#tree sways in the wind and i think it must be so nice to be so firmly planted yet so free and graceful.

[queerstudiesnatural]

i just love love. i love to feel love. sometimes i find myself overflowing with love. it's purifying and intoxicating at the same time. i love love.

[vennilavee]

Petrichor

pairing: stsg, geto x reader, gojo x reader, stsg x reader

summary: In the middle of the lush forest, there sits a lonely house on a hill. On a dark and rainy night, you find your way to the house and it's inhabitants while running away from a deep, dark secret that you refuse to confront. Little do you know that they welcome you with open arms because they want you in a way that you’ve never been wanted before. It’s so easy to succumb to the darkness once you’ve been invited in…

warnings: this is meant to be a horror fic so please heed with caution - vampire geto, ghost gojo, smut, biting, drinking of blood, bloodplay, unreliable narrators, murder, death and dying, suicide, everyone is a little freaky here including oc, yandere behaviors (i think??)

word count: 15k

a/n: meant to be written for spooky season in october...happy new year do not perceive me. HUGE thank you to @lovenona @libroparaiso @hoennislands for reading large chunks of this fic before i posted it, and @lovenona for the painting for the fic banner! i appreciate u<3

To add to an already terrible day, heavy and dark storm clouds cover the expanse of the sky before splitting open. Rain follows the split seam, pelting down and landing on your car before being met with your windshield wipers.

It’s a good thing you had your tires replaced recently, you think distractedly while tightening your grip on the wheel. 

The rumble of your car’s engine is the only noise you hear as you zip through the barely there road in the forest. There are no cars on this road. There are no lights, save for the high beams bursting from your car.

It feels as if you are going in circles, despite the GPS telling you that you are on the right path. You can barely see five feet ahead of you as the rain begins to downpour. You hate driving in storms. 

Perhaps you should pull over, rather than potentially wrap your car around a tree while trying to get out of this storm. Can you beat it? Can you beat the ominous clap of thunder and the bright streak of lightning? 

In the distance, you hear the winds picking up speed as the towering trees sway. The last thing you need is to die because a tree fell on you. 

All you were trying to do was clear your head with a nice, soothing drive after what can only be described as the worst week of your life. The weather forecast didn’t include heavy rain with zero visibility today. You must just be incredibly lucky.

Driving in this weather will surely result in your premature death. You make a split second decision and pull over to the side of the road, glancing at the umbrella in your passenger seat.

You scoff, stepping out into the darkness and further into the belly of the forest.

Night has fully draped over the forest and yet, the rain has not relented. You must have been walking, following your GPS for hours now. And yet, it seems as if you continue to walk further and further away from the road.

You are drenched and shivering, possibly looking like a drowned animal as you trek through the mud and fallen branches. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to return to your car. There is no way to tell what direction it’s in anyway.

So you continue on, shivering with the hood of your jacket covering your head and cursing the skies for leaving you stranded in this endless storm. Your phone vibrates with weather alerts indicating that you should seek shelter due to extreme flooding.

How ironic.

Your umbrella is long gone, proving to be useless with the force of the rain and the wind. You are completely alone in the lush, green forest. Perhaps you stop and appreciate the scent of petrichor if you weren’t so stuck and at the mercy of the unseen forces from above.

You don’t know how much you endure the walk, but you see something in the distance. Something warm, something like the light. 

A tall, dark house sits on a hill barely visible with the darkness of the night. But you can clearly see the warmth of the lights that emanate from inside the house. 

It feels like a reprieve, a lighthouse as you are lost at sea. So you run towards the warmth.

The house is more of a mansion, you realize as you stand in front of the ornate, mahogany door. Green vines twist around the door as if to protect the house from any trespassers. They seem to pulsate when you touch them, hissing at you in an attempt to send you away.

You shiver again.

Lilies and red roses line the entryway to the front door. Despite the remote location of this strange mansion, clearly someone maintains the upkeep of it.

You’ve never seen a viridian so vibrant. It’s hard to take your eyes away from it, tracing the way drops fall from the vines onto the stark white lilies before dripping onto the meticulously carved stone pathway.

The rain pours down on you heavily, and it rolls off of your trembling shoulders. It feels dry here, like the sun is gently peering out. This strange mansion must be an oasis, or a safe haven for those lost in the woods.

You knock on the door impatiently, hoping that someone, anyone, can save you from the storm. A crack of thunder splits your ears and you jump, knocking again.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter under your breath, “Please, it’s freezing-”

The magnificent door creaks loudly before being pulled open dramatically, only to reveal a tall, white haired man with striking and absurdly blue eyes.

You can’t look directly at him for too long. You think you’ll be blinded.

“How annoying,” he drawls, “Annoying and impatient.”

“My car broke down,” you interrupt, your teeth chattering, “Please, I’m so cold-”

“Oh?” he looks you up and down several times over with an infuriating, smug grin on his stupidly handsome face.

“Can you please assess whether I’m a thief or a murderer or anything equally as dramatic while I’m inside?” you say, glaring at him, “I’ve been walking for hours, please let me in until the storm passes over. I’m begging you.”

“You’re lucky you’re so charming when you beg,” he says, waving you in.

Warmth immediately engulfs you and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Didn’t you call for help?”

“My phone has no service,” you reply easily, staring him right in the eye.

“No service, What a shame. I suppose it cannot be helped,” he shrugs, “Didn’t you hear? This storm is supposed to last several days. You must be a fool for driving through this.”

“I guess so-”

“Especially in the forest. You never know what’s lurking around here.”

His smile fades and he looks at you pointedly, as if he’s looking straight through you. His gaze unnerves you but still, it takes you half a second to decide you’re staying here in the dry warmth. 

Besides, it’s not like you have anywhere to go.

“Gojo Satoru,” he says simply and begins walking away from you. Does he care to know the name of a complete stranger that he just let into his home? 

“Aren’t you afraid of strangers? Have you learned nothing from the movies? I could kill you when your back is turned,” you reply as you follow behind him.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Gojo laughs, but it sounds hollow as it echoes through the hall.

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re stuck in the middle of this horrendous storm with only me and the inhabitants of this house for company. You think I have reason to fear you?”

Gojo Satoru stops walking and abruptly turns to face you, crowding your vision. He speaks to you, but you’re not quite listening. You’re too enchanted by the odd blue of his eyes. Eyes that bright and deep simply do not exist beyond the walls of this house.

You think you may drown if you stare for too long. Gojo’s skin is pale, even when the lights hit the angles of his handsome face. Maybe there is a halo around his head, invisible to your eye. After all, he is the only semblance of a human that you have encountered in the last six hours. 

He must be an angel, sent to shepherd you through this storm.

Inhabitants. Gojo mentioned other inhabitants, but you have yet to see anyone else in the house. Despite the emptiness of the house, it looks homey and cozy, with trinkets and odd items strewn about. It is clear that someone lives here. Someone other than Gojo.

You try not to let curiosity get the best of you and just focus on getting warm. With chattering teeth, you allow scalding hot water to drench your skin and your hair. Trying to catch your breath as you shake like a leaf under the spray.

All alone in a strange house in the middle of nowhere with no escape. It’s enough to make anyone nervous, but you welcome it like a reprieve. A second chance. A rebirth.

You brace yourself against the wall of the shower and watch absently as blood mixes with water into the drain. 

Wholly unaware of the pair of eyes watching you in the bath, you sigh heavily as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders. It is. Everything is-

No. You won’t think about it, not now.

You can’t feel the graze of his fingertips, not when he caresses the slope of your neck or presses his fingertips to your hips. Not even when he rubs the inside of your soft thighs, or flutters over your calves just to feel the warmth of your skin. He traces the curvature of your spine with the palm of his hand, while you are none the wiser.

He stands in front of you, admiring the way you turn your neck from side to side and rub your sore muscles. Will you let your hands drift downwards? Would you give him that reprieve?

Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, spilling into his palms without any misgivings. He’d nearly forgotten how velvety a woman’s skin was. Much less a human’s. A gasp leaves his lips as he massages your chest, meeting your eyes eagerly. But you can’t see him. 

Your cheeks are heated as you lather soap on your skin with hooded eyes and bitten lips. He leans closer, sniffing your neck- you smell divine, what a gorgeous gift you might be…

And then he is called away abruptly, lamenting that loss of your warmth curled away in his hands.

A dark emerald silk robe lays on the pristinely made bed. It’s buttery and soft against your fingertips and it looks brand new. You can’t help but try it on, and somehow it fits you as if it was tailored for you. It’s perfect. You do a little spin in front of the full-length mirror and giggle to yourself, marveling at how it fits you perfectly. 

The guest bedroom he showed you to is massive, with ornate cherry wood furniture and a four poster bed that seems like it was custom made.

The warm scent of sandalwood remains on the duvet and on the pillows as you sink into the bed and try to get comfortable. It’s been such a long day and you just want to rest…

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep in this odd house despite only having been here for a few hours. The storm rages on outside, rain battering against the windows as it lulls you into the first peaceful slumber you’ve had in months.

It has been a long time since a human showed up drenched, terrified and shivering to his home. In the modern age, it seemed that less and less people would venture this deep into the forest. In the old days, it would have been the odd traveler or warriors passing by through the night or a woman running away from her betrothed.

Those were always his favorite visitors. These days, it’s usually just foolish, inebriated teenagers or a stray fox. Definitely not nearly as entertaining.

He remains hidden, until Gojo tells him to come out of the shadows. For now, he will remain content to watch you from a distance in his own home. Your shoulders are tense but your face is friendly as you chat away with the white-haired man as you nurse a warm cup of tea in your hands.

You keep him at arm’s length but not too far away so as to arouse suspicion from the man who gave you shelter during such a horrendous storm.

It smells so sweet inside now. Like nectar and honey and flowers. He had a feeling that dark green would be your color, anyway.

There is a portion of the house that Gojo has warned you to not enter. About half of the house is dimly lit, a sharp contrast to the rest of the house that you have seen. The quietness of the hallway just a few short steps away from your bedroom is eerie. 

You can’t help but look beyond the threshold and into the darkened hallway. 

With the risen moon in the storm as your witness, you ignore Gojo Satoru’s voice in your head and take a few tentative steps towards the forbidden part of the house.

The bedroom at the end of the hall.

It’s not your fault. He shouldn’t have made it sound so enticing.

An owl hoots in the distance, just outside the house. Is the storm still devastating the forest? It’s awfully quiet. Save for your clumsy footsteps. How long has it been? A night? Three?

Darkness is your only company as your heart thunders in your ears and you push against the heavy wooden door. A single turn of the knob reveals that the door is in fact, unlocked. 

You exhale, very aware of the hairs standing at the back of your neck. Turning your head, you squint into the darkness. Trying to shake the inevitable feeling of being watched in this endless abyss of a hallway.

You have to know. You must know why this room is forbidden to you.

So you push the door open with your full strength, only to be met with even more darkness. Somehow, it’s a different kind of darkness. The kind of darkness that swallows you and does not spit you back out. The kind that you surrender to.

Surrender comes easily.

Your pupils cannot seem to adjust to the dark, no matter how long you stand here in the forbidden room. Waiting for something - anything - a stream of moonlight, a flicker of a candle. Instead, you stand in the middle of this airy room, one that you can’t see even five feet in front of you in.

A shiver rips down your spine as the door slams shut with a sudden gust of wind from a seemingly closed window whips around you, only for the air to remain perfectly still and breathless.

Amethyst eyes stare back at you in the unmoving darkness. Mirth is clear in these eyes and your shock is amusing, it appears.

“Can’t follow instructions, can you?” The voice is syrupy and magnetic. You hear the voice, beckoning you closer, but you cannot see where the voice is coming from. 

He is illuminated by a sudden flash of thunder just by the large French windows. 

This is what Gojo must have meant by inhabitants.

The stranger stalks towards you, his steps languid and sure. You’re frozen in place, unable to move. Too mesmerized by the gold flecks in his violet eyes, and the curtain of glossy, black hair that billows with each step he takes.

Light does not need to brighten his face for him to announce his presence.

“Not great at following rules, are we?”

“Rules?” you manage to reply after a beat, squeezing your fingers together in an attempt to ground yourself. He notices, a barely there smirk forming on his handsome face.

He towers over you like a god of the skies, with the moon as his crown.

“You were told not to come here, weren’t you?” His voice is coated by soft velvet, curling around you but leaving you cold.

“Gojo’s told you about me?” you ask curiously. He talks about you? To this chiseled stranger? The thought makes your heart flutter and heat to flood your cheeks.

“I know all about the lost women who seek sanctuary in my home,” he says softly, a hand curling around your jaw. Your eyes drift to his glossy lips briefly. It’s impossible for you to look away from him, his eyes are magnetizing as they stare right through you. As if you are made of glass.

He chuckles.

The erratic beating of your heart thrums in his ears as blood rushes through your veins like syrup. He licks his lips as your eyes drop to follow his tongue eagerly. 

What a foolish girl. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already rubbing your thighs together. His reflection looks back at him in your glossy, dark eyes.

Oh, you are exquisite, a divine little thing wrapped up in a bow. A gift given to him by his lover. 

Gojo Satoru is a man of celestial tastes and he always has been for decades. He must remember to praise his lover on a job well done, after all. It’s not often that a woman with blood as sweet and ripe as yours falls into his bedroom serendipitously.

Your eyes are wide and wanting, waiting for him to say something. You just want to hear the melody of his voice once more. Just once more. Another few minutes until you leave his bedroom. Just once more.

His touch is icy cold as his thumb parts your lips further, a sharp exhale blowing against his face. A shiver wracks your spine once more but you will not leave his embrace. The simple touch makes you feel alive again, as if you have been searching and searching for something for years but have not been able to find it.

It feels familiar and foreign.

“Go back to bed, girl,” he says dismissively.

“Can’t I stay? With you?” you ask unabashedly, reaching for his velvet, black robe. You catch a sliver of his tanned chest from underneath his robe and swallow.

He is vaguely reminded of a stray kitten, desperate for attention. Adorable, and pathetic.

“Not yet,” he replies, disappearing back into the darkness that he emerged from with a featherlight touch to your cheek, “Not yet.”

His voice echoes through the walls of the grand bedroom, bouncing off of the ornate paintings. You leave the room, wondering if the enigmatic man with purple eyes was merely just a dream conjured up by the wildest parts of your subconscious.

Time must operate on a different frequency in this house. You’ve slept at least six nights here, and yet the storm is as vengeful as it was the first day you arrived at the house. There is no sign of the storm easing up, either. With no end in sight, you continue to explore the house, thoughts of your car long forgotten.

You’ve yet to come across the purple-eyed man again.

Gojo Satoru is the best company you’ve had in weeks. Possibly months, or years. He finds you in the library more often than not, or in the garden. 

The garden that seemingly has not been marred by the wicked winds of the storm. Somehow, the house stands still, impervious to mother nature.

“What are you reading today?” comes a voice far too close to your ear. Gojo Satoru loves invading your personal space, as you’ve come to learn.

“It’s a history book,” you reply, not looking up from the page you’re on. He doesn’t need to know, but you’ve stopped reading the page ever since you noticed him appear in the room. You’ve been waiting for him to stop by, as he always does.

“How absolutely fascinating,” he says, sitting next to you and pushing the book aside to lay his head on your lap, “Now you have something nicer to look at.”

“Is that so?”

You look down at him, once again startled by the blue of his eyes. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, it always takes your breath away. It takes a moment to adjust to the unnatural hue of his eyes and his stark white hair.

He smiles at you. At that moment, he looked so boyish and young. You wonder how long he’s been here.

“You’ve made quite a home for yourself here, haven’t you,” he muses.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you don’t sound particularly troubled by it.

“Not at all. Don’t you want to get back home? I’m sure you have people wondering where you are. A child? A spouse?” he probes, eyebrows raising when your heart quickens at the mention of a spouse.

“He’s not waiting or wondering where I am,” you say bitterly, immediately tensing up, “He never loved me.”

“I’m sure he’s worried about you-”

“No. He’s not,” you say with a note of finality. You look away, at your hands in your lap as your face falls and something far away settles on your features. Your lips tug into a slight frown. 

“Well, anyone would be lucky to have you love them. He wasn’t worthy,” Gojo soothes you with a comforting squeeze of your hands.

“No, he wasn’t,” you reply. Your eyes are glassy and distant, as if you are replaying a memory of your past in your mind. It was simple, until it wasn’t. You were enough, until you weren’t. “I am deserving of a lover who would do anything for me.”

“Of course you are, darling,” he says, sitting up and tilting your chin up to meet your eyes, “I’m sorry anyone convinced you otherwise.”

You turn toward him, meeting his gaze with big, watery eyes. Your hands are held tightly within his, as you lean towards him. Allowing your gaze to flicker to his pouty lips and back to his eyes.

“You deserve a lover who would write you love letters,” he murmurs, “Compare you to the moon’s beauty.” A kiss to your chin. “Be your lighthouse in the storm.” A kiss to your cheek. “Protect you from the darkness of the world by destroying it. Keep you safe,” A kiss to your eyelid. “A lover who would do anything for you.” A kiss to the corner of your lips.

“A lover who would kill for you.”

A final barely there kiss to your lips. Your cheeks are warm, chest fluttering as you lean into him once more to press your lips to his again. He lays back against the couch so that you lay on top of him comfortably as you chase his kisses. You are impatient, your hands straying to his hair, to his chest to unbutton his shirt.

Your moans are soft in his ears, as if you haven’t been touched like this in forever. Gojo watches the pretty planes of your face shift as he focuses his energy on you, on gripping your hips and letting his hands wander over you before resting on your chest. Your heart is hammering away, soft and delicious.

He looks ethereal under you, fallen from the skies above. You can’t pull away, certainly not from the foreign look in his eyes. One that you’ve never seen before, not in your husband, not in previous lovers… It’s for you, the look of ripe, unbitten desire.

“Oh, you are a gorgeous thing, aren’t you?”

Your skin feels overheated- with too many layers covering the space between you and the man beneath you. You struggle to take your dress off, but Gojo replaces your fingers with his own.

“I’ll take care of you, won’t I? You’ll let me take care of you?”

You nod wordlessly as he lifts you up to take your dress off. You sit completely naked on top of him while he is still clothed.

Your face is buried in his neck as you rut your hips against him, trying to gain friction. Gojo looks up and to the side, feeling a pair of eyes on his back. Purple meets blue and he winks at his lover and smiles before turning his attention to you.

He hopes his dear lover is watching.

Geto Suguru is exhausted, deep within his centuries old bones. Blood does not come by the house as often as it used to, and while it would be just as easy to go to the nearest city to get his fill…

It does not hold the same pleasure anymore. Besides, when his lover is intent on finding him an everlasting source of blood, who is he to argue?

He is just so hungry, absolutely famished. It doesn’t help that a brilliant and beautiful damsel is sleeping in his home, just down the hall. He can hear your soft breaths and the rustle of the sheets as you twist and turn. Are you dreaming of him?

He supposes he can find out just as easily.

He enters your dreams with hardly any resistance from you. Your mind is malleable as he sifts through as if flipping pages of a book. There are patches of grey darkness melded in with hues of emerald and cerulean and amber as he takes a look around the essence of your mind. 

It’s almost as if your subconscious can sense his presence and clears a path for him.

