher crush for months now and then just got caught by his best friend.

Anakin is brilliant and he's the love of Obi-Wan's goddamn life.

Rex and Anakin turn back to the tent and Obi-Wan rises to follow them.

"Professor Can-Fuck-Me, dude," Rex says in an undertone Obi-Wan can just pick out.

"Dude. I know," Anakin responds low and gleeful and achingly honest.

"You're gonna be married by autumn," Obi-Wan hears.

"I know," this time hopeful but still just as honest. Obi-Wan barely stifles a groan. Anakin is going to be insufferable if they don't marry by November now.

"If you and the professor get together after reconnecting at my wedding, I'm taking credit for it for the rest of our lives," Rex warns, and now it's Anakin's turn to groan.

Obi-Wan grins widely at his lover's distress, but it softens into a small smile upon hearing his response.

"It would be worth it," Anakin mutters, turning around as they enter the tent and giving Obi-Wan a wink. "What a story that would be."

Yeah, Obi-Wan is definitely going to let Anakin fuck him tonight if for no other reason than so Obi-Wan can just lie there and look at his beautiful, perfect liar.

Or, just as likely, bite at his pillow so he doesn't scream out a proposal on the spot.

What a story that would be.

[jacqcrisis]

Pairing: Charon/Hermes Rating: Explicit Summary: As much as Charon would like to stay in for the evening with Hermes, Nyx is expecting them at a charity dinner and he'd rather they not be on her shit list for missing it. Hermes, at the end of his rope after two weeks of them being too busy to do anything more than kiss and fall asleep in the same bed, concocts a plan to convince Charon to leave early and spend the rest of the night alone with him.

Or, at the very least, fuck him in the car. Whichever comes first.

-

A oneshot a year and a half after Watch the Tide Come In where Hermes spends a boring ass party teasing the fuck out of Charon and no one is happy about it expect the two of them. 

[hazardsoflove]

i have 2.2k words written for a steddie fic

[ehlihr]

Hi applying art anon and Elisar! Hope it's cool if I leave a recommendation. It's not Sheridan, but if you're school searching and haven't heard of this one, look up Max The Mutt College of Animation, Art, & Design! Three 4-year diploma programs: illustration, animation, and concept art. (You can find the specific classes they have for each program on their website.) I believe it's more expensive than other schools, but in my experience, it's very much worth it. Small class sizes, so you'll get more 1-on-1 time with your teachers, and they've all been incredibly nice and cool and good at teaching in my experience. If any of these programs are something you're interested in, I highly recommend looking at their website for more info!

i have never heard of this school since i decided early on to avoid private colleges/unis so i cant vouch for it but if youre interested in doing research on this college by all means!

[aastarions]

i'm so bad at writing short fics now it's not even funny

[nobisdumpsterfire]

Autumn nights 

Kazuha brain-rot bc I spent way too much time gathering primos for this man only to not get him and be sad about it 

anyways here’s another wip that I most definitely will not be doing anything else with 

[shadow-djinni]

two scenes left

[cloudshapedpatch]

take my money (take my heart, too)

the awkward julie & luke sugar daddy/baby au no one asked for

rated teen and up for swearing and semi-mature themes such as the concept of a sugar daddy/baby arrangement

no smut! insane tooth-rotting fluff tho

slow burn juke

and disaster lesbians flarrie side plot and (eventual) willex

also a coffee shop au because i said so

read on ao3 (chapter 1 and tag list below the cut)

* * * *

Julie is nervous. No, nervous is an understatement. Her knees bounce uncontrollably under the table, shaky fingers twirling the straw in her iced coffee. And the knot in her stomach seems to grow ever tighter.

She pulls out her phone to check the time for the third time this minute. How is it still 10:57 am? Just as she is about to put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzes with an incoming text from her best friend/roommate, Flynn.

