#the rest of my place is sunny and bright but you turn a corner and i sit you down across from this

[sarcoptid]

maybe it's better that i don't own a house bc i get decorating ideas like "what if i dedicated a wall in the sitting/dining room to paintings that make people uncomfortable"

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hi mira i’m going to rq for jjk (gojo specifically) :) kinda inspired by a fic idea of mine so if i see you post it maybe it’ll give me inspo to actually write too LOL — this is also a little long sorry, you can shorten as you wish 😓 maybe it’ll get the brain juices going idk

Y/N was really close to geto (i was thinking siblings but do whatever) and when he turned curse user and left, it made Y/N rethink why she was a sorcerer herself. she believed in geto’s ideals, but seeing his mindset 180 made her question if the same thing would happen to her since she was always weaker-minded than him. so she quit dropped out of the school and gojo never saw her since

skipping to the present, Y/N became a sorcerer again after having a conversation with geto some time before he died. with yuji being sukuna’s vessel, she goes to the school herself and sees gojo (their last convo was actually an argument leaving everything [him] behind). gojo’s just really stubborn, but he’s there when Y/N really needs him. from there they only keep encountering each other until they make up, their feelings are all out on the table, etc. etc.

── CHIAROSCURO

Synopsis: You don’t really know who you are without Suguru Geto. Satoru Gojo doesn’t know who he is without either of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo x Reader, Geto & Reader have something less than romantic but more than platonic going on

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: angst, mentions of death, flawed y/n character, major time skips, most plot events happen off screen, characters are probably ooc tbh i haven’t written for jjk in months

A/N: finally finished the first of the requests I’ve received so far!! it ended up being way more geto-centric than i had planned for it to be though i’m so sorry angel 😭 and it was also getting way too long so i decided to end it by just hinting the development of the rest of the story you mentioned LMAO i hope that’s okay 😫

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Most people grew up with one shadow, but according to your mother, you had lived your entire life with two. The first was the same as the one everyone had, that darkening of the ground in the shape of your figure. The second was the boy who lived next door — or, at least, that was what she told you.

His name was Suguru Geto, and despite his dark features and darker clothing, he had a perpetually sunny demeanor, always quick to offer you a gentle smile whenever you glanced his way. He was polite even when it wasn’t required of him, and though your mother teased you for it, you knew she was secretly grateful for his presence in your life.

The greatest thing Suguru had ever done for you, though, was not teach you manners. It was that he gave you someone to follow. Perhaps it was true that he was your shadow, but it was his in which you cowered when you were frightened, when the brightness of the world was too harsh for your eyes, which, when it came to cruelties and horrors, were as sensitive and new as a child’s.

Suguru was always happy to take on that role. He would stand in front of you, his shoulder blades pinching together as he puffed out his chest and rebuked whichever neighborhood child had dared to tease you. They all ran from him when he was like that, when his brow grew heavy over his eyes and the corners of his mouth twisted into a scowl.

Not you, though. You stayed behind his back, blinking owlishly at the way the others scurried, laughing along when Suguru likened them to mice with a click of his tongue.

Suguru didn’t like those who hurt the ones weaker than them, so you didn’t, either. Suguru thought that the role of the strong was to protect the frail, so you did, too. Whatever Suguru believed, you did as well, because what else was there for you? It was easier for you to hold onto his hand and press against his back, to allow him to tell you where to place your feet, so that there was never even a chance of you falling.

That was why it wasn’t a surprise that, upon Suguru being scouted as a sorcerer, you were extended the same invitation. It was a natural consequence — where he went, you followed, and so when he packed his things and went to Tokyo, it was both of your bags that he was carrying, while you peered around the train station and wondered what kind of place you were going to end up in.

Your new classmate was the one that picked the two of you up. He was tall — taller than even Suguru, though the majority of his body consisted of his legs — and had an unearthly appearance, with pale hair carefully mussed into a seemingly thoughtless style and black glasses which slid down the bridge of his nose to reveal eyes like diamonds.

He was the most brilliant thing you had ever seen. Lowering your eyes, you stepped back into Suguru’s shadow, earning you a scoff from your classmate and a worried exhale from your friend.

“Blech,” he said. “You’re supposed to be my classmate, really? How’re you going to keep up, huh? I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world, you know.”

“I think we’ll manage just fine,” Suguru said pleasantly, though there was an edge to his voice, his teeth like knives when he smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Satoru Gojo,” your classmate said, shaking Suguru’s hand firmly. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Suguru said. “And this is Y/N L/N.”

“Hi,” you said, swallowing even as you said it, pursing your lips and glancing around, wishing for some kind of escape. Gojo hummed and then poked you on the forehead.

“Aw,” he said when you did not visibly react beyond furrowing your brow. “I thought you might fall over or something.”

“I see,” you said. “Um. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go before our teacher gives us all detention for playing hooky.”

Unlike Suguru, Gojo didn’t allow you to follow him around. He made fun of you when you were scared and poked you on the forehead if you cringed away from his taunts. The latter occurred so frequently that you were surprised there was not a permanent indent in your skin.

“One day I’ll get you, pretty Y/N,” he’d always promise you. “Seriously! I mean, you barely have a backbone in the first place, so it’s really a wonder you’re standing at all.”

At first, Suguru used to demand he stop, but as the months went by, his protests grew weaker and weaker. You supposed that it must’ve been nice for him, to stand beside someone for once instead of constantly throwing himself in front of them. You could not blame him, but you found that you missed him more with every passing day.

But what was there to be done about it? After all, you were nothing compared to the two special grade sorcerers. You did what you could and found it was, for the most part, sufficient, but sufficient would never let you exist beside either of them in any way that mattered. So you fell behind, and this time, it was not a conscious choice but an unavoidable circumstance. This time, when you hung back, Suguru continued forward without you.

Empty-minded and weak-hearted. That was what your teacher called you. He sent you on the simplest missions he could, and still you struggled. Sometimes, this meant you would sit alone in the classroom until it was long past dusk, listening to your teacher ramble and shout.

“You are not weak!” he would say, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “By all rights, your technique is perfectly serviceable. You are not weak, Y/N L/N!”

“Yes, sir,” you would respond meekly.

“At least, you should not be,” he’d say. “Yet somehow, inexplicably, you are. Even a Grade 2 curse nearly got the better of you. Your classmates are exorcising special grades on their own! Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?”

Suguru, and sometimes Gojo, would wait outside of the door for you, lingering until they heard the shuffle of your feet, the soft sniffles which announced your arrival. Then Suguru would wrap a casual arm around your shoulders and tell you that it was fine if you were weak, just as long as he was around to protect you, and Gojo would do that infuriating thing where he’d poke you in the forehead and pretend like it was a miracle you hadn’t toppled over yet.

Otherwise, you did not see your classmates. Shoko Ieri was far too busy learning to do things you could never hope to accomplish in your lifetime, and Suguru and Gojo were called on to complete assignments with such unhealthy regularity that their education actually suffered for it. 

You never knew what they did on their missions. You never cared to ask, either. The details would only make you queasy, and in this new world where you were not permitted to shudder and seek out the safety that Suguru so willingly provided you with, you tried to avoid things like that. Harsh things, brilliant things, cruel things — all of them you ran from at an equal pace. Without Suguru there to defend you, you turned into one of those children he had so-despised in your youth. Always running. Always hiding. Always shying away from anything resembling a challenge.

It was after one such mission that Suguru returned differently. You knew he had changed because he crawled into your bed that night instead of his own, drew the blanket up around his shoulders and pressed his weeping eyes against your collarbones.

“It’s no good,” he said after the third time you had asked him what was the matter, your hands nervously skimming over his shoulders, smoothing over his rough hair. “Everything’s been ruined, Y/N. Or maybe it was always like this. Maybe you’re the only one who’s ever understood the world to begin with.”

The next morning, when his feet touched the ground and he slid out of your bed, you were hit with the strangest feeling that you would never see him again. Not in the way you were used to seeing him, anyways. Sitting up in your bed, leaning against your pillows, you watched as he left, though when he went to close the door behind him, you reached out your hand.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, raising his eyebrows.

“Is everything okay?” he said, his knuckles growing white from gripping the handle.

“I want to look at you,” you said. You knew without knowing that the instant the door shut between the two of you, you would lose him forever. Your best friend. Your shadow. You wished that there was a way you could reach out and save him, but the thought of you saving someone was outlandish. Impossible. Laughable. 

“Yeah?” he said. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and it did not reach his irises, but nevertheless, he somehow managed to muster up a smile. It was not gentle as much as it was exhausted, but still, he smiled as best he could at you. “Okay.”

You hugged one of the pillows to your chest. “I miss you a lot.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said.

“Not yet,” you said. “I think you will someday, though. You’ll go somewhere far away, and I won’t be able to follow you there. You won’t even want me to.”

“What kind of place is that?” he said. “I’ll always want you to follow me around, Y/N. As long as I’m there, not a corner on this planet could be a place I don’t want you to follow me to.”

The door creaked shut. You stared at the blank expanse and thought to yourself that he had always been very good at lying.

From that day forward, there were two opposite phenomena which occurred simultaneously. On the one hand, that blinding radiance of Gojo’s was magnified by the minute, and on the other, Suguru withdrew further and further into a grey sort of monotony that, try as you might, you could not pull him from.

“Gojo,” you said one day, tugging on his sleeve and flinching when he turned to look at you. As per usual, he pressed his finger into your forehead.

“Yikes,” he said. “Seems like you’re still lacking in the spinal department, dear Y/N. But just so you know, I’ve cheated off of your math homework enough times that you really shouldn’t be scared of me.”

“Please help Suguru,” you said.

“Eh?” Gojo said. “What do you mean? Help him with what, his math homework? I’ll just give him yours to copy as well, so why don’t you cut the middle man and show it to him yourself?”

“No, not with — just, he’s going away, and I don’t want him to, but he doesn’t — you’re the only one,” you stammered. 

It was even more difficult to speak with Gojo now than it had been when you had first come to school. That was because it was only recently that you were realizing that that way he made you feel, that shyness, that apprehension, was not because of his gleaming, sharp countenance, but rather something else, something soft in your heart that thudded to life whenever he smirked at you.

“You want me to take his mission for him?” Gojo said, his nose wrinkling. “What, so the two of you can go on a date or something? Forget about it.”

“What?” you said. “No, what — a date — that’s not what I meant!”

It was too late. Gojo was gone, and with him, your last chance at helping Suguru vanished, too. In fact, Gojo avoided you until you went home from the summer break, making a face whenever you glanced his way, and by the time you came back to start the next year, it was too late for anyone to do much of anything.

“Y/N L/N,” Masamichi Yaga said, entering the library where you were writing a paper for your literature class. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his cheeks a dark, flushed color, his teeth gritted together so hard that a muscle in his jaw twitched periodically. “Do you have a moment? It’s urgent.”

“I was just working on the essay that we were assigned, but it can wait,” you said agreeably, all too eager to give yourself a break from the work. Pushing aside your paper and pen, you stood up, massaging your wrist. “What is it, sir?”

“It’s, er…” His shoulders slumped. “I’m really sorry, Miss L/N.”

You tried to run through the list of things that he could be sorry for, but only one thing came to mind. You froze, your eyes widening. He had been on a mission, hadn’t he? 

“Suguru,” you breathed. “Is it — it’s not about Suguru, is it?”

“In a sense, it is,” Yaga said.

“Is he alright?” you said. “He has to be alright.”

“We believe his condition is fine, considering what he’s done,” Yaga said.

“‘What he’s done?’ Why are you being so vague? What’s going on, sir? Please say it plainly,” you said.

“It’s your parents, Miss L/N,” he said, spitting it out all at once like the phrase itself was poisoned. “They’re dead.”

Your stomach dropped. You had imagined so many things. In your nightmares, you saw your classmates dying, your teachers, even yourself. But never your parents. Your parents, who were so far removed from this awful world. Your parents, who only a month ago had sent you back to school with a pair of new shoes they had saved up to buy. You parents, who had never harmed anyone in their lives. What had they done that was so terrible it warranted such a sudden death? What were they being punished for?

“How — how did it happen?” you said. “Was it a curse?”

“Miss L/N…” Yaga said, his entire self deflating. “I’m really sorry.”

“What? Stop apologizing,” you said, tears gathering in your eyes. “Just tell me. Stop saying sorry and tell me!”

“It was most likely Suguru Geto,” he said, handing you a piece of paper. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the words. All residents of the village were killed. Jujutsu High investigated. Based on residuals…all 112…the work of Geto’s curse manipulation. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death.

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “No, why would he do that? My parents loved him, and he loved them, too! We grew up together, so why would he do that?”

“Based on the evidence, he most likely killed his own parents, too,” Yaga said. Your hands wound themselves in your hair as you tugged.

“That’s a lie,” you said. “Suguru isn’t like that. Suguru is good! Suguru looks out for those weaker than himself! He protects people, Yaga. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”

“Miss L/N—” he began, but you were already running, sprinting as fast as you could. There was no way. There was no way. There was no way. 

Your house and the one beside it — Suguru’s house, a voice in the back of your mind nagged you, that’s Suguru’s house — were blocked off with yellow caution tape. Dozens of police officers were milling about the scene, barking into handheld radios, conversing tensely. One of them noticed you and extended an arm to stop your approach.

“Stay back, ma’am. This is an active crime scene. No outsiders allowed until the investigation has been concluded,” the officer said.

“That’s my house,” you whispered. “Officer, that’s my house. Why are there so many people here? It’s not true, is it?”

The officer didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The pitying frown on his face told you everything you needed to hear. It was true. It was true. Your parents, your parents were dead, and that meant —

What had it been like for them? Had your mother welcomed him? When she opened the door for him, had her eyes crinkled at the corners in greeting? Had she offered him tea, as she usually did, because she was so fond of him and he was so fond of the drink when made by her hand? And what of your father? Had he reached over to clap Suguru on the back, or had he tried to grab him in an affectionate headlock so that he could mess up his hair with all the zeal of a man half his age?

You threw up. Some of the vomit splattered onto the officer’s shoes, causing him to fold his lips into a thin, disapproving line. Taking a step back, he reached over to pat you on the back as you heaved and hacked, trying to expel the knowledge from your mind and finding that you were entirely unable to.

You walked back to the train station in a trance, your eyes reddened and glazed over, your mouth sour from the taste of the stale crackers the officer had handed you, your hands shoved in your pockets as you tried to remember to breathe through your nose. The officer had offered to escort you to the station, but you had refused. You needed the time to think, and anyways, what did it matter? No ordinary person could hurt you, and no sorcerer would.

“I didn’t think you’d come back alone,” a soft voice said from behind you. You turned around, your insides roiling at the very sound, your ears ringing as you took in Suguru’s casual posture. His hands, too, were in his pockets, and the streetlights cast misshapen, dancing shadows over his face, the effect worsened by the odd tilt of his head.

He was refusing to look at you. That was why he was standing like that. He couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes, and that was the only confirmation you needed. 

“So what?” you said. “I did. Are you going to kill me next?”

“What?” he said. Briefly, he glanced up at you in alarm, and then, like he had remembered he didn’t deserve to feel betrayed by that kind of question, he slouched back down into the same apathy of earlier. “No.”

“Just do it,” you said. “Just do it, you fucking asshole! Why would — you — you killed my parents! You killed my parents, and now you’re just talking to me as if nothing happened? Why? Why would you…?”

His expression did not budge again. “They were filthy monkeys who deserved it.”

“Huh?” you said. The statement was so bizarre that, for a moment, your anger was forgotten. “What the fuck?”

“This world doesn’t need more non-sorcerers running around,” he said. “Every single curse you’ve ever fought, it’s their fault. Those idiots who don’t know how to control the meager amounts of cursed energy they have, they’re the ones who cause curses to manifest. You should be thanking me, Y/N. This’ll make your life that much easier.”

“Do you really think that's the case?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “With my entire heart, I think that it is.”

You had always, always followed Suguru. When he said to protect the weak, you did so. When he said to take care of others, you did that, too. Whatever he told you to believe, you believed. But how could you do that this time? How could you believe in the person who had murdered your parents?

“You killed my parents because of your stupid theory,” you said numbly. “You killed my parents. Suguru, you killed my parents.”

You didn’t care about the one hundred and twelve villagers. That was the most shameful thing: if it had just been that, then you might still have followed him. He could’ve convinced you — no. You could’ve convinced yourself that it was fine, that he really was looking out for you in that peculiar manner of his. It wouldn’t have been impossible. Even now, your resolve was so weak, and it was only the thought of your parents that allowed you to cling to it at all.

“They asked about you,” he said dully. “I let them. My own parents, I didn’t give them a chance to say anything, but yours…I let them ask. I guess you could consider it my last favor to you.”

The ringing grew louder. You pushed your palms against your ears in an effort to drown it out, but you couldn’t. If anything, it just grew louder and louder, more and more insistent. You couldn’t shake it off. You couldn’t make it go away, just like you couldn’t make Suguru’s words go away.

“It was the only thing they worried about. In their last moments, it wasn’t their own lives they begged for…it was yours,” he said, his gaze far away, his irises unreadable as he recalled that moment. “How strange is that?”

“Shut up,” you said.

“I told them you were okay,” he said.

“Shut up,” you repeated, though it was unsteady and unconvincing. “Shut up, shut up.”

“They were pretty happy about that,” he said, in a tone filled with dreamy recollection. “They didn’t fight much after I promised you’d be okay. What simple creatures they must have been, that even while dying they could only think to rejoice!”

You screamed. It was wordless and brittle, a symptom of your lungs’ collapse as you broke into sobs, fumbling in your purse for your phone. Suguru watched as you unsteadily punched in a number you had never bothered to save, not trying to stop you, maybe not seeing the point.

“Gojo,” you said when he picked up, before he could even say anything. “Gojo, please just — can you come get me? Please come get me.”

“Okay,” he said, to your surprise. He didn’t argue or call it a waste of time or point out that you were still bawling as you spoke. “Where are you? I can be there pretty soon if I steal one of the managers’ cars, I think.”

“By my house,” you said. Suguru did not move, showing you his hands, as if he was giving you permission to do what you wanted. It was your choice. If you just told Gojo that he was with you, then you had no doubt he’d be apprehended within minutes.

“I see,” he said. “I’ll be there as quickly as possible.”

You were the one who hung up, not him. You were the one who made the decision. You were the one who looked at Suguru and then turned your back to him so that, for once, he was the one behind you.