There you are, standing in a cemetery surrounded by fallen leaves and dead trees. The sky is grey, fitting with the melancholy that surrounds the cemetery. A breeze in the air whistles through his hair and leads him to you.

Sitting in front of a tiny memorial with an odd smile on your face. 

Is this a dream, or is this a memory?

He makes a note of the name on the memorial, just as you lift your head and stare vacantly at him. Almost as if he’s made of glass and you are looking straight through him to the other side.

The dream shifts in a puff of smoke and he is suddenly in an apartment shrouded in shadows and darkness with nothing but the sounds of hoarse voices speaking loudly to each other. Not quite yelling, but not quite talking quietly either.

“... You never loved me, never made me a priority-”

“That’s not true and you know it-”

“You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you-”

“You have this version of love in your fucked up head that doesn’t exist. That nobody can live up to-”

“I just want you to love me and protect me!”

Then there is crying and harsh screaming. It grates against his eardrums before ebbing away into nothingness. 

Until he is flung into an ocean of blood and nearly drowns trying to get back into reality.

An envelope outside your bedroom door awaits you after your morning walk in the garden. It is addressed to you, with your name written in black ink in cursive with a large wax seal. You run your finger over the seal in awe.

Who exactly are the men who live in this house, anyway?

The letter reads: 

You are cordially invited to join me for dinner tonight, at 6:30 PM sharp. You will find three dresses in the closet of your bedroom. Choose wisely. 

I look forward to our evening together.

There is no signature, only initials embossed in the parchment paper in silky, black print. The initials are shiny and wet, as if it was just signed and placed under your bedroom door.

You hold the letter close to your chest, unable to keep the giddy smile off of your face. Ever since you were a young girl, you’ve always dreamed of a lover who would write you letters dictating their unconditional love for you.

You look at the letter again, tracing over the initials gently and press a gentle kiss to the ink. How utterly enchanting.

You decide on the muted mauve gown with tiny, shimmering stars embedded into the tulle. Will your mysterious dinner guest be happy with your choice? Which of the three dresses did he want to see you in?

Your heart flutters at the thought of seeing the long, dark haired man with otherworldly eyes chance a glance at you once more.

He awaits you in lustrous black robes at the bottom of the neverending marble spiral staircase, looking like a painting come to life. Your breath catches in your throat when he meets your eyes with that soft up-turn of his lips.

“Good evening,” he says, voice carrying as he offers his arm to you, “Your punctuality is alluring.”

“Only my punctuality?” you ask breathlessly.

“I suppose that remains to be determined, doesn’t it?” 

He leads you to the dining room, one of the many rooms you have not explored yet. A heavy chandelier glitters above the dark mahogany table and if you look for longer than a second, you’d be able to see your reflection in it.

“I’ve observed you, you know. Exquisite taste in books,” he informs you.

“Oh, yes, I’m…well-read, I guess,” you shrug, taking a sip of your flavorful soup.

“I’ve seen you in the library. That old couch isn’t very comfortable. Is it you who leaves my books out in disarray?” he teases.

“What?! I never left behind a mess-” you protest but relax when you see his grin, “Oh. Don’t make fun of me.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. He barely touches his full plate of food, instead opting to take in your presence in his home. In just a few short days, you’ve made this house your own home.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice curling around you and warming your cold hands, “What are you reading? What’s caught your attention?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” you say vaguely, “I like history.” 

“History? What about history interests you?”

“Well… I like learning about the past,” you muse, “We’re doomed to repeat history if we don’t see the patterns throughout time…”

“Yes, we certainly are,” he nods, “History is funny that way.”

“It is. Our own histories are just a reflection of that, too.”

“Oh?”

“We’re doomed to make the same mistakes if we don’t recognize our own flaws… I suppose.”

“And what are your flaws?” he asks smoothly, making you laugh.

“I have none, couldn’t you tell?” you reply with a wink.

He merely looks at you, staring at you as if he can see right through you into the fibers of your soul. It’s unnerving, and you look away to focus on your food and on chewing each bite thoroughly. He doesn’t eat much, if anything, only drinking every few minutes from his glass of wine. But his eyes remain transfixed on you even as you sit in silence.

“I want to show you something,” he says once you’re finished with your meal.

You nod and let him lead the way.

He takes you through the garden, past freshly bloomed tulips, cherry blossoms and red spider lilies and dewy, green bushes. Your eyes are suddenly filled with color, but all you can fix your gaze on is the man who glides in front of you with your hand in his.

His hand is cold, but his voice is warm like tea.

The summer rains continue to fall, but not on you. 

In the center of the vast garden sits a shimmering lake with the bluest, clearest water that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes are wide in wonder. Is there a mountain hidden beyond the trees?

“This lake wasn’t here when we moved into the house,” the man says softly.

“How is that possible?”

“The universe gave her to us when we needed her most,” he replies, turning his head with an intense stare.

“And you believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug, breaking eye contact with him to look back at the lake. The man is intense, like a blazing fire in the darkness. You can’t help but hold onto his every word as he regales you with the tale of how he stumbled upon this forest. His voice is enchanting as it echoes through the silent forest- the trees must be listening to his reverence as well.

He reminds you of a tortured prince.  His voice is heard from further and further away as you marvel at the stillness of the young lake. Soon, you can’t hear his voice at all.

The thought should scare you, but you feel safe and protected by the trees in this forest.

You hardly realize how far you’ve walked by yourself, to the other side of the lake. Excitement (maybe adrenaline) settles in your bones as a sudden impenetrable fog emerges, and yet you touch it, wrap your hands around it. As if it has a heartbeat.

It surrounds you but is gentle in its caress as you pick up the skirt of your dress to avoid tumbling as you sprint through the woods.

The trees fade away behind you.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Air fills your lungs like a reprieve. Just before you let it go and gulp down air again. The crunch of boots on fallen leaves and sound of birds fleeing does nothing to quell the nerves in your belly.

The puffy sleeve of your dress catches on a stray branch, the pretty tulle ripping into shreds. What a waste of such a beautiful dress, you think absently. Your arm begins to bleed profusely but you pay it no mind.

You are a princess, being sought after by the monster in the closet.

Geto Suguru nearly hisses when the scent of fresh blood permeates the air like a  barely hidden vice. It’s sweet, like a freshly plucked peach on a summer day.

He wonders how you’d taste on his tongue, your neck bare and craned all for him…

Dull pain radiates across his gums as his fangs descend further. Your sharp laugh pierces the uneasy quiet of the dark forest. His runaway princess, always seemingly ten steps ahead of him.

You flit in between the trees, looking over your shoulder with curious, cautious eyes. Even from this distance at the edge of the forest, he sees honey dripping from your wild eyes. 

As you look over your shoulder, you see him taking languid steps toward you. When you blink, he’s there, a shrouded shadow that you nearly miss in your line of sight. When you blink again, he’s gone. Your sprints slow to a walk before you stop completely. In the middle of these strange woods, you look up to the sky, only to see a shroud of endless grey descending upon you.

Purple blinks back at you from high up in the trees. You shiver, and he suddenly stands in front of you, his velvety black robes billowing behind him.

“You have every opportunity to leave,” he says silkily. His words melt over you, dripping onto your skin like hot candle wax. The warmth is soothing and you would do anything he asked, you think.

“I know,” you say softly.

His eyes sear into yours, searching and burning through you as he comes closer. His touch is cold as his index finger remains on your jaw, stroking your cheekbone slowly. Your eyes are wide, shining eagerly with obedience.

His lips part, his gleaming fangs lengthening so daintily and his eyes shift from purple to black. But he is still his welcoming self, with his easy smile and his gentle touch. Except, the way he smiles is different.

The shift is there, but barely recognizable. 

“You should’ve run away, little dove, ” he says softly in your ear as you shiver in his hold, “When you had the chance to.”

You shake your head, only making him graze your neck further. You are ravishing, the slow honey in your body gushing like a waterfall.

“There is nothing for me beyond this forest anymore,” you whisper softly into his ear. His lips flutter warmly against the column of your neck.

The first bite is always the most painful, but it eases away as quickly as it came as his fangs sink heartily into the delicate skin of your neck. Right next to your jugular vein, but not quite.

A sigh echoes through the forest, barely a noise over the sound of drops of your blood dripping onto his tongue. It is euphoric- your eyes flutter shut when his fangs pierce further into your neck. Almost straight into the vein.

If he’s not careful, he might drain you dry. That would be…tragic, considering the promise he made to Gojo.

But you are so sweet. Like nectar, and you walked right into his home with open arms, tangled in his decadent web.

Your grip on his robes is tight as you somehow pull him closer. As if you want him to take more out of you. How greedy. But he doesn’t, instead pulling away and licking his lips. His eyes revert back to their chilling purple as he keeps his gaze on you.

You sigh again, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. And yet, something flutters in your belly, making you smile and look up at him with lovestruck eyes.

“What’s your name?” you exhale, your breaths coming out in cold wisps as the wind bites your skin.

He smirks at you, fangs still tinted red with your blood. Your heart races.

“Geto Suguru,” he murmurs, brushing a stray drop of blood away from your neck with his lithe finger and licking it.

He says your name softly before he kisses you, the taste of metal ripe on your lips like a summer peach. Your knees immediately buckle as he slips further into your mouth. Despite the chill of his fingertips, a fire alights in your belly and spreads and spreads. Your breaths are erratic as you trail after him, struggling to keep up.

Your name in his mouth sounds like a promise.

The slight pain in the back of your head throbs lightly with each thready thought that forms in your brain, and yet all you can think about is the way Geto Suguru’s lips felt on your neck. The cold touch of his fingertips against your skin as he meticulously drank your blood.

Your blood. He chose you and he came after you in that forest.

It makes you giddy. It makes the headache worth it.

Slowly, the night turns into day. Repetitively, you hear the sound of the cozy rain and the sharpness of the wind against the windows nearly rattling the house. You don’t recall the last time you saw the sun, and yet light filters into the house through the skylights placed in the living room.

You don’t question it. It’s better than the alternative, being stuck in that stuffy house with your awful husband. Your husband who never cared for you, who never sought you out. Made you his priority.

Despite the fancy jewelry and pristine silks, the way you would dote on him, he never noticed you. He probably didn’t even notice that you were gone, anyway. You were supposed to be his favorite. His only. 

No matter. Geto Suguru drank your blood today. Nobody else’s but yours. Are you his favorite? His only?

You can’t help but laugh at such a ridiculous thought as you gingerly touch your neck and soothe the bite marks. Of course, you’re his only. You are the only woman in this house, save for Gojo Satoru. And he has been nowhere to be seen as of late. 

You must be his favorite.

“Jealousy is quite attractive on you,” Suguru says, chuckling as Satoru glares at him and throws a pillow at him half-heartedly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Satoru sighs dramatically, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Now you’re just being juvenile,” Suguru says, tossing the pillow back. The air is briefly knocked out of Satoru’s lungs and he tries to sit up. He glares at his lover, but the heat in his bright eyes falters as he reaches for him and cradles his jaw.

“You know this is only a means to an end,” he soothes.

“Sorry I can’t be a human again so you could drink my blood,” Satoru says petulantly, “You like her, I know you do.”

“There’s no need to be accusatory,” Suguru replies, airily, “And there’s no reason to lie. I know you like her, too. As if I don’t know that you watch her when you shouldn’t.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but his shoulders slump as he slides into Suguru’s warm embrace. “I just…I wish I could bleed for you the way you need me to. I wish I could fulfill you in the way this stranger can.”

“Oh, I’ve neglected you, haven’t I,” Suguru says softly, tightening his hold around Satoru’s narrow waist, “You brought her into our home for me. There must have been something about her that was alluring to you.”

“It’s not everyday you find a woman who abandoned her car in the middle of the worst storm in years only to show up drenched at the front door. The opportunity presented itself and I couldn’t resist.”

“She seems in no rush to leave. To go back home. We should find out why,” Suguru muses, his train of thought interrupted by Satoru’s wandering hands.

“That’s a later problem,” Satoru murmurs, letting his fingers trail up his thigh. His touch is fleeting, barely there. Just applying the tiniest pressure behind his knee, where he knows Suguru is sensitive. He shudders- it’s funny, that a vampire as old as him can still feel flustered by a simple caress.

Well, Satoru has had many opportunities to learn over the centuries from the Meiji era to now. They were both young high school boys when they met, with dreams of samurai becoming distant as their worlds cracked wide open by the introduction of new literature, new teachers, new philosophies. They were still boys, running through empty fields, sharing copies of the same books. Sharing shade under the same tree branch.

Sharing each other’s first kiss. They were boys, until they weren’t.

The clocks continued to spin until neither of them could control the inevitable passage of time. Time pulled them apart, Satoru to Tokyo and Suguru back to the countryside to take care of his parents and the farm he left behind.

They found each other again, this time under much more dire circumstances. Vampirism was spreading through Japan like a plague, and Suguru wanted to know everything about it. What was eternal life like? Was it beautiful, did it contain multitudes? Was there anything human about an immortal being?

His questions were meaningless because it didn’t take long for him to succumb to a vampire bite. His parents were dead and everything on the farm was gone, ripped to pieces and blood splattered across the wooden walls of the barn.

It took him about three decades to discover that the carnage was laid out by him. He was turned and he rained blood on his own home. It took another decade to find the vampire nest who did this to him.

Then another three decades to find Gojo Satoru once more.

He had been nestled in the heart of Tokyo, as a teacher of all things. There had been a very brief, happy reunion. It didn’t take Suguru long to realize that something was off about Satoru. The coincidences were too many- he was flighty and impulsive, rarely eating (in fact, Suguru can’t recall the last time he saw him eat any food), and he swears that his skin was translucent in the sunlight. 

“Something is keeping me here,” Satoru muses with his lover’s head in his lap, “Can’t imagine what it is.”

“I don’t want you to cross the Sanzu River, not without me,” Suguru says firmly, looking at him with red eyes.

“Is there an afterlife for vampires?” Satoru muses, “I mean, I’m surely safe. I’m a ghost, after all. A spirit tethered to the material earth, or something.”

“If you wanted to leave, you would.”

“Yes,” he says solemnly, “I suppose I would.”

It has been decades since that day and the universe has pulled them apart and brought them back together many times. For two immortal beings, spending five or eight or fifteen years apart is just a blip in the fabric of time. They both find each other each time, even when Suguru was contemplating his entire existence as a vampire and a former human. 

He had become Japan’s most infamous vampire for a period of time after draining over a hundred humans completely of their blood. How was it just, for them to hold two little vampire girls hostage when they had no say in being turned?

Suguru couldn’t stomach it- how isolating and selfish humans could be in the face of adversity. In the name of self-righteousness.

Never again, he vowed. Never again would he allow humans to treat his own that way. But Satoru brought him back from the brink of sure destruction, before Suguru could decimate the entirety of Japan.

Satoru wouldn’t let him give in to his most primal urges. He wouldn’t let Suguru lose himself because he couldn’t be bound to the earth without him-

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Don’t tell me you care-”

“I can’t let you do this to me, you can’t leave me here! Not for this. Not for them.”

“You’re selfish, Satoru!”

“So are you,” he scoffs.

But that was the end of it. Suguru’s eyes had returned to their purple and Satoru whisked him away. 

He had whisked him away from all the noise, the blood, the chaos to the towering castle in the trees that they currently lived in in the quiet of the forest-

“Hey,” Satoru questions, poking his cheek, “You just spaced out for a while.”

“I was thinking about you,” Suguru replies, turning his head to meet his caress. 

“As always-”

“You saved me. And you continue to save me,” Suguru says, “So let me show you my undying gratitude.”

Satoru hopes desperately that you can hear the echoes of his pleasure from your bedroom.

The house seems to have transfigured into more of a castle the longer you stay here. Winding staircases appear out of thin air complete with unfamiliar corridors and twists and turns.

But what remains the same is the library and how often you frequent it. The entire history of the universe must be kept in these bookshelves. There isn’t enough time in the day for you to read all of the treasures inside the library that seems to get bigger everyday.

You have been reading the same book for some time now, getting distracted by thoughts of Gojo Satoru. He hasn’t come to visit you in the library recently and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something to upset him for him to avoid you.

He comes and goes as he pleases. As if he’s there but he’s not there at all.

“There you are,” you say easily, sitting next to him on the bed.

“Can I help you?” Satoru says petulantly. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Whatever gave you that idea,” he deadpans, still not looking at you.

“Oh, come on,” you whine, tugging at his hand, “You can tell me anything.”

His head turns to you abruptly, too quickly to be considered normal. With narrowed eyes, he searches your face for any sign of deceit.

Satoru scoffs and lays back on the bed dramatically. You follow his actions and face him, meeting his terribly piercing gaze. Unable to stop yourself, you allow your fingers to graze his pale cheek. When he doesn’t flinch, you let your hand rest on his chest. He is more muscular than he looks, you think.

As if Satoru can read your thoughts, he turns to you and glares at you.

Comfortable silence fills the room. He stares at you, thoughts swirling behind those azure eyes, willing himself to speak.

Satoru pretends like he doesn’t notice your hand drifting down further.

“I found you first,” he mumbles, “And I found him first.”

“You did find me first,” you muse, “When nobody else wanted me, you did.”

Your grip on his shirt tightens briefly. 

“And now he’s drinking your blood and I can’t-”

“Oh, Satoru,” you say softly, “You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, but his silence conveys all you need to know. If Satoru could blush, his cheeks would be tinted a rosy color. You vowed before, to never let yourself feel as unwanted and lonely as you did in that relationship. And to never let anyone else feel that same loneliness.

His name is a honeyed whisper on your tongue that he wishes to pull from your pretty lips as often as he can. 

“I found you both first,” Satoru replies harshly before he presses his lips to yours, “Don’t ever forget that.”

Chaos bursts in his bright eyes before he closes them to kiss you, to pull your voice to the tip of your tongue. Your mouth is sweet, full of roses and tea. It’s no wonder Suguru is so taken with the taste of your rich blood. 

You fist his shirt as if you can’t get close enough to him with quickened breaths. Satoru can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. Can you feel his weightlessness against you? 

Satoru pulls you into his lap easily, groaning into your mouth when you lazily rock your hips into his. You remind him that you’re with him in this magical forest, that he found you first. The universe brought you to him and he kisses you fiercely, to ground himself.

Despite your hands marking his shoulder blades and your legs tight around his narrow hips, Satoru feels far away. Impossible to touch as if there is a veil keeping you on the outside.

Does he know? It doesn’t matter- you’ll find your way through the fog to touch his soul with your gentle fingertips.

The castle contains newly appearing staircases and paintings that have surely been lost to something as feeble as time and history. It protects you from the raging storm outside, the storm that surely awaits you in your home. 

It protects you from dangers that you cannot see.

You shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t be blamed. Not when the endless shadows of the house- the castle- lead you here. Straight to the ornate door of what must be Suguru and Satoru’s bedroom.

Only a door shields you from them. Only a door shields them from you.

Quiet whispers are muffled beyond the door, both of their voices mixing together. Whispers flow into syrupy moans as you press your ear against the door to listen.

You shouldn’t be here, disrupting what is surely to be an intimate moment between two lovers that you are not privy to. But you want to be. You want to feel their breaths span across your back, hear their voices low in your ear, feel their sinewy limbs under your fingertips. 

It makes you shiver. To be velvet in between silver and gold. All you can do is press your ear closer, closer…

No, you shouldn’t. But they’re so close to you-

“I can hear you breathing from out there,” Suguru says dryly, loudly enough for you to hear through the door, “If you’re trying to conceal yourself, you’re not doing a very good job.”