Flynn: calm down

Julie smiles despite herself, turning around to look at her friend a few tables away. Thank goodness for her friend, willing to throw away a morning to make sure she is safe and comfortable on her blind date. She shoots Flynn a small smile. Flynn, to their credit, is taking their job very seriously, wearing an absurdly large sunhat and sunglasses, sipping on a mug of hot tea with a decoy book under her nose.

Julie turns to anxiously watch the baristas, moving around the small space with ease, mixing drinks hot and cold alike. Twirling around each other without even looking. And she lets her mind wander.

How had she gotten here? Waiting for a man whom she had never spoken to, let alone seen? And she isn’t counting their text messaging. Not really. Not even if they had been talking for weeks. Not even if they regularly stayed up well into the night just to keep talking to the other. Not even if he had her blushing furiously, toes curling from giddiness and hiding under her sheets, smiling at the flirtatious speech bubbles on her phone for longer than she’d like to admit.

Because that doesn’t count. She has never heard his voice. She has never seen what he looked like. Anyone could be a charmer, and she is undoubtedly nervous about who she might find walking through the door and towards her.

How had she gotten here? It is a simple question, and one she has the answer to. Doesn’t mean she likes it. She had made an offhand comment to Flynn at work one day. Julie is sick of working 12 hour days in the cafe (not this one. she would be dumb to meet a stranger in her workplace) and barely scraping by. She had joked she needed someone to fund her shopping sprees.

Flynn had suggested a sugar daddy.

Julie wants to bang her head on the table. Past Julie is an idiot. And now Present Julie is going to pay the price.

Why had she let Flynn convince her to download that dumb app?

(Because she has a virtually useless college degree, bills to pay, and school loans creeping up on her and she is cutting back every month. Living in L.A. isn’t cheap.

And, if she really lets herself think about it, Julie is lonely.)

She checks her phone again, pleased to find it is finally 11 am. He should be here any minute. Luke should be here any minute.

Is it a red flag that he had only been willing to share his first name? Should it have concerned her that he didn’t have a profile picture on his online dating account? Is she dumb for letting him change the subject every time she asked about his job? Solid ‘maybe’s to all of those, but! After they had started talking, they had instantly clicked. He loves music almost as much as she did, maybe even more. They bonded over that, and many other things.

This is fine.

She straightens her posture, glancing down at her dress to make sure all is in order. It’s baby blue with golden sunflowers all over, and she had slipped a cropped denim jacket on top, the one with patches of all her favorite bands. She fusses with the loose curls hanging by her face, her hair pulled into a half bun at the top of her head, leaving a clear view of her sunflower earrings. It’s the perfect outfit to be noticed in, she had told him she’d be wearing blue and sunflowers, certainly he wouldn’t miss her.

Whenever he decided to show up.

Wait. he would show up, wouldn’t he?

Of course he would.

...Right?

Before she can get too far down that rabbit hole, the chime above the door is jingling, and Julie has to fight hard not to turn and see who it is. The anticipation crawls up her spine and settles in her neck, jaw tingling.

A man comes in, approaching the counter with confidence in his step. One barista takes one look at him and gapes like a fish, turning to a coworker to nonchalantly point at him. Both girls look at each other and quietly squeal, letting one of the male cashiers help him.

Must be attractive, she thinks, and she isn’t disappointed by what she can see from the back. His sleeves are short, showing off his muscular arms and he’s tall. She’s always liked tall men.

Supposedly handsome stranger orders his drink and waits at the counter for it. One of the girls hands it to him with a gleeful smile. He accepts, then says something to her before the girl’s smile falters and points right at Julie.

Wait, she’s pointing at Julie?

Definitely handsome stranger follows her finger and lands on Julie, eyes scanning up and down her body (at least, what he can see from above the table), his face instantly lighting up in the most gorgeous smile she’s ever seen.

And then he’s turning back to say thank you and then making his way towards her and oh no what what what--

Because this isn’t her date. It can’t be, right? But Luke Patterson is stepping up to her booth, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Hey, you’re Julie, right?” His voice, sweet and thick as honey, and Julie would know that voice anywhere.