“I can’t reconcile it,” you said, using the ends of your sleeves to blot at your tears as you hiccuped. “I can’t understand it. Even after everything, I still want to follow you. I still want you to be my shadow. I still want to be yours.”

Don’t turn. Don’t turn. Don’t turn. You couldn’t turn around. If you turned around, then that meant your old teacher was right. Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. You could not turn around.

A dry breeze rustled through the leaves on the ground, sounding like footsteps against pavement. Don’t turn.

You turned. You should’ve known better than to expect anything different from yourself. You had never been someone who could stand in the front for very long. You would always turn. You would always run and cower and hide.

Anything you might’ve said died on your tongue as you saw he was already gone. You were alone. You had let him go. You had allowed that mass murderer, that criminal, to walk away from you. What kind of a sorcerer were you? Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. That sort, then. The horrible sort.

When the headlights of the car Gojo had borrowed swung around the corner, you had long since curled up on the grass, your cheek to the mud as you tried to grasp what you had done. 

“Hey,” Gojo said. “Y/N?”

He must’ve gotten out of the car at some point, because suddenly, he was crouching before you, pulling you to your feet, his limbs awkward and gangly as he cocked his head, still wearing those ridiculous sunglasses despite the darkness.

“I’m a piece of shit,” you said, and then you were clutching the collar of his uniform jacket. “Why am I like this?”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“He killed my parents,” you said. “He killed my parents, and I let him walk away.”

“Who?” Gojo said, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew who. You looked up at him miserably, and he shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “You let who walk away?”

“I don’t think he was planning on seeing me,” you said, letting go of his shirt and pleading with him to understand. “We weren’t supposed to meet.”

“You saw Suguru,” Gojo accused, and now it was his turn to take you by the shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle of your biceps, his eyes wild. “You saw him, and you didn’t tell me.”

Your lower lip trembled. “He killed my parents, Gojo.”

“That’s not true,” he said.

“It is,” you said. “It is, he told me it is, and I couldn’t even do anything when he said so.”

“Why?” Gojo hissed. “You only had to tell me! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t!” you said, and then you were crying again. “I couldn’t. Oh, they’re dead, and he killed them, he killed them, and they only asked about me when he did. Why am I the one who gets to live?”

His hands traveled from your arms to the nape of your neck, the heels of his palms pressing into your jaw as he tried to force you to look at him. But you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t, you hadn’t been able to before and you definitely couldn’t now.

“You know Suguru better than anyone. Don’t you think there’s something else at play?” Gojo said. He wasn’t asking for you. He was asking for himself. He wanted you to reassure him, tell him that it was alright, that his best friend wasn’t the monster you both knew he was. How was it fair? How could you be expected to reassure him?

You shoved him off of you. “No.”

“Then why’d you let him go?” Gojo said. “You must’ve thought that there was a reason, or else you would’ve told me. It’s the only explanation!”

“No, it’s not! The only explanation is that I’m shitty and weak and stupid, and I can’t help but rely on him. No matter what I do, I’ll rely on him! People like you don’t understand what it feels like. You can stand on your own, but I’m not like that!” you said, and then you were grabbing his hand — he always did that, you noticed, always turned his Infinity off for you even now that it was an automatic, constant process — unfurling his fingers and jabbing his index finger at your forehead. “Do you get it? You were right. I don’t have a spine. I don’t have one at all!”

“Pull yourself together, Y/N,” Gojo said. “He’s still out there. We just have to reach him before the others do, and then we can talk to him. If it’s the both of us, then he’ll listen. He’ll explain everything!”

“He already did,” you said. “You just don’t accept it, but that’s different than him not explaining at all.”

“So what, then? You’re just going to go back to the school and live your life as normal?” he said, scowling at you. “How could you even think of doing that? In what world does that make sense? You can’t go back and pretend like nothing happened!”

“It’s true. I can’t,” you said, because it was the fact you had been avoiding since the day you first set foot in the school, which you had always known in the back of your mind despite how you denied it. “I can’t go back at all. I can’t be a sorcerer.”

It was a rare thing to see Satoru Gojo speechless. If it were a lesser occasion, you might have laughed at the way his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together in such a foreign way.

“Why not?” he said. 

“I’m afraid I’ll follow him,” you said. “No, I know I will. If I stay, then I will definitely follow him.”

“You won’t,” Gojo said. “Follow me instead. Follow me if you have to, but you can’t leave. Not you, too.”

Another rarity: Satoru Gojo was afraid. Not of your absence, but of the changes it would bring. With Haibara gone, Suguru vanished, and then you…what would even become of the school? When so many pieces were taken away from it, could it even be considered the same place?

“I can’t end up like that,” you said. “I can’t even risk it. I became a sorcerer because of him; I’ll leave because of him, too. Anyways, you hate when I follow you. You prefer people who can stand on their own two feet. I know that about you now.”

“If you run away, I won’t forgive you for a long time,” he warned me. 

“Then don’t,” you said, stepping away, though still facing him. “What good is your forgiveness, anyways? It won’t bring my parents back. It won’t bring Suguru back. I don’t even want you to forgive me, Gojo. I want you to hate me until you die.”

It was the last time you saw him for so long that his memory blurred away at the edges. The way he said your name, the way his hair shone in the sun, the slope of his nose and curve of his neck…once, these were things you might’ve been able to list with a great degree of accuracy. Not anymore, though. Now, if you thought of him at all, it was only that final image of him, framed by the headlights of that still-running car. It was not your name he had called out as you walked away from him, but something bitterer, a promise said with such sincerity it was all but a Binding Vow.

“Ten years,” he had said. “That’s how long I’ll hate you for. Not my entire life. Not until I die. Just for the next ten years.”

Life as an ordinary person was easy. Life without Suguru was harder. But you learned. You learned, through the years, how to stand on your own two feet. You learned how to live with only one shadow instead of two. You learned how to let your eyes adjust to light, gradually instead of all at once, so that it was an easy progression and free of pain. 

There were times when you thought you had seen one or the other of the two who you had run from. There, across the street, was it Suguru reading the newspaper? Or in the bakery you walked past on your way to work, was it Gojo who was admiring the displays? They always vanished before you could grow close enough to ascertain their identities, though, remaining ever out of your grasp, existing as nothing more than phantoms in your periphery, refusing to let you forget the past entirely.

The first time you called Gojo was a year after you left the school. You weren’t expecting him to pick up, and when the automated message prompted you to leave a voicemail, you almost hung up in resignation. Something stopped you, though, and despite feeling entirely ridiculous, you cleared your throat.

“Ah, it’s Y/N. But I guess you probably knew that, considering you didn’t pick up. Well, I don’t have anything much to say, but I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing alright. I’m okay. The anniversary of my parents’ deaths is coming up, so I was planning on visiting their graves. I got a new job. Somewhere that I never would’ve expected to work when I was younger. It’s nice. I like my coworkers. They’re nothing compared to you, of course, but they’re fine enough. Anyways. Um. I guess that’s it. I don’t think you’ll call me back, but I just wanted to let you know I’m doing okay.”

It was a routine. Every year, on that day, you’d call him and leave him a voice message. He never once answered — you doubted he listened to the voicemails at all, either — but it soothed you to leave them, to leave one last connection to the world that had taken up so much of your life, and for so long.

More often than not, that time felt like a dream. If it weren’t for the thorned mourner’s bouquets which left pricks in your fingers or the ten calls you had made to Satoru Gojo, you wouldn’t have believed any of it had happened at all. Sorcery, curses, shadows and killers, best friends who betrayed you and boys you ran from, these were all things better suited to storybooks than real life. 

Your mother’s favorite flowers had been roses, and you always made sure to bring some with you when you visited your parents’ graves. Roses for her and white chrysanthemums for your father, who had never had a preference for any particular flowers but was so sentimental that he would weep at any blooms being set by his headstone.

The roses were the ones that made the pads of your fingertips bleed, leaving bright red drops the same shade as their petals on the tissues you brought with you. You’d set the bouquet down and wrap your fingers with the tissues, watching as blood seeped through the thin paper, and then, without fail, you’d cry.

“It’s been so long without you,” you said, when enough time had passed that you could not be considered anything but an adult despite feeling like little more than a child. “It’s been so long, and I still don’t know what to do. Mother, father, I am grown now, yet constantly I wish I could ask you for advice. What was that song you’d always hum when I was tired, father? How did you make that tea of yours, mother? When did you know you loved one another? And a million other, sillier things. If I could think of nothing more pressing, I’d ask you about the weather, the time, and your plans for the weekend. I’d bid you a good morning and a good night. I’d complain about the rain and my job. Just as long as it meant I could talk to you again.”

You could not help it. You wept, bloody tissues fluttering to the ground as you ground your fists into your eyes, trying to stem the flow of your tears. Your breath came in quick, short gasps, and you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes in an attempt to lull yourself into a state of calm. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the only thing you could do, but it was not enough.

Someone’s hand settled upon your shoulder, and it had been so long since you had felt even a semblance of physical affection that you did not immediately bat them away. Instead, your own hands fell to your sides, your head hanging as you watched the newcomer set a bouquet beside the one you had brought. Orchids and lilies. Lovely, pale things that contrasted sharply with the red of the roses next to them.

“You said in your voicemail that you’d be here at this time. I hope it’s okay that I came.”

It was Satoru Gojo. He no longer wore the sunglasses you remembered him to; instead, a black blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and forehead, causing his pale hair to stick up like he had been shocked. He did not quite smile when he noticed that you were looking at him, but something resembling that expression crossed his face.

“Gojo,” you said. “Why are you—?”

“It’s been long enough,” he said. “You’re a really hard person to hate, Y/N L/N. I did my best, but it was difficult. I hope that you know that.”

“So you’ve come to, what, tell me you forgive me?” you said. “Thanks, but I don’t need it. It’s as I said: your forgiveness means nothing.”

“Nah,” he said, and then he was grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’ve come to bring you back to sorcery with me.”

“What?” you said. “No. I quit.”

“You didn’t quit, you ran,” he reminded you.

“That’s the same thing,” you said. He grinned. It was the kind of grin that would’ve blinded you when you were younger, but you found that it was not so brilliant anymore. You found you liked it even more than you once had.

“Not in my books,” he said.

“Gojo, I’m not strong enough. I can lead a normal life without you and Suguru and the others, but if you throw me back into sorcery, I know I’ll cave,” you said. “I’ll turn back into that cowardly little girl I once was. I’ll seek out that shadow which I’ve spent so long learning to exist without.”

He sighed, and then he poked you in the forehead. “Not the case. See, you didn’t even waver this time! I think you finally did it, Y/N. You grew a spine.”

“Why do you want me to come back?” you said. “I’m not strong like you. I won’t give you anything you don’t already have.”

“It’s selfish,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you because it’s selfish, and you’ll laugh at me.”

“If you don’t tell me, then I won’t even consider it,” you said. Though his eyes were covered by the blindfold, you could sense him rolling them based solely on the way he pouted.

“I’ve spent the last ten years hating you for leaving us — for leaving me behind,” he said. “Everyone else was gone. I needed someone, but you left too, and then I really was alone. I want to drag you back into hell because I can’t face it by myself anymore.”

There were things left unsaid in that. Why you, for one? He could have anyone in the world, so why, after ten years, had he come to find you specifically? Why was it now that he could no longer bear the hell that was sorcery alone? But Gojo was not the sort who ever revealed his true self if he could help it, so you supposed those things would have to go unsaid for a little longer.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll come back, but I have a condition.”

“What is it?” he said.

“The next time I leave, or run away, or quit, don’t hate me for quite as long,” you said. “Don’t hate me at all. I know I told you that I want you to hate me until you die, but I don’t anymore.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” you said, in a direct mirror of your previous exchange.

“Okay,” he said. “Come on, then. Follow me.”

“Oh, that, too,” you said. “I won’t follow you. If that’s what you’re expecting, then you can forget about it. I cannot allow myself to follow anyone ever again. I cannot be that weak, or I’ll become someone I despise. Someone I don’t want to be, ever again.”

His expression morphed into one of shock, and then he did something so odd as to be beyond all rationality and logic. He beamed at you before patting you on the head. It wasn’t condescending; it was the kind of gesture that was like a promise, or a warning, depending on who you asked. Maybe in this case, it was both.

“It’s alright. Actually, it’s better if you don’t,” he said. “I like you more when you don’t follow anyone at all.”

[forlorn-crows]

All this talk of soft ghouls got me thinking some unwise thoughts...

Can we, the clamoring public, see some Sunny softness? One of her ghouls (gn) showing her how loved she is once everyone gets back from tour? Taking some time to spoil her and just feel some pleasure with her? Please can we see that from your skilled and talented brain?

hi mallll you know i love my sunny girl

whats better than one multi ghoul? two multi ghouls. swiss spending time with his multi girl to get you all warm and fuzzy wink wink

a little bit of slice of life, a little bit of porn. mostly banter, some makin' out and some frotting action.

transfemme sunshine, with cock/dick/balls to refer to her anatomy.

“There she is, little miss Sunshine,” Swiss beams, pulling her into a strong, warm hug. “Missed you, multi girl.”

Sunny giggles, bouncing on her heels and squeezing him tight. “Missed you so much, Swissy.”

He gives her a chaste kiss on the side of her face, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length. Just to look at her. Breathe in that bright clementine smell of hers that they’ve all gone without. 

He sighs, giving her a lopsided grin. “I’m sure Cir and Lus will wanna steal you away first,” he rumbles, smoothing his thumbs over her freckled upper arms. “But maybe we can catch up later. Just us. How’s that sound, bunny?”

Sunny grins right back at him, clapping her hands together softly. “Yes! I’d love that.”

“Perfect,” he says, leaning in to kiss her on the nose. He eyes the other air ghoulettes who are quickly approaching them. “Uh oh. Gotta dash before Cir bites a chunk outta me for stealing her girl,” he teases, mock-whispering against her temple. 

“You better,” Cirrus lilts, flicking the forked end of her tongue out at him with a playful hiss. 

Swiss raises his hands in mock surrender, taking two steps back. “All yours, ladies,” he assures with a wink. 

“Thank you,” Cumulus says, turning her nose up proudly and crossing her arms. It’s all show though, her face splitting into a grin a second later, dimples on full display. The two of them take Sunny arm-in-arm, predictably whisking her away from the rest of the group—but not before Cirrus lands a smack on Swiss’ ass with her tail on the way out. 

“Bye,” he chuckles, offering Sunny a little wave. 

“Hey!” Aurora calls out from across the courtyard where she’s been flinging the few remaining suitcases into manageable stacks. She’s hunched over a random equipment case, ushering the multi-ghoul over. “I need your muscles. Big boy ran off with the other lovebirds already, and Lucifer knows where Rain and Aeon are.” 

Swiss rolls his eyes. “Slackers. The lot of ‘em,” he jests. “I gotcha, sweetheart.”

—

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Swiss muses hours later, pulling on a lock of Sunshine’s hair to watch it spring back out of his grasp.

She pouts and wrinkles her nose. Furrowing her brow, she blows a stream of air perfectly upwards to put the curl back in its place. “Yes. But you’ve interrupted me to say so.”

“It was really important, bunny.”

She rolls her eyes, even with the grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “You don’t wanna hear the rest of the story?”

Swiss pulls her closer by the waist, melding their bodies together for the first time in a long while. “I do, sweetheart. But I’ve heard my fair share of griping and groaning about human taxes from Aether himself. Can’t blame a guy for getting distracted by other things.” 

Sunny snorts. She walks her fingers up his forearm, over the swell of his bicep, and over his shoulder to poke him in the cheek. “And what are you thinking about instead, hm?”

He snaps his teeth at her finger, smiling when she yelps and pulls her finger away with a giggle. Then he leans in close, holding her gaze. He runs the tip of his nose along her browline, sighing when that sweet scent of her flares at his proximity. 

“You, sweet thing. My beautiful bunny whom I’ve missed so dearly.” He nuzzles further into her with a raspy purr, squeezing into the space between her and the pillow and tucking his nose right into the crook of her neck. 

“Swissy,” she half laughs, half whines. 

“Come onnn,” he groans teasingly. “Lemme be sweet to you. Show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“You just wanna get in my pants, you fucker,” Sunshine says bluntly, all while lifting her chin to give him better access. 

“Now, who said that?” he says at length. Swiss presses a kiss to her skin, smoothing his hand up and down her back. He inhales her scent again, ripe citrus and warm honey. “Fuck, baby, it’s been too long,”

She hums, coaxing him out from the crook of her neck. She holds the side of his face, smiling sweetly. “So dramatic,” she whispers before closing the distance to kiss him.

Swiss rumbles happily, tasting her slowly, softly. Though the sun is dipping below the horizon just beyond the hills outside, neither of them are in a rush. He cups her face in return, his fingers curving along her jaw. Not pulling or gripping. Just holding, caressing. 

Their lips meet and part, then meet again, over and over in chaste little touches that are paired with sighs and pleased chirps. An easy pace full of affection and mutual appreciation. 

“Missed havin’ you in my arms, bunny,” he mutters against her lips after what feels like ages. He gives her a tight squeeze, migrating back to her jawline.

“What, Rora didn’t keep you busy?” Sunny snorts without malice. 

Swiss huffs a laugh. “‘Course she did, that insatiable little thing.” He slips his hands down to her ass, kneading softly and pulling her as close as she can get. “But she’s not you, is she?”

Sunny hums. Rolls her hips against his very obvious bulge. “No, but I bet she looked real nice from the floor,” she grins.

He lets out a real laugh this time, pulling back to look at her. “Oh, you would know, wouldn’t you?” 

Sunny gets right back up in his face, nipping him on his kiss-swollen bottom lip. “What’s it to ya, Swissy?” she challenges.

He scoffs, eyebrows raising at her. “Oh, she wants to play games, does she?” he asks with a playful growl, bullying her onto her back. “Guess it’s time to bring out the big guns.”

Sunshine catches the glint in his eyes and the way his fingers twitch at his side as he straddles her. She narrows her eyes, realizing too late that she’s now trapped beneath him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Swiss gives her his signature frightening smile, all teeth.  “Oh, wouldn’t I?”

It’s all the warning she gets before he descends on her, fingers fluttering along all her ticklish spots—the middle of her ribs, the crease of her hips, her armpits, the divots of her collarbone. She swats at him helplessly, caught between shrieking and laughing uncontrollably. He’s always too fast, dodging and dislodging her hands to go from one spot to the other, pinning her down with strong legs despite how hard she tries to buck him off. 