Impatiently, you push the door open, mesmerized by Suguru on his knees in front of Satoru. He is seated on the bed, leaning back on his elbows with hazy eyes and his fingers tangled in Suguru’s hair. 

You inhale hungrily, unsure of where to look. Suguru chuckles at you and beckons you closer with a simple, heady look.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says, his voice strained as Satoru complains over the lack of attention on him, “Sit down.”

You barely breathe as Suguru strokes Satoru’s hardened, leaking cock with his massive hand. You wonder how that hand would look around Satoru’s neck- as if he can read your mind, his left hand wanders up the pale divots of his chest and to his neck. Resting there, holding Satoru in place as he squirms for Suguru to do something. Anything.

Suguru’s voice is low but clear, softly telling Satoru to stay still and be patient. His hips jump in time with Suguru’s lazy strokes. How torturous- how long has Suguru had his lover on his back like this, waiting for mercy?

It must have been for a long time, considering the trembling of Satoru’s body and how he silently begs for more.

He smears pre-cum over his cock before pushing Satoru’s legs wider apart. Looking over his shoulder to see if you’re watching his movements, only to smirk at you knowingly. Your cheeks are warm as you peer at him. At Satoru’s vulnerability.

Suguru must know everything about Satoru. Everything about what he likes, about how to dissolve him into a pleading mess of want. You want to learn. You want to please them both. You want to learn from them.

But you just watch, for now.

You rub your thighs together subconsciously when they both sigh in unison as Suguru bottoms out. Their breaths are heavy against each other, silenced when he kisses Satoru harshly in contrast to his slow, purposeful thrusts. The fondness, the love between them is palpable in the way they gaze at each other. As if you aren’t even there- as if they are the only two stars in the entire sky of the universe. It wouldn’t be fair to the scales of the universe for there to be two pairs of lovers like them.

You wish to be the exception. You will be the exception.

“Touch yourself,” Suguru grunts from the bed, looking at you over his shoulder. You make an attempt to crawl closer to him but he stops you abruptly. “No, you’ll stay there and you’ll touch yourself. Let us see you.”

Their hands are interlocked and desire washes over you in a tidal wave. He turns away to give his attention to Satoru but you lift the skirt of your robe up to your waist to give them both a full view of your wetness.

You clench around nothing, wishing desperately to take Suguru in your mouth or press your pussy to Satoru’s lips. Instead you rub your clit in time with Suguru’s thrusts, watching his hips roll. Satoru’s moans are loud and raspy, calls of his lover’s name, please, please, please, more…

“Watch her,” Suguru hisses, his hair in disarray as he shoves Satoru’s face towards you. You gasp when both of them watch you together, watching as you shove your finger deep into your pussy, the sound of squelching mixing together and bouncing off the walls. 

You’re quiet in your corner of the room, obediently waiting for Suguru to beckon you closer. For him to grant you a small touch, however fleeting. But he never does, and you are desperate for their attention. For an ounce of their shared love to drip onto your heated skin.

“O-ohhh-”

Your clit throbs as Satoru’s moans get louder and louder, breathier and breathier and Suguru is concentrated on how his cock pushes into Satoru effortlessly, how effortless it’s been for decades but it feels like a millenia- and if there is a god- this is the salvation he’d pray for-

He cums with a broken moan, his chest heaving but continues to push into Satoru as he murmurs sweet nothings to him. They both turn their eyes to you, you who is currently rubbing yourself furiously as if you’re racing against time. Your eyelids are hazy, clouded over with lust. You listen so well. You hadn’t even moved an inch from where Suguru had told you to stay.

“Come here, darling,” Suguru coos, “What a good girl. Do you want a kiss?”

You nod eagerly and all but crawl to him and sit in front of him on your knees, waiting patiently.

“Good girls get kisses,” he replies, “Come here, next to me.”

Satoru pushes back on Suguru, trying to fuck himself on his cock but to no avail. Suguru places a warning hand on his hip to stop him. He kisses you, a chaste peck. It’s not enough for you, but he gives you a meaningful glance. Telling you to listen to him.

You lean forward to give Satoru a kiss and before you can deepen it, Suguru tells you that’s enough.

“No touching,” he clicks his tongue, “Touch yourself while Satoru cums. Show him how much you like it when he cums, sweetheart. Doesn’t he look good like this?”

You nod vigorously with warmth pooling in your cheeks. Suguru’s hair is in disarray, long strands falling from his messily made bun onto his forehead. He moves gracefully, a painter with his paintbrush as he strokes against Satoru. He is Suguru’s canvas.

Your chest tightens at the stars barely concealed in his meteor eyes.

Satoru’s gaze is hooded and heady, concentrated only on the man hovering above him as his hair falls onto his skin. Your fingers are warm against your thighs, but you prefer the coldness of theirs.

Suguru pushes his angel hair away from his forehead and murmurs for him to sing for him. To sing for you. His moans rise in pitch with every stroke- you can’t stop the way you look longingly where they are connected. Each tense muscle in his body is soothed by the other’s gentle but firm touch. It’s a delicate dance, one that Suguru has barred you from partaking in.

Your fingers wander, languidly rubbing circles on your clit, entranced by the ripple of muscles and the sheen layer of sweat on skin. The connection of two lovers is a sight that you are blessed to witness. You want to drink them in, be drenched in their love for each other- for you.

“What a patient girl,” comes a silky voice from next to you, “Why don’t you let us have you now?”

Suguru laughs when you nod your head vigorously. Like an enthusiastic puppy wanting her owner’s attention. 

“I want you both,” you say impatiently, pawing at them both,“Together-”

“Let’s give the girl what she wants,” Satoru says, still catching his breath as he lays flat on the bed.

You are met only with hungry eyes and salacious smiles.

The moon hangs above for prolonged hours as the night begins earlier and earlier. It must be nearing the winter, you think. Frost clings to the air like stars in the sky, but you don’t mind it. Not when you’re there to keep both Satoru and Suguru warm.

Despite the winter fast approaching, you still hear the faint sound of rolling thunder.

“That’s enough,” Suguru murmurs, pulling away from your wrist gently as he licks drops of your sweet blood.

“Are you certain?” you ask, despite feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Yes, darling. You’d let me have you, wouldn’t you?” he coos, as if he is speaking to a newborn deer. Your lips part into a wide, bashful smile as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“My sweetest girl,” he says, pressing his lips to your jaw. You laugh airily at the sensation, pretending to push him back with a hand on his firm chest.

“I would give you all the blood you wanted,” you reply, “You only want my blood, right?”

“Is validation from me what you seek?” Suguru teases you.

Your voice is so full of hope, eyes shining with reverence as you wait for an answer. How far would you walk for him? Just to the edge of the universe? Would you fall over the precipice with him? Would you look over your shoulder before jumping if he told you to?

Judging by the way you shove your wrist in his face, he thinks he has his answer. Your skin is dotted with fading bite marks, some fresh and some old. You wear them with pride, uncaring if anyone sees. Not that there is anyone to see you, besides Gojo Satoru and himself.

The soft smile that uncurls on your face when Suguru’s eyes shift from a calm purple to charcoal and veins abruptly appear under his eyes as he feeds on you is enthralling. No feeling will equate to his soft whimpers as the first drop of your blood enters his circulatory system.

That’s all he is, anyway. A mess of blood and an undead heart thoughtlessly arranged together with frayed red strings in a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit. But somehow, you fit. You and Satoru both fit in different places.

No feeling, not even the memories of your formerly known lover, can make you feel as desired as Geto Suguru drinking your blood as if you are the last living, breathing thing on the planet.

Suguru gives you beautiful gowns and glittery jewels to adorn on your neck and your ears. All you need to give him is your blood and he’ll indulge you with his undivided attention.

“I desire you,” he mumbles, kissing your cupid’s bow, “Your mind,” a kiss to your forehead, “Your company,” a kiss to your palm, “Your body,” a kiss to your clothed chest, “Your soul,” a final lingering kiss to your bruised wrist.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Suguru can feel your lashes flutter against his cheek.

“Shall I prove it to you?”

He grins wolfishly, determined to indulge in every inch of you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Satoru says with food in his mouth, “A cop came by earlier. He was asking about a certain abandoned car about two miles from here.”

Satoru’s eyes shift to you, piercing and intense but you don’t meet his gaze. 

“That’s so…interesting,” you mutter, “Who would come out this far and just dump their car? How weird…”

“Someone trying to leave something behind, maybe?” Suguru suggests knowingly, his eyes equally as piercing as Satoru’s.

You avoid both of their pointed gazes and take a long swig of red wine.

The silence suffocates you, but you don’t relent. They don’t need to know your secret, the one that you’ll carry with you until your dying breath. The real reason for your abrupt departure from your home, the perceived carelessness of throwing your car keys out in the mud on the forest floor for anyone to find. All for the simple hope of salvation in this sea of trees.

Instead of salvation, you’ve found eternal damnation with the immortal vampire Geto Suguru and ever living ghost Gojo Satoru. It’s still far better than the unfortunate alternative that awaited you in your former life.

You play with the emerald necklace seated at the base of your neck. A gift, of course, from the two ethereal beings sitting in front of you. Your lip nearly bleeds from how tightly you hold it between your teeth, debating whether you should tell them or not.

Not today.

“We need to know who is looking for you,” Satoru says firmly.

“Why? So you can hand me over to them all wrapped up in a bow? Or so that you can exile me from your home?” you challenge petulantly. Suguru narrows his eyes in your direction and you swear they flash an angry red. You try not to feel small in your seat and hold your head high.

“Don’t you dare imply that either of us would give you up so easily,” he all but hisses, “Do not insult me.”

“Besides, don’t you think we should know why the cops are knocking on our door asking about your abandoned car?” Satoru chimes in with a barely concealed smirk, “And how stupid do you think we are? To not know that that abandoned car was yours?”

Your eyes land on your hands in your lap and you sigh, the burden of your former life weighing heavily in your throat.

“You will banish me if I tell you,” you say, “I can’t handle it if you tell me to leave. There is nowhere for me to go.” Your words are sincere as you cave into yourself.

“Of course we wouldn't, sweetheart,” Satoru coos, coming around the table to sit next to you. He places a lithe, translucent finger under your chin and forces you to look at him. Uncertainty dances in your dark eyes but you’re unable to break the trance that he has placed you under.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” you mumble.

“How very mysterious of you,” Satoru teases you, patting your hair without a care in the world.

“We’re only asking so we can protect you if we need to,” Suguru offers. Heat blooms in your chest at his firm admission. Of course, they’d protect you. After all, this house is a lighthouse in the storm.

Today, you've forgotten to check if the rain continues to fall outside.

The garden behind this castle of a house is flourishing and colorful, filled with flowers and blooms that you have never seen before. A sea of reds, pinks, blues and greens bursts in your eyes. To think, you’ve never seen the garden before. In fact, when was the last time you stepped outside?

You have not seen the sun in days, weeks, months, perhaps. But you feel the warmth of the sun whenever you lay between Satoru and Suguru.

But the breeze is refreshing against your face as it threads through your hair.

You look over the treeline, at the tallest trees that seem to pierce the stormy, grey sky. The rain has not begun for the day yet, but you suspect it will soon. It’s heavy in the air, palpable against your skin. If you reach out into the empty space, you’re certain you could collect raindrops into your hands.

A shiver trembles down your spine as the frosty air whips your face. Perhaps the rain will turn to snow soon. You always did love the snow. The silence of a fresh, bright snowfall where everything is as still as the night

Despite the approaching winter chill, the flowers in the garden are flourishing as if it’s the middle of springtime. You never really appreciated the springtime flowers in the past. But maybe because you never noticed, never took the time to smell the roses.

The tiny pond centered in the garden is as motionless as the air that chokes you with silence. Lotus flowers float mindlessly from one side of the pond to the other. You’ve never seen so many lotuses in one place before. It’s beautiful and rather ominous.

Time does not move in this patch of the forest. You’re forced to stand still along with the magic of the house, the symphony of the storm. Is it the magic of the house, or is it the vampire and the ghost who live inside the house?

Does it matter?

You sigh heavily, picking at your cuticles as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Your coat is heavy around your shoulders. Are they watching you in the windows? Wondering why you’ve left them alone in the house, why you’re sitting outside all alone?

Will they come find you? What would it take for them to come crawling to you, begging for your attention? Perhaps a deep cut on your wrist with the sharpened end of the gate surrounding the backyard, a scrape of your knees-

A whoosh of air wraps around your face in a firm caress but it’s not the wind, it’s more warm and comforting. You feel something being placed gently into your hair- a red spider lily.

You hide your smile.

The breeze feels like the curl of lithe fingers around your cheek, invisible but heavy against your skin. You sense Satoru’s touch but you still play coy, pretending like you don’t notice him pawing at your clothes. 

You can’t see him, but you can feel him. His hands pushing the collar of your coat to lick up the column of your throat. Cold breaths against your ear as his teeth graze your earlobe.

It’s playful, teasing- you can nearly hear his laughter. Until it’s not anymore, and you find yourself on your back in the grass. Staring at the stormy sky, despite the column of sunlight illuminating you.

You wonder if Suguru is watching. You hope he is.

His hands are nimble, an out of body experience, as your blouse becomes unbuttoned and tossed to the side. With a shaky breath, you try to feel for him, wanting to touch his chest or press your lips to his-

But he doesn’t allow you to, only allowing you to be at his mercy as he holds your chest in his unseen hands. You look down in interest as your own flesh is kneaded by the concealed force that is Gojo Satoru. His touch is searing, heavenly and goosebumps rise on your neck as the pressure of his hips presses against yours. Your skirt is suddenly flipped upwards in a flurry of impatience as he pulls you closer to him. To close the gap between life and the afterlife-  to tip you towards the latter.

A moan parts through the veil and settles deep in your belly as warmth bursts. You are sensitive to the plush grass against your back, against your bare thighs- your skirt has been pulled off and you lay unclothed in the garden. Like izanami herself, you lay with only the elements to witness as the unearthly being on top of you parts your knees lewdly.

He stares at your wetness as your legs part open- after all, divine intervention sits at the apex of your thighs and he wants a taste. He wants to see the great light, or whatever comes next, in your eyes as his teeth brush against your inner thighs. Satoru tastes honey once he moves your hands aside. You can’t hide from him- you can’t hide from something you cannot see. He is hungry for you, hungry to devour you, hungry for you to give in fully to him. To be absolutely and fully open to him and bare your entire soul to the deepest, dead parts of him.

Your gasps are slight, barely heard breaths as he licks you with fervor. In between your legs is Satoru, grinding into the dewy grass in time with the rise and fall of your chest. You throw your head back when Satoru pushes two translucent fingers into you, your slick coating his skin.

You smell ravishing, the pulse of your heart a song in his ears. No wonder Suguru nearly drained you dead the other day.

Satoru groans when you wrap your legs around his hips. It’s not surprising that you intuitively know exactly where he starts and ends. To your eyes, you see nothing but open space in front of you. But you feel his distorted lines pinned against you, pushing you further into the earth.

He wants to savor the image of your parted lips and half-lidded eyes, the heat on your cheeks as he strokes himself and pushes into you. The noise that leaves your throat goes straight to his cock. Do you enjoy being full like this? Stuffed full of his cock and not being able to see it? See him?

“Faster, Satoru,” you mumble, looking straight at his six eyes, “Faster-oh!”

Careful what you ask for. He grins at you wildly, pushing his chest down to yours. He could spit into your mouth if he wanted, it would be so easy to let his spit slide into your wet, warm mouth. Your body jolts with every thrust, tightening as he rubs your clit and spreads your wetness sloppily.

A pearly sheen of sweat coats your sweet skin and if you could see him now, the wolfish look in his eyes would be shining in yours. He presses down against your bottom lip with a ghostly thumb, groaning when you whimper into the open air. It’s quickly silenced when he pushes his finger into your mouth harshly as surprise melts into heat in your eyes.

Satoru can feel Suguru’s eyes on you both, laid out in the grass. He wonders if you can, too.

The slope of your neck is enticing and he must sink his teeth into you. With a breathy gasp, you shudder and clench your walls around him as you cum abruptly. He grins crookedly at you, not that you can see it. You squeeze around him like a velvety vice. Your eyes are mischievous as you roll your hips against him. The rise and fall of your chest is tantalizing- his hand moves of its own volition to wrap around your neck loosely. 

As if you are a goddess with a chain to keep you tethered to the earth, to him, you look directly into his eyes and smile.

His hips stutter as he loses rhythm before he pushes into you and stills completely. Satoru whines your name brokenly in your ear before he cums loudly and triggers you to cum once more. You feel full and heavy, sated with the feeling of his thick, gooey cum pooling and mixing with your own wetness.

His eyes widen when you let your hand graze downwards to rub yourself. You taste him on your lips; tangy and sweet. Your smile is lewd, like you’re proud of yourself for seducing him in the open garden with your bare body and honey eyes.

Your skin glistens with the dewy grass that you have claimed to be your bed as the selective sun forms a patch around your head like a halo. In truth, Satoru feels unholy in the way he looks at you, thinks about you.

He drops his head low to kiss you once more, driven by the desire to paint you with himself. To paint brushstrokes of his devotion on every inch of your skin.

It’s so simple to give in to his kiss. To dive into him without worrying about how far the jump is or how far off the cliff you’ll go. You trust that he will catch you, even if you can’t see him. 

He is still unseen to you, but your hands are flat against his taut chest as you maneuver yourself on top of him. You throw your head back as you welcome him inside, your wetness coating him like a salve.

Your hips move of their own accord and Satoru lays back to let you take control of him. You lean down to kiss him but your lips hover. As if you want to say something.

This garden of Eden will hear your secrets and here they shall die, you decide.  Nothing seems so terrible with the way he fits inside you. You want to give him your mind, body, and soul.

And with this declaration you will. You rotate your hips, coming down on him gently at a slow pace before picking up again. His hands stay idle on your hips as you finally say something-

“I killed him,” you say softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You can’t hear him, and you don’t need to.

“My husband. We just…it fell apart!” you pant, bouncing faster, “what was a girl to do?”

“He never loved me! Never wanted me. Never paid attention to me,” you whisper, “so I killed him. And I ran away. I just wanted to be his one and only…”

“I killed him and you found me,” you sigh breathlessly, moving an arm away to rub your clit furiously. The words have never been said out loud and the secret that remains between you and him has you squeezing around him tightly. “I wish you had been there to see it, Satoru-“

He finishes loudly, without warning and you keep rolling your hips. He pushes your hand away to replace your fingers and rubs you until you finish with him.

You fall onto his invisible chest and sigh happily. He stays unseen, running a hand over your bare back and feeling the mix of your cum and his of you both leaking out of you and onto him. Your words are the words of a lover, confessions and shy smiles bursting at the seam of your lips and into his.

It must be alright, if a gentle spring breeze caresses your back.

Satoru looks at you in awe- how frightened you must have been when you had realized what you’d done. And through all of the strife and turmoil, you still came to him.

That must be divine intervention. After all, he only planned for you to be a momentary blood bag for his lover until your inevitable decay.

The openness of the house, the wall to wall windows, the way the breeze floats inside and coats the house in a gentle chill despite the ongoing storm outside, is comforting to you now. Rather than eerie as it was days ago. Days? Weeks? Months?