“Luke Patterson? You… you didn’t say--” She cuts herself off before she can say something foolish.

Because there is no way in hell she’d unknowingly put up her sugar baby services to Luke fucking Patterson. Not rockstar Luke Patterson. Not lead guitarist and singer and songwriter for her favorite band, Sunset Curve. Not literally in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame Luke Patterson.

“Yeah, about that… I am really sorry about not telling you. It’s just not something I like mentioning to everyone I meet, you know?”

She’s having a hard time processing what he’s saying. He’s so close. Why is he leaning on the table like that? Why is he so close?

“Yeah! Yeah, totally. That’s understandable.” She laughs nervously, taking a sip of her coffee to avoid speaking any further.

“This… this is okay, right? You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” This clears her mind a bit. She takes in the way his hands fiddle with the rings on his fingers, his shoulders raised, and while his smile is easygoing, his eyes say otherwise. Why would she be mad?

She expresses this to him, and he just looks at his hands.

“Well, because I wasn’t completely truthful with you. And I totally understand if you want to walk away.”

“No!” She says before she can filter herself. His eyebrows raise in amusement. “I mean, it’s fine! I was just… surprised, that’s all.”

And surprised is correct. Luke Patterson is the same Luke she’s been talking to for the last three weeks, the very same one who’s been making her laugh and who’d almost made her miss work last week because they had texted about everything and nothing until the sun came up.

He seems to like her answer. His smile never leaves his face.

“You seemed to recognize me. You a fan of Sunset Curve’s?”

And maybe it’s the way his cocky smile burns her cheeks, or just the fact that he’s talking to her. Panic sets in and she lies.

“Never heard of Sunset Swerve.”

“You knew my name.”

“You know it’s a household name, right?”

“Your jacket says otherwise.”

And shit. She had forgotten about the Sunset Curve patch right over her heart. In fact, it was the first patch she had put on the jacket. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Fine. You caught me. I’m a Curver. Happy?”

And though she’s teasing, he couldn’t seem to be happier. Seriously, she’s worried his dopey grin is gonna break his face. Then an ugly, ugly thought rears its head in her mind.

“Wait. You let me gush about Sunset Curve so many times and you didn’t say anything?” Her sentence ends in a laugh.

“Oh, Julie, I wanted to so bad. You have no idea!”

Julie finds herself not really registering the second half of his sentence. She had missed it, the first time he said her name due to being starstruck, and her face warms a bit when she recalls just how good her name had sounded when he said it. Like a splash of cool water on a hot day. Like sap dripping fresh from a tree, glinting in the sunlight.

“Then why didn’t you?”

He sobers a bit at this, though his eyes still hold the same fire as before. “Well, I didn’t really want to go around announcing that. Can you imagine how many matches I’d get if I put that little tidbit in my bio?”

Julie laughs at this, the absurdity of it hitting her. Of course. He’d want someone who’d like him for him, not for his status, or name, or fame or money.

Oh. Shit. She was literally here for his money.

“For sure! Must’ve been hard.”

“Oh, not really. I matched with you on day one and deleted the app once we exchanged phone numbers.”

“Really?” Julie felt a little guilty for still having the app on her phone now, even after she was pretty sure Luke was a good match. There was still the possibility that mystery man was a total creep. If she’d have known who he was, on the other hand…

“Totally! I’ll be honest, my bandmates put me up to this, but once we started talking I just knew I had to meet you.”

Julie’s mind still feels a bit foggy, like she was dreaming. A fantastic dream, might she add.

“I’ve been really excited to meet you too. My best friend also convinced me to get the app. She’s actually over there.” Julie smiled, nudging her head over towards her friend, where they were certainly trying their best to eavesdrop.

“Brought a plus one, I see?” Luke chuckled, giving Flynn a wave. Flynn hid her already shielded eyes from view with her book.