“Swis-suhhh,” she whines, gasping for breath. “Lucif—hah-have mercy.”

Swiss smirks, ceasing his torment. He puts his hands on his hips, grinning smugly at the ghoulette still pinned beneath him. “Mercy granted.”

She sucks in a deep lungful of air, groaning on the exhale and scrubbing her face with her hands. She tries to twist out from underneath his thighs, groaning louder when her pelvis grinds against his. Her face quickly blooms with a rosy hue as she peeks at him through her fingers. 

“Uh oh,” Swiss lilts. He rocks his hips against hers, chuckling when she lets out a breathy moan. “What’s this, bunny?”

She swallows, attempting to catch her breath. “You know what.”

“Every time,” he laughs to himself. He drops down onto his hands, tail whipping behind him as he boxes her in with a hungry gaze. Licking over his fangs as he admires the way her freckles stand out against her blush. 

“What will I do with you, sweetheart?”

Sunshine reaches up to grip the hem of his t-shirt, twisting it between her fingers and tugging slightly. She bites her lip. Looks up at him with her big, amber eyes. “Kiss me?” Her eyes drop down to his chest, exposed a little now with her pulling on his shirt. “Make me feel good. Please?”

Swiss trills and melts himself against her. Guiding her hands to wrap around his waist as he tucks his forearms under her head. He presses a kiss to her forehead and ruts against her, sighing into her curls and sinking further into her infernal warmth. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Swiss promises, dipping down to kiss her deeply. 

Where it was lazy before—chaste pecks and delicate touches—the pace is heated now: tongues exchanged, hands roaming, and hips rolled unabashedly against each other. Taking one another in like stifled flames no longer deprived of oxygen, drinking each other down like parched earth after a drought. Greedy, but relishing in it at the same time.

Sunshine claws at the back of his shirt, wriggling beneath him until she can wrap her legs around his hips. She groans when he slots between her legs, Swiss’ dick hot and hard against her own even through the layers of fabric between them. 

“Fuck,” she gasps against his lips. 

“Yeah,” he groans back. “So hard for me. Wanna get my hands around you.” 

Sunny nods, quick little movements of her head that rub her nose against his cheek. “Together,” she begs breathlessly. “Your dick against mine.”

Swiss groans louder, already pulling away from her to strip his clothes. “Fuck, that’s hot, bunny.”

The ghoulette all but yanks off her pants and underwear in one fell swoop, kicking them off and wrenching her crop top over her head simultaneously in an awkward flailing of limbs. She exhales triumphantly when she’s bare to the world, grinning up at Swiss with that crimson blush still on her cheeks and a cute leaking stiffy between her thighs. 

“Multi girl, you are something else,” Swiss says affectionately. With another shimmy of his hips he’s bare too, slinking back to lie side by side as before. He twines their legs together and pulls her right back into a hungry kiss, all tongue and fang. 

“Touch me,” she moans against his mouth. Pawing at his bicep until his hand moves from the curve of her back. 

Swiss wraps his hand around them both without further preamble, huffing a grunt as her length snuggles up to the underside of his. Likewise, she can’t contain her keening sigh as she bucks into his fist. Writhing atop the sheets and begging him sweetly in nonsensical syllables. 

“Just like that, baby,” he rumbles. He latches onto her neck, sucking a bruise into her heated skin. Warm tongue matching the pace of his hand. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

“Shit, Swiss,” Sunny whimpers. “So good—fuck—I love you so much.” 

“Love you so much, sweetheart,” he purrs into her skin. He tilts his head up, dipping his hand further down to brush against her tight little balls as he presses his lips against her ear. He smiles when she whines and gives her a squeeze. 

“Lemme show you how much I do.”

[aceghosts]

Baby, All I Want Is You

Summary:

“You have that look again.” “What look?” He asks, shooting them a charming smile. “The one where you’re planning something.”

A short scene where Rooney and Yorinobu flirt with each other. Title comes from nightlife's nightlifetypebeat.

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive flirting between two exes who have it bad for each other. That's it.

Words: 1,377 words.

Author's Note: I'm gonna keep it real with everybody; this was just a self-indulgent excuse to write Rooney and Yorinobu flirting with each other. Also, this was inspired by this tumblr post.

Taglist (opt in/out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @carlosoliveiraa, @nightbloodbix, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @clicheantagonist, @strangefable, @theelderhazelnut, @voidika, @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92, @direwombat

AO3

“How do I look?” Yorinobu asks, stepping out of the bathroom and into the main area of the penthouse suite. While a genuine question, he could not resist the desire to show off to Rooney, to have their focus solely on him. He turns toward them, Rooney leaning against the wall nearest the bathroom door. They push off the wall, facing him as they put their hands on their hips. Rooney tilts their head, brows furrowed with an inquisitive look in their eyes as they look him over. Most would assume Rooney’s permanent frown meant they detested his outfit. Yorinobu knows them too well to believe that; he delights in reading them better than anyone else. (His favorite expression is when Rooney smiles softly, happiness reaching their eyes, a look typically reserved for him.) Yorinobu teases with a slightly cocky tone, “If you are too horrified to answer, perhaps I should-.”

“Your collar,” Their hands leave their hips as they walk over to him, “I’ll fix it for you.”

He nods, Rooney’s hands coming up to his lavender shirt collar to fix it. As they focus, Yorinobu studies their face carefully. Rooney’s dark blue eyes the same color as the ocean on a bright sunny day or a stormy night, depending on their mood. Their freckles dappled across their face like stars shining brightly in the night sky.  The scars on their forehead and nose, earned from hard-won battles, defiant till the end. Their pale pink lips set in a thin line, close enough for him to kiss. Rooney’s hands move to his suit jacket collar, their touch faint through the dark maroon fabric. Giving him a curious look, Rooney states suspiciously, “You have that look again.”    “What look?” He asks, shooting them a charming smile. 

“The one where you’re planning something.”

“I might be planning something,” Yorinobu shrugs, as Rooney’s hands move down to the lapel of his jacket. He shivers underneath their touch, relishing in it.  With a heavy sigh, Yorinobu starts, “It is such a shame I am going to this party alone. I wish I had-.”

“No,” Rooney replies, a response that would sound curt and brutal to most. Only Yorinobu notices the way the corners of their mouth twitch upward, the playfulness in their eyes. 

“I did not ask you to accompany me, and yet, you turn me down?” Yorinobu places his hands on their waist.

“Then ask.”

“Rooney Shepard,” Yorinobu starts, deeply serious, “Would you accompany me as my date to this party?”

“Hmm…,” They start, tilting their head for a second as they pretend to think before answering with a smirk, “No.” 

“No?”

“You know how much I hate those parties. You’re the only reason I ever tolerated going.” True. Rooney always hated them, sucking it up for Yorinobu when they were dating. He also knew that Rooney looked forward to the night being over, especially when they got Yorinobu all to themself. “I’m also not dressed for the event. I doubt private investigator chic meets the dress code,” Rooney adds, finishing fixing his jacket lapels. 

“I think you look gorgeous in ‘private investigator chic’,” Their hands rest on his chest as Yorinobu leans in closer, “especially when you wear leather like you are now.” The tight leather pants made their legs look so long and their ass look fantastic. There was only one place better he could think that those pants belonged, besides on Rooney. 

Rooney rolls their eyes, a faint red on their cheeks. “Yorinobu, no one will approve of clothes that I’ve had blood cleaned out of, and you only approve because you think I look hot.”     “Their loss.”

Rooney lets out a genuine laugh, a delightful sound. Sidestepping his comment, they reply, “To answer your original question, you look very handsome.”

“Handsome?” In a perfect world, Rooney would tell him he is handsome all the time, but alas, Yorinobu will take it where he can.   “You’ve always looked great in that shade of maroon, and,” They brush off his shoulders, eyes looking over his chest and arms, “That jacket fits you really well. Really, really well.” Apparently, Yorinobu is not the only one who has been looking, and it thrills him. “I’m sure all eyes will be on you.”

“What if I do not care for their eyes on me? What if I want you to look at me? What if I think you are the only one who matters?” A loaded question that he knows Rooney will attempt to sidestep.

“Yori.” Their nickname for him slips out, another sign that his feelings are not one-sided, no matter how much Rooney might try to deny it.  “You don’t need me to flatter your ego. I’m sure you’ll get enough of that tonight.” They pull away from him, slipping out of his grasp once again.  “You should get going. Want me to walk you to the AV?”

He nods, noticing the soft, adoring look they give him.  “I would appreciate it. May I help you with your coat?”

“Yes, please.” He picks up the dark blue and black coat, the one they were so fond of wearing. Yorinobu helps them into the jacket, allowing Rooney to get fully settled. “You should come with me,” He says, leaning in close, “No one will even think about admonishing you for the dress code if you are by my side. Or we could stop somewhere for you to get appropriate formal wear. I could even help you pick your outfit out.”

Rooney shivers, a contented hum escaping from their lips. “Answer is still no,” they pull away, holding out their arm for him to take, “Come on, Yori. Let’s get you to that party.”

He takes their arm, Rooney by his side feeling so natural and right. As the pair head up the stairs, Yorinobu asks, “What would it take for you to say yes? If you asked, I would make it so.”   “Yori, you know I don’t want anything from you. Just getting to be in your company is enough.” Some things never change. Rooney was still sentimental, content to be in his space and spend quality time with him. “I guess you could get me to come for work, but-,” Rooney gives him a knowing look, “I can’t go with you tonight for work.”

“Why not?”

“Promised Reggie, one of the local fixers in Watson, that I would do a stakeout for her. And, I like Reggie. She’s a good person, a little paranoid.”

“One might say that about you.” They roll their eyes in amusement, this time. The doors to the AV pad slide open, Rooney stepping through the doorway with him, “I will have to ask you to go with me as a work obligation next time.”

“Or,” Rooney stresses, accompanying him up the stairs, “You could ask me as a friend. I might be your ex, but I’m still your friend.”

“Friends.” Yorinobu can work with that. He would prefer the title of ‘partner’ or ‘lover’, but being their friend is better than being their ex. 

Rooney nods as the duo step onto the AV pad. One of his assistants comes up to him, Aria, holopad in hand. “Yorinobu-sama, Shepard,” she greets them both, “We need to leave.”

“One moment, please,” He replies, dismissing her. Turning to Rooney, he opens his mouth to speak. 

“I’ll see you later,” They say, giving him an encouraging smile, “Don’t worry. You’ve got this.” Their smile morphs into a devious smirk, sending a shiver of pleasure through him. Leaning in close, Rooney teases, only loud enough for him to hear, “And if I was your date, I don’t think we would make it to the party.” He sees a hungry look in their eyes, their need for him just as strong as his for them.

Fuck the party. Fuck their stakeout. He is staying here with them and-. “Enjoy your party,” They purr, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Yorinobu reaches out for their wrists, attempting to pull them back in. Rooney masterfully sidesteps him, winking at him. They turn their back to Yorinobu, walking away before he can get another chance.

Yorinobu swallows, a lump in his throat. Oh, this was going to be a long night. 

[theriverspath]

Ineffable May 2024, Day 6: Apology

Rated General Audience

“Look, I’m sorry. Whatever it is that I did, I apologize for it. Now, can we please go?” Crowley depressed the accelerator with his foot, but the Bentley maintained its sedate speed. Unprompted, music began to play from the speakers. Muted trumpets and wispy strings evoked a time not very long past when people gathered in clubs to enjoy a night of elegance and champagne.

“Oh, this is lovely.” Aziraphale’s expression turned to one of wistful nostalgia. “We should go out dancing, Crowley. You’d look quite svelte in one of those long dresses with the feathers on the bottom hem. And it would give me an excuse to break out my old tuxedo. I haven’t worn that in yonks.” Crowley’s only response was another attempt with the uncooperative pedal. Aziraphale sighed and shook his head.

“What if you made a promise to not repeat the offending behavior in the future? Perhaps that would do the trick.” The grumble coming from the back of Crowley’s throat told Azirphale just what the demon thought of his suggestion.

“I can’t have the Bentley going all soft every time you drive it. This is a precision machine designed to outpace anything else on the road, not some land yacht. I have a reputation to maintain, you know… ngk.” That last strangled sound was brought on by the sunny yellow slowly beginning to creep its way up the Bentley’s bonnet.

“Ok, ok! Whenever the angel drives you, you can go whatever speed you like.” The yellow halted, but didn’t retreat. Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and gave Crowley a knowing look. He could tell by the movement of Crowley’s head that he’d rolled his eyes behind his dark glasses. “And play whatever music you both want. And be as bright as a banana popsicle if that’s what makes you two so happy. I won’t even make a fuss. No more interrupting your ‘quality time’ together. I promise.”

The Bentley’s engine roared as it shot forward along the open road, paying no mind to the lines painted down the middle. Wind seemed to whip the yellow away, leaving only midnight black. The music remained the same, but Crowley’s grin indicated that he was satisfied with the current changes. He must have noticed Aziraphale brace his hand on the door because he guided the car back into the correct lane.

“So. Feathers, huh?” Aziraphale seemed to relax as the Bentley ceased swerving, and he lowered his hand back to his lap. He glanced over at Crowley’s question. A half-smile played at the corner of his lips.

“Only if you’d enjoy wearing something like that, of course. I didn’t mean to presume…” Aziraphale stopped when Crowley lifted a hand from the steering wheel to wave it in a dismissive gesture.

“No, no. It’s alright. I’m pretty sure I can come up with something appropriate. How does this Saturday night sound?” Aziraphale’s answering smile lit the interior of the Bentley’s cab. As he excitedly told Crowley all about this little place he’d been dying to visit, the demon rested that same hand on the angel’s knee. It stayed there for the remainder of the drive.

-----

Want to play along? Check out the prompt list from @blairamok.

[marvelmusing]

Days in the Sun

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x GN!Reader

Summary: On a warm summer day, you sit on the lawn of the Little Palace with your friends, and become distracted by the sight of the General.

My Masterlist

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The sun casts a comfortable glow over your skin as you run your fingers through the neatly trimmed grass beneath you. Genya had offered you a place next to her on the picnic blanket, but you’ve always loved sitting in the grass on a sunny day. It reminded you of summers in Keramzin, when there was enough daylight for you to spend nearly the entire day outside and avoid the rest of the orphanage.

Nadia turns the page of her book, her brows crinkled with confusion as she reads the words in front of her. She asks a question and Marie attempts to answer her. Nadia has her Advanced Grisha History test coming up, and History has never been a strong point for either of the girls. You can’t suppress the fond smile on your face as they mix up a variety of different events and dates.

Genya lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, and glances over the lawn of the Little Palace to look at the small group attempting to clear some of the trees and bushes near the entrance.

Her eyes are mostly focused on David, as he attempts to explain to Ivan how to use the new garden blades he had designed. With the increasing heat, and the steadily rising afternoon sun, the majority of those working on the gardens have abandoned their keftas in a few small piles dotted around.

A bright smile fills your features as you spot Fedoyr jogging over to you. He’s not wearing his kefta, and his once white shirt is now covered in several smudges of dirt and grass stains. He even has a leaf stuck in his hair.

Fedoyr flops dramatically onto the ground beside you with a heaving sigh. He rests his head in your lap, as the girls around you chorus their greetings to him.

“Having fun?” You ask him with a smile, which he returns with his usual cheery expression.

“A lot more now.” He remarks, lifting his head up to look back across the lawn. You follow his gaze, and see Ivan wiping the sweat from his brow as he talks with David. Ivan’s frown is deeper than usual, so he’s no doubt confused by David’s explanations, which brings a smile to your face.

“Not that I’m eyeing your husband, but I see your point.” You tease with a small laugh, to which Fedoyr grins up at you.

You pick the leaf out of his hair, and Genya asks him how the work is progressing.

“It’s going well so far. It was good of the General to help us out.”

You lift your head up immediately, eyes searching through the group for Aleksander. You’re so busy looking for him, that you miss the look shared between your friends.

Then you spot him.

He’s abandoned both his kefta and tunic, so he’s dressed the same as everyone else. His shirt hangs loose, despite the breeches settled on his shoulders. His hair is messy, as it always is when he’s been running his fingers through it. You watch him lift a large piece of tree trunk onto the back of a nearby cart, and for some reason his strength surprises you.

“Your heart’s beating faster.” Fedoyr observes, and you shoot a sharp look at him. Marie and Nadia giggle at your reaction, and your cheeks feel hot regardless of the summer heat.

Shyly, your gaze returns to Aleksander, only to find him already looking in your direction. Even from this distance, you can see the corner of his lips quirk in a smile. Fedoyr raises a brow at you, no doubt in reaction to the flutter of your heart, as Aleksander begins to approach your group.

Everyone greets him politely as he stands in front of you all. He asks Nadia about her studying, and Marie about her extra combat sessions. He talks to Genya about her upcoming trip to Balakirev, and tells Fedoyr that his other half was wanting him, to which Fedoyr sits up from his position in your lap.

Then Aleksander’s eyes settle on you, and he says your name softly.

“I’m taking a walk around the lake. Would you care to join me?”

“I’d love to.”

You smile at your friends, before taking Aleksander’s arm and heading along the path that leads to the lake. Your group continues to watch the two of you for a long moment.

“Have they admitted it yet?” Nadia asks. Marie looks at her with a small frown,

“Admitted what?”

“That they’re in love with each other.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

Genya shakes her head,

“We would know if they had.” To which Fedoyr nods in agreeement.

“It will happen soon enough. Just look at them.”

Genya hums as the rest of them watch you, tucked into Aleksander’s side despite the heat. Even from such a distance, they can all see how relaxed their General seems, with a wide smile on his face as he looks at you.

“Almost as bad as you and Ivan.” She teases, and it’s Fedoyr’s turn to blush.

Marie sighs, resting her chin on her knees as she watches you and the General as you near the lake, and she admires the romantic silhouette the two of you make.

[cutedice]

Hey.. can I request Sanji and Marco the phoenix reacting to their s/o asking them for a kiss.

((certainly!! thank you for requesting!!!))

S/O Asking For a Kiss

Characters: Sanji, Marco Warnings: None, all fluff!

Everything is GN!

SANJI

- The ship had been raided earlier that day by a crew of hot-headed rookies. They left a terrible mess and ended up ransacking the kitchen.

- Sanji was obviously pissed, especially at the annoyance of the one fruit user who had some slime based powers.