An invisible weight is lifted from your chest, one that you didn’t know even existed since you drove away in a frenzy on that cold, rainy night. The memories are almost too painful, but the newfound freedom tastes sweet on your tongue.

“Will you keep me waiting much longer, darling?” Suguru whispers, tracing your cheek with a long finger. You lean into his icy touch and he smiles at you.

Lifting the skirt of your midnight blue robe, he caresses your thigh and smacks it lightly. His grin widens when you yelp and laugh. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you. What an excitable thing you are, completely defying any expectations he had of you only to enjoy your time in this castle.

A prison without a fence. He expects you won’t try to leave for a long, long time. Not when it took you all of the drama of a poor husband for you to leave in your prior life.

Yes, you are starting a new life, as you’ve indicated to him in the confines of his bedroom before. A new life with him and Satoru, one where you will be free. As free as the rain that falls from the sky.

Your soul is vulnerable, exposed for him to read whenever he desires. All Suguru sees is pure longing and fear. Fear that you will be abandoned once more.

It doesn’t matter. Suguru will make it so that your wishes are fulfilled forever. And once forever ends and you are nothing but an afterthought in his everlasting life, he will be sure to scatter your ashes in the lake by the house.

He will remember you fondly as the girl who killed to find a home in him. But ultimately, this story will not conclude with you in it. No matter how sweet your blood tastes or how you bat your eyelashes at him to get your way or how endearing he finds you as you list out trivial history facts from a time period he never lived in, not even how warm your pussy feels right after he cums inside you-

None of that matters, except for right now. Right now, when you reach for him with warm hands and look at him as if he is not a bloodthirsty creature, but as if he hung the moon in the sky.

“Make you wait? I’d never,” you reply with bright eyes, shifting against the cool sheets to press yourself closer to him. Your eyes flutter in pleasure when he pulls the knot of your robe loose from your waist. He pushes the robe to the side, leaving you open and exposed to him. Suguru purrs against your skin, the noise vibrating against your bare chest. He lifts his head as his eyes turn red and black veins form on his face.

He’s hungry.

Suguru lifts your wrist to his lips, pressing delicate kisses to the still bruised skin there. Most of the bruises have faded by now, anyway, with fresh ones blooming elsewhere. He remembers where each one is- your thighs, your chest, your neck… You don’t bother with covering them, not anymore. Not since you’ve fully accepted the castle in the forest as your home.

His tongue is gentle as he allows his fangs to elongate and brush against the skin of your wrist, like he is asking for permission. 

With a soft gasp, you feel his sharpened teeth pierce your skin as he messily drinks from your vein like a man starved. In truth, he has been starved over the last few decades. Starved of a sweetness like you.

In over one hundred years, he can only remember Satoru’s blood tasting so decadent. Filling him up with a sudden unquenched thirst. Suguru wants more of you- and you know it.

He lets go of your wrist, lapping any extra blood that angrily pours out of the small puncture wound with his tongue. With a comforting rub of your skin, he presses kisses down your torso, taking his time in enjoying how you squirm in his tight grasp. Your body moves in waves against his hold, moving with his push and pull.

The familiar pierce of his canines brushes against the fragile skin of your inner thigh, one of his favorite places to drink from. He says he can taste all of your feelings in that exact spot. Suguru doesn’t care about the guttural noises that rip from his throat as he drinks from you, careful to ensure that you don’t nearly faint from blood loss. Again.

Warmth blooms in your belly, uncurling like fairy wings to envelope you in comfort. But really, it’s Suguru’s touch, his mouth, how loved he makes you feel. He says he’s never had blood like yours before and you believe him. You push his head further with your free hand, encouraging him to take more from you.

But he pulls away, blood dripping from his teeth down his chin and onto his chest. You pull him on top of you for a sharp kiss, smearing your own blood on your lips. He tastes metallic with the taste of your blood down his throat. You want to devour him, to see how you taste in his eyes. You never want him to stop looking at you the way he does- as his prized possession, his favorite girl.

“There have been so many women,” Suguru coos, “Has Satoru told you? But you are the only one who stayed.” He drags lithe fingers over your chest, only to use his long nails to cut you. It’s not very deep, but you watch in wonder as ruby red blood blooms on your skin. 

He uses his thumb to paint your blood over your skin only to press his finger to your lips and wordlessly tell you to suck.

“You stayed because you love us,” he says in a honeyed voice, “Good girls should be rewarded for their loyalty.”

Suguru reaches over to his nightstand where he pulls out a silver dagger encrusted with jewels. You stare at him as he places it carefully into your hands. What does he want you to do with this?

It dawns on you when you look at the angry lines on your chest. You sit up on your haunches and smile at him, enamored that he entrusts you to this degree. 

You hold the dagger, trying to get comfortable with the feel of such a heavy metal in your hands. It’s a foreign weight, necessary for the foreign task that your lover has for you.

“Right here?” you ask quietly, your hand on his chest where you expect his heart would beat.

“Wherever you’d like, darling.”

With no hesitation, you allow the surface of the blade to pierce Suguru’s skin. Dark, burgundy droplets fall from the cut and trickle down his torso. With wide eyes, you look at him, asking him what to do. Instead, he laughs at you, curling a hand around your cheek.

“Is it not obvious?” 

He gathers the blood from the cut onto his finger and presses it to your lips once more. You swallow instantly with doe eyes- you will always take whatever he gives you. But you surprise him when you lean forward and press your lips to the blood on his torso and lick, whimpering with each swallow of his blood in your circulatory system.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Suguru says, petting your hair, “Good girl. Do you want more?”

With darkened lips and eager eyes, you nod vigorously. Wanting nothing more than to please him. He takes the dagger back from you and cuts a much deeper wound into his chest, wincing as he does so.

“There you go,” he says, throwing his head back when you latch onto him and drink his blood. It comes to you so easily. The urge to please.

Strangely enough, he tastes like ripened cherries. His moans are soft as you drink from him as you please. He owns you now, whether you realize it or not. Now that you’ve drunk his blood, he is a part of you now.

Until he decides otherwise.

In your new home, you have created the perfect life. You are cherished and desired, not needing to hide the ugly truths about yourself to Suguru and Satoru. You see them with rosy hearts in your eyes, convinced that they have accepted you the way that they have accepted each other.

You refuse to let any seeds of doubt fester. Will they tire of you, the way your husband did? Will they say that you’re too needy, too demanding of their attention?

The words are familiar in your mind but they look at you as if they are enthralled by you. No, you are a part of them as much as they are a part of you. You try your hardest to quell your rising, unfounded fears. It’s you, not them, you convince yourself. It’s you, not them.

Suguru and Satoru are already in the library, waiting for you to join them on the barely sat-in leather couch. 

You read your book in silence, the same three paragraphs burned into your eyelids. You can’t focus, not when the two men next to you try to vye for your attention. Despite their lips on your neck and their sweet, seductive words… There is a buzzing in your head that you can’t seem to shake away. It gnaws at you and gnaws at you, even as you succumb to their touches. Even as they drape themselves over you and pull sweet sounds from your throat.

Why don’t they look at you the way they did before? Are you imagining the look of disgust in Satoru’s eyes as he undresses you? Is the boredom on Suguru’s face an unfounded figment of your imagination? 

You are desperate for them, for them to bury themselves in you and build a home inside you. For them to keep you and never let you go. With a harsh kiss and bite to their lips, you seal your fate of your own accord.

In the thick of the frigid winter, the seasons change. It no longer downpours everyday- instead, snow covers the forest. Completely untouched and pure in a delicate, white blanket that cradles the earth.

The cold nips at your cheeks as you step outside the castle on the hill. You are dressed only in a thin black robe that rustles with the icy wind. With barren feet, you step into the snow. Hardly registering the way your blood cools with each step or how your teeth begin to shatter.

Despite the clean scent of snow in the air, you still catch the lingering scent of rain.

Loose deep red rose petals that you hold in your arms taint the pristine white snow as if they were drops of blood. The plant life still somehow thrives even in the wintry weather.

It is so quiet, with each step you take hardly making a sound. The world is still as you make your way over to the nearly frozen over darkened lake. It glitters with the pale sun, almost blinding you but you remain undeterred.

It is a chance for rebirth. Revenge. Or is it redemption?

You dip your foot in the lake first. Then, you close your eyes and surrender to the unknowing abyss with nothing more than a silent splash.

Melted snow coats the earth you walk on when your eyes open once more. It must be days later that you breathe the dry air and emerge from the depths of the lake, your robe soaking wet and sticking to your clammy skin.

But you do not feel the cold, nor do you need to breathe air. It’s a leftover reflex from the person you were not even a full week ago.

The door to the castle on the hill is the same as the first day you saw it. When you were running away from your old life. Here you are, embracing your new one. 

You knock on the door gently. Once, then twice.

You are met with wide, surprised celestial eyes. Only offering him a grin in return.

“What did you do?” Satoru hisses, yanking you inside by your forearm. He senses the difference in you already, the darkened energy coating your bloodstream. Your heart does not beat at all and your canines have become sharpened fangs in your mirthless smile. Your hands are cold when you paw at his chest. He’s used to cold hands, but yours are unforgiving. A threat when your nails nearly pierce through his skin. 

Most of all, blood stains your skin and your teeth when you smile widely at him. Some of it is fresh, still dripping down your neck and some of it is dried along the curve of your jaw and your chest. It reminds him of a lost, wounded wolf. It’s jarring, the sweet smile he is used to is sinister and unforgiving. 

It doesn’t suit you, and yet this is what you have chosen. Your laughter is grating in his finely tuned ears, reminiscent of a curse. Is that what this is? Is that what you have become? An immortal curse?

He ignores the trepidation crawling on his skin. Satoru can’t exactly slam the door in your face, can he?

“Come, lover. Let’s find Suguru,” you say with bright eyes, “We have much to catch up on.”

“You were supposed to be nothing but a blood bag for Suguru,” Satoru seethes, “Look what you’ve done-”

“No, please, I did this for you,” you wail, tugging on his shirt, “I want this forever. Don’t you want the same? You said you did!”  Doesn’t he see you? Doesn’t he see how much you crave him? 

“Enough,” comes Suguru’s voice from behind Satoru. He looks at you, running a thumb over the blood on your skin. Then at the silent, unmoving lake.

He closes his eyes for half a second and sighs, ignoring Satoru’s very purposeful glare at his head.

“I did it for you, Suguru,” you whimper, relaxing when he gathers you in his arms and strokes your hair. He says nothing, instead raising his eyes to meet Satoru’s. Two vampires in the same forest? A newborn vampire, at that?

Suguru is tempted to stake you for your naivete, but refrains from doing so. Sheer bloodlust is what got them into this mess, after all.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says into your hair, but he means for Satoru to hear it, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

The sun sets in brushstrokes on the world, but not on you.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

TWO LOVERS DRENCHED IN DEVOTION

Alternate title: Soaked Sweethearts

This is simply a fan translation of the game. Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

I turned my gaze outside the window upon hearing the sound of the rushing wind.

(It's windy today.)

I stopped sewing and watched the trees sway.

Kicho: "Mai, can I come in?"

Mai: "Sure. Something smells nice."

Kicho: "I made some tea. How about taking a break together?"

Mai: "Okay. Thanks!"

Putting my sewing kit back on the shelf, I sat with Kicho at the table, and he gracefully poured tea into the teacups.

(Being alone with my lover like this is so blissful.)

Kicho: "Are you really that happy?"

Mai: "Huh? Did I say it out loud?"

Kicho: "No, even without saying anything, I can tell just by looking at your face."

(It must have been obvious that he could tell so easily.)

Kicho: "Why are you turning to the side?"

Mai: "Because I'm embarrassed about having my feelings read."

Kicho: "It's too late to be feeling shy now."

Feeling my cheeks getting warm, I took a sip of the warm tea he handed me, and a sweet, familiar scent tickled my nose.

(Huh?)

Mai: "This has honey in it, doesn't it?"

Kicho: "Yeah. I remember seeing someone drizzle it into tea back in the future."

Kicho: "Do you like it?"

Mai: "Yes, I can even savor the aroma."

Kicho: "I see."

(If he wasn't here, I wouldn't be able to drink it in this era.)

With every sip, the sweetness of the honey soothed my heart.

Mai: "It's delicious. Can I have another cup later?"

Kicho: "Of course. I added it to make you happy. Feel free to drink as much as you want."

(Ah, he smiled.)

My soft gaze met his emerald eyes, and my heart beat faster.

Mai: "This tea tastes even better because I'm sharing it with you."

Kicho: "……..."

Kicho: "You really say the cutest things."

Gently, he reached his hand out and stroked my cheek.

(Hehe. It tickles.)

Mai: "By the way, it's rare to see you taking a break at this hour."

Kicho: "One business negotiation got canceled."

Mai: "So you came to see me in your free time?"

Kicho: "Of course."

(He's so straightforward.)

Heat spread to my cheeks again with happiness and embarrassment.

Afterward, we exchanged plans for the week and engaged in small talk while enjoying the tea.

(Since we’re both busy, it looks like it’ll be just another ordinary day.)

That’s why sharing a warm cup of tea and talking like this felt so precious.

Kicho: “Mai, how about going somewhere on our next day off?”

Mai: “Really? Okay!”

Kicho: “Then choose where you want to go.”

Suddenly, a knocking sound interrupted our conversation.

Subordinate’s voice: “Excuse me. Lord Kicho, are you here?”

(It seems like he’s looking for Kicho.)

Kicho: “I’m here. What is it?”

Subordinate’s voice: “We need you to handle an urgent matter at the port.”

Kicho: “I’ll be right there.”

Subordinate’s voice: “Yes, sir.”

Kicho stood up and returned the tea set to the tray.

Mai: “Are you heading to the port now?”

Kicho: “Yeah. I’ll probably be home late.”

Kicho: “By the way, about our previous conversation, think about the place you want to go.”

(Even though he’s so busy, he still cares about me.)

Mai: “Okay, I’m looking forward to it.”

Kicho: “Yeah, me too.”

I saw him off as he left the room, then returned to work.

(I wonder where we should go on our outing.)

A few hours later一

(I did a great job today.)

Having completed my work quota, I stretched my body and realized that the outside had already become completely dark.

As I turned on the lights, it started to rain.

(Come to think of it, Kicho went to the port.)

(It’s raining. I hope he’s okay.)

(He said he’d be late, so I should probably bring him an umbrella and pick him up.)

I hurried out of the room and bumped into someone with a thud.

Kicho: “Mai, where are you going?”

Mai: “Kicho? You’re back?”

Kicho: “Just now.”

(He’s not drenched.)

(I’m glad he made it back to the trading post before the rain started. But...)

Kicho: “........”

His expression was so tense.

(Did something happen?)

Kicho: “I’ll be working late tonight. You should go to bed first.”

Kicho: “I’ll be in the reception room, so if you need anything, just call me.”

Mai: “Okay.”

I nodded, and he walked away.

(I'm curious, but I guess it's better if I'm not by his side tonight.)

The next afternoon, I left the room to go to the market to buy some fabrics.

(In the end, I couldn't see him this morning either. I wonder what happened after that.)

As I left the room, I heard whispers from the end of the hallway.

Kicho's Subordinate 1: "Is that true?"

Kicho's Subordinate 2: "Yeah. It looks like there's a spy targeting Lord Kicho among those who visited the trading post."

(What!?)

The unexpected words left me breathless.

(A spy targeting Kicho? Who on earth?)

Even after his subordinates left, I couldn't move from that spot.

Kicho: "Mai."

Mai: "........."

I snapped back to reality when someone called my name.

I looked at the source of the voice and saw Kicho staring at me.

Mai: "Are you being targeted by a spy?"

Kicho: "It looks like you already heard about it."

Mai: "Yes. Is it true that there's someone in this trading post who is after you?"

He frowned and let out a small sigh.

Kicho: "I have such information, but I still don't know who the spy is."

Mai: "So, it's true after all."

Kicho: "Sorry for surprising you. But don't worry, it will be over soon."

Kicho: "You can continue to live normally without any concerns."

(I understand that he's trying to reassure me, but...)

I couldn't nod sincerely because his tense expression from last night crossed my mind.

Mai: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Kicho: "Don't try doing anything stupid. Besides, I'm pretty good at finding spies, especially those from Azuchi."

He chuckled, and I pursed my lips.

Mai: "Are you talking about me!?"

(I want him to take me seriously, not make fun of me.)

Just as I was about to try again to offer my help一

Kicho: "Are you really that worried?"

Mai: "Eh? Ah..."

I felt my feet gently lift off the ground.

With one arm holding me, he opened the door to my room.

(Whoa!)

As soon as he entered the room, he closed the door behind him.

Kicho: "There's no need for you to be anxious."

Mai: "Nnn..."

He embraced me in his arms, and our lips met abruptly.

(Why did this happen so suddenly?)

He slowly slipped his tongue in and entwined it with mine, slowly melting me.

Unable to stand, I collapsed into Kicho, and the arm around my waist supported me.

Kicho: "No matter what happens, I will never let any harm come to you."

Kicho: "I'm currently investigating the identity of the spy, so it's only a matter of time until I find out."

Mai: "Ah…nnn…"

He deepened the kiss as if to reassure me.

(No, that's not it.)

(What I'm worried about is not myself, but him.)

He's a kind person, but it's true that he has earned some resentment through his past actions.

(If something happens to him…)

Even thinking that, my objections were sealed with a kiss, preventing me from saying a word.

Kicho: "It's about time."

He whispered this reluctantly and released his arm from me.

Breathing out a sigh, we gazed at each other, and someone knocked at the door.

Subordinate: "Lord Kicho."

Kicho: "I know."

Kicho: "Then Mai, I'll be going now."

After lightly stroking my head, he disappeared beyond the door.

(I couldn't convey anything.)

I was left standing there, my cheeks flushed.

The next day, after finishing my errands and leaving the shop一

(Huh? You're kidding, right?)

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Premium ╎ Epilogue

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

battle of the sexes

pairing: lo’ak x female omatikaya!reader

WC: 1.5K

warnings: dont think theres even cursing. completely clean, well, theres a bit of tension.

summary: always have to one up each other

A/N: could i have choosen a better title? absolutely. i got inspired by 1x04 of That 70′s Show where donna and eric play basketball at the end of the ep. idk just some mindless fun.

@alecmores my editor💗

been in the drafts since april 2

masterlist / lo’ak sully

it was a pleasant midday in the forest of pandora. the sun was blazing brightly and a cool, steady breeze would caress the leaves and flora, giving a melodic tune around you and lo’ak.

your feet were dipped in the crystal clear water of a nearby pond with a tiny stream. your back laid against the plush green grass, arms cushioning your head as you kept your eyes closed and enjoyed the peace. the twittering and humming of the fauna buzzed in your pointed ears making them twitch at every noise.

a touch on your ankles made you flinch and lift your head, elbows pushing your upper body into a half-sitting position. lo’ak’s head peeked over the surface, water lapping at his chin. his eyes shined with a gleam that pulled a lazy smile upon your lips, he always made you feel weightless. he smiled back as he swam closer to the shore.

he crossed his arms as they rested beside your thighs, his head lolling to the side as he stared up at you with a slight raise of his brows and the smile that still sat on his lips. his braids fell over his shoulders, the two with beads covered an eye as they always did. on impulse you leaned over and moved them away, your fingers dragging down lo’ak’s face that stopped at his chin before pulling away.