“Hey, you gotta remember I was meeting someone whom I had never seen before, and the fact that I didn’t know your last name was not helping.”

Luke’s smile turned bashful again. “Ah. She’s backup.”

“Yep! But I think they’re good to go.” Julie whipped out her phone and sent Flynn a quick message, relieving her of her duties.

“You sure? I might kidnap you.”

“I’d let you kidnap me.”

Oh god. She so did not say that.

He seemed to think it was funny. At least she was amusing. At her own expense, maybe, but amusing nonetheless.

Amusing to Luke Patterson.

If she doesn’t stop saying his last name, she’ll go insane. This is just the dorky guy she’s been talking to. The one she’ll hopefully get to talk to tomorrow.

Despite the rocky start, Julie would say it was a successful date. Coffee turned into lunch at a nearby bistro, and he walked Julie to her car a few blocks away. She didn’t get to her apartment until after 4 o’clock, and Flynn was waiting with two glasses of wine in their shared living room. Julie is eager to spill all the details, and Flynn is the perfect listener, oohing and ahhing at all the right moments.

As Julie crawls into bed after her eventful day, her phone dings on her nightstand.

PayPal: Luke Patterson sent you $500.00  “I had a great time today :) hope to see you again soon!”

Well. If she had calmed down any, this just undid all of her efforts. A wave of guilt floods over her. The concept of a sugar daddy sort of seemed too outlandish to really fathom. But now she feels awful taking his money.

She’s really doing this, isn’t she?

Julie: you really didn’t have to

Luke: but i wanted to

Luke: it’s ok tho right?

Julie: i guess it’s fine, it’s just a lot of money

Luke: i realise how conceited this is going to sound but its no sweat off my back. just think of it as a gift

Gifts. She could live with that.

* * * *

taglist! @ladyblanche :)

[oloreaa]

I mean, if you finish the chapter you could go get tea?

I could..... but it's getting late and I should study some more....... 😭

[punkpinkpower]

So, I've legitimately been prescribed "arts and crafts" by my therapist.

Why, you might ask? Well, according to my therapist, I've done everything I can over the last 10 years to prevent myself from spending time in my body.

And like, look, she's not wrong, but hey.

After my third major trauma happened, my body did what it could to protect me. I stopped singing. I stopped feeling a lot of things. I stopped breathing deeply because it hurt. And I did things that took me out of my body, distracted me from spending time there, like video games and work. Everything felt uncomfortable all the time. And while I tried to pretend that it hadn't happened and it hadn't ruined my life and everything I thought my life would be, I shut myself out of processing any of it in my body.

I don't really check in with my body or how much pain I'm in or how uncomfortable I am unless it's to extremes. I don't really... feel joy in my body. I don't exercise. I don't do much self care that isn't performative.

So as we've been discussing this, I've been trying a lot of things to get back into my body. Massage. Acupuncture. Guided somatic sessions. Reiki.

And while all of that has been very interesting (I'm a total acupuncture convert, he got rid of a headache one day in 3 minutes and it was like falling in love lol) it's also been pretty passive, where I let other people sort of manipulate my body and just try to be okay with feeling it.

So now. Now I've been told to partake in some more active stuff. Using my hands. Focusing on how I hold my neck. Feeling the sensations in my arms.

I started with kinetic sand cause I already had some and I did a slime kit which was Hella fun. And now I'm starting a cross stitch! Which was actually surprisingly easy to learn? It's nothing fancy but it's very peaceful. My cat got a real kick out of trying to steal the thread.

I don't know if art's and crafts are gonna heal me. But what I have found since I've been consciously trying to spend time in my body is that my trauma I've been holding in it is making itself known. I'm having crazy dreams and nightmares. Sometimes I wake up yelling. My energy is all over the place. I'm having a hard time making decisions about anything. And I'm feeling very insecure and needing pretty much constant reassurance from husband and all of my 3 friends that they love me.

But also... I'm writing again. I'm creating again. I'm falling asleep telling myself stories again. I'm dancing in the kitchen again. I'm listening to music I haven't listened to in years and humming along.