- It left his entire area covered in it and he was ready to snap.

- So for the last few hours he had been locked in the kitchen cleaning.

- That means he hadn't been paying much attention to you.

- You weren't bothered, but you wanted to head to bed and it was getting increasingly harder to get his attention long enough to say goodnight.

- You were ready to just go to sleep without a word to him when you bumped into him while rounding the corner.

- "Ah, (Y/N)!" he instinctively wrapped an arm around you, resting it on your lower back. "I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

- You debated wether or not it was the best time to distract him, looking at him.

- He was working hard to get through his task list; deep cleaning the kitchen after the incident.

- Frankly you admired his will. If you had to clean up that much slime you might have just burnt down the entire Sunny.

- Yes even if that meant hiding for a few days (probably a life time) from Franky.

- He had that accomplished look though. The one anyone got after completing a hard task. He was proud.

- But, that also meant he must've been done.

- And, you felt a sense of pride for him, and you would have said something but a large yawn left you.

- "Ah, are you tired? You better get to bed," he said, pulling back to let you go.

- But, you stopped him. You gave him a look before very coolly telling him goodnight.

- "Goodnight!" he returned happily. He sat there for another moment before growing confused at the expectant look you give him. "What? Is something the matter?"

- Despite how forward and flirty he was, the chef could be oblivious as hell. So, with that in mind, you tell him. With a soft grin you let it be known that you want a kiss goodnight.

- He's absolutely stunned. Frozen in the moment.

- Then he's bright red and seeing hearts from such a direct request. "A Kiss?! You're so forward, (Y/N)!" he swooned before dipping you down and very gently kissing your forehead.

- He began to pepper your face with little kisses, laughing with you. He continued until he placed one on your lips, muffling both your giggles and laughs.

- It was soft, kind and caring. He pulled away even more dazed then you despite him initiating it.

- It was calm. He looked much more relaxed, so he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss firmly to your knuckles.

- "Goodnight my love."

MARCO

- You often find yourself sitting in his office when you're bored.

- It's either here or out there where it tended to get loud, and sometimes you just needed a break from the constant shouting.

- Marco understood and he wasn't going to complain about spending time with you.

- But right now it was late and most of the crew had turned in. There was no reason to be hiding out, much less still be awake.

- Yet you were there and wide awake, messing with various things you could get your hands on or reading from magazines.

- "(Y/N)?"

- You looked over at him from your chair, tilting your head.

- He turned around from his desk, smiling back coolly. "Take a stroll with me yoi," he gestured with his thumb to the door before he stood with a small grumble.

- You both walk out of the office and begin a small stroll around the ship hand in hand.

- It's romantic. The moon is nearly full, the ocean is calm, the breeze is nice... Lovely.

- "It is lovely," Marco mumbled in agreement.

- You looked up at him. It was a picture perfect moment. He was drenched in moonlight, staring into your eyes with the most loving gaze.

- You lean up, intending to capture a book worthy kiss.

- But then Marco moved back slightly and you stumbled.

- You were confused until you heard laughter.

- "I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist! You look adorable when you're surprised yoi," he still looked loving, but he had that mischievous glint.

- You glared lightly and said what you wanted.

- "I figured. But, come on, it was a little funny, yeah?" he bent to meet your eyes, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "Now, what did you want?"

- Suddenly quite flustered by the attention, you stammered out your request.

- Happy to oblige, Marco leaned forward and pressed a quick and sweet kiss to your lips. "There ya go yoi."

- However, he was still in that teasing mood so as he stood up he couldn't help himself. "Maybe I should make you ask everytime you want one, especially if I get that type of reaction---" he was cut off by you huffing and matching off.

- Next time he wanted one, you made him ask.

[aethes-bookshelf]

this lovely heart of mine || asra/reader

I am once again resurrected! Work and college have been kicking my ass, but I'm still working on stuff in the background (like fully plotting out and writing the rest of 'knowing you, knowing me' lol). In the meantime, I thought I could finish and post some of my shorter WIPs.

The whole 'sharing a heart' thing is a hc of mine btw. I hope you enjoy! ^^

Pairing: Asra/Reader

Wourdcount: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Summary: To bring you back, Asra gave up half his heart. But now that half lives on in you.

Two people, one heart. The two of you are never truly alone - and tonight neither of you want to be.

(AKA Exploration of the connection Asra and MC have due to sharing a heart.)

ao3 ver

The night was surprisingly cold for summer. Asra’s skin prickled with goosebumps as he rolled up the sleeves of his coat; he didn’t want them getting in the way of setting up camp. He unfastened his luggage to get his tent out. Pulling it out was a bit of a struggle  — it got tangled up with a few of the books and scrolls he had haphazardly stuffed in his bag while packing. Just as he was about to pull it out fully, one of the lines of the tent caught on a corner of a book and stretched quite a bit before slipping off. It hit him in the leg with full force.

‘Ow, shit!’ Asra jumped a bit at the impact. What started as a sharp sting quickly turned into burning. He lifted the leg of his pants to check the damage. His skin slowly grew darker in the spot where the line hit.

Asra sighed through his nose and reached into his bag again, this time looking for some soothing ointment to help the irritated skin. It was a good thing that blasted line hadn’t drawn blood — he wasn’t sure if he had any bandages on him, especially clean ones.

As he was patting the ointment onto the forming bruise — Julian’s own blend, apparently —  he noticed a probing, familiar presence at the edge of his mind. The symbol on his chest, normally hidden from view by his clothes, shone faintly through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Asra smiled, bruise and ointment both forgotten. He sat down cross-legged next to his bag, with the tent still sticking out of it. He made sure to face away from the still-bright lights of the village he was staying near — right at the border between small, white houses and the plane of grass surrounding them. He didn’t want the village’s people to see the symbol on his chest; what it represented was too touchy of a subject to share with near-strangers. They’d be sure to ask about it if they spotted it shining beneath his shirt. And they would spot it if given the chance to — most of the people who were still outside were young, their eyes still sharp. 

Besides… What he was about to do was a tad bit too intimate to do facing others.

* * *

You were busy packing an order at your shop. The sun was setting — it’d almost disappeared beneath the horizon. It was getting pretty dark, the brightness of the day giving way to growing dimness.

You snapped your fingers at nearby candles while collecting packets of dried herbs. A few flames sprung to life. They made shadows dance and flicker on the walls.

‘Will that be all?’ you asked the customer. You still wore your customary polite smile, but the day had been long and you could feel your energy leaving you. This person would be the last client for today, you decided.

‘Yes, thank you very much.’ They said, taking the merchandise off the table. They paid what was due and left through the open front door, wishing you a good night.

You liked them quite a lot — they were a regular in your shop — always made sure to stop by and buy something whenever they took a trip to this part of Vesuvia. But even their customary pleasantries and sunny attitude hadn’t cured your exhaustion.

You circled the front desk of your shop and went to the front door. You closed it with a heavy sigh. The lock clicked into place; you left the key inside it to spare yourself fetching it tomorrow.

Despite how tired you were, you still had to clean up the place. Tomorrow was still a work day, so you couldn’t leave your shop looking a mess.

You picked up a few parchment scrolls you’d used earlier in the day to roll them back up when you felt a familiar presence at the edge of your heart. It seemed like Asra finally answered your call.

Smiling, you sat down in a nearby chair and got to work on rolling the first scroll up. A wave of new sensation washed over you, taking you somewhere different.

You smelled fresh, crispy night air, tinted with a bit of incense Asra always carried with them in their travel bag. You felt grass beneath their folded legs as if they were your own. You heard voices from somewhere behind you — adults talking, children playing, a dog barking. Your leg stung a bit where the rope hit theirs. You frowned. Did they pack that ointment Julian made for them? Did the skin break? You didn’t think it did, there was no scent of blood in the air. Still, you worried.

Calmness rushed into your heart; you knew it was Asra soothing you. You took a deep breath, grateful for the reassurance. Everything was okay. They were okay.

* * *

Asra put a hand over his heart, right where the symbol was. Its light shone through the gaps between his fingers; it felt like warmth, it felt like home. It felt like you.

Leaving you these days was different from leaving you before you learned the truth about what happened. Before, every time he left, he was running away from you. There was a tinge of shame to it all. How a part of him feared coming back and looking you in the face again, knowing you didn’t know, couldn’t know about how the guilt tore him apart. How you didn’t know he had abandoned you once — and what it’d done to you.

Now, he longed for the day he’d see you again every time he left to restock the shop’s supplies. It was like being able to breathe after being submerged in water for far too long. No more fear, no more shame. Because now he didn’t have to hide from you.

He felt the plush softness of the chair you were in and the scrolls moving beneath your fingers. He heard the paper rustling as you rolled it back into place. Could smell the dust on it and the herbs drying by the windows of the shop. He could see the shadows flickering on the wall in front of you; if he reached out his hand, he could almost touch them.

Being with you like this eased the bitterness of being apart. Physically, he might be away, but anytime the loneliness was too much to bear, he could just reach out to you and you would answer. Always, without fail. Just as he would answer you.

Your feelings flowed through him in a steady stream. Comfort, love, tiredness. You should go to sleep, damn the cleaning. You could always do it in the morning.

No, there’s too much to do to leave it all for later, he thought. Thinking it was almost like you speaking to him, through him, but not quite. He still couldn’t put a finger on what it was exactly, but he had more than enough time to figure it out. He’d find out eventually.

Right now, the only thing he needed to know was that you were there, on the other side. That you were safe. And that when he reached out to you, you’d be there. No matter what.

[all54321]

Admittedly I wanted to write this but never could come up with a full story. Or even an OC to make for this so opted instead to post here. As this scene wouldn't leave my mind. You can post in private or public, whatever you want.

-

Her heart was pounding loud in her ears as she ran for it, the screams still rang up in them. Her breaths felt ragged, the forest, though sunny and bright, felt like it stretched forever. But she didn't stop, she knew once it finished with the others, it'd come for her.

She only agreed to this camping trip because her mom knew the other teens. Not that she liked them too much, bullies all of them, rather mean people. The kind of country people that weren't the most friendly.

Not that that mattered now, they were dead. Killed by a creature that had mushrooms growing on him. It started as a talk, the creature approached them, and said they were camping near his forest. And one of the idiots shot at it! Which only served to piss the thing off, vines came up, and impaled three of them when they went to do so again. After the first bullet just... it was pushed out by the creature and the wound healed over.

Some ran, she had watched two get taken down when they went to tackle it out of defense. And well... she ran, she didn't look back and kept going. But she also knew, it was going to be coming for her.

No... She didn't want to die!

And only had 3 options, Run, Hide, or Die. Running wasn't an option, it'd catch up with how fast she saw the thing move. So she hides, running into a ditch area, and hiding under the bank.

Her heart still was racing, she was shaking violently, and pushed her sleeve to muffle her breath. The pounding of blood in her ears roared over the sounds she strained to listen too. The late sun cast shadows behind her to hide her in the darkness of the small cliff mound.

Then she heard it through the silence, footsteps above her as dirt moved from the roots. And the shadow of a man with a cane stood on the top. Her eyes were wide, tears pricking at the corners of them as she tried to stay quiet, hoping, praying, the monster wouldn't find her.

She couldn't hear movement or breathing as the shadow stayed, her own breaths felt so loud to her. She didn't dare breath too much, staring at the outline.

For what felt like forever, a breath was heard, and she watched it turn away and disappear. Silence rang again, she a long while she didn't dare move, limbs feeling numb, body still shaking, and the fear still there.

Slowly she leaned back and let out a breath she had been holding, the feeling of fear did fade. It was gone, and now she had to get out of here. "Hm, there you are."

a cold feeling rushed through her body, and she snapped to the voice too see the creature sitting nearby, looking at her with green eyes. How!? How did!? It smiled at her and pressed a finger to it's lips. "Come on out now dear," a clawed hand motioned for her to come closer. "I won't harm you."

Tears pricked again as she felt too scared to move, the creature frowns slightly before getting up and making it's way to her. "now now, no need to be afraid of me." he coos in a male voice bending down to her, trapping her in the small hole. "You're very safe with me little sporeling."

W-What? Her mind felt foggy and thoughts dizzy Something tickled her mouth and lungs as she breaths in and out. "That's it, just breath, and rest, this is quiet a safe place isn't it?" he asked her, at the nod, she relaxed feeling something gripping her arms and waist. Clutching and cradling her closer.

A hand petted her cheek, and she leaned into it. "So much nicer than your companions. Do you wish to join the hivemind little one?" the creature asked her, "To feel connected and happy?"

Faintly she was aware she nodded, and the creature purred. "Then just sleep." at the words, she felt herself falling. Carefully lowered to the cool ground before passing out. She couldn't remember why she had been afraid of Father Spore.

Ooo this is really good, I love it. I also love Father Spore just going feral under threat. He won’t tolerate a genuine threat in his territory.

[dailyjuniarta]

[SEA-Teaching] 2017.01.21 City Tour

We’ve got the news that by Saturday in the first week, we will be taken on do City Tour and we were very excited about it. We heard quite a lot about the places in Cebu and when we asked for a spoiler about where we will be going, Cassey told us we might go to some place in the mountain and the Temple of Leah. When I and Dea (excitingly) search on Google what is this Temple of Leah place, we are amazed and become more excited. Known also as Temple of Love, the place is amazingly beautiful (in Google) so we were really looking forward to going there.

Only later, we didn’t go there, too bad.

There was a landslide in the mountain and they closed the access to Temple of Leah. So. Sad. But well, there is always a reason to comeback and we will still go to do the City Tour. Around 11PM, dressed in our casual clothes we went to the first floor to meet Dr. Rita. She didn’t go with us, neither do Cassey and Jasmine but we were accompanied by other students from the teaching department. Meet with the coolest squad consist of Budz, a big guy who loves Korean drama and know most of the great place in Cebu, Therese, a girl with bright smile who happened to live near a beach, Rika, a nice girl who explains a lot of the Cebu history and Marion, a gentleman majoring in English. Together with the tour guide, we were off to go around the city.

We were given the schedule of our tour and yeah, sadly, Temple of Leah is not there (still can’t move on lol). Dea and I look at each other and whine over the fact that we can’t go there. The guide gave us snacks while we were on the road. The weather was sunny that day and in fact it was too bright. Own, who was sick the day before was as red as a crab. But this kind of weather was nothing compared to Pontianak, my hometown, though.

Our first stop is Basilica del Santo Nino. One thing that piqued my interest since the first time I came to Cebu is the Holy Child figure which I know as Santo Nino later. You can find Santo Nino statues almost in every corner of Cebu. From what the students explain to us, the Basilica was founded in 1565 and is the oldest Roman Catholic Church in the country. When we arrived, we were greeted by people who sold souvenirs. Key chains, shirts, you name it. They sold key chains for 100PHP/5 key chain which is kind of expensive, because later I found a far cheaper souvenir store, haha. Anyway, we proceed to the Magellan cross first. Magellan Cross is in a chapel next to the Basilica Minore del Santo Nino. It was a big cross, and I really loved the painting on the ceiling above the cross. There are a lot of candles surrounding the cross for praying purposes. Once we took some photos there, we went inside the Basilica.

When we crossed the gate, a big field greeted us along with the decoration hanging above us. Must be from the Sinulog festival which takes place the week before. We can see a lot of people gather together, praying, seeking bless from the Santo Nino. We proceed to go inside the church and the interior is amazing. It feels like I was in a European country.

There is a statue of I ‘LOVE’ CEBU in front of Basilica del Santo Nino, right in front of one of the biggest souvenirs shop in Cebu, Island Souvenirs. So, after we strike some pose we are off to go to the next destination.

The rest of the place I have visited is a bit of a blur, but we took a lot of photos there.

Then, after stopping in one or two places, we stopped by a rather small place. It was a house with rather traditional style but it’s pretty neat. It’s only the three of us the exchange students plus the tour guide who were coming to the place. At first I thought it was a restaurant since in the other part of the house there is a place resembles café but it turned out to be a museum! Casa Gorardo museum is the name of the house. We went inside, waiting for the guide to come. Few minutes later, a cheerful looking woman came into the room and introduce herself as the guide of the museum. She took us around, explaining about the history of Cebu first then took us to the Casa Gorordo. Casa Gorordo is actually the house of the first bishop in Cebu. Casa means house in Spanish and Gorordo is the name of the family who lives in it before. The house is a mix of traditional Filipino house and European house. What’s amazing from the house is it was made from blocks of solid coral and the window sill was made from shells.

We went around the house. Everything is taken care inside the house and still in the great condition.

We are a bit too excited taking photo around the house so we should really catch up with the schedule. Traffic in Cebu is pretty tight so we only have one more place to go before going home. It was already 4PM at that time so we rushed to go to the last destination. We were going to the Mactan Shrine where there is a statue of Lapu-Lapu. He was a king once in Cebu.

Before we going back, there is a small food stall outside the Mactan Shrine who sell Tempura, a food made out of fish. I had sore-throat that day but Dea tried. Later, she becomes a fan of Tempura.

Around 7PM we were going back to the school again. It was fun traveling around the city and getting to know the history behind them.

[mnanami]

Joro at home. 3 a.m.

Pairing: Draken x Mikey of Tokyo Revengers

Summary: Three o’clock in the morning. Dark clouds hung over Tokyo. Unfriendly weather forced Joro to break into the sleeping blond’s room through a slightly open window.

Word count: 3.8k

---

Knowledge of Tokyo Revengers manga/anime is not necessary. Draken/Ken-chin are one and the same person.

~*~

Today was a good day for Joro. In the morning he was awakened by the rays of the rising sun, which after a rather chilly night, were like a remedy for his slightly chilled body. Breakfast was no problem for him, literally materializing right in front of his eyes, and lunchtime meal he intended to eat out this time. So it seemed that the day would be much more gracious than the past, not fully slept night.

Taking advantage of the beautiful weather, full and rested after his morning nap, he spent most of this sunny day outside. The cloudless, starry sky spreading over Tokyo convinced Joro to spend the night outside this time, too.

After all, nothing foreshadowed what was about to happen around 3 a.m.

Huge raindrops hit the ground. Strong gusts of wind knocked Joro off on his feet, who almost immediately took the necessary steps to reach a dry, safe place. Using an open window in one of the ground-floor apartments, slipped inside unnoticed and breathed a sigh of relief when he found that the room had ideal conditions for a frozen and drenched „guest".