“we should get back to practicing.” you blurt out as you pull your legs out of the water and move to grab your bow.

“what? oh, come on!” “we have rested long enough, we must train to be mighty warriors for the people.”

with a popped hip you set your hand onto the skin while you hold your bow and arrows beside you. you took the eye roll the boy gave to your reply but watched as he pushed out the water, droplets sliding over his stomach and stripes. they caught your eyes and you were transfixed until a nudge to your shoulder snapped you away.

“see something you like?” his cocky tone made you feel warm but you just rolled your eyes before walking back to the training grounds. his laughter followed behind.

you re-entered the area where lo’ak set up targets to practice your shooting. you did some quick cleaning as you waited for lo’ak to catch up to you, when he was taking forever you decided to start on your own.

so you notched an arrow along the string and pulled with your fingers. you sucked a breath in, making sure your stomach was solid and your arms weren’t wavering. when the moment felt right you released the arrow and it flew straight into the bullseye. you smiled.

“wow! nice shot!” his voice came from above and you looked up into the trees.

he was perched on a low branch with his legs swinging in the air and his tail swaying behind him. his forearms sat on his thighs and he hunched over with his hair dancing in the wind.

“why don’t you come down and show me what you got? Since you’re always bragging.” you held your chin high.

you saw the shake of his head but couldn’t see the smile on his lips or how his eyes sparkled as he stared down at you. he gathered his bow and arrows, and jumped his way down to the forest floor with a muffled thump. he pushed his braids behind his ears before taking your spot.

“watch and learn, syulang (flower).” he said cockily and got into his stance.

you rolled your eyes but ignored the rapid beating of your heart as you watched lo’ak. not taking your eyes off him for a second and letting them wander as he was distracted. you watched how his muscles flexed and his back pulled taunt as he was in an aiming position. his tail skimmed the grass by his feet and his ears twitched now and then if one of the forest creatures cried out.

he stayed in the stance for a while and you were about to speak up just as he let the arrow fly and sink into the bark of the tree, just beside your arrow.

“not bad, not bad. but you were supposed to hit the middle dead on,” you pointed a finger at the arrows, “that is not dead on.”

he scuffed and pointed to said arrow, “sorry, but there seems to be an object in the way. someone forgot to take their arrow back.” he walked to the target and yanked both arrows out, and walked back, handing yours over.

“maybe we should work on some combat. i think our shooting is at its best right now.” you put your bow on the ground and spun to face lo’ak. his eyes just watched you.

“lo’ak? are you fine with combat?” a step forward and he snapped out of his trance.

“y-yeah. combat is fine. but i won’t go easy on you.” he smiled and his fangs poked out. it made your tail waggle.

“wouldn’t be practicing if you went easy on me.” you crouched into a defensive position. the right arm pulled back with your left hand touching the ground. your tail swung low to the grass, shifting over the blades. your ears stood at attention and you watched lo’ak get in a similar position.

it was quiet for a few minutes, both of you waiting to see who would make the first move. when the silence stretches on too long, you get closer to lo’ak and hissed deeply with your fangs showing dominance. he looked thrown off by the display, but it vanished fast and he hissed back and lunged at you.

you rolled out of the way and kept your eyes firmly on his creeping form. your eyes roamed over his body to look for any points of weakness that would allow you to attack. his eyes didn’t look to be fully in the moment, his mind elsewhere and you took advantage. you pounced at the boy, hands latching onto his biceps and throwing him to the ground. the two of you tumbled in the grass and rolled to a stop with you straddling lo’ak and pinning his wrist to the ground.

“that was an easy win. i thought you weren’t going easy on me, syulang?” a smug smile on your face as you let your eyes bounce over lo’ak’s motionless features. your loose hair fell over your shoulders and formed a curtain, hiding your face from outsiders.

he didn’t fight against you or scuff or roll his eyes. he was a blank wall with his eyes following you. you tilted your head, smile slipping. you leaned in closer and peered into his eyes, his widened and you heard the sharp intake of breath.

“did- did i hurt you?” you let up on his wrists, moving back to give him space to breathe.

lo’ak started to shift a bit and you moved your hands from his wrist to sitting on the ground beside his armpits to keep you up. he moved his arms and then pushed himself to his forearms, upper body meeting you halfway.

you stared into each other’s eyes, lo’ak’s golden orbs hypnotizing you into a calm energy. you were so hypnotized that the smirk on his face went ignored by you and the feeling of his legs wrapping around your waist forced you to move off his lap, positions switched. lo’ak straddles you while pinning your wrist down. open mouth and wide-eyed, you were stunned into silence.

“gotcha, paskalin (honey)” lo’ak’s smirk never left his face.

you huffed a laugh, feather top shifting with your breaths. lo’ak’s braids swung in the air, his beads hitting each other as he tilted his head from side to side. you wouldn’t catch his eyes, knowing the heat from his touch would further spread to your face to the tips of your pointed ears.

“wanna go another round?” you heard the smile in his words as the warmth turned to a fire. “uh… uh…” your tail moved off the ground and the furred tip grazed over lo’ak’s leg.

when you made eye contact with the boy still over you, it was like you both could read what the other was thinking. how the sunlight peeking through the leaves shined on them and they were glowing, their eyes staring at each spot on their face making sure to memorize their details. how just a simple touch of skin-to-skin contact makes their heart race quickly. how they so desperately wish to move in closer, breath skating over lips and wishing to know the feeling-

you abruptly pushed lo’ak in the chest when he moved his hands away. he fell to the floor beside you and you quickly jumped off the grass and walked away. you shook your head free of any thoughts coming to fruition, hair tickling your back.

“hey,” his voice made you jump but you turned to him, “you okay? i didn’t hurt you or anything?” his hands reached out for you. his fingers a gentle caress on your cheek.

your eyes softened at the simple touch, “yes. everything is fine. i just- i just got tired suddenly.” a shaky sigh.

his eyes just studied you for a minute or two before nodding his head and picking up the bows and arrows. he handed over yours and the both of you headed back towards home. neither of you spoke up about those moments during combat training.

...

[ladyxskywalker]

This Is Us

A Han Solo & Princess Leia Story

Han & Leia go for a walk & a picnic

“All they had was this bag of chips…if I had my own food truck by now, I’d put these nerf herders out of business!”

“Nerf herders? Really, Han? You’re one to talk.”

Leia raises a brow, smiling.

“I’m serious! All I wanted was a strawberry shortcake pop. Didn’t even have ice cream… who doesn’t have…???”

“Was that ice cream supposed to be for me?”

Han shrugs, all the while the two of them are laughing.

“Maybe…it was supposed to be a surprise! Cut me some slack, will ya, Princess?”

“Mhmm…who knew you’d be such a softie?”

With her petite self, Leia stands on all of her tippy toes, all so she can reach Han to kiss him on the cheek. He melts into her immediately, forgetting all about his complaints about their current lack of snack choices.

“Let’s go back to our picnic blanket, I hear it’s nice and shady there by the water. Come on.”

She takes him by the hand and it’s almost like she is a perfect fit for him when they walk together. Cozying up to his side where his arm so confidently wraps itself around her shoulder. It’s nice on days like this where she can sneak a tender peek at Han wearing his shiny, new, aviator sunglasses. Or, make fun of him when he tries to talk with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. And then they pass by some fishing boats.

“Being out on the water must be lovely. We used to be surrounded by trees and mountains back home when I was little.”

“You miss Alderaan, don’t you?”

For a moment, Leia pauses, looking far off in the distance. She thinks about her mother scolding her for running off with her tiny droid friend into the woods, or her old friend ‘Ben’ who repaired it for her. Then her father, who - by the end of the day, would give her the best hugs.

“I do, but mostly I miss my loved ones.”

Han nods in understanding, remembering something long gone himself. Watching as the sun glimmers off of the surface of all the water. The current, bringing its waves into a light crashing onto the shore. 

“Well, maybe one day…when I’m able to do what I want to do…we could call this our home.”

“Our home?”

“Mhmm, unless you got other plans from now until forever?”

Leia smiles, her eyes suddenly lighting up with joy, forgetting herself when she begins to get choked up. 

“You scoundrel…” she professes, jokingly.

“The one and only!”

By now they’ve made it back to their spot by the trees - the tall ones with the bright yellow leaves that have just started to change color. They sway gently in the wind, before the two of them lay down again.

“Come here.”

Han moves closer to Leia on their blanket in the grass, she’s smiling wide - the happiest probably that she’s ever been. Relaxing, she lays her head to rest upon his chest, while he holds her safe within his arms. They’ve been busy non stop in the last few days, and more than anything, they could both really use a nap. 

But, just before they decide to have their late afternoon sleep beneath the waning sun, she looks up at him - savoring the moment, before giving him a slow, patient kiss...

Quietly thinking to herself, wow, I can’t believe this is us. 

…💌🌼💫

thanks so much for reading 💐 hope you enjoyed this cute little story with leia & han. xo

[bunnyhatty]

carefree laughs, watercolor eyes and bright hair.

ruggie bucchi x you!

hello again ^__^ you must be surprised after nearly a month of me not updating this blog. but i have not forgotten! i just didn't know what to write so i figured it's finally time to write for my favorite twst boy. unfortunately i did not know how to end this so dont bully me for it... i ask you again to please be nice to me ☝️ alao huge warning this is very self indulgent because i am ruggie fan n1 okay bye

his blonde hair swayed with the wind, making it more messy than it already was. blue eyes that shined like the sun, and a cheeky grin that embodied mischief itself.

these are what people see when they come across ruggie bucchi, but not you. you can see so much more of him.

his calloused hands that handle things more gently than anyone, his happiness regarding food, and his gentle, caring nature. he was beautiful and you just can't believe how hard you've fallen.

---

it was any ordinary day for you; run endless errands for crowley, make sure grim doesn't get in trouble, oh prefect can you help over here as well? it was like the school was draining you of life while also pulling all your limbs in different directions. it gets overwhelming, even for someone as stubborn as you.

so, here you were, hiding on top of a tree. it was a difficult struggle to climb, but it provided you some peace. "prefect?" great, you spoke too soon.

you casted your eyes downward and was met with ruggie's big, blue eyes. as you made eye contact, he smirks and his eyes turned cresent. "running away from your chores?" he asked jokingly, and it made you smile just a little bit.

"maybe," you replied as you began wondering how to climb back down. this is so stupid, you're stuck on a tree and ruggie will definitely make fun of you.

as you turned silent, ruggie's eyebrow rose up before a knowing look spread across his face. "are you... stuck? pfft. no, sorry. i didn't mean to laugh," he clears his throat and looked away when you glared at him.

"i'll help you down, prefect! just don't overthink it!" well, now you're definitely overthinking it. you took a deep breath and tried to climb back down just doing the steps you did to climb up but in reverse. obviously, you don't know what you're doing and began falling off the tree.

"prefect!" ruggie squeaked, somehow he caught you. or well, you landed on top of him. both of you groan in pain.

"shit, ruggie! are you okay?" you scrambled off the poor boy and he gives you a smile that almost looked like a grimace. oops.

you were apologizing profusely as you helped him up and he laughed it off, joking that you owe him lunch. while you knew it was a joke, you promised him sincerely to treat him tomorrow and for once he gave you a smile so bright that hid nothing. and your hurt is thumping loudly against your chest and your face is warm. jesus, are you so depraved that you gained a crush on someone just because they were nice?

"your knee's bleeding. we gotta get that cleaned before you get stuck on another tree," he teased but before you could complain, he gently takes your hand and led both of you to the infirmary.

he was pretty fussy, like an older brother, when he was caring for someone. you think he's not even aware of it. and somehow you were unaware of how long you watched him work, by the time you snapped back to reality, he was standing in front of you looking over his work. your knee had been cleaned and bandaged delicately.

"wow, you're really good at this. thank you, ruggie." ruggie waved off your gratitude.

"next time, you can hide in the garden instead of on trees." you jokingly kick his leg and he laughs that unusual giggle of his, the one that goes 'shehehe' it's cute. oh god, you're hopeless.

you opted to stick your out instead, since you don't trust your mouth at this moment. this only made him fall deeper into fits of giggles, is it just you or is it really hot in here? you asked yourself as you touched your warm cheeks.

soon, too soon, ruggie leaves you be with the words "leona's gonna be mad!" and you're left with your thoughts and feelings. not a recommended experience as you laid down on a bed and re-evaluated your entire life decisions that ended you crushing on the guy that injured your friends and some other students for a school sport. christ.

since then, you've became hyper-aware of the blonde boy. his lingering smell in the hallway, his giggle that echoes in your ears, he's everywhere and maybe it's just in your head but it feels like the world really doesn't want you to move on from this little crush.

when it's finally your turn to order food, that little promise struck you and you bought an extra sandwich for ruggie. grim gave you a questioning stare when you told him you had to go somewhere but you didn't care. you had one thing in your mind.

ruggie, suprisingly, was alone in the garden when you found him. determined leona wasn't around, you marched in front of him. "hey, ruggie." you cringed a little at your stiffness but whatever.

ruggie cracked an eye open before he flashed you a smirk. "prefect! couldn't get enough of me, can'tcha? shishishi!" you kinda wanted to pinch him but you decided to be nice enough not to, for today.

"here, like i promised." and you gently sat the wrapped sandwich on his stomach, and his expression stops at a surprised one before he smiled again.

"woah! i thought you were jokin'! thanks!" he eagerly unwraps the sandwich and takes bites that were big enough to savor the taste.

you watched him silently as he made his way to end of the sandwich, his cheeks full and some crumbs stuck next to his mouth but oh god, he was so cute. he was cute and pretty and you really wanted ro kiss him.

"thanks again, prefect!" he exaggeratedly laid back down while petting his stomach. you laugh a little, stress relieved due to how happy he was. unconciously, you reached out and dusted the crumbs away from his mouth and uniform.

"you eat like a child, ruggie." ruggie stared at you, eyes a little wide and mouth agape. you didn't know what you did, but you were glad you did it as you watched red spread across his cheeks. he lets out a fake cough before standing up.

"uh- i forgot! leona needed me to get his laundry! bye, prefect!" he rushed out and left you in shock. before you toppled over in a fit of laughter. maybe you weren't the only hopeless one.

[thankyouforbeingsowrong]

i realised that i never sent you an ask and was horrified -- so, how about sweater weather or if someone already sent that in "this is a very long hug now sort of hug" (a bitch is trying to romanticise autumn and all the dark days and rain it will bring😭)

Don’t be horrified haha, I still haven’t finished your last prompt from forever ago, SORRY XD  

BUT I will say it was extra motivating to come up with something to help you through the autumn blues. Also, I took sweater weather quite literally here, and it's decidedly not rainy, but I hope you like it! (I’m thinking thoughts about that long hug though...I might do another autumn ficlet with that, for your health of course 😉) 

[Soft prompts list is here if anyone else wants to suggest something 😊] 

- 

James straddles the bench seat of the picnic table, watching the smoke from his cigarette drift away on a crisp breeze. September has brought more changes than just the season this year, though he still appreciates the colours of the trees as they gently sway, the early falling leaves fluttering gracefully to the ground. 

Quiet Sunday evenings always seem to possess an aimless, ephemeral quality to James; caught between the past and the future, but somehow disconnected from the present. It’s a calming sort of feeling, when he’s in a receptive mood. He closes his eyes and exhales another slow stream of smoke, feeling the wind ruffle his hair. 

James turns at the sound of approaching footsteps, smiling his thanks when Robbie hands him a pint, before he catches on to Robbie’s barely concealed smirk. 

“New jumper?” Robbie asks, his tone light and teasing. 

“What?” James looks down at himself and groans internally. 

“No, it’s nice, just not your usual style.” 

The jumper in question is a perfectly sensible dark green knit, but he will concede that there is a large, bright orange cat emblazoned across the chest. Not his usual style indeed, or even particularly well-fitting, but it is surprisingly comfortable—one might go so far as to call it cosy, even. 

“It was a birthday gift.” James sniffs, turning his glass on the table. 

“From who, your gran?” Robbie chuckles into his pint. 

James makes a pinched face and Robbie grins. “No—was it really?” 

“I think her eyesight’s going.” 

James had come straight from visiting her to the pub, forgetting he’d put the bloody thing on before he left. He’d wanted to show her he appreciated it, knowing she must have had to ask someone at the care home to help her get it for him. 

“Well, I think it’s sweet, did she tuck a fiver in the card as well?” 

“Not quite.” James reaches into his pocket and pulls out a 50p coin. Robbie laughs again, the sound slips like a warm sip of whisky into James’ belly. 

“She’s got the right idea, about the jumper at least—it is starting to get a bit nippy.” 

James stubs out his cigarette in the ash tray on the table. “Did you want to move inside?” 

“Nah, ‘s nice out here.” Robbie gestures around them with his glass. “All the colours. I like this time of year.” 

“Well, if you get too cold, let me know—you can take a turn with the jumper, it’s a bit wide around middle for me.” 

“Oi, watch it. You’re in your mid-thirties now, lad. It’s all downhill from here.” 

James squints ahead. The sun is beginning to sink towards the horizon, casting long shadows of the trees that shiver and ripple like water across the grass. 

“I don’t know.” James lights another cigarette, tipping his head back and blowing the smoke above him, hoping the wind might carry it high over Robbie’s head. “It feels rather the opposite to me. Full of possibilities.”  

He looks over, gratified to see the warm affection in Robbie’s gaze.  

“Aye, no age limit to possibilities, that’s for sure.” 

They sit for a while in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and watching the world move around them, until James starts to feel a restless energy welling up. 

“I think I need a walk.” 

“It’ll be dark soon.” Robbie warns. 

“All the better to hide my jumper, lest some feline-obsessed mugger tries to take it for himself.” 

Robbie rolls his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” 

James inhales with surprise as the honest answer jumps to the tip of his tongue, twisting his hands in his lap to steel his resolve. 

“Whatever you like.” 

Robbie smiles softly at him and finishes his drink. 

“Well, who am I to argue with the birthday boy? Where to, James?” 

“The destination’s not really the point,” he muses, picking the direction with the least resistance out of the beer garden. 

As they set off together towards the river, Robbie puts a hand on James’ shoulder, squeezing lightly. 

“It’s actually quite soft this, I like it.”  

He runs his hand up and down James’ back a few times, the feel of it like an electric current running through whole left side of James’ body. It’s all he can do to put one foot in front of the other, matching Robbie’s pace, step for step. 

James reaches out, their hands finding each other by touch, fingers weaving easily together. He looks up at the sky above them as it blooms into vibrant streaks of pink and orange, and they wander on, with the invigorating autumn breeze fluttering at their backs. 

-

[nerosdayinanime]

Cold

A gust of wind blew across him, ruffling soft fabric against his skin and loose strands of hair along his face. His eyebrows scrunched- Freezing -something landed above his eye- Snow? He blinked his eyes open to the open sky above, clouded but not dark, empty branches swaying around the edges in an echo of the harsh winds above their reach. Serene. He laid there watching their gentle dance, blithe and enchanted. Feeling the stray gusts wash over him every once in a while, taking away the curls of his warm breath against the cold and throwing the specks of white into a wild dance above him. He could feel, the cold wind and snow of winter, the slow rise and fall of his chest with each breath. He could hear, the whistle of wind and quiet clacking of branches bumping together, his own steady heartbeat through his neck.