I think I'd locked so much of myself away inside me because feeling anything hurt. I was in so much pain that I had to shut down most of who I was to survive it.

So tonight I started cross stitching. I did two whole letters. I think I'll keep going tomorrow.

[smaragdine]

tubbos offline chat is so goddamn funny, i dont do anything in it, i basically people watch and its amazing

[thisstableground]

we have MADE IT to EDITING STAGE!!! can i get a round of applaud for the end being in sight. also this fic is stupid long

[hazelstar9696]

Fic- RWBY- Asking the Impossible Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: Robyn and Winter continue to be dumb and hormonal, May and Clover tag team making fun of Robyn and Fiona is under a lot of pressure.

[lesbianraskolnikov]

twitter art community is fun you have the nobody artists club where the actual small accounts are getting very little attention on their posts memanwhile people especially with 1000s of followers are calling themselves nobodies and getting way more traction...as if being presetablished or booster by popular artists is the main way this is going to work for small artists, like my self...

[sillus]

Hey so if you still doing it... ⭐ :3c

>:3c Spoilers for Blueblood and minor spoilers for Mannerisms

Blueblood has been on the back-burner for a long time. I’m talking before I posted anything to Ao3 (for the curious, very early July was the first time I posted). I never got around to writing it because I never really knew what to do with it. Sky and Legend are related, but instead of just going off of it, I was stuck and unsure of how to continue with it. So, I kept the idea around, but moved on to write other things.

Over time, I added more ideas to my famous List, and I realized that a couple of them could be combined into one story.

What really started this was Mannerisms. In Mannerisms, Legend demands offers to teach Wild how to fight better with a team so he doesn’t, ah... give his allies concussions hehe! That’s why Blueblood starts out with that sparring scene.

And from there, I grabbed a few more ideas from my list and I suddenly I had an outline. I think this is the most I have ever planned for any of my fics. I had this image of Sky and Legend sparring, I had the HC about Loftwings and how they might react to Sky’s blood-relatives and the idea of Sky and Legend being related came back full force, and to top it all off, I saw this and promptly requested that someone draw it with any of the Links--I didn’t care, I just wanted the fluff--and LARI OVER THERE drew the picture I added as an addition to the link to Blueblood on Ao3.

I wrote out my little outline for this story and sent it to my friend and I wanna say we spent close to a half hour just screaming “Sillus NOOOO!!!” “Sillus YEEESSSSS!!”

There were a bunch of times where I dropped everything I was doing and messaged my friend about new ideas I was getting for this story as I was already writing it. Two in particular are the Master Sword Talk and the Hyrule and Sky Code-Word scenes.

Writing the story itself was just... fun! There had been a lot of things I had just been itching to write and it felt so good to finally type the words down and see it physically there on my doc. I had only written Sky as more than a minor character once before (unless you wanna count Protector, then twice), so it was fun to explore his character again. It was also just funny to think about how Legend would react to knowing that he’s related to Sky. Especially considering that A) the Bully comic and B) I see Legend similar to Time in the way they view the Master Sword. While Legend doesn’t straight up hate the sword, I don’t think he’s a fan of it either.

That, and overly embarrassed Legend is always a blessing hehe!

The name Blueblood was suggested by the same friend I sent my outline to. I had him beta-read for me, and when I asked for a suggestion for the name, he gave me a couple names, and then Blueblood. At first, I wasn’t a fan mostly because I didn’t exactly get why he would suggest it, but then he told me that Blueblood means royalty, and considering the fact that I mention Sky and Legend’s blue eyes quite a bit, well... I couldn’t not do it.

The same friend also suggested the code-word to be Lightning Strikes Twice, as I originally just had Sky yelling “Hyrule now!”. This lead to the bonus scene at the end lol!

I could go on, but this is already stupid long, so I’m gonna call it quits here. Thanks for letting me ramble, Lad!