The only source of light in this relatively small room was a street lamp, whose bright stream coming from behind slightly soiled lampshade, cast an eye-pleasing orange glow, scattering across the wooden panels. Joro moved nimbly across the room. Living figure sleeping on the bed moved, forcing him to immediately flee to the farthest corner of the room. Stuck in stillnes, he waited for more clues that would help him decide his next steps.

Long, bright hair spread out in a wide fan on the snow-white pillow as the boy lying on it moved, laying his body on his back. Raising his eyelids slowly, he turned his sleepy gaze toward the potential source of the sound, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the shining, coal-black eyes staring at him.

But that wasn't the worst part, it wasn't the eyes that made him panic.

Desperate, he grabbed the phone lying on the nightstand and with a trembling hand launched Line, where from his favorites list he selected the most appropriate contact in such a situation and immediately started the call.

– Ken-chin! – Mikey called out in a whisper as soon as a distinctive sound on the other end suggested answering the call.

On the phone receiver, he heard the rustling that would accompany the turning of his still sluggish body on the bed and waited impatiently for any sign of awareness from his friend.

– What's up Mikey? Do you realize what time it is? – The timbre of his voice betrayed that he was in the first phase of a slow awakening.

– You have to come here – he said, still whispering and not taking his eyes off the intruder in his room.

– Here...? It means where? – Mikey heard a vague question.

Mikey could have sworn that Ken-chin yawned.

– My place – he replied impatiently. – You must come here, Ken-chin – he repeated once again, almost pleadingly saying his name.

– You're starting to scare me. What's going on? – he asked much more counsciously.

– There's no time to explain. I don't know how long it'll stay in one place. What if it moves?

– ...Mikey...

– Just come, please – interrupted him, slowly losing his temper.

Every second counted and Ken-chin didn't seem to understand it. Isn't it obvious that if he didn't need him immediately, he'd wait until morning?

– ...Ok, I'll be there in 10 minutes.

– 5 – Mikey corrected him, not taking his eyes off the intruder still stuck in stillness.

– Fine.

Mikey didn't dare look away. The smartphone screen lit up the room, showing more clearly the vivid reason for his behavior, a behavior far different from the one known to all for its steadfastness and tenacity. He put the switched–on phone back on the bedside table and leaned his back against a soft pillow. His head touched the cool wall, obviously not allowing his gaze to wander anywhere else, to let a distant corner of the room go unattended by his watchful eyes.

Every few seconds he glanced nervously at the phone's display to see if maybe this time the passing time took pity on him and the last digit jumped up a level, heralding the ever–closer appearance of Ken-chin. But no matter what the indications were, he felt disappointed in every case. And so the next very long seconds passed, creating another very long minutes.

So until he heard the click of a lock turning and familiar footsteps in the short corridor, all that existed was him in a state at least close to hysteria, an intruder who Mikey could swear was challenging him with his attitude, and time that seemed to defy the laws of physics. The door to the room opened, and a tall figure of a blond–haired boy appeared. His hair was shaved about halfway down, from which this time he formed something like a messy bun. It was a rather surprising sight, considering that a long carefully braided hairstyle was a characteristic part of his appearance.

– You're late – Mikey greeted him with a reproachful look, remembering perfectly the clock's indication from a second ago.

– One minute – he said unmoved, closing the door. – Now tell me why you brought me here – he added, looking suspiciously around the room.

He saw no threat. Hadn't he made it? But in that case, where is the body?

– You have to get rid of it – Mikey demanded, pointing to a spot on Ken-chin's right.

Draken's gaze went in that direction. At the same moment, as if miraculously recovered, Joro shuddered, setting his until recently paralyzed body in motion. Moving his eight legs quickly, he ducked to the side, hiding behind a wooden cabinet.

– ...Seriously? – Draken looked deadly at his friend sitting on the bed and sighed when he stubbornly didn't react.

Two pairs of dark eyes stared at each other in silence. What Draken saw in Mikey's, what he hadn't seen before, was fear. It was completely unlike him, almost comical. That's why when he heard his breaking voice, the words he addressed to him – he almost laughed.

– I won't sleep as long as this thing is in my room – Mikey said, staring at him with his big black eyes.

– You made me leave my warm bed and fight my way through a wall of rain in the middle of the night. How are you going to repent?

Serious situation, serious reaction. Draken was proud of himself.

– First... get rid of it. I can't concentrate when I know it's around.

– And what am I supposed to do with it? I'm not going to put it outside in this weather.

– What?! I don't expect you to put it anywhere. You have to kill him – he blurted out, not believing that he had to explain it at all.

– I won't do it. If you want to have an innocent creature on your conscience so much, go ahead – he announced, making his friend even more shocked. – Now move over and make me a place.

Mikey got the impression that time stood still and the whole room was spinning, looping Ken-chin's words: I won't do it...I won't do it....

– ...No... if you won't kill him, what was the point of bringing you here?

He felt panic take over his stressed body again.

– None – he replied, unzipping his pants.

– Ken-chin, I'm begging you!

He tried to convince him in another way. He hoped that the pleading tone would soften his heart, which at the moment seemed to be made of stone. His fingers tightened on the material of his t-shirt, and he located his widened eyes in those of Ken-chin, equally dark, but still impassive.

– Move – he said, not commenting on his behavior in any way.

– No – Mikey countered, pulling him by his shirt.

Mikey's voice and behavior reminded Draken of an insufferable child he passed on the street yesterday, who terrorized more than one passerby with his screaming. Taking a different tactic, he grabbed him by both hands and forcibly placed him on a soft mattress, so that this one-person surface could also accommodate his exhausted body.

Probably he couldn't make it under different circumstances. Mikey's current condition was working against him, depriving him of that almost inhuman strength, the one that was hidden in his only seemingly innocent body.

– I should have called Baji – he muttered, turning his back on him like an offended child.

– But you didn't. Swallow it and go to sleep – Draken said, slipping the rubber band from his long hair, placing it on the nightstand next to him and closing his eyes.

– ...What if it comes here? – Mikey asked after a while, bringing a wide smile to the face of his friend lying next to him.

– In this last moment of your life, remember that you were my best friend and I will miss you – he replied, giving his tone of voice a serious tone.

– Not helping, Ken-chin – he said quietly, curling his body like a hurt, frightened creature.

Mikey's quiet and soft voice caused Draken's gaze to wander to his curled body. Moved by the sight, so unusual and surprising, he felt the need to speak up in a different way.

– I'll protect you... It won't even touch you – he assured, irresponsibly touching his arm.

– Promise?

– I promise – he said, slowly moving his hand.

– Thank you – Mikey whispered, tightening his fingers on Ken-chin's warm hand.

– Besides, its venom fangs cannot pierce the skin, you would only feel a slight pinch.

Along with his last word, he felt Mikey's body tighten and his fingers strengthen their grip.

– Ken-chin... knowing that it could touch me in any way makes me panic. I don't even want to think...

– Ok, I got it. I promised that he won't come near you.

– Then why you...

– Forget the fangs talk.

A quiet murmur was all Draken heard in response. Taking his hand from Mikey's shoulder, he intertwined both hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

It was better this way. He couldn't afford to make another mistake.

– When you came here... you had something strange on your head – Mikey's voice echoed through the dark room, shattering Draken's futile attempts to fall asleep.

– Why did it sound like a reproach? – he asked amused, without opening his eyes.

– Because it was.

– I had only 5 minutes, don't be picky.

Mikey turned his body to the other side. His eyes almost immediately located his friend's face. Draken's head rested on the shared pillow, and his calm breathing brought him slowly into a well-deserved, though nonetheless distant sleep. Mikey's hand unconsciously went to his long blond hair and touched its smooth surface with his fingertips.

– What are you doing?

Draken watched his silent friend, whose action shattered the recent apparent calm.

– I was checking to see if it was still there – he explained, without withdrawing his hand.

– You didn't like it that much?

– You looked... different.

– In a bad way?

– Not sure. I don't have enough data.

And once again aware of the mistake he was making, Draken could not suppress the strong urge to touch him as well. Following his answer-seeking friend, Draken moved his hand and sank his long, slender fingers into Mikey's soft hair.

– What are you doing? – Mikey repeated the question that came from Ken-chin's mouth just a moment ago.

– Checking how it is – Draken explained rather laconically.

Mikey's eyes hid behind the soft skin of his eyelids as Draken's fingertips sunk deeper, boldly touching his skin.

– Has anyone... touched your hair before? – Mikey asked, without opening his eyes.

– Yes.

The answer stirred unpleasant emotions in him. Stronger than he expected to feel.

– Who?

– Sachiko.

– Who is she?

And more importantly – why did you let her touch your hair?! The second question didn't come up. Mikey's mind didn't allow it to reach Ken-chin.

– The hairdresser I've been going to for many years – he replied, forcing himself to be serious.

Mikey's moody voice made him incredibly happy.

When, once again, a quiet murmur was all he heard from him, this time it was he who asked.

– Has anyone touched your hair before?

– Shin.

– ...And ...who is Shin? – the tone of his voice sounded similar to Mikey's.

Although, he guessed under what circumstances the whole procedure with touching took place, he felt a strange urge to destroy something in his tightly clenched fingers of his right hand.

– Does it matter?

Draken refrained from asking further questions. Instead, he steered the conversation onto a slightly different track.

– ...Does this mean that no girl has done t h e s e? – he asked, running his fingers through Mikey's hair.

– No and I don't care. – He spoke the second part of his answer in a much quieter tone.

– Interesting.

So did he hear it after all?

Mikey tensed, tensing his muscles unnaturally. Averting his gaze, Mikey withdrew his still unsatisfied fingers. Draken's hand froze, letting his fingers rest freely on his friend's head. He didn't want to lose contact with him. Not yet.

– Are you bored? – asked Draken, extremely curious about the answer.

Mikey's disobedient body brought him another wave of heat. However, this time its source was not hidden in a monster on frail legs. The source had a completely different form, it was much closer, dangerously close.

– I wouldn't fall asleep that way – he replied evasively.

Draken smiled slightly upon hearing this forced comment, and ready to do the same, his hand returned to its original position, just behind his head.

Mikey understood perfectly what was happening. He understood, and at the same time tried with all his might to deny it. He told himself that the reason was the strange atmosphere, full of irrational mystery, the darkness in the room and this almost unbearable negligible distance between them. He told himself that under different circumstances his thoughts would not have wandered into such distant and unknown corners of his mind. Under normal circumstances, he would never have allowed himself such a scenario.

But is it really true?

After all, this isn't the first time Ken-chin's presence has simultaneously calmed and stimulated him. In that case, is there any point in denying it? Isn't it better to accept defeat and move on? Isn't it better to get honest and simply try to forget?

Aware that this was probably the last time Ken-chin would allow him to be this close, Mikey moved closer and grasped the material of his shirt in his fingers. Stimulated by his more intense scent, he closed his eyes, letting the pleasant scent fill his senses.

– I didn't know you were afraid of spiders – Draken said quietly.

The sound of his voice didn't betray one bit of what was going on inside him. Of how Mikey's unexpected gesture, affected his already rebellious heart.

– This is new to me – he added, but this time with the last word, he allowed himself something more.

He slowly raised his right hand, rested it on the mattress just behind Mikey's back, and, hesitating for a moment more, finally dared to touch them. Mikey shuddered. The warmth of Ken-chin's fingers felt behind the thin material of his t-shirt penetrated this fragile barrier and sank deeper, amazingly stimulating the receptors on his skin.

– Only you know about it – he said, struggling to control the tone, volume and speed of his voice. – If you tell anyone, I'll know it's you.

– It would be unwise to betray your only weakness.

– The only one you know – he corrected him quietly.

– There are more?

– Yes, but don't ask. I won't tell you anyway.

– ...What if I promised you that I'd get rid of Joro? – Draken asked, moving his hand a little higher.

Mikey's body tensed, which was easily sensed by Ken-chin's fingers touching him.

– ...Who?

– The spider from behind the closet. Although, in fact, it could be anywhere now.

– You're not playing fair – Mikey muttered, not daring to open his eyes.

He saw the impenetrable darkness that spread out right in front of him as a safe space where the word 'failure' did not exist. He wanted to believe that just behind the delicate skin of his eyelids there was nothing worth taking the risk to open his eyes and see if the illusory world in his head really existed.

– By the way, it doesn't have to be a spider. – Draken's voice rang out again. – Did you know that there is a yōkai named Jorōgumo who can take the form of a beautiful woman or a large spider?

When no response from his friend lying right next to him came, and the only reaction to his words was a stronger grip of Mikey's fingers on the cotton material of his t-shirt, Draken decided to continue.

– And did you know that these yōkai feed on young men?

– If so, shouldn't you also feel threatened?

– Good point.

– ...Since you know my weakness, it would be fair if you tell me yours – Mikey stated, remaining in the safe bubble of his own imagination.

– Yes, it would. But I'm afraid that would be the last thing you'd hear from me.

The illusory bubble burst, shattering irretrievably. Dark eyes met the other's, staring at him with utmost attention and a kind of sadness.

– I don't understand... – he said, getting the impression that the meaning of Ken-chin's next words would change everything.

– I don't want to lose you Mikey, so it's better if I don't dispel your doubts.

The chaos in his mind made it difficult to focus. Looping thoughts, at times absurd, forced him to speak back to Ken-chin in a way that would leave him no choice but to give in and confess the truth.

– Explain it to me – Mikey demanded, feeling his heart speed up, reaching unnatural speeds – and let me decide if you deserve to lose me.

A thought flashed through Draken's mind that although the chances were small, they were not really zero, that he had the right to hope. Fighting an internal battle, he didn't expect that the outcome would be decided by this seemingly small gesture from the boy staring at him.

Once again, Mikey's hand boldly moved toward Ken-chin's face, but this time it stopped captured by his strong fingers.

– You do realize that this is not able to stop me, right? – Mikey said without taking his eyes off him.

– Yes, although I'm not sure why.... What you were trying to do.

– Let me go, I'll show you.

– ...Isn't it strange? – Draken asked quietly.

His fingers still clenched tightly in Mikey's warm palm.

– What?

– The way we behave.

– Damn strange – Mikey admitted, causing Ken-chin's quiet laughter to reach his ears.

– If so, I think I'll take my chance – he said, pressing his hand against his warm cheek.

Mikey's eyes widened and his anxious heart sped up its work. Is it right to take his behavior in this way? Is it responsible to trust his own intuition? An intuition disturbed by the emotions bubbling up inside him?

– You're stronger than me, so stop me if I cross the line – Ken-chin spoke softly, giving him time to understand what was going on.

Very slowly and with hesitation noticeable in his movements, Draken brought him even closer to himself and held him close enough that he could feel his warm breath on his skin.

– Is it normal? – Mikey's voice was filled with emotion.

– What do you mean? – Draken asked, trying to trust his own senses, what he sees, hears and feels.

– That I don't mind...

– No, but...

– But?

– I'm not sure if I want to be normal... or if I want you to be.

– What's holding you back?

– It's hard to explain.

– You're scared – Mikey said, almost accusingly.

– Yes. I'm afraid that my action will destroy what is between us, and at the same time I'm afraid that if I don't take the risk, I'll lose the chance to see how close you would let me get to you.

– ...You're not a coward, Ken-chin. It's in your nature to take risks.

Provoked by his words, Ken-chin stopped analyzing his every potential move. Loosening the grip around his hand, he felt Mikey's fingers adjust to the shape of his cheek and slowly move higher, weaving their way into his long hair, which fell loosely around his neck and shoulders. His own hand found a rest on Mikey's face, slowly and carefully exploring every inch with his fingertips. Stopping near the lips, he ran his fingers over it and parting it gently, got close enough to taste it.

– It took an awfully long time – he heard Mikey's quiet whisper.

– They say mood is important – he replied with a slight amusement.

– Apparently so – Mikey agreed, expecting that this was not all they had experienced, that the tension between them would lead them in only one right direction.

As expected and as their needs grew stronger, their lips found each other again, and impatient hands made the space between them stop existing. The two moved independently, yet in remarkable synchronization, pushing against each other even more, so that the sensation of closeness reached another, higher level. The subtle kisses they shared gradually gained pace, significantly changing their character. Deeper and deeper, longer and longer, and more and more addictive, they deprived them of the ability to consciously control themselves, to return to a place that at the moment their flustered minds perceived as something irrelevant, something that never existed. That's why when Ken-chin moved, laying his body on top of the other one, the one belonging to the blond-haired, shorter boy staring at him with his shining black eyes, they both realized that returning to the life before that moment, was impossible. Ken-chin's kindness and unusual understanding of the surrounding world, not once suprised Mikey and made him feel safe. Knowing that he was next to him, that he could always count on him, gave him courage and faith that if he ever got lost, he would find him. Ken-chin will do anything to bring him back.

– Have I reached the limit? – heard his quiet question, snapping him out of his momentary daze.

– Limit? – Mikey repeated, not understanding.

– Have I gone too far? – he asked in a different way.

– I don't think there is any limit – Mikey replied, creating a unique confusion in Ken-chin's mind as well as his own.

– Impossible.

Mikey smiled, moving his hand to the spot where Ken-chin's smooth scalp was marked with a black tattoo under his hairline, and trailing his fingers along the sunken ink, forced his way closer to him. Their faces were almost touched each other, their breaths mingled with each other, and their gazes clearly betrayed what was to come next.

– In that case... let's find out which one of us is right – Mikey whispered against his lips.

...

„There are times when you can't give up." Draken, Tokyo Revengers

[strawberry-fields-things]

▸ A BREATHTAKING VIEW

pairing: trapeze artist!wilbur soot x fem!reader

ALTERNATIVELY TITLED… being a member of the higher society and catching a circus boy’s eye.

CHOSEN AU… the greatest showman

WARNINGS… suggestive themes, heights, mentions of fire, mentions of guns, swearing.

NOTES… i’m not really sure how i feel about this one and the only reason I’m posting it is because @sunniewrites and @rowanndoesntwrite-moved-deactiv are featured so,,, here we go!

This post is part of my 1k event! Be sure to send your request before they close <3

“This is ludicrous.” Your father chastises. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

Murmuring and giggling can be hear everywhere within the colorful theater-like place. Bright lights shine on the stage, different artists weaving and shifting through the place in colorful outfits.

You straighten. “I think it’s quite entertaining.” You turn to see your father’s disapproving look. How you managed to convince him to come is beyond you. “What?”