He tried to catch a snowflake on his tongue, slack and heavy in his mouth instead, he grunted. Letting his head fall to the side trying to recollect his thoughts, breath mixing with the low fog surrounding the little clearing. A massive gray... boulder. Struck in half... a thick rope, ends frayed with time after being cut the same time as the rock. It was so familiar. Almost nostalgic.

Another snowflake landed on his cheek, he closed his eyes as he sat up, feeling each muscle slowly wake up as he rocked upright. He hazily blinked again, looking down at his hands. So rough, I should take better care of them.. Something ticked in his mind, he lifted his head to look around the empty gray clearing he found himself in- Behind me. He whirled around- stopping abruptly at bright pink. A little girl, looking at him from her place between the trees. Kind sea-foam green eyes and a serene smile, gone with a blink. Her presence he picked up on, gone as the rest of her- What? Where'd she go? He reached the direction she was standing- hesitated, rubbed at his icy dry eyes, Where am I?- He finally took in the clearing around him- dirt pressed and well-trodden in the center and around the boulder, yet so.. uninhabited. No one's been here for years.. But he could feel in his bones the song and dance and laughter and arguments had here, everything so familiar yet so- wrong. Everything was missing. What did they do here?

Why don't I remember anything? echoed in his head, feeling lost and alone in the foggy clearing that rang of home. He looked down at his rough hands again, Home... home is other people. Where are my people? Hands tightened to fists, Who are my people!? He shakily stood up, quickly finding balance on sturdy legs. Hn. He looked around the clearing for the girl, finding a path just to the side of where she was standing. She must know something. She looked like she knew me. Walking through the gentle snowfall, trying not to lose his thoughts to the atmosphere again- Winter... everything is dead. Nn. he grimaced at the thought, Too harsh... asleep. That sounds better. Nature was on pause for the cold, waiting out the harshest winds to rest and regroup. Shells of woody plants no longer in bloom trailed alongside the worn path, little of anything to provide any protection from the wind. His hand fiddled with the edge of his kimono, worn thin from use. Despite it he wasn't overly cold, aside from the occasional prick of ice landing on his skin. Off-white haori, black hakama and undershirt, flashy looking geometric pattern shared with his leg wraps, Pretty neat.. the red accent looks nice too. A blur of deep blue came to mind, vivid and striking. Blue? No.. that wouldn't fit me, besides- blue's not my color.

He stops in his tracks.

Whose color is it? He tries to think- of the pretty royal blue, a face, a silhouette, anything- ..nothing but blanks. He growled in frustration, Why can't I remember anything?

A crow's call startles him out of his thoughts, he looks up just in time to see a haggard looking crow flying right past him along the path. "Oi, crow, have you seen the girl wearing pink around here?" To his surprise, the crow landed on a branch and looked down at him, "Caw! Girl with pink?" It can actually talk? "Yeah! Did you see where she went?" "Caw! She's this way!" The bird started up and continued flying down the path, he quickly moved to follow. Is this thing really leading me to her? Handy. The trail from the clearing leads down a mountain, his sense of home expanding the further from the clearing he walks. Everything's desolate and quiet now, but he can feel the echoes of excited chatter and pleasant conversations as they walked under swaying leaves, the dappled light of the sun leaking through to the ground they walked, like liquid gold. He felt so warm at the sensation he couldn't fully picture, he tried to imagine the girl from the clearing by his side, smiling as he chattered about nothing- it felt wrong. The warmth and hazy brightness turned cold and dim, a sudden image- of her looking up at him with that same serene smile from his place atop the broken stone, smiling fox mask glowing in the diffused light. He blinked at the clarity of it, the flash of melancholy that accompanied it. He shook his head and watched for the bird, making sure he's still following.

A flat stream ahead in the path caught his attention, instinctively looking left through the barren trees he could see a great waterfall in the distance. He could feel the wash of freezing water crashing over him, teeth chattering as he laughed at something said. He turned back to watching the path pass below his feet, the more of these hazy flashes of memories the more fond he felt of the place, more like home, the more he felt a deep unease. A deep sense of absence in his core, I forgot something important. Someone important. All these little glimpses and hints of memories... I'll figure it out eventually. He gave a glance at a cabin towards the base of the mountain, slowing at the sudden hit of nostalgia.

"Caw! Meeting!" He whipped back towards the bird flying ahead of him, not waiting for his wandering mind. He jogged to catch up as it sped its pace in the air, "Right." Snow drifted and swirled around him, the incoordination from when he first woke up completely gone, replaced with a sense of strength and confidence. He sped to a full sprint, testing the bounds- legs pounding forward, a twitch as a branch snapped below his feet, Mistake, steps turning silent as thick forest faded to woods. He didn't feel a hint of exertion, This is going easy. He slows to a regular pace again, watching for the bird to change direction as they came up to a small village.

Everyone's inside, cozy and protected from the cold.. Cool. makes it easier for us, don't have to talk to anyone. He jogged down the main road, instinctively looking towards the empty road where vendors usually set up during the warmer months- someone's quiet voice mumbling and him repeating it louder for them. The earlier thought finally registered, They don't like talking to other people. Blue. Willingly hung out with me under a waterfall. ...Quite an odd character, ne?

[remialatus]

We Were Always Meant to Say Goodbye (Scaramouche x Female reader)

(This is Chapter One of my fanfiction posted on Archive! Look for more of my work on there!)

Chapter 1:

“Please… Don’t leave me!”

I remember… Those were the exact words I said to him whenever he left. I desperately tried to get him to stay, but it just wasn't enough.

“Hey… Say something! Come on… Please, don't leave me!”

My mouth had worked faster than my thoughts, each word that had left my lips was like a plea that couldn't get him to stay, no matter how hard they worked. They just kept moving, just like now, except this time, I'm leaving.

“There… is no seeing me again… Except for the memories of us…you hold so dear in your heart…”

“Please…don’t leave me… Don’t betray me just like everybody else did!”

As my eyes began to close, I felt two arms wrap around me as I was pulled into a hug.

~

I slowly opened my eyes and was greeted by the bright sunlight. I forgot to close the curtains on the window last night, so the sun was shining directly into my eyes. I looked over at the wall to see what time it was.

9:37 A.M.

I let out a slight yawn as I tried to crawl out of bed, but I already felt myself feeling dizzy. Must’ve not slept well last night. As I stood up slowly off of the bed, I kept my arms close to the bed in case I fell back down. I just stood for a few seconds before moving anywhere.

I decided to walk to my kitchen and grab a glass of water to help with my sore throat. Every morning, I would always wake up dehydrated.

I have a small house, so my kitchen is not far from my bedroom. I took a few steps out of my bedroom door and I was already in the kitchen. I walked up to the cabinet with all of my cups in it and tried to grab a glass, but sometimes I forget how short I am. I have to get on my toes anytime I want to grab a glass. I hate being 5’3.

After a few tries, I successfully grabbed a glass. I walked up to the sink and poured some water into my glass and took a sip. Ah… Refreshing. Drinking a nice glass of water was always the best thing in the morning.

It was a Monday, so I decided to go outside and check my mailbox to see if I received the letter from my mother. My mother sends me letters a few times throughout the week. She doesn’t necessarily follow a schedule, she just sends them whenever she wants.

My mother used to be a Scholar in the Akademiya until she came down with an incurable Sumeru disease called Eleazar. She was sent to the Fatui to get treatment for her Eleazar, and she has been giving me updates in the mail ever since her first day there.

It was a sunny day outside, and the temperature was surprisingly high for only nine in the morning. The birds were singing to each other left and right while the trees swayed effortlessly in the wind. I walked down the gravel path and to the mailbox. I opened it to see a white envelope inside. It must be from her. And sure enough, when I flipped over the envelope, it had her name on it.

I decided to wait to open it until I went back inside. I walked back up to my front door and went back in. I decided to sit at my desk and read it in case I wanted to write a reply back. I quickly grabbed my reading glasses, turned on the lamp on my desk, and sat down on my chair. I eagerly tore open the envelope and grabbed the paper inside and unfolded it. It wrote:

Dear Y/n,

Hello, dear, I hope everything is going well for you. I’m sorry to tell you this, but I don't think I’ll be leaving this place any time soon. Researchers are still looking for a cure for Eleazar, but one has not been found yet.

If you would, hun, please tell your father that I said hello. I would love to come visit you two, but I’m currently not allowed to. Come and visit me sometime, okay? I would love to see your beautiful faces, and I would love to see how much you've grown honey. I want to know if you got your dad’s tallness!

Stay safe for me, okay? And don’t forget to come visit me!

Love you bunches, dear.

-Mom

I could feel the tears forming in my eyes after I finished reading the letter. I always cried every time I read a letter from my mom, knowing that she could die at any moment and I may not know when that is. It also scared me knowing that she was in the hands of Fatui, but she seems to be in excellent care.

After wiping my face full of tears, I decided to pick up my pen and write her a letter back.

Dear mom,

A year from today, you were sent to the Fatui due to Eleazar. My journey hasn't been the same without you, and you being gone is really starting to affect me. I cry almost every time I read your letters.

I still can’t believe researchers have found absolutely nothing, it's ridiculous! The Akademiya needs to educate people better, honestly!

I wish I could come to visit you, but I’m a little sketchy about the Fatui. They scare me a lot, Mom, and I hope they are treating you right. If I find out they aren’t, I’ll kick their asses.

Sadly, I did not take Dad’s tallness. I’m so short that I struggle to grab a glass of water in the morning. I’m only 5’3, and I haven’t grown at all in the past year.

I’m thinking about visiting Dad today to get my mind off of things, so I’ll definitely tell him you said hello!

Feel better soon! <3

-Y/n

The reason why I haven't seen my dad in a while is because he is never home. He works two jobs for both of us. We were a poor family before my mom left, and now he's responsible for my mom’s medical payments, so my dad is currently struggling to pay for our place to stay.

My dad gets a break and normally goes fishing around lunchtime, so I’ll visit him then. I folded up the letter I wrote and stuck it in an envelope and quickly put it in my mailbox to be delivered.

When I came back inside, I decided to throw together some egg rolls for breakfast. I didn't have many ingredients in my place to make anything, so egg rolls were all I could come up with. As usual, I struggled to reach the ingredients, and at one point I had to grab a stool, but I successfully grabbed all of my materials needed.

After cooking the egg rolls, I sat down at the small table in front of the window. I made sure to eat slowly, but not too slowly that my food was cold by the time I finished. While eating, I sat in silence with just my thoughts and the sound of my chewing.

I was worried sick about my mother. She loved studying for her classes at the Akademiya. She had amazing grades. But after she got sick with Eleazar, it felt like all of her dreams were crushed. After she was sent to the Fatui, I stopped visiting my dad. I isolated myself from everyone. Because it’s been a year since my mom was sent to the Fatui, I felt like it was a good time to visit my father.

I had finished eating my egg rolls. Most of it had been eaten, there was just a bite or two left. I stood up from the table and walked over to the counter, throwing away the leftovers and putting my dirty plate into the sink along with the other dishes I used to make breakfast. I probably should wash them, but I'll tend to them later, as I was eager to get him a gift. I went back to my bedroom to pick out my outfit for today. Since it was summertime, it was going to be hot outside today with a lot of sunshine. I was looking through my closet and decided to wear my floral Yukata, the colors of yellow and green worked together to give it a simple, but beautiful design. I grabbed some white socks long enough to cover my ankles that I could wear with my brown sandals.

I know how much my dad loves to go fishing, ever since I was little, he would take me fishing for food. Anytime he caught something good, Mom would cook it. Even if Mom wouldn’t be there this time, I knew the fish would still taste as delicious as ever. I had decided to buy him a new fishing rod as a gift. I grabbed some Mora and headed out the door. I decided to take a stroll to Inazuma City on Narukami Island to visit Kujirai Momiji. I had heard she was a member of the Inazuma Fishing Association, so I decided to go buy a fishing rod from her.

Narukami Island was absolutely beautiful. Many purple, pink, and a few red trees swayed elegantly in the wind. Since it was summertime, many flowers had recently bloomed in the grass. Some flowers are raised above the rest, others are laid flat on the ground from people walking over them, and some are still rising as the grass helps them stay upright.

I noticed a woman wearing a sage green Yukata standing by the shore while holding a fishing rod. She had short black hair tied back into two pigtails. She looked like a fisher, so I decided to talk to her.

“Hello there! Are you here to join the Kujirai Guild?” She hollered to me as I approached her. I was confused about what she said.

“What’s the Kujirai Guild?” I questioned.

“It's an association for the children of the sea!” She replied. She seemed to be in the Kujirai Guild, maybe even its leader.

“Cool! My name’s Y/n and I was wondering if you could help me out.” I announced.

“Greetings, Y/n! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am the successor to the Kujirai Fishing Method and the founder of the Kujirai Guild — Kujirai Momiji, daughter of the ocean! As a fisherwoman, I was born near the ocean, grew up near the ocean… and someday, I will return to it as well.” She promised. Her love for the ocean made me smile, for she reminded me a lot of my father.

“That’s very sweet, Momiji. I hope that you can return to the ocean soon!”

“Your words mean a lot to me, Y/n. So, what brings you here today?” She asked.

“I was wondering if you sold any fishing supplies.”

“Of course! We need excellent tools to do the work that we must, after all. You indeed have the qualities of a child of the sea, so go ahead and take your pick!” She squealed. I decided to buy a rare Inazuman fishing rod from her. It has great quality and a long fishing line to fish far away from you.

After buying the fishing rod, I started to walk towards the boat dock in Ritou. My dad loves to fish at a beach called Nazuchi Beach on Yashiori Island. I have no choice but to get there by boat. While walking to Ritou, I looked up at the beautiful blue sky, watching the birds fly by, but also watching my steps carefully, trying not to step on any flowers standing tall in the grass.

When I finally arrived at the boat dock, that is when the anxiety hit me. I nervously paced back and forth on the wharf, my heart pounding in my chest. I stared out at the still water, hoping and praying that the boat would arrive soon. I felt like her heart was in my throat and I was both nervous and excited. I was anxious to see my father again and eager to give him the gift that I just bought.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally spotted a boat in the distance. With a burst of excitement, I watched as it slowly approached the dock. This was a journey I had been longing to undertake for the past year. I was finally heading to visit my father after so long. I quickly climbed aboard the boat and it quickly made its way to Yashiori Island.

After a few minutes, the boat stopped at a port and I got off, eager to see my father for the first time in a year. He was standing on the sand, and when he saw me, his face lit up with a huge smile. He opened his arms wide and embraced me close to him. The two of us embraced tightly, our tears blending with the salty ocean air.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Y/n. I’m so happy to finally see you again.” He cried.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. I shut myself out, and I had to build up the courage to come see you again. Here! I bought you a gift!” I handed him the fishing rod that I had bought with the Mora I saved up. “It’s a rare Inazuman fishing rod with high quality. I figured you would enjoy it.”

“Thank you so much, dear. I appreciate it.” He grabbed the fishing rod and the handle seemed to fit perfectly into his slim hands. He handed me the other fishing rod he was holding and invited me to fish with him, and there was no way I was going to turn him down.

“Mom wanted me to say hello to you, by the way.”

“Tell her I said hello as well. How is she doing?”

“She said that researchers still haven’t found a cure for Eleazar. She won’t be coming back for a while, but she does want us to come to visit her sometime.” I slightly look down at my feet. I was still slightly angry that the researchers haven’t found anything yet.

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

We stood there in silence for a few minutes. I wasn’t expecting this to be so awkward, but I guess that’s what happens after you cut off contact with everybody for a year. Neither of us had successfully caught anything, so I decided to go and try something else.

“I’m going to go look for some Sea Ganoderma. Is that okay?” I turned to look at him. He gave me a slight nod of approval, so I walked into the shallow water and began searching for blue flowers. I was a strong swimmer, but the ocean waves were constantly pushing me back as I searched the seafloor for a hint of the vibrant colors I was looking for.

As I finally spotted a hint of blue in the water, I walked up to the flower to pick it up. While I’m fighting the waves in an attempt to get close to the flower, I suddenly hear the sound of somebody crying. I looked around desperately, trying to locate the sound, when I finally saw a boy in the distance, about twenty yards away.

I noticed he was sitting down with his knees pulled to his chest. He had his head down in his arms while he was crying out loud. Instinctively, I ran forward, the wet sand slowing me down but I kept driving forward, determined to reach him.

I finally reached him and gently laid my hand on his back, attempting to comfort him. He slowly lifted his head and began to look at me.

“Hey, I could hear you crying from all the way back there… Are you doing okay?” I observed the boy a little bit as I waited for an answer. He seemed to be somewhere between twelve and fourteen years old. The boy slightly parted his lips like he wanted to say something, but then his lips began to quiver. He looked into my eyes for a split second before suddenly leaping towards me with open arms and eyes full of tears. He knocked me off of my balance and hugged me tightly while crying out loud.

“There there… It’s okay to cry. Don’t hold back, okay? Just let them all flow…And get whatever you need to get off of your chest if you would like.” I suggested. I wasn’t the greatest at comforting people, but I could tell that this boy was in so much pain and all he wanted was for someone to be there for him.

“Why?… Why was I abandoned?… Why was I betrayed?! Why am I so worthless?!” He sobbed while hugging me even tighter.

This poor boy… I must help him.