You shake your head with a laugh, attempting to hide the nervous edge. You had heard of the circus coming to town, and you had begged for your brothers to take you. Somehow — and you say this with the same confusion you felt then — your father agreed to accompany you. With the condition, of course, that you two would be sat at one of the wings, away from the rest of the public.

“You should at least try to enjoy yourself, father.”

He only shakes his head, as if waving you off. “Yes, yes, I’ll—”

Then, a voice cuts through, and the sea of artists by the stage parts like the Red Sea, making way for a young man with golden hair and bright green eyes.

“Ladies and gentleman!” The man — the ring master, you assume — exclaims with a grin. He raises his arms, making him appear bigger than he actually is.

“Welcome, to the show of your dreams.”

To say that your time in the circus has been amazing would be selling it short.

You’ve marveled at every act, laughed and gasped when the scene required it. Overall, it’s been a beautiful way of escaping the socialite lifestyle— at least for a single night.

And yet none of the previous sights even begin to compare to the trapeze act once it finally begins.

The trapeze artists swing at an arm’s length away from you — and before your father can stop you, you’re standing against the railing, eyes wide with awe.

And yet the laughs, the murmuring, the amazed looks all seem to fall behind at one particular moment of the act. Because as you lean against the railing, one of the trapeze artists swings in front of you, and time seems to slow down as he draws closer.

He has pretty brown eyes, you notice, and even prettier curly brown hair. He’s close enough that if you were to reach out your hand, maybe your fingers would’ve found his.

Brown meet e/c. Your lips part in the slightest, the corner quirking upward. The circus boy, however, resorts to an sheepish grin, a strange glint dancing in his eyes.

Yet before you can react, time resumes once again— taking its natural course as the boy returns to the opposite elevated platform.

“Who’s that?”

The show continues with pyrotechnics and fire-related tricks from Sapnap and Niki, while the rest of the artists remain hidden backstage.

The rest of the trapeze group shares a few looks at Wilbur’s evident awestruck expression, while the man in question raises one of the edges of the curtain to get a better look.

Rowann and Tommy let out a poorly concealed snicker, sharing a knowing look, while Sunnie shakes their head with a click of their tongue, struggling to hide their amusement.

And yet, it’s only once Dream’s distant laugh joins in that Wilbur does finally turn around, brows furrowed. He looks down from the hidden platform — place where most trapeze artists ( plus a certain brunet acrobat who has quickly become a friend of Tommy’s and the rest ) have already turned into their makeshift room, with pillows and blankets of every fathomable color.

“What?”

Dream shakes his head with another laugh, a mischievous glint in his green gaze. Then, finally, his lips part to respond,

“When Techno told you to aim for the stars, I don’t think he meant in a literal sense, Wilbur.”

The response makes a strange feeling settle within his gut. Rowann does a vague gesture towards Wilbur and Sunnie, to which the latter nudges the tall brunet.

Get down there, they’re all trying to say, and Wilbur hesitates. Why is everyone being so weird?

Nevertheless, the boy rolls his shoulders and reaches for one of the bars, gracefully swinging down and landing a few feet away from Dream.

Wilbur tilts his head, eyes both confused and curious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dream rolls his eyes, striding towards the curtain that leads to the stage. With a flick of his wrist, the ring master pushes the curtain slightly to the side — enough to catch a glimpse of the girl Wilbur seemed so enthralled with. “The girl at the wings?” He nudges his head towards you. “That’s Y/N L/N.”

Wilbur’s whole body — usually moving so elegantly, with calculated shifts and turns — freezes on the spot, heart dropping to his gut.

“L/N? As in—”

His mouth has gone dry. He doesn’t need him— any of them to answer. Because of course, of course the girl that has caught his eye is a L/N. He doesn’t need confirmation— and although he should’ve known, Dream’s look tells him everything.

Yes, L/N. Yes, as in one of the richest families of the city— one of the families expected to have countless children to inherit their parents’ wealth, only to be left with three children. Two sons, and one daughter.

One daughter.

And though Wilbur has never been one to indulge in gossip — god knows it never did anyone any good — he has heard about you. The prized L/N daughter, your father’s perfect jewel.

He’s heard about the countless attempted engagements — promises from rich men with barely any brains, brawn, or respect, for that matter. Wilbur would know— he’s met his fair share of those.

Still, no matter how many times voices would whisper or newspapers would promise, swear that you were finally getting married, something— everything, really, would go sideways. An unfortunate injury, a sudden move from the city, a lucky change of plans. No matter who it was, you always seemed to escape the engagements.

Some called it a bad omen. Still, it didn’t stop men from trying. But regardless of what the people said, Wilbur couldn’t help but find it respectable. After all, he more than anyone understands the feeling of being tied down to the ground, when everything you’ve ever wanted flies overhead in the sky.

“Invite her to the next show.”

Wilbur hears his own voice before he even realizes what he just said.

Dream’s eyebrows shoot upward in surprise, jaw falling slack. “Pardon?” And no bone in Wilbur’s body doubts the fact that all three kids are peering down at the exchange, eyes wide and ears perked.

“The next show.” Wilbur finally repeats, stammering slightly as he tries to gather his thoughts, unable to understand where the sudden impulse came from. “Have her come again.”

Dream quirks a brow, interested. “What makes you think they would want to go?”

The brunet shrugs, unable to find a true answer to the green eyed man’s question. Instead, he opts to say, “Intuition.”

“Hm.” The man hums, thinking. He ponders on the thought for a moment, letting go of the heavy red curtain. The corner of his lip twitches upward into a smirk, bordering a grin. “Alright circus boy, if you invite her yourself, then you’ve got a deal.”

If you were to ask him, gun pointed to his head, Wilbur would’ve never been able to tell you where the surge of confidence comes from.

“Deal.”

The bustling mass of people leaving the theater is always a mess— like bumbling bees, like a crowd of ants, all headed in different directions yet the same one. Truly, it’s a miracle he even manages to spot you.

“Miss!”

You turn around, dress following your every shift. It’s a pretty one— a green tone, hard to miss.

Wilbur notes that you’re alone this time, and a part of him is secretly thankful. Perhaps if things do go sideways and he ends up making a fool of himself — as Rowann ever-so helpfully told him — at least he won’t be embarrassed in front of your father too.

“Oh.” You say as soon as you meet his brown gaze, features brightening. “It’s you.”

It doesn’t sound demeaning, or disgusted or disappointed in any way— it makes warmth shoot through his body. You remember him— not only do you remember him, but you’re happy to see him.

He’s already nodding once you’re right in front of each other, near the entrance to the theater yet still within the bounds of his home.

“Mhm. Wilbur.” A pink blush spreads through his cheeks. “I-I mean, I’m Wilbur.”

“Y/N.” You supply sheepishly, as if he wouldn’t know who you are— as if you weren’t part of the highest form of elite to both the young and old members of society.

Wilbur licks his lips, offering a smile. “You seemed to be enjoying the show.”

“I did! It was wonderful, I-” The raw excitement drops from your voice, hesitating before your tone drops to a calmer, more proper one. “You’re all incredibly talented.”

Despite the sudden change — one that leaves Wilbur with a strange, foreign taste in his mouth — he can feel his whole demeanor soften.

“Thank you.” He says, and though he’s certain he says it with the same cadence as before, he can’t help but let it feel like a murmur. He hasn’t heard a direct compliment to him in forever— as they usually go to the face of it all, Dream, and occasionally Techno.

You stare back at him — expression dripping with awe, yet expectant— when Wilbur stumbles over his own words upon realization.

Right— he approached you. Not the other way around.

“Come to our next show.” He says suddenly, bluntly, louder than any of his previous statements.

“Pardon?”

His confidence falters for a second, heart skipping a few beats, hammering against his chest. He inhales sharply. “Our, um, our next show.” He repeats, stammering. “We’d love to have you here again.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, reality settles within Wilbur’s bones with an ice-cold sting.

And, suddenly, everything starts feeling much more real and much more stupid than it did earlier.

What was he thinking?

He lives in a circus — surrounded by the same people members of your social circle laugh of. And although you’ve been nice so far, he’s certain that this is where it ends, and he should be turning around, going back t—

“I’d… I’d love to be back again.”

Six words. Six words that — despite going against everything you had been taught up until that moment — would become the best decision you would ever make.

Because, soon enough, one visit would become two. Then two would turn to three. Three to four— up until the point you had lost count of how many times you had sneaked out of your home once your family had fallen asleep.

It felt like living a different life, if you’re being honest. Like every night, as soon as the clock stroke midnight, you’d be wandering into a different reality— one you could only ever dream about.

During your third visit, Wilbur — the very nice, very cute trapeze boy from your first day — finally agreed to introduce you to a few of his friends and family.

From a loud acrobat by the name of Tubbo to a trio of troublesome trapeze artists, they were all surprisingly nice. Skeptic at first, of course, yet eventually warmed up to you and your presence.

It was on your fourth night that one of the youngest kids — the one named Sunnie — asked why you insisted on wearing fancy princess dresses to your nightly visits.

“Sunnie!” Wilbur seethed, shooting them a glare as he looked up at her dangling legs.

“What?” They asked, quirking an innocent brow as she looked down at the pair. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking!”

By the time your visit was coming to a close, Wilbur was already apologizing for the whole ordeal, saying they meant nothing by it— just curiosity, no ill intent.

To his surprise, you didn’t look mad. If anything, you looked… embarrassed.

“No, no, it’s okay!” You had insisted with a nervous laugh. “I just, um— my mother. She insists on me wearing these dresses, so they’re, ah, they’re all I’ve got.” And then, with flushed cheeks, you added, “Not that I’m not grateful, of course!”

Wilbur only furrowed his brows, tilting his head slightly to the side as he looked down at your frame. And, with a scrunched nose, he asked, “Aren’t they… uncomfortable?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

By your fifth night visiting, Wilbur was out running errands— which meant you’d be on your own.

Well, at least until the group of four kids decided to join you.

They were all nice, as always— too chaotic and loud, and it was certainly something new, something… good.

Yet, soon enough, Tommy, Sunnie, Rowann and Tubbo had all fallen asleep— the latter on a hammock quite a few feet above the ground, something you would never get used to.

You gathered your things to leave, ready to make your exit when your e/c eyes met with this warm brown ones.

“Oh!” He exclaimed in surprise. “I-I, um, I didn’t know you were coming today.”

You nodded slowly, timidly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, and you took the chance to really look at Wilbur.

He was tall, that was undeniable— and yet you noticed he leaned down in the slightest, almost as if to appear to be shorter ( to be closer to your level ). His brown curls were always in a disarray, yet there was this golden aura around him— one that seemed to glow brighter every time he laughed or grinned.

In short, he was pretty. The type of pretty your brothers would be wary of, that your mother would gush over— if he had a known family name, of course.

You didn’t know Wilbur’s family name, you realized. A different, foreign sort of impulse started to grow root within your chest. And you didn’t really care.

“Oh, um, I got you something.” Wilbur murmured, scrambling to open a leather bag that hung by his hip. You barely had a chance to process his words when he’s pulling up a medium-sized box.

Brown met e/c as you hesitantly held it between your hands. Your gaze met his briefly, as if searching for the permission to open it. He nodded encouragingly, a faint pink over his cheeks as he did.

As soon as the lid slid off, your jaw nearly dropped. Within the simple box lied a beautiful, pale yellow dress with little flowers embroidered into it. It was nothing out of this world— and you were nearly certain it was a different colored version of Niki’s dress.

It was simple, so simple, yet so unbelievably perfect.

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “Oh, god, you’re crying, I’m sorry— I just thought I—”

You shook your head, looking up at him with a new glint that danced in your gaze.

“No, no, I-I love it.”

Then, hesitantly, you stood on the tip of your toes to gently place a kiss on Wilbur’s cheek. “Thank you,” you whispered.

You would come to spend countless more nights by Dream’s Circus — not during the daylight, but rather once the show was over and the moon lit up the starry-night sky.

But that didn’t mean your day-life had stopped turning— which, finally, brings us to your last night by the circus.

This time, you arrive later. Which in of itself is odd, given that you’re the most punctual person Wilbur knows. For an hour or two ( he definitely wasn’t keeping track, not at all ) he paces, wondering if something happened to you. Then, as he’s starting to accept that you’re not coming — and he has to hide that raw disappointment deep within his chests — he sees you.

This time, wearing the dress Wilbur gifted you. And it would bring a smile to his face, if it wasn’t for your own expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You inhale sharply, voice the slightest but shaky. “We need to talk.”

We need to talk. Four words no man— no human being ever wants to hear.

And so, despite his heart beating inside his chest like a rattled canary, he follows you as you head towards the fire escape.

His heart still beats erratically, even after you’ve began to explain your current situation. Slowly, slowly, he starts to ease in the slightest.

“They’re not giving me a choice— each time I got out of it, I was only prolonging the inevitable.”

“What did they say?” Wilbur asks, leaning against the rusted railing of the fire escape.

You sigh, holding your head between your palms. “That he seems like the perfect prospect and an even more perfect husband. A match made in heaven.” You turn to face him, eyes lost in thought. Then, your fists curl, out of anger, out of desperation, he can’t be sure. “They want to ship me off to France.”

A loss of freedom, Wilbur realizes as he gazes back at you. 

If asked to, Wilbur wouldn’t be able to pinpoint what it is exactly that makes him blurt out, “Dream is moving the circus.”

You blink once. Twice.

“What?”

The trapeze artist licks his lips, anxiously running a hand through his brown curls. “He wants to leave this building behind—  make it a tent. A moving attraction.” His voice becomes softer, anxiousness finally giving away. “Maybe we’ll visit France. Or maybe—” he halts, inhaling sharply, before his voice drops to a murmur. “maybe you could come with us.”

His proposal hangs in the silence for a few moments. In the distance, both of you can hear the city starting to wake up — with the skies only beginning to shift into warmer colors, the sun yet to be seen.

A familiar glint dances in your eyes as you meet his gaze. The corner of your lips twitch upward, before you find yourself scoffing a light chuckle. “My father will kill me if I run away with a cute circus boy.” You turn to look away, hands holding onto the railing. “He’s already got the Mayor’s favor and the whole police department in his pocket.”

Brown meet e/c, Wilbur’s cheeks slowly but surely gaining a pink tone. 

Nevertheless, you continue with an exhale. “I can’t drag you— all of you into my mess.”

The brunet lets the statement settle for a moment. Two. Then, with a knowing smile, he says, “…You think I’m cute?”

You scoff, hiding a growing smile behind the back of your palm. You look at him, noting how the blush spreads towards the tip of his ears.

“...I think you know the answer.”

Despite his heating face, Wilbur can’t help but grin. And with the first rays of sunlight starting to reach the building tops, he can’t help but think oh, just how beautiful and great can you possibly be?

He decides to take the chance.

Wilbur moves to the side slightly, shoulder nudging against shoulder. You look up, nose nearly brushing against his. And now that you’re close— so, so close — your mind can’t stop wondering, has he always been this pretty?

Yes, yes he has.

Wilbur inhales softly. “Well, this cute circus boy can’t offer you a better life than your future husband could,” he begins, voice barely above a murmur, “but if you— if you choose to come with us— with me, I can sure as hell promise to show you the world.”

A smile curls onto your lips, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, everything feels right.

You turn to look at the buildings, the streets you’ve always known, leaning your head on Wilbur’s shoulder.

The sun rises over the city.

“I’d like that.”

TAGLIST… @nonsensicallynarnian @sushisoot @krazykupcakes113 @god1ngs @dukina @bubblezbee @gray-moon2 @aash-nah @scootersmccall @wingedghostpepper

ADDITIONAL NOTES… I’ve had this one in my drafts for so long because it kept glitching out and deleting paragraphs </3 i’m just glad that i finally finished it honestly lmao

[juletheghoul]

Burning Hour (Part 3)

This series has completely taken over my life and I am so happy you are all enjoying it so much - thank you for all of the lovely messages and comments - I treasure them deeply.

So - you shouldn't be surprised that this particular moment on the red carpet absolutely inspired a scene in this story and I regret nothing. Hope you all enjoy this fantasy that's keeping me going lol.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, fingering/touching / slight dirty talk (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4

—

You floated through the morning.

Your dreams were full of kisses, of declarations of love and beskar glinting under the sun and it was hard to concentrate on anything.

You smiled to yourself as you broke your fast with warm bread and butter, feeling his eyes on you from his place behind your father.

“Your highness-” Your father’s advisor came through the door holding the usual paperwork, things for him to look over, letters to read. “-A letter has come for the Princess.” He turned to you then with a smile. He was an old man, grandfatherly and sweet. He handed it to you and you noticed from the corner of your eye Din’s helmet turn towards you.

It was a small letter and you noticed how beautiful the script was as you opened it.

Dearest Princess,

I would be honoured if you were to join me here at my home for dinner. My messenger awaits your response and if you agree, I will send my personal household guard to accompany you. I also imagine your knight will be in attendance, I welcome him and whoever else you choose to bring at my table. Ruby as well of course.

Hoping you’ll say yes.

Ever yours,

Poe. D.

“It’s from Poe, he asks that I join him this evening for dinner.” You were frowning at the letter, conflicted because you wanted to stay home, wanted to meet Din in the garden again. A tiny part of you however, the tiniest part wanted to say yes - wanted to see how Poe would behave. Part of you wanted him to do something unforgivable to wipe the smiles off your parents faces.

“Oh but you must go!” Your father’s voice boomed through the room and you imagined that you could almost hear Din’s jaw clenching.

“Yes my darling, you must go. What does the letter say?” Your mother held her hand out and you handed it to her. She smiled as she read it. “Din, you must accompany her.” She was smiling big, excited at the prospect of a match having been made. No one bothered to ask if you wanted to go.

“Yes of course, let his messenger know that the Princess will be in attendance. She will go, Din- I leave her safety in your hands. Take you who must.” It had been decided for you, and you had to accept it. You felt Mila’s hand grasp yours under the table in understanding.

-

“Which gown would you like to wear your highness?” She asked sadly as you put on your undergarments and you sighed.

Whichever one makes everyone leave me alone.

“Whichever you think would look best sweetling, I have no preference.” You said the words and they were honest. Yes - Poe was charming and sweet, handsome and in another life you would have been faint with excitement at his interest in you but you were in love with Din. He was the one you wanted to share a meal with. He was the one you wanted to kiss in the open - to have holding your hand as you sat together in front of the hearth. He was the one you wanted in your bed.

“How about this one?” She held out a lovely powder blue gown. You would have said no, something more plain but you had to be seen to be making an effort.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t comment on it.

“I will tie a blue ribbon around Ruby’s neck to match, and I think you have some sapphires as well.” She brought over a tray of jewelry for you to peruse while she laced up your gown.

Your mind drifted to an interesting place. You imagined you were preparing for dinner with Din and imagined your knight picking out jewels for you to wear.

Would he prefer diamonds? Would he like me better in opals or emeralds?

You had a feeling he wouldn’t mind either way, but it was lovely to pretend even for a moment. She placed a dark blue cloak about your shoulders and stood back.

“You look beautiful Princess, the blue looks lovely against your skin.” She held up a silvered looking glass and you saw the reflection of a happy woman, although why she was happy - no one could know.

“Thank you sweetling, let's get this night over with shall we?” You smiled at her as you both made your way outside.

---

Din, along with five of his best knights, waited for her to set out for Damerons home. Damerons own household guard waited as well, having been sent to accompany her and he surveyed them. They seemed competent enough, he gave them their space nonetheless.

It was getting more and more difficult to put the future out of his mind - he knew that the Princess would marry at some point, it was her duty as Queen. She might even marry Poe - he knew that objectively they were a good match but his mind simply couldn’t stay objective. Not when it came to her.

This whole thing was moving faster than he hoped and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

You have to face facts Djarin, you’ll never marry her. You are a knight, she is a Princess, there is no place for you. Maybe you should just let her go.

It was in him to do so, to ignore his feelings for her; to find Gisela and ask her to marry him - have a couple of little ones and pray for things to work out. The harsh words to get her to hate him on the tip of his tongue but they evaporated like dew on a sunny day when he saw her come out to meet him.

She was a gem- a bright, glittering thing that he wanted so desperately to hold onto.

“I am ready Sir, shall we?” She smiled shyly and he nodded.

“Of course Princess, allow me.” He guided her into the wheelhouse, dreading and cherishing every single second.

--

The ride was uneventful, the road was quiet thankfully with nothing to see but long swathes of trees and greenery in the gloaming of the evening.

Ruby was napping softly in your lap but woke quickly when you arrived, her little tail wagging happily at the prospect of exploring.

“Yes my little darling - we are here.” She was in Mila’s arms when you pet her, the two of you waiting for the wheelhouse to come to a stop.

Din opened the door for you, he was helping you climb down when you heard Poe’s voice sounding out.

“Princess, I am so pleased you agreed to come-” He was striding over, his squire on his heels. “-I am happy to see you all. Please - be welcome.” He was smiling big at everyone as his guards retreated, no doubt returning to their posts. He crouched quickly to pet Ruby before approaching you.

“Hello Poe, I thank you for your invitation.” You smiled as you took in your surroundings. His home was a beautiful sprawling estate. He must have been wealthier than you thought. “You must give me a tour of the grounds - I would love to see the gardens.” You smiled at him as he offered you his arm.

“Of course Princess, I will show you whatever you wish after our meal - unless you’d like to go now?” He paused for a moment.

“After dinner would be just fine.” You answered as he guided all of you inside.

--

You weren’t sure what to expect about his home when the letter had come in earlier but it was a pleasant surprise. There were fresh cut flowers everywhere, painstakingly detailed tapestries hung up on the walls as you made your way to the large dining room. Lush carpets and plush chairs, truly a man who enjoyed his comforts.

“You have a lovely home Poe.” You smiled as he led you to your seat.

“I thank you Princess -“ He turned to Din and the other Mandalorians waiting by the table. “-Please, sit with us. I meant what I said, you are all welcome at my table.” He gestured to them to sit.

“I do not wish to intrude, we would be happy to eat with the rest of your household guard.” Din replied, his voice was clipped however.

“Nonsense. I insist, I dare say the Princess would be more comfortable if you were to join us.” He said it with an easy smile and Din hesitated slightly before agreeing. They all sat, lining their helmets up before them.

Din barely spoke.

He had never been one for long speeches - you were unsure whether it was because of the helmet, or just his nature. The other Mandalorians were friendlier and Poe took it all in stride. You could see that he took nothing personal and treated them just as he treated you.

Aside from Din’s cool demeanor and Poe’s etiquette, the dinner went well. The food was wonderful and you didn’t fail to notice some of your favourites on the menu.

“I took the liberty of finding out what you like to eat.” He said it quietly, not wanting to draw attention and you favoured him with a smile. It was hard not to like him, he was very thoughtful.

Once the meal was done, he fulfilled his promise and escorted you outside. It was much more open than the gardens back home - everything illuminated by torches and lanterns. There were flowers and neatly pruned shrubbery surrounding the large building. You noticed a stable on one side, as well a modest greenhouse on the other.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re used to but I enjoy it. The kennels are just behind the stables and there are flowers and different fruit trees just to the right there - that’s where they get the most sun. I’m afraid the night doesn’t do it justice, it’s much lovelier during the day.” He was walking you through the grounds, your arm tucked under his as your party followed.

“It’s lovely, truly.” You were sincere and you couldn’t help but look up, the sky awash in stars. “I would imagine you must spend a lot of time out here.” You let him guide the way.

“Not as often as I'd like to, but I try. Perhaps when we marry I’ll make more of an effort.” He said it with a wink and you scoffed loudly but without malice.

“Oh is that so? Well then I suppose I’ll have to change some things around since in your mind I’ll live here hm?” Your tone was playful but sarcastic and you were acutely aware of Din following the two of you.

“Oh yes Princess, I am quite sure. My home is yours and you may do with it what you will. I live only to make you happy.” He was just as playful and as annoyed as you were that he was so confident in your union, it was also aggravatingly refreshing to be able to speak to someone so honestly - better yet for them to respond in kind.

You ignored it, Poe was charming, that’s all.

Much to your annoyance, the night was enjoyable. Poe was an excellent host and it was later than you had originally planned when you set off for home. The woods were pitch black in some spots, it made you anxious to ride in the wheelhouse while the world outside seemed like it didn’t exist. The soft light of the moon doing nothing to pierce through the darkness of the road at times.

Reaching the palace had been a relief and you said as much when you stepped out.

“You should have told me Princess, I would have ridden in it with you - if it would have helped.” He spoke as he guided you inside. You had wanted to, but the temptation of having him so close would have been too much - and as much as Mila knew about your feelings towards him - you didn’t want her to see you kissing him.

You patted his arm in silent thanks and he said nothing else.

When you reached your room you hesitated at the door, wanting him to pull you away somewhere but he didn’t - instead he waited until Mila got in. He took his helmet off and you smiled at the state of his hair. Your fingers itched to ruffle through it.

“Princess, if it’s not too late, I would ask you to join me for a midnight ride.” He waited for your answer and your smile widened.

“Of course! Would you permit me to change quickly?” You didn’t want to ride in such a stuffy gown - as beautiful as it was.

“I will wait however long it takes.” He motioned for you to go and you did - urging Mila to help you once you reached your bedchamber.

“The soft linen dress I think - with the long shift and the heavy cloak. I want to be comfortable and warm.” You changed as fast as humanly possible - all but ripping the jewelry off and within a few minutes you were rushing out the door. The two of you making your way towards the stables as silently as possible.

You watched him work deftly, his skilled hands saddling his horse with ease. One horse, not two.

“Are we to ride together?” You looked at him confused.

“Is this a problem for you Princess? I thought it might be quicker to get us to safety should something happen if we were on the same horse. I could saddle you your own if you prefer - we just wouldn’t travel too far.” He hesitated momentarily and your heart leapt at the thought that he would be holding you so closely.

“I trust your judgment Sir, one horse it is.” You kept your voice neutral and he nodded, finishing his work quickly. Once he was done - he helped you up and pulled himself up behind you. The cool beskar pressed up against your back as his arms reached around you to grab the reins.

Your dress pooled up around your thighs slightly, but your legs were covered by your big cloak but it was exciting nonetheless. You felt exposed, with his proximity it excited you way more than it should have. It felt forbidden, taboo and thrilling to have it feel like he was holding you. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his body slightly but he didn’t complain.

The ride through the forest was quiet except for the sound of the night birds, the crickets and the creatures that prowled at this time. The sound of the horses' steps, the sound of its breathing mixing with yours as well as Din’s. He rode through trees, through the little paths only he seemed to know and after a while you were beside a lake. The soft sound of the water kissing the shore added to the nightsong and you were happy that he had brought you here. He had been silent the whole ride, but you felt him take his helmet off behind you and secure it somehow to the saddle.

“You should know that you looked exceptionally lovely today Princess, blue is your colour.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered. You turned slightly to look back but you couldn’t fully face him, the angle awkward but he kissed you just under your ear to let you know it was okay.

“I thank you Sir, I hoped you would like it.” You leaned back into his arms to tuck your head under his chin.

“You wore that for me? I thought you wore it for Dameron.” His hands came up to hold onto your arms as he pressed little kisses to your neck.

“I always dress for you.” You left it at that, hoping he would understand that despite everything- he was the one you wanted.

“Can I confess something?” His hand came up to slowly undo the cloak tied at your throat.

“Yes, anything.” You answered almost breathlessly, watching his hands open up the cloak to expose your shoulders, the skin of your thighs poking out where the dress had bunched up even more.

“You might think me wicked but, I thought about what it would be like to kiss you.” His hand trailed down as he spoke, rubbing at your thighs over your dress and you watched them in the low light of the moon, mesmerized.

“You’ve kissed me before Sir, you could kiss me now.” You turned a little more but he stopped you.

“I wasn’t thinking about kissing your mouth lovely girl, I was thinking about kissing you somewhere else.” His hands slowly gathered the fabric of your dress, bunching it in his fist - lifting it inch by inch to bare your legs to him. “May I show you where I want to kiss you?” He stopped but you clung onto his arms around you.

“Yes - please show me.” You felt is other hand join the fray and soon he had exposed your lower half to the cool night air. Your undergarments were damp you knew it - the arousal pooling low in your belly at the thought that he might touch you where you most wanted him to. He didn’t disappoint.

His hand trailed up your inner thigh lightly, slowly, up until he skillfully slid it into your undergarments. He groaned deep in his chest when he touched your bare sex.

“Right here. I long to kiss you, taste you here.” His touch was feather light on the lips of your womanhood, slipping along the seam of you. You whimpered, no one had ever touched you here and you felt the slick dripping out of you as you let him explore. “Would you let me Princess? Would you let me bury my tongue right here?” He dipped his fingers low, parting you slightly to dip his fingers just at the entrance - collecting your arousal onto his fingers before slipping them out and bringing them to his mouth behind you. You moaned at the sound of him sucking you off of them and you nodded frantically.

“Yes Din, I would let you - I’m yours.” You moaned the words and his other hand held you in place.

“And I am yours.” He responded before bringing his hand back to where you craved it, this time he spread the lips of your cunt open wide, honing his middle finger on the pearl of your sex. He rubbed tight, slow circles around it and you moaned - trying desperately to open your legs wider. He chuckled darkly behind you.

“Does that feel good Princess?” He turned your face with his other hand, twisting his upper body enough to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, not quite aligned but it sent a shiver of arousal through you and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher- his finger relentless as he sped up a little.

“Yes - Gods yes - it feels so good Din, I thought about you too.” You moaned the words into his mouth. “I think about you touching me like this, when I do it to myself.” He groaned at your confession, his tongue thick in your mouth when he kissed you again.

His finger dipped low to collect more wetness and the glide of it was just right, just slippery enough to send you over the edge and you almost screamed. Your body seizing up with pleasure as your sex clenched around nothing. He cooed into your ear as you rode it out.

“You are intoxicating my lovely one.” He kissed your neck, as he lowered your skirts.

You watched him, blissed out and boneless as he licked his fingers before grabbing the reins again and slowly making his way back to the palace.

-

Mila was snoring softly when you slipped into the room and you were careful not to wake her and as tired as you were from travel it took you a long time to fall asleep. Your heart full of love for Din and a hunger you couldn’t satiate filled your belly. It was a craving for his body, for his kisses, for physical love a woman shared with her husband. You fell asleep hoping - though secretly knowing- that he craved you the same way.

—-

As happy as you were when you awoke the next morning, it was quickly dampened - your father informed you that Poe was to arrive at the Palace as his honoured guest. That he was to stay for a time as a gesture of good will.

You saw right through it.

Your parents had decided that Poe was the suitor they wanted for you and they weren’t being at all subtle.

They informed you with big smiles on their faces, no doubt in hopes of pushing you towards him. It was exhausting - this constant reminder that you would never be truly free to live the life you wanted with Din.

When Poe arrived, he was happy - taking this as a sign that he was winning you over.

“Greetings Princess, I cannot tell you how happy I am to be able to spend more time with you.” He was all smiles and you had no choice but to smile back.

“It will be interesting for sure.” With the way you felt about Din, the intense desire to be around him was at the forefront of your mind. As well as the way Din behaved around Poe, it would definitely be interesting to say the least.

—

Your father invited Poe to dine at your private table, and he engaged him in conversation almost the whole night. They spoke of the future, of how Poe would help rule if he were indeed to marry you. Your mother smiled silently, happy to let the conversation center around the two of you.

Din stood still behind your fathers chair and you wanted nothing more than to pull him to sit with you. To talk to him, kiss him and feed him from your own plate.

“I would want to help people to be quite honest, extend a hand to those that aren’t as fortunate as us. There are people out there starving and that doesn’t sit right with me.” He was honest, to a fault like he said but you admired that.

“That’s very noble of you my boy.” The king nodded.

“It’s very honourable isn’t it my darling?” Your mother smiled at you and you smiled back, nodding around a bite of your food.

“I’m sure the Princess and I could do much and more to help the people who need it the most, if she would let me that is.” He had a shy, genuine smile for you, tentatively reaching over and taking your hand in his. You couldn’t very well snatch it back but you felt Din’s eyes burning into the interaction.

This could get messy.

“Princess, I would humbly ask that you accompany me for a walk through the grounds - chaperoned by your knight of course.” He asked as the remnants of the meal were taken away.

“Oh I’m sure she’d love to join you wouldn’t you sweetling?” Your mother cooed, and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes of course.” You let him guide you, Din following closely behind.

—

“I hope I’m not intruding - I know that the King and Queen are very keen for this to work between us.” He held your hand as you walked arm in arm and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Yes they are aren’t they.” Your tone came out a little more exasperated than you’d hoped but he was well aware that you were not to be swayed by him so easily, you knew he should expect some hesitancy from you.

“I understand that you aren’t impressed and that I am most likely not your first choice. For all I know you might already have your eye on someone else.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at Din. “Regardless of that Princess, I know this must be difficult for you but I beg of you to give me a chance to show you that there is potential here. I believe that in time you might come to love me.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

“You are selling yourself quite hard Poe, I appreciate that you understand that my feelings for you aren’t where you want them to be.” You looked up at him apologetically, expecting him to have a sad look on his face but he surprised you; he was smiling - content to listen to you speak.

“I know, it’s not in you right now but I believe you will see me in a different light. I have faith.” He left the conversation there.

——

It was hard to find time to meet with Din, Poe seemed to be everywhere and his determination seemingly had no bounds.

Your mother found you as you dressed for the day - she had a note from Poe. He was asking you to accompany him into town to hand out some supplies. You couldn’t refuse him, not when your mother had delivered it herself.

“Will Din accompany us?” You asked it offhand, your voice neutral - your face a mask of nonchalance.

“No your father is going on a hunt and Din will be protecting him, there will be other guards with you.” She said it with a shake of her hand as she searched your wardrobe for an appropriate dress. “This will do nicely.” She picked out an off the shoulder, deep berry coloured dress that was not at all practical for a day out in the city.

It would have to do.

-

He had taken you to an orphanage in the heart of the city. There were kids running around of all ages and the older ones ran towards Poe when you entered - recognizing him. He had a big smile on his face as they hugged him around the middle, all decorum forgotten.

“Poe did you bring us anything?” A boy of about twelve years was eager, looking around you to the entourage of guards waiting behind you.

“Of course, brought all of you some good stuff like I always do.” He ruffled the boys hair before he held his hand out to you, you smiled and stepped forward. “I have someone very special here with me today, this is the Princess. Come on over and say hello.” He called them over to you and you saw some of the little girls eyes light up. They flocked to you, asking you if you were indeed the Princess. Asked you if you had a crown, and most importantly why you were there. They were precious.

“She’s here to help just like I am.” Poe answered for you.

A little girl of about six pulled on your dress and you lowered yourself slightly to be at her level.

“Princess, I like your dress, you’re so pretty.” She was smiling at you, her hair was a tangle but her eyes were bright.

“Thank you sweetling, you are much prettier I must say.” You moved the hair out of her eyes and she smiled wide, her little hand clutching at a makeshift cloth doll.

You helped Poe hand out toys and new clothes and there was food for them to eat. You spent the day playing with them and learning about their lives. The women who ran the orphanage knew him and you saw that all of the talk of helping the less fortunate was real, he had already been doing much more than you had ever even imagined.

It was hard to deny the little spark of something that he held within you.

He was handsome, he was kind and smart- funny and generous and with the way his eyes found yours throughout the day; he felt something for you. His eyes were piercing, dark and mysterious and for the first time, he gave you butterflies.

One of the little ones was showing you his space within the building, his bed and his tiny toy horse. He was waxing poetic about how one day he would be a knight. You were smiling at him when Poe stood next to you, his gaze heavy and it sent a flush crawling up your neck to light up your ears.

The fabric at his neck was crumpled and you couldn’t help but reach up to fix it, your arm extended over to him and his gaze focused on it, reached up to hold it to his neck. He placed a delicate kiss to your bicep and pulled you closer. The act was small, but so intimate it did something to you. Melted a tiny piece of you that up until now was frozen to him and he saw it on your face. Felt it in the way you let him hold you close, your arm still around his neck, his hand moving down to hold onto your waist.

The little boy was in front of you now, asking Poe if he would ever give him a real horse and he laughed, not unkindly.

“One day my boy, one day I will give you a horse - only if you promise to behave and be on your best behaviour. Can you do that?” The little boy nodded sagely promising he would. You didn’t pull your arm away, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

—-

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[earlgreydream]

doubts.

| loki x reader | fluff |

anon requested. loki kinda degraded sub!reader and she scrunches up all tiny and sobs afterwards because she thought he meant what he said

cw: slightly smutty, slightly angsty

You begged Loki to let you come, fighting against the magical restraints your dom had placed around your wrists and ankles. 