[lordkingsmith]

January lyric prompts 2024

1. When the grey wolf howls outside my door/I wake to nothing but this swaying house and creaking floors-miles by Bobby lens

2. Leaving through the door without a word/You won't even notice, little bird/Better off dead so I reckon I'm headed to hell instead-bells in Santa Fe by Halsey

3. I’ve hid in isolation to have a conversation/with my own thoughts/so sing a duet with me till the sun sets/beyond the mountains/woah this life ain’t long/woah like silhouettes/of mountains I drink from/don’t you leave me just yet/just sing this melody- silhouettes of mountains by Timbre Shore

4. All in all I think I'm fallin' into love with afterlife/She's the ghost of Chicago/She got lost somehow/She gets married tomorrow/Oh and I'm goin' down-ghost of Chicago by Noah Floersch

5. This is a life (every possibility)/Free from destiny (I choose you, and you choose me)/Not only what we sow /(every space and every time)/Not only what we show, we (we, ooh)-this is a life by son lux

6. From lost sights/Have lilacs frozen over/Have all the trees outgrown her/Were we clean when the morning came/Cause darling the sunrise has gone slower-paper teeth by Elias Hix

7. Welcome to the party, I know it's kinda funny/That everyone is acting like they know you personally/Just play along, be nice and all/You won't get far being on your own-gladiator by Jann

8. Whip me slap me, punk funk/New York clubbers, bump drunk/Dark like liquorice, bar slam/Move it, this is your jam-heavy metal lover by lady Gaga

9. Skin is a word, love is not a sin/People are bad, people are good/Just like the moon is a stone/But it's a star when it's dark/And now she's hiding-apple tree by Aurora

10. You once made this promise /To stay by my side/But after some time you just pushed me aside/You never thought that a girl could be strong/Now I'll show you how to go on-bad boy by cascada

11. Baby after just one touch/you can never get enough/You should know I like it rough/But you'll get used to me/Baby you can count me dead/Sleep by all the things you said/But baby you look good in red, so just keep killing me-you might be the killer by harlo

12. I feel an ache where my mind was/I try to think but it's no use/Tumbleweed, bloody knees/I would crawl through broken glass to get home-possession of a weapon by ashnikko

13. And the sky was the limit/Now, the stars where we're livin'/It's the vibe when we're in it/It'll blow your mind-perfect from Trolls 3

14. I want to inhale your disease/I would do anything for you/I am guilty/I get goosebumps when you're near me/You're just like the movies/I am guilty for your love-Guilty (for your love) by Yonaka

15. Holes in your pockets watch you lose/Anything you thought was meant for you/Daddy asks you if you'll stay/Doesn't know he's the one who made you feel this way-blame the moon by Hazlett

16. Tiptoe round the circus as everyone cheers for nothing/The maddest and the broken hide behind/The thinning of the veil/I wander down the road as my friends/Are slamming doors behind me/I ponder at my own feet scrambling on without me-Tomorrow by Harrison Storm

17. But love I know if I stayed/I wouldn't live long in this cage/It's just the growing pains-growing pains by Crystal Skies & SOUNDR

18. I did send you a note/On the wind for to read/Our names there together/Must have fallen like a seed-in this shirt by the irrepressibles

19. Green where my red love lies, was it all? /Don’t wear your winning prize, let it fool/Oh, what a waste, I’ll be locked in your heaven, always /and oh, what a way, to be living with all of your pain/and oh, what a way, to be locking your heaven away /and oh, what a wave you have made-Colourway by Novo Amor

20. It's glowing/Embers barely showing/Proof of life in the shadows/Dancing on my plans-leave the city by twenty one pilots

21. I'm so tired of hiding what I feel/So here I am, not gonna disappear/Because I cannot fake it-bad girl by aviva

22. All my life, all my life/I've been chasing shiny things/Blind my face, blind my face/Save me from this suffering/Oh, can you blame my sin?/Touch me like a lover-believer by syml

23. Did you reminisce signing my death certificate?/You almost got away with it/But the reaper snitched, now you got to admit to/Your crimes, your lies/So slick, so sly, yeah-body bag by neoni

24. Nothing makes me confused/No wonder why/I'm still in hell/This is the moment, come/Now, it's time to choose-true by yoari

25. If we just wanna be free/Maybe we're better off as part-time/lovers/So sad you didn't notice/So sad you didn't notice that/"Paris hurt more for me"-part time lovers by hazlett

26. The salt on your skin when you're kissing me/We build a fire on the beach/Sometimes moments like these/Are all that we need/You lean your head against mine/And tonight everything's alright-lost by the sea by Fabian Kuhn

27. Am I a villain or a saint? Let me lead the way/Resting bitch face on the move, fuck you have to say/I know (I know, I know, I know), I am tough as a stone/I've lived a lot of life that not a lot will understand/The type of life that gives you scars before you take command-villain by Missio

28. You paved your Hades/With precious stone/Made an heirloom to patricians/And the rich alone/And the toll for crossing/I'd owe Charon/Would atrophy a half of me/The heart of gold, ah-ooh-cold by the oh hello’s

29. Lonesome roads/And the same old clothes/Radio for company/Home, my home/And these dreams of you/Are all that comfort me-Home by Max Jury

30. City's breaking down on a camel's back/They just have to go, 'cause they don't know wack/So while you fill the streets, it's appealing to see/You won't get out the county, 'cause you're bad and free-feel good inc by gorillaz

31. Right now, I'm shameless/Screamin' my lungs out for ya/Not afraid to face it/I need you more than I want to/Need you more than I want to/Show me you're shameless-shameless by camila cabello

[rokugenshiki]

Inspiration: The Willow Maid (Erutan), Hijo de la Luna (Mecano)

another old piece I wrote some time ago, possibly with a lot of poetic license. since I’m quite satisfied with how it turned out, though, there we go!

(still under the cut, since it’s long-ish)

It happened  a late afternoon.

Asra had spent a good deal of time speaking with Nadia, about both the investigation itself and to grant his fellow magician a deserved break. He had nothing against the Countess, but he knew she could be rather… demanding, sometimes, when she assigned a job. Badr didn’t fail to mention the “damned test” Nadia put her through, using one of their Arcana to see if she could follow magic traces with moving targets.

Still, Nadia was a nice host, really. Once she warmed up to a person, she wouldn’t hold back with gifts or shows of appreciation. An aspect that finally brought to the magician’s current predicament.

Taking a stroll around the castle with the ruler, talking about lighter topics. More or less.

“Asra, I must ask a… delicate question.” the Countess began at a point, an unexpected sigh leaving her lips. “Do you think Badr is bothered by my actions? It’s true that we didn’t exactly started with the right foot, but… I suppose I still haven’t redeemed myself?”

The magician looked at her curiously, a little taken aback from the confession. Then, he smiled amiably. “It’s not like that, Nadi. Badr is just horrible at expressing feelings.” he admitted, fondness as well as bluntness in his voice.

“You say that, but I fear I have… ah, offended her, with my last gift.”

The dress. 

Badr showed him the garment the evening before. It was a beautiful piece made with a soft, almost feather-like fabric that Badr herself defined “like a cloud”. Nadia had given it to her some days prior, if he recalled correctly, while Badr was just having a “bad” moment.

Shaking his head, he placed a hand on the Countess shoulder. Her gaze fixed in his almost immediately and he smiled once again, a honest and reassuring smile. “I know where the problem lies, Nadi, and believe me if I say it’s not as you think. She’s not always comfortable in dresses and, as you may guess, prefers slacks over skirts in general.”

As he finished his explanation, the pair passed by one of the large windows that granted them a clear image of the garden. Before he could continue, however, his eyes caught glimpse of something—or rather, someone.

“I’m well aware of her preferences, but her figure is—Asra?”

Nadia stopped herself mid-sentence, as the magician brought his right index to his lips, a secretive smile telling her to keep quiet. She followed him when he gestured her to, getting silently on the balcony that oversaw the garden.

There, oblivious of the audience she got, Badr was crouching on the ground, bare-foot, fixing her handmade anklets before standing up. She was wearing the dress Nadia gave her, much to the Countess’ surprise.

Before the two could say or do anything, the dark haired magician started to move, her eyes closed as she danced on inaudible notes. The dress’ ends fluttered around, each step and movement was executed fluidly, with an elegance so unexpected that Nadia could only observe the show with delight.

She knew there was more than the usual frown and sharp words, but now Badr’s reminded her of the willow tree in the maze, flexible and gracious, swaying at the wind.

“See? I think she likes it. She just wasn’t ready to wear it.” Asra’s voice was only a murmur and got a simple nod as answer.

*

Each step she took felt like growing closer and closer with the elements themselves. Even if the contact lasted only a few moments, she could feel grass and soil under her feet, a spark of life reverberating around her.

Earth was her mother and her home, her first prayer in the morning and last at night. If she focused enough, she could feel the light thrumming coming from the ground - life at its most natural, purest form - and that alone had always the power to make her relax, even after a stressing day in the city.

As much as Asra tried to teach her his element, water couldn’t just become as important to her as earth was since her birth.

It didn’t take long for her to notice the lingering stares from the balcony - her magic sensed the familiar presence of her mentor, together with one which she still wasn’t totally accustomed to. Her friendship with Nadia was still something she could work on, but nonetheless the endless kindness of the noble host was something Badr wanted to treasure. Not because of the gifts she received, but simply because she felt the woman’s honest and good intentions. 

People like her were hard to come by, in all times. Badr wanted to treasure their relationship.

Gulping down the embarrassment of being stared at in such a moment, she held out her hands to the two of them, an open invite to join her, much to Asra’s surprise. 

The three of them danced and danced and danced, with no real music guiding them other than the pace set from one and each of them. 

Badr couldn’t recall how much time had passed since they started, but soon enough Nadia excused herself to go back to her duties. Her mentor, Asra, followed like a few more minutes, after telling her to try and not exhaust herself too much--which was funny: after all that moving, Badr just felt even more energized than before.

Still barefoot, the Apprentice walked around and in the little maze surrounding the familiar fountain she used some time before to get in touch with Asra. She didn’t feel like going back inside ye. The energy she felt from the dance before, the vivid aura she could feel around her even in that moment, made leaving very difficult, after all. It still wasn’t like taking a walk in the woods outside Vesuvia where her dearest familiar lived, but it was something.

Luckily, even the obnoxious selfishness and the poor style the later Count had couldn’t completely erase the nature from the castle. That, or it was all Nadia’s merit. Unsurprisingly, Badr tended to the latter.

A chuckle left her lips - she felt no guilt in talking, or thinking, bad of Lucio. 

From what she heard and saw, he was not a nice person, nor one she could get along with. She’d rather punch him in the face probably, but that would have to wait anyways. 

For the moment, the Apprentice was rather satisfied with simply resting in her favorite element.

*

A few hours later, Asra went back to find her before it became too dark outside, only to find her leaning back on the willow tree near the fountain. Her aura, as he could see, still was saturated with natural energy: it thrummed pleasingly around her in such a way that he could see the surroundings echoing with it, albeit more silently.

He sometimes wondered if  Badr knew how strong her magic could become if she kept linking herself to the elements like she did that day. That is, if she knew what she was doing. It wouldn’t be the first time she pulled something like that, following the way her instinct and magic itself laid out for her, so it was a fair doubt he had.

Honestly, his dearest was either incredibly intuitive or unbelievably lucky sometimes.

That was his last thought before he walked up to her sleeping form, ready to wake her up.

[chalcid]

Seeking Me Out

first previous

A few days later, there was a knock at Gertrude’s door. It was a cloudy cold afternoon, with a wind that ran straight through her, icing her bones. Gris was standing there, hands in sweatshirt pockets, leaning casually against the porch column.

“Well, I’ve made two bad impressions now,” Gris said. Her tone was dry, but she was looking at Gertrude almost bashfully. “Any chance you’d let me try for a third?”

“Sure,” Gertrude said.

Awkward silence. Neither really knew what to say to the other.

“Sorry for upsetting you about Jane,” Gertrude said, eyes fixed to her muddy sneakers. “I really wanted to believe she was good deep down that I didn’t think about how that might make you feel. I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Gris said. “You’re fine. I know you were just trying to be an optimist about human nature. It just reminds me of some ethics paradox about how being kind to the unkind just hurts everyone, I don’t know. Sorry for freaking out.”

She paused and added. “I apparently do that more than I thought.”

“It’s okay,” Gertrude said. “Thanks for helping with the hole. I got the tree planted, did you see?”

Gris looked at it, tilting her head curiously, “It’s a little tree.”

“Yeah,” Gertrude said. “I think it’s a cute tree. “

“Thought it’d be a bit bigger, to be honest.”

It was a scraggly sapling three feet high, with emerald leaves that fluttered and swayed in the wind. Curious crows had already begun to perch in it.

They watched it for a moment in peace.

Gertrude blurted “It must be hard for you.”

“Hard for me to do what,” Gris asked.

A cool breeze swept through them, sending the windchimes singing.

“I don’t know. Making friends, I guess,” Gertrude said.

“Hard for me? To make friends?” Gris laughed. “Not really, no. “     “I mean, people just get a little instinctively scared of the unknown,” Gertrude said. She sighed and shook her head, burying her face in her hands.“You must think I’m so rude.”     “No, you’re fine,” Gris said, smiling and stepping closer. “Normally I’m quite good at winning people over.”

Gertrude giggled “Enough charm to outweigh the uncanny valley?”

“The monstrosity is part of the charm,” Gertrude said, twirling her hair around a long silver claw. ”I think it’s because people enjoy being afraid.”

“No? They don’t.”

“Yes,” Gris argued. She stepped closer to Gertrude. “There’s something in us that craves fear. Our heart races, our minds go wild. Fear is, in its odd way, like falling in love. And I promise you, darling, friendship with me is thrilling.”

“I don't crave fear” Gertrude said, turning away slightly “I hate scary stuff. Fear is deeply unpleasant.”

“Oh, everyone thinks that. But just wait,” Gris purred. “Soon enough, you’ll be seeking me out.”

Gris’ talons brushed against Gertrude’s cheek. Cold and gentle.

Gertrude’s heart raced, glittering eyes widening. Everything in her head was screaming random actions, to run, to embrace her, to flee, to laugh, to smile, to scream, and the one that won was standing frozen.

Could Gris hear the pounding of her heart? Could she smell Gertrude’s fear?

What would she think if she could?

Gertrude gulped.

Gris grinned and stepped away. “Still, I’ll keep what you said in mind. I have to be getting going. Dinner to prepare and all that. Anyways, nice chatting with ya! You’re a really good listener, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Um, nice talking with you too,” Gertrude said, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks.”

“You have a wonderful day,” Gris said. She whirled and ran off.

“You too,” Gertrude said, quietly and slowly. Gris probably couldn’t hear her. She waved shyly.

Gertrude’s own research hadn’t led to much success just about what Gris was, let alone how to better respect her. Maybe there was a field expert? Maybe Jane had left a journal behind?

Gris smiled. She had proven herself right, though Gertrude didn’t seem like she had realized it.

Gris ran into the thick of the woods, stopping at her cave to grab a container filled with vegetables and bread crusts. She had been feeding the wild animals scraps for years.

Strange how little it took to buy loyalty. Regular interaction and basic kindness. Gris had fallen for the same trap before.

Gris sang a little three-note melody, and dinner came running up to her.

[enviedear]

❝ sunny afternoon — sirius black ❞

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 1.0k words ; fluff 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

you watch your long-haired boyfriend pour another glass of red wine. there's a small stain of the liquid on his creme button-up's sleeve, likely from his lack of object permanence. the sun is shining down on both of you with sharpness and the rays cast an amber glow to his black hair.

you think to yourself, laying your head back on the lawn chair, that maybe the both of you should find something better to do on such a nice day rather than drink outside. just maybe.

yesterday was the first sunny day of the month and sirius had insisted on taking it along with today off of work to be with you, he'd even brought you home some flowers. he wants nothing more than to be at home with you.

you agree with the sentiment, but the dark walls and exterior of his family mansion are putting a damper on your mood. you're sure no amount of wine could push away the feeling. you're impossibly bored.

sirius must have felt your mood dampening, as he saunters over to you, glass almost finished by now.

"what's the matter. darling?" his voice is delicate and warm.

you look up at him, eyes narrowing from the bright sun behind him, "i'm bored."

he smirks leaning down to you, hands locking you into place in your chair, "and why's that? has my presence gone too tame for you?"

you roll your eyes playfully, "never that, love. believe me when i say you'll never be tame." you catch a smile from him at your words, "i'm just bored. happy but bored."

he hums, sun-beaten cheeks slightly rosier than before, "i could take you somewhere— where would you like to go? somewhere new or somewhere we've been?"

"no. it's not that, i don't want to be anywhere else but here. really, the thought of leaving this yard seems barbaric and cruel." you say.

sirius holds his hand out to you and you take it. he pulls you out of your chair and into him, a soft embrace. you smile into him, unsure of what exactly he's up to.

he sways you a little, pulling back to look you into your eyes, "what if i don't take you too far? perhaps we should take advantage of this sunny day, hm?"

you think on his words before asking, "what do you have in mind?"

the young man seems to beam with excitement and without a word, you still hand in hand with him, begins to run off of the patio and into the deepness of your secluded backyard.

the wind whips by you as you race closer and closer to whatever sirius' destination may be. the trees grow less and less sparse until he stop suddenly, smack dab in the beginnings of the woods.

"where are you taking me?" you ponder, looking happily over the greenery around you.

sirius smiles, hand still interlocked in yours, "just a little farther— i remembered a place i used to go when i was little."

the two of you walk the rest of the way, drunk off the little adventure. sirius has an overjoyed grin on his face every time you steal a glance. although the sun still makes its way through the lush trees around you, it's not as violent anymore.

you feel a deep sense of peace as you walk, and you're unsure if it's from your darling boy or his darling spur-of-the-moment idea.

moments pass and finally sirius stops, pointing ahead, "there. it's an old cabin i think some muggles used to live in. mother always hated when i came here, because i'd alway bring something home."

you smile, "you still have a thing for knick-knacks."

he kisses your temple, "some things just never change, darling."

the cabin sits isolated here in the woods, catching the sun and a birds nest up on its roof. the log cabin seems to have ignored the tests of time despite the few vines and animals calling it home. it's beautiful and picturesque.

as you make your way to the front door you notice small carvings etched into the wood. there are a plethora of little doodles like flowers, trees with long-reaching branches, and stars. underneath each beautiful carving sits the initials you know so well, s.b.

"you did this?" you ask, finger tracing some of the carvings.

sirius leans against the slightly chipped baby blue door, "i did. the summer i found this place mother refused to buy my any more journals since all i did was draw in them. so i would come here with father's old hunting knife and etch into the wood for hours."

"they're all lovely. you should get one tattooed— for the memory." you say, walking over to him, his hand now on the doorknob.

sirius has a blissful look, "perhaps i will," he pushes the door open, showcasing a quaint but cozy interior. "what do you think? still as lovely as the outside?"

you're quick to scurry around the cottage, taking in the small sitting room and kitchen, "i'm in awe."

your boyfriend nods in approval, looking the place over as if it's an old friend. you suppose it is in a way, despite not being alive this cottage was a respite for your love for many years.

silently you snake your arms around his torso and clutch him tightly, "thank you for showing me this, sirius."

"you're welcome, darling," he unravels you from him so that he can face you now, lifting your chin up to stare at him, "not bored anymore are you?"

you shake your head, "no, not at all! you've made my day."

"good." he breathes, "i think it was good to come out here, if we'd of stayed in that house any longer drinking that wine i'm afraid we might've come down with the grape juice blues."

you giggle, "i'm so over whites."

sirius continues with a grumble, "and pinks." the both of you laugh, encased in the cottage's warm light.

you let out a content sigh, cuddling closer into his chest and letting your eyes drift over his wine-stained sleeve.

"would you like to stay here for a while? just me and you and the rest of our day?" sirius questions.

you smile and look into his grey eyes, "yes, i want you to show me everything. tell me all your memories here and then afterward, before we leave, i want you to carve me something grand."

"anything for you, darling." he grins, placing a kiss to your wine-stained lips.

tags — [💌] ;

@slytherinambitious @ughgclden @bukoffski @fictionalcomforts @katherinadeluca @scrletletter @thehalfbloodedwitch @sanaz1dlol @aslutformarauders @silverose365

[kinetic-elaboration]

March 21: Bellarke, Dropship Night

I wrote this in about an hour, trying my absolute best to get back into this whole... writing thing. Actually did feel pretty good!

Bellarke, S1, ~1300 words

For @ninappon who asked for Clarke secretly seeing Bellamy doing something nice for one of the delinquents. This was a request from last summer so...yeah. Here it is though!!! Happy spring I guess!

*

Clarke kneels at the entrance to her tent, hard stones and uneven packed earth beneath her knees. She's left the entrance flap slightly unzipped. Through the aperture, she can see a scrap of night not yet as deep as the endlessness of space, a few gleaming dots of stars, and the slow-swaying tops of the trees, brushing back and forth against the blackness in a high, forceful breeze. She can see the gauzy flames of a torch left burning, too. It flickers a violent orange like another sentinel on guard.

The silence is almost complete, but for the steady grind of footsteps on patrol, sinking into the dirt, and the slow, mournful hooting of an owl somewhere in the woods. The rhythm of the guards' steps is just exactly the sound of the night patrol on Alpha Station, except steadier, unceasing, and softened by the earth beneath their boot soles, not clanging out against the metal floors of the ship.