“Oh, you want to come so bad you’re crying? You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?” Loki sneered, the words sending arousal pooling deep in your belly, even though you fought against it. Your body jolted at the slap administered to your inner thigh, a pained cry escaping your lips. 

You’d been acting up and testing Loki’s patience, which is what earned you this punishment, your pleasure being dangled in front of you, just out of reach. You’d broken his rules, and he’d had enough of your attitude. 

“Come now before I change my mind,” Loki’s tone was dangerous, and the pressure inside of you shattered. He followed your lead, finishing inside of you before he pulled out and made the restraints vanish. 

As the pleasure wore off, his words echoing in your mind, You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?

Loki stood off of the bed, going to run you a hot shower. As soon as he’d stepped away, a sob tore through your chest, your shoulders heaving as you cried. You curled up in a ball, feeling small and alone on his massive bed. 

Loki heard you crying, and he felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He abandoned the shower and ran to your side, kneeling down on the bed. You looked so tiny and fragile, folding in on yourself. His chest ached when he heard your soft sounds and saw the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your hair, trying to self-soothe. He reached out to pull your hands away, wanting to keep you from anxiously tearing the hair from your sensitive head.

“My darling-” his voice cracked when you jerked away from him. You hiccuped on your broken sobs as they wrecked you, emotion flooding every last thought and turning you into a mess. 

Loki’s magic sparked around you, cleaning you up and leaving you both in loose clothing. The green shimmer surrounded you, Loki’s fruitless attempt to touch you without frightening you. It was warm, and seemed to buzz with its own life, but didn’t make you feel any better. 

“My darling, have I hurt you? Tell me whatever is wrong so that I may fix it,” Loki begged, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms. 

“Don’t touch me, please,” you tried to catch your breath, wanting to get your keys and leave. 

He sank back, giving you space. His eyes were concerned and sad, and he fought against the urge to pierce into your mind, ripping the truth from you. The door vanished from the wall as you tried to run out, and you whipped around to face the god, who was kneeling on the bed and looking wounded. There was no exit, Loki keeping you contained to the bedroom until your devastation was resolved. 

“Y/N, I won’t let you leave when you’re so upset. You cannot drive safely. If you wish, I can take you anywhere you want to go,” Loki fretted, and though you knew he was right, you only grew more and more upset. 

“Come to me, darling,” Loki opened his arms, the authority in his voice making you comply. You knew this was a fight you couldn’t win. You’d end up in Loki’s arms confessing your pain whether by his will, or your own.

Your sobs broke his heart, and he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down into his lap. He held you firmly, and eventually your struggling subsided as you let yourself weep against his chest. 

“Please don’t make me pry the truth out of you,” Loki begged softly into your hair. He didn’t want to add to your pain, he only wanted to fix it. He was very aware that sifting through your mind to take your private thoughts was something that made you feel extremely violated. He wanted you to tell him on your own, but he wouldn’t let you keep such heartbreaking secrets from him. 

“Y-you... did you mean what you said about me? That I was pathetic, and d-desperate and a whore?” You sobbed out, stammering over your words.

“Oh, oh my goodness. My darling, I am so sorry. I never meant any of that. I thought you understood I just said it in the scene... please my love, I adore you more than all of the stars. Never think you are not the most perfect, beautiful, eloquent, and lovely person in my eyes. I love you, I will never say such horrible things again.” Tears flowed freely down Loki’s face. You were startled, unused to seeing raw emotion from him, especially not guilt. It hadn’t occurred to you that the words Loki had spoken were just part of the scene, part of the sex you were having. He wasn’t typically fond of degradation, but he was experimenting in the moment, never expecting it to be received as genuine. 

There was no room for doubt in his words. He meant his love then, and he would spend the rest of his life proving his love to you.

His strong arms cradled you against his body, trying to hold you together.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he breathed apologies like a repetitive prayer.

You listened to his heartbeat, letting the rhythm slow your racing mind. Your sobs eventually subsided, calmed by the steady circles of his hand on your back.

“I forgive you,” your lips moved against the underside of his jaw.

“Please always stop me, tell me then, if anything at all makes you feel even the slightest bit unsafe. I never want you to feel this way again, certainly not at my fault,” Loki begged, and you nodded before burying your face back in him.

“Do you still love me?”

“I love you the most,” you promised.

Loki talked you into staying the night, doting on you to the point you were almost smothered. His magic conjured everything you wanted, even in the back of your thoughts.

“Do you want to go get some?” He asked, and you turned, tilting your head in confusion.

“To Paris. For the macarons.”

“You’re reading my thoughts,” you sighed softly, but a smile graced your expression as you kissed him.

“No, I’m sleepy. Maybe tomorrow?” You asked, and he nodded, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you back to bed.

You situated yourself in his arms, your back against his chest. His larger frame shielded you, wrapping you in safety and warmth. You slept soundly with him, the pain and uncertainty from the afternoon long gone and replaced by his love.

The smell of coffee rose you out of your sleep. Your eyes took a few moments to adjust to the soft light spilling in through the windows, and you sat up, suddenly realizing you weren’t in Loki’s bedroom at his apartment, where you’d fallen asleep.

“Loki?!” You called, and he leaned in the doorway.

“Good morning. I didn’t mean to frighten you. We took a short trip in your sleep. We’re at my Paris flat.”

You smiled, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned. Loki put a coffee in your hands, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“If I cry will you spoil me more often?” You teased lightly, and he shot you his signature dom look of warning, making you shudder.

“It breaks my heart to see you cry, my darling,” Loki’s tone was apologetic, guilt still left over from the day before. You squeezed his arm as you sipped your coffee.

“I’m okay,” you swore, earning another kiss from your lover.

“Mm. Finish that up and we’ll go to the patisserie down the street.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled, happy you were cheered up and back to normal. He moved his fingers and a pretty sundress appeared hanging on the back of the washroom door for you, delicate white flats placed below.

“Dressing me up like your little doll?”

“Careful, or I will dress you, after I get that attitude in line.”

“I love the dress. And I can put it on by myself,” you apologized, pecking his lips before walking to the bathroom.

You returned in the sundress, a white beret adorning your head along with it. You relished in the bright smile Loki rewarded you with. In a shimmer of green, he was dressed in pastels that matched your own. You loved to see him in casual clothes instead of the Asgardian armor he frequently wore, and he indulged you for this small Parisian vacation. 

“You look stunning, my darling.”

Giggles erupted from your lips, making Loki’s heart soften. He dipped his head down to kiss you, making your nose scrunch up in the cutest way that he loved. His long, slender fingers folded with yours, holding your hand as the two of you made your way out of the flat and onto the bustling street. You were thankful for the sunny weather, greatly improving your mood from the rough night in New York’s rain. 

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” you nodded.

“Let’s get some crepes. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Loki.”

The young god pecked your lips before pushing you inside of a patisserie. 

“Salut,” the girl working called to the two of you as the bell clinged on the door.

“Darling, what would you like? We can take some macarons to go,” Loki asked, pointing to the pastries behind the glass.

You chose a few, and Loki rattled off your order in French to the shopkeeper, taking the bag from her and moving you to sit at a table in the corner for your crepes. 

“Can we stay in Paris for a couple of days? Just us, not any of the distractions from New York,” you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder and accepting the bite he fed you. 

“Most certainly.” He kissed the sugar off of your lips before the two of you left for a park with your snacks for later. Loki held your hand as you walked along a low stone wall beside him, your eyes level with the extra height. 

“Y/N, you must know that you are so, so terribly loved.”

You turned and snaked your arms around his neck, looking deep into his crystal blue eyes.

“I do not doubt your love, Loki.”

[cherriedzoro]

hi cherry and congrats congrats!! for your event could i possibly get prompt 7 for sanji? thank you!

hi sailoo, so sorry it took so long but this is the final request from the event thank you for your patience and kind words! :)

tws implied insomnia, not proofread 722 words 3912 characters

want to read my other works check them out here, want to request something look here!

teacup sanji x reader

a small sigh escapes your lips before finally deciding that sleep wasn't going to be kind to you tonight. though spending countless hours tossing and turning throughout the night nothing had seemed to help.

taking a glance at the clock to read the time set at 3:21 am you debated with yourself for a moment before deciding too see if he was still up, how badly you wished he was still awake.

it wouldn't be unusual to find sanji in the kitchen around this hour doing some last minute meal preparation or making sure luffy didn't some how manage find his way to the fridge before heading off to bed.

preparing to leave the shelter of warmth your cozied room provided against the rather harsh cold that rested on the sunny, you wrap a blanket around your shoulders and begin to make your way across the deck towards the ships kitchen.

quietly pushing open the door to see sanji washing dishes likely used for his meal preparation relief floods over you and a small smile folds at the corners of your mouth.

"is something wrong my love?" sanji says the moment he notices your presence quickly turning his attention to you after disregarding the dishes and wiping his hands off on small towel he had sit on the counter.

pulling out a chair to have a seat at the dining table that sat in the center of the kitchen you managed to quietly mutter "sorry to bother you sanji, i can't sleep." to him, a small pink dusting your cheeks.

sanji frowns upon hearing your words and makes his way over to the cabinet to pull out a kettle. "that simply won't do, someone as stunning as you needs their rest." he says before filling the kettle up with warm water and allowing it rest on the stove.

"tea?" the blonde asks you with concern scribbled all over his usually bright features.

you nod your head in response as you watch the blonde begin to prepare the tea. "it'll take a few minutes before it's ready." sanji says bringing his lighter up to his cigarette taking a quick exhale of smoke.

"thanks sanji." you say flashing him a warm smile, oh how much he swore your smile could kill him. how thrilled he was to be the reason you were smiling so fondly.

"anything for you!" sanji exclaims as he adjusts the burners heat, being careful not to burn the tea that was beginning to simmer.

"is something bothering you?" the blonde speaks after what seems to be centuries of comforting silence.

"ah well," you pause for a moment watching as sanji pulls the kettle off the stove and pours two cups, soon placing a teacup in front of you and having a seat beside you.

"no, it's nothing." you say staring down at the liquid deciding you didn't feel like getting into it.

sanji sends you a questioning look but decides not to pry taking a small sip from his teacup.

"this is great sanji!" you say to the blonde after bringing the warm tea up to your lips.

you can't help the warmth in your chest at sanji memory, he had made your favorite kind of tea.

sanji smiles at your praise, "i'm glad it's to your liking." he says bringing his own cup over to the sink after finishing the beverage.

"here let me take you to bed, it's getting far to late." sanji offers after you had finished your tea and talked to him about various things for a bit.

you agree, taking your hand into his own as he quietly guides you across the deck the sky painted in many different stars.

finally arriving at the entrance to your room sanji pushes the door open for you, surprised when you don't enter and turn to tug on his shoulder.

"will you lay with me? i don't think i can sleep without you." you mutter almost un understandably, looking down at the wooden floor in hopes to avoid eye contact with him.

sanji's heart flutters at your words as he nods his head, soon finding himself tucked under the warmth of your blankets holding you close to his chest as the ship silently rocks against the waves.

surely now you'd find yourself able to drift to sleep.

[xxsycamore]

𝐵𝐼𝑅𝒯𝐻𝒟𝒜𝒴 𝐹𝒪𝑅 𝒯𝒲𝒪

A/N: Happy Birthday, dear @queengiuliettafirstlady !! This is my gift for you, a person who not only happens to share a birthday with her ikepri best boy, but also is just as big of a sunshine as him. I've already sent all my wishes to you, but I want to tell you once again that you're one of the nicest, strongest, most loving, most creative people I know - I LOVE YOU JULIE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! ❤❤❤🎉🎉🎉

luke randolph x reader (who shares the same bday as him)

rating: G

tags: Surprise Birthday Party, Birthday cakes, fluff, humor, featuring also Leon, Yves, Jin as well as the other princes!

wordcount: 1,482

masterlist

It's a new day in Rhodolite and you welcome it with a lazy yawn, stretching out the luxurious 9 hours of sleep from your well-rested muscles. You snuggle closer to your boyfriend Luke, caressing him gently in order to wake him up.

You've been told by Leon to go into the garden first thing in the morning today… Well, judging from the position of the sun which is seeping in warm rays through the window's curtains, it's a little before noon already. But, you're sure the ever-so-thoughtful Leon has already taken Luke's laziness into consideration. And, just because it is highly contagious, your own as well.

The mass of entangled sheets and amber hair locks produces a deep bear-like rumble. Instead of disturbing the slumber of a beast, you feel like you're merely teasing a cute napping bear cub, so you continue.

Luke opens his gentle green eyes at last, droopy and heavy with sleep, and eyes you with the cutest pout on his lips. You can't see how his expression changes when he shoves you close to his chest in a cuddle, but you're guessing that pout is fast to melt away to a content, lazy smile.

Only for the pout to return anew when you remind him that you two have to get out of bed and get ready.

After helping each other get dressed and nearly dozing off a couple of times in the meanwhile, you and Luke are entering the sunny garden at last. Leon has instructed you to head towards the resting area with the sofas, so that's exactly in which direction you tug Luke by the hand. Seeing the bright smile on your face as you walk by his side, he is hardly able to complain about being dragged into everything as long as it includes you.

The idle conversation you have with him soon gets forgotten because of the sight in front of you. You blink in confusion, and from the corner of your eye you catch Luke being equally as puzzled.

The resting area in the garden has been transformed into some kind of party venue - colorful garlands hanging from the surrounding tall rosebush-lined fences, tables with food and drinks placed around….and, a mini-crowd. A mini crowd of princes.

Leon is first to notice you approaching and claps his hands with a smirk on his face. Amidst the sudden chaos you failed to notice the two chairs-no, thrones?!- situated right in the middle. Until Leon drags you to them, and respectively, Luke gets dragged as well.

He prompts you to take a seat on the makeshift thrones and as he does, the mini-crowd starts singing the familiar lines of Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday to You!

You gasp in realization and turn your head to Luke, who is gasping as well. When it sinks that it is, indeed, your birthday today, which means it is Luke's birthday, too - you stand up from your throne to throw your arms around your boyfriend. Under the sounds of the cheerful tune, Luke's excitement gets the best of him and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips - which earns a round of applause to finish the song with, along with a whistle that you recognize as Jin's.

Yves barely waits for the song to finish until he adapts that painfully familiar but always funny expression of utter shock on his beautiful features.

"Both of them? THEY BOTH FORGOT?!"

Jin pats Yves' shoulder soothingly through laughter. "That's what we are for, isn't that right?"

Your gaze is shifting from one person to another, still fairly surprised.

"Would anyone explain what is happening here? Why are we sitting in this?"

While you're busy asking, Clavis has snuck behind you and you only catch a glimpse of what looks like a paper crown being lifted and then placed on your head, Luke receiving the same treatment in another second. Leon is quick to answer, rolling his shoulders at you like it's obvious.

"Just preparing you two for the life of Rhodolite's King and Queen. The celebrations are going to be much more lavish that that, you know."

Similar to your initial reaction before, this time you and Luke sigh in unison. Is this really necessary? With the coronation ceremony being just behind the corner, there are already enough reminders of the busy times that are ahead of you. Luke reads the good intentions behind Leon's humorous explanation, and smiles.

"Maybe we can get away with much less hassle… if I'm a King I should be able to change the rules-"

"Luke, no."

Everyone laughs at Licht's sudden concern expressed in a flat voice. Jin finishes off where Leon started while helping himself to a drink from the table.

"We figured you two would prefer a celebration held in a more narrow circle. A quick talk with Sariel and he let us prepare this for you." Seeing that you're just on the verge of exploding in gratitude, Jin raises his hand to tell you to hold on.

"If I were on you, I wouldn't hurry with the thank-you's before I've seen it all. Service, please!"

Despite Yves' obvious displeasure about being bossed around, upon Jin's signal he pushes a food cart into view. On top of it is one of the most beautiful pastries Yves has created so far - and you're definitely not exaggerating because of the sudden realization of what exactly it is. It's a two-tier cake - not just a cake, a honey cake, the best cake flavor known to humankind, at least according to you and the man sitting next to you. Somewhere between the fascination of the mouthwatering aroma and the cute little edible bumblebees on top, you don't know just when did you get up from your seat to give Yves a big hug, not letting him finish the verbal presentation of the cake. Soon, the weight of Luke is on Yves' shoulders as well, sending the poor fifth prince through a whirlwind of emotions, his ego being stroked but his cheeks turning pink with all the attention.

Behind your back, you can hear the bunch throwing a fit about Yves taking all the love and gratitude for himself… though, they should've seen it coming when honey is mentioned in front of the royal couple.

Feeding Luke cake is a delight to your heart. And Luke feeding you cake in return is equally as such, as it is a delight to your belly. Even if it's a little embarrassing in front of the guys, you feel comfortable in Luke's presence as it almost feels like it's only the two of you when he looks into your eyes like that - the rest of the world is quick to blur away. The party seems to be just beginning, because music comes to your ears and an invitation for dance is quick to come - from none other than Leon. You turn to your boyfriend to ask if it's alright, and he mutters something among the lines, "you're lucky that I'm still busy with the cake." But that's only for show, you figure, because he leans in close to your ear to whisper something.

"I want you only for myself later…"

Cheeks starting to burn on an instant, you stare at him for cues - is this about dancing? Or is he trying to say something else…?

Your boyfriend is only giving you his most adorable expression, fork in his mouth, as he prompts you to go.

Leon's gentlemanly lead clears off your mind just a little, and Jin whisking you away right out of his grasp for another dance is putting laughter in your mouth. Having fun from the bottom of your heart, the only reason that you'd ever want this party to have an end could possibly be in order to be alone with Luke again. To slow dance in some more private part of the garden, when the sun drops low and the soft candlelight is all around you, or even later on, when smiling faces bid you goodnight and Luke takes you by the hand, leaving the garden in the same fashion as you came there.

Or, even later than that, much later, when you're done fighting the nervousness and the excitement, and you present your gift to Luke, revealing that truly, you've remembered what day it is all along. And maybe the curious little you who had accidentally found his own gift for you a few weeks prior but kept quiet, would manage not to cry out of happiness a second time. The tightening of your belly on the thought of all those strong emotions that your boyfriend, soon-to-be-husband evokes in you, makes you question how such happiness is possible. For now, you decide to breathe in deeply, and let your heart be light as you enjoy yourself to your heart's content today.

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