She keeps herself completely still, as if she were waiting for someone, or something, or a sign. All she's really waiting for is dawn.

They've been enough nights now on Earth that she knows without having to think when the patrol should be passing by her tent and when another round of nearer-silence should reign. Silence now, and the hooting of the owl, and the rustling of the branches in the wind. She still can't quite picture them, what the leaves must look like brushing against each other, what the tree limbs look like bending and waving. She still needs to see them to believe.

And silence still.

Fear is building up in her gut, rising in her throat, so subtly and so slowly she barely feels it until her hands clench around nothing and her breath starts to shake. Too many beats of silence.Too long since the last patrol.

Something is wrong.

She unzips the tent flap as slowly as she can, but the sound of metal teeth unclicking still sounds too loudly in her ears. She can hear just about everything with her breath held.

Outside, the camp is eerily still, all of the other tents closed up, the torch flames jumping, the dropship a deeper shadow rising up against the forest and blocking out the stars and faint sliver of moon. Clarke eases her way down the path, careful that her own boots make no noise against the dirt. At the end of the row of tents, just shy of the wall they've built around the clearing, she notices a shadow outline of a person, familiar and still--

She ducks between two tents and peers out slowly. This area is better lit than the path by her tent, their torches concentrated near the wall where the lookouts take turns eyeing the dense shadows of the trees. As her eyes adjust, she realizes she's found Sterling. He's still standing, but barely, his head bowed down and his chin against his chest.

Nothing wrong with him, she realizes, after another breath-held beat, but sleepiness.

She stands up straight again and makes a move toward him, then immediately ducks into hiding again--another set of footsteps is stomping over. Bellamy arriving from another circuit of the perimeter. He's holding his gun steady and pointed toward the ground, his shoulders squared, the expression on his face hard and unyielding. He swings his weapon back so that his hands are free and barks, "Asleep on your feet, soldier?" loudly enough to snap Sterling to attention, not so loudly that he'll stand a chance of waking the other kids still asleep in their tents.

He learned that tone from the Guard, Clarke thinks.

Sterling jumps and then almost falls down again, surprised at finding himself on his feet, but Bellamy catches him as he stumbles back. The sharp tenor of Bellamy’s voice softens, and so does the hard furrow between his brows. "Are you all right?"

Sterling rubs at his eyes. Clarke can't see his face from where she's hiding, but she imagines the bleariness about it, imagines he looks every bit his age or even less. He says something she can't hear, and Bellamy's hands tighten on his upper arms, holding him steady on his feet.

"How about you get some sleep?" he says. His voice rumbles so deep that she can hear it easily, as clearly as if he were standing behind her, holding her.

"Shift's not over, I don't think," Sterling answers, a little louder this time, trying to rally and stand tall.

Bellamy shakes his head. "Close enough. I'll finish for you."

When Sterling doesn't immediately make a move to leave, Bellamy takes his gun from him and nudges him back toward the tents. Clarke creeps back into the shadows as he stumbles by her. Not that he'll notice, tired as he is--and Bellamy doesn't take his eyes off the kid until Sterling is safe inside his tent again, the flap zipped close.

Even then, Bellamy keeps staring. In the orange light from the torches, Clarke can see every bit of worry and fatigue shading across his face.

Without thinking, she stands up and emerges from between the tents.

Bellamy has his gun trained on her in a second. She holds up her hands in surrender.

"Easy," she says, careful, but the corner of her mouth still twitches up. "It's just me."

"Clarke." Her name sounds of wonder and exasperation both. He drops his weapon again, and Clarke drops her hands. "What are you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep." She glances back at Sterling's tent. "Opposite problem of our patrol."

Bellamy huffs, but the annoyance in the sound is exaggerated, and he doesn't order her back or even question her as she walks up to his side.

"That was a nice thing you did," she says. "Telling him to go to bed."

"Wasn't nice," Bellamy answers. He tilts his gaze up to the top of the wall, looking for unusual shadows in the blur of branches and leaves. "It doesn't help any of us if he's falling asleep instead of doing his job."

"Still. I know a few Guardsmen who would have chewed him out, at least."

"We're not the Guard."

"Mmmm," Clarke hums. She tilts her head back too. She can't hear the wind anymore, over the crackle of the torch flames, but she can still make out the owl calling out from somewhere in the vast wilderness around them.

"I can take the rest of his shift if you want," she says, after a while. Glances over at Bellamy as she says it, just in time to see him glance back over at her.

"It's fine," he grunts. "I've got it."

"Patrol and lookout shifts don't overlap," she reminds him, as if he didn't know. "You'll be up an extra hour."

"I'll manage," Bellamy answers. The light glances off his cheekbones, tints his skin a soft shade of gold. Clarke hums again. She knows he's right: he will.

"I'll stay out with you," she says, instead of argument. "At least for a circuit or two." She looks up at him, sees the way he catches his lip between his teeth like he's trying not to smile.

The fatigue around his eyes is too familiar. She's not sure that she can ever ease that worry, any more than she can ease her own.

But it feels better all the same, almost like safety or sweet dreams, to walk side by side with him around the perimeter of the camp and then between the tents, assuring themselves together that for one more night at least, all of their people are safe within their watch.

[lunarbuck]

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

moodboard is just for vibes, not what reader looks like!

5. Moonlight

Pairing: Guard!Bucky x Princess!Reader

WC: 3.7k

Sneak Peek: “Wow,” Steven breathes when he finally rides up beside you. When you turn around to face him, he isn’t looking at the flowers, but rather at you. “You’re remarkable, princess.”

Warnings/Tags: none that I can think of, fluff

series masterlist ☁ / ao3

AN: Picking up where we left off! Thank you for the support on the story <3

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist!

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

There are so many people around you, and you feel like there isn’t enough air to breathe, so you find your way to the balcony on the other side of the room. You push the doors open and are immediately hit with the cool night air, a stark contrast to the warmth of the ballroom. You lean against the stone railing and look out over the property. The moon is high in the sky, and the stars dance, gleaming brightly. The sound of the doors opening behind you pulls your attention, and you find James has followed you out.

“I needed some air,” you explain as he approaches to stand next to you. You turn back around, watching the trees blow in the wind.

“Me too,” he replies quietly, not wanting to pull your attention from the land. You realize that even if he didn’t need to get out of that room, he would have followed anyway. It is his job. Technically, you should have found him before disappearing. It is protocol.

“Are you having fun?” You ask, turning to look at him. James tilts his head, contemplative, and you understand that it is a kind of silly question. He is there to work, not to party.

“I suppose,” he replies, looking over to you. “You seem to have been enjoying yourself, though, and none of the princes have crushed toes,” he teases. You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning your back against the cold stone of the railing.

“It took a lot of willpower,” you joke back, laughing a bit at yourself. “But I can’t help but think that our little practice lesson in the library taught me all I needed to know.” A slight blush creeps across James’s cheeks, and even in the dim light of the moon, you can see a flicker of something in his eyes.

“I’m glad to have been helpful.” James holds your gaze, not letting you drop it, and you feel your cheeks heating. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so beautiful,” he says so quietly that you almost miss it.

“James,” you say, trying to find a way to deflect the compliment. James turns, so he is leaning with his side against the rail, supported by his arm. He looks at you as if his eyes can see right through you, right into your head.

“You think I’m just saying that to be nice,” he states, voice only just above a murmur. “You think that I must be like this with everyone.” You don’t have the heart to nod, but he knows he’s right. He doesn’t need your confirmation. “You think you’re nothing special.” James takes a step toward you, his chest nearly pressing against your arm, and he reaches out a gloved hand to your face. His fingers hook underneath your chin and tilt your jaw to look at him. Neither of you speaks, the silence that hangs in the air is heavy, and you wish he would just say something, do something. You won’t make the first move out of fear that he will reject you.

Instead of speaking, James drops his hand from your face and takes your hand in his. He steps away from the railing and pulls you with him out to the middle of the balcony. Through the closed doors, you can still hear the music playing inside the ballroom. James places both your hands around his neck, and his hands find your waist. Wordlessly, he pulls you closer and leads you in swaying along to the soft melody coming from inside.

“James,” you whisper as his fingers press into your sides. He looks down at you, and you crane your neck a bit to look into his eyes.

“I have had people tell me I need to distance myself from you. That I have gotten too comfortable, too casual with you, but I can’t. I watched you dance with those princes, watched as their hands held you in the ways I wish I could. I barely held my temper.” You gasp quietly at the confession and your heart races as he continues dancing with you. “Tonight, I wanted nothing more than to dance with you, to hold you. To occupy your thoughts.”

“You always occupy my thoughts, James,” you say somewhat sheepishly. James raises his eyebrows at your words. He must not have noticed your feelings for him.

“Is that so, princess?” He asks, clearly amused. You blush; you have never been with a boy, let alone a man, so you are quite inexperienced in this department. In the books, confessing one’s feelings to someone else seems so easy. It certainly is not panning out that way.

“Yes,” you say, voice breathy and quiet. Your eyes flicker down to his mouth, his full bottom lip tugged between his teeth. When you return your gaze to his eyes, they are full of something you can’t quite name.

“Princess, I have never met anyone quite like you; I doubt I ever will. And I would like nothing more than to show you just how I feel about you, but I worry that this will complicate what you are going through right now. Though none of the princes have proposed to you, you are spoken for in a sense. I wouldn’t want to start something that we can’t finish.” You understand what he means. Even if the two of you fell in love and tried to wed, it would be illegitimate, and your father would never allow it. You were to marry one of the four princes, and that is final. You have no sway. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to pour your heart out for James. You want to feel his lips against yours, you want his hands to roam your body. You want to feel his soft brown hair between your fingers.

“I understand,” you whisper. “And I respect your decision, but that doesn’t mean I want you to kiss me any less.” You surprise yourself as the words slip from your lips. Your face somehow gets warmer than it already is, and you can’t bring yourself to look at James’s face. He stops swaying, and you feel dizzy all of a sudden. His hands slide up your arms, up your neck, and come to rest on either side of your face. Your hands press against his firm chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering against your palms. James tilts your face up, and you finally figure out what that look in his eye is. It’s wanting.

Your heart skips a beat, and it seems like the world stops turning as James leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His hands cup your face and deepen the kiss. The feeling of him pressed against you, surrounding you, is thrilling, and your breathing quickens. When James pulls away, you keep your eyes closed, not wanting the moment to end.

“Princess,” he whispers against your forehead, lips brushing gently over your skin. You tilt your head up and run your hands along his arms to rest on his wrists beside your face. “You are astonishing.” James connects his lips to yours again, and you kiss back with newfound confidence. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, intertwined with James on the balcony, but it feels like hours, and you relish every second. Footsteps that approach a little too close to the doors force you and James apart; you can’t risk getting caught together. James checks his watch and grimaces. You’ve been gone for too long.

“What does this mean?” You ask, not elaborating. James understands, though, and he brushes the hair from your face gently, studying your features.

“I’m not sure, princess,” he says gently, and you appreciate his honesty. “What I am sure of, though, is that you are captivating, and I hope to steal you away more often if you’re willing.” A devious grin reaches across his lips, and you suck in a breath at the sight.

“You can steal me away whenever you want, James,” you whisper, echoing the conversation you had had with him on the first day he came to work at the castle.

“Bucky,” he says, taking your hands in his. You cock your head to the side, silently asking him to explain. “Call me Bucky,” he clarifies.

“Bucky.” The way his name feels on your tongue, the way it tastes, is addictive. Forbidden and alluring. After another stolen kiss, James -- Bucky -- hooks your arm through his and brings you back into the ballroom. He walks you toward the middle of the room and tells you he must check in with the other guards. You curtsey, and he leaves, though hesitantly.

The rest of the ball goes by in a blur, and when Winnie asks you about it later as she helps you undress, you can’t seem to think of any specifics. You fall asleep that night to the memory of Bucky, the feeling of him underneath your fingers.

You wake a bit later than you intend in the morning, but you have no concrete plans since it is the day after the ball. You peel yourself from your bed and find that an outfit has been laid out for you. It’s one of your usual dresses, the lavender fabric soft against your fingers. You slip it on and adjust the cap sleeves before you make your way to the kitchen. You have surely missed breakfast so you will make your food. The floor is cold against your bare feet, but you don’t mind. You push open the kitchen door and find Steven inside, eating a toast with jam spread on top.

“Good morning, princess,” he greets before taking a bite of his food. You return the saying and dig through the cabinets, looking for something to make. “Do you have plans for today?” He asks, leaning against the counter next to you. You find a jar of oats and begin preparing oatmeal for yourself.

“No, why, did you have something in mind?” You ask, flashing him a kind smile. A blush spreads across his face, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight.

“I was hoping we could explore more of the grounds. Your father says you are quite the adventurer.” You nod and hum a bit at his proposition. You wouldn’t mind spending the day outside, though you know that Steven would rather ride horses than go hiking.

“That sounds lovely, Steven,” you say, stirring hot water into your bowl. You watch as your words give the man newfound confidence, and you can’t help but think of him as an adorable puppy.

“Wonderful,” he says, wiping his palms on his pants. “I’ll head to the stables and have your horse prepared. Would you like to meet me there when you’re ready?” You nod again, and Steven heads out to get ready for the day’s adventures. From your spot in the kitchen, you can see two of the other suitors walking around the grounds. Sam and Rumlow seem to be arguing about something, but you don’t really care to know more. You sit down at the table and eat in silence and read the book you’d left there a few days ago.

“Hello, princess,” James says from the doorway. Your heart immediately begins to beat faster, and you try to calm yourself to avoid embarrassment.

“Hello, James,” you reply, closing your book. He crosses the room and stands beside you, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. When you look back at him, he tilts his head and gives you a funny look.

“When it’s just us, you can call me Bucky,” he reminds you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Well then. Hello, Bucky,” you say, smiling brightly. Bucky grins, and his tongue runs across his bottom lip, eyes searching yours.

“I’ve never heard anything more beautiful,” he murmurs, still holding your face. His words go straight to your heart, and you hope that Bucky can’t hear it beating wildly in your chest. The pressure of his fingers against your skin makes your face warm, and shivers run up your spine.

“You’re too kind, Bucky,” you reply sheepishly.

“I wish I could take you away from all of this, spend some time with you without all the prying eyes.” Bucky’s hands slide from your face as he takes the seat across from you.

“Me too, being around them is so tiring. I’m going riding with Steven after I’m done eating. Those horses have a special place in his heart,” you chuckle, taking another bite of your food.

“Tonight,” he says, a beautiful boyish grin on his face. “Meet me in your library after the suitors leave.” You raise a questioning eyebrow at the man across from you.

“Pray tell, why might I do that?” You know you’ll go; you don’t need an explanation, but the way Bucky smirks at you is worth it. He wants you. You know it.

“I have something to show you.” You laugh and finish eating, worried about keeping Steven waiting. Bucky walks you down to the stables, and despite the careful distance between the two of you, his hand still brushes against yours. You try not to stare at your hand when you feel the leather of his glove against your skin, but you can’t help the blush that spreads across your face.

“Princess!” Steven calls out when he hears your footsteps approaching. When he sees Bucky, he nods a greeting to the man. “I’ve had your horse prepared. James, there’s one for you as well if you’d like to ride.” James nods and walks over to the horses, sliding a gloved hand over the back of one of the animals.

“Where would you like to venture to today, Steven?” You ask, letting him lead you to your horse. He helps you up into the saddle, and his hand lingers on yours as you settle in.

“Wherever you’d like, princess. And I would love to hear that story about your sister’s wedding and your dancing. You did promise me that.” Steven swings himself up onto his horse, and the three of you ride out of the stable.

“Did I promise you that?” You ask, leading your horse to ride beside his. Steven smiles at you, perfectly straight teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“Something along those lines,” he says, chuckling through his words. You lead him onto a trail through the forest that you and your sister used to ride through. Since you didn’t usually ride horses, the path is a bit overgrown, but Steven didn’t seem to mind.

“At my sister’s wedding, I was avoiding everyone so I wouldn’t have to dance. My sister was not having it. She found me hiding in the hall reading and pulled me back into the ballroom. She had me dance with her husband’s brother, and right as he touched me, I tripped and fell on top of him. He helped me get back up, and I stepped on his toes each time he spun me. By the end of the night, he had to ice his feet. He wouldn’t even look at me. My father was furious, I had made a fool out of everyone, but I blamed my sister. If she had just let me do what I was good at and hide in the hallway, none of it would’ve ever happened.” Steven laughs and shakes his head at the story, but all you really hear is the quiet chuckle of Bucky behind you, riding a few feet away.

“I never would have guessed, princess. You danced beautifully at the ball,” Steven replies, glancing at you.

“You flatter me, Steven,” you say as you urge your horse to ride faster. Steven gives chase, and together you ride through the forest. The wind blows your hair from the plait it has been twisted in, and a laugh bubbles from your lips. You reach a clearing of wildflowers and slow your horse, waiting for Steven and Bucky to catch up.

“Wow,” Steven breathes when he finally rides up beside you. When you turn around to face him, he isn’t looking at the flowers but rather at you. “You’re remarkable, princess.” You shake your head and slide off your horse, urging Steven to continue. The two of you pick flowers and talk for a while, telling stories of childhood antics and adventures. You learn that when Steven was young, he got picked on by other children, so now, as a grown man, he wanted to be a protector. The remainder of the afternoon is spent lounging around in the meadow, but the more time you spend with Steven, it becomes easier to see that he isn’t ready for marriage. He is itching to do his part, to serve his country and his kingdom. He doesn’t know what kind of commitment marriage and a family is, what that would mean for his career.

You can hear Winnie silently scolding you in your head as you mentally cross Steven off your list of future husbands. She thinks you’re too picky, and the four men would all make good husbands. But you know that you can't marry Steven; he isn't ready for the ball and chain of marriage. You can't marry Sam; he's told you that his heart belongs to another woman. It would kill him to hurt her. Of course, you wouldn’t force him to marry you, so you made him promise to be your friend after it all is over. That left you with Rumlow and Loki, the two strapping princes were a bit rough around the edges in their own ways, but of the two of them, Loki is undoubtedly more favorable. Part of you hates having that internal dialogue about marrying any of the men; you didn’t want that for your life. The other part has already accepted it, has already made peace with the fact that your life is no longer yours to control.

The bell tower rings 11 times, indicating that it is nearly midnight. You slip from your room and quietly make your way to the library. You stand in front of the wooden doors, wishing you had changed before coming down; Bucky is sure to laugh at your silly clothes. Your pale blue nightgown brushes just below your knees, and the soft fabric of your oversized black sweater maintains your modesty. After a deep breath, you push the library’s doors open and find Bucky sitting on the couch reading. When he hears you enter, his eyes snap up to you, taking in your presence.

“Princess,” he says, standing to greet you. You take a step across the threshold, the soft carpet beneath your bare feet. Behind you, you push the door shut and keep holding his gaze. Bucky’s eyes are bright as they watch you. He takes a few steps to close the distance between your bodies, and his hands find their way to cup your cheeks.

“Good evening, Mr. Barnes,” you whisper, lips just an inch from his. His eyes flicker when you call him that name, and you can’t help but grin. He tilts your head and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You wrap your hands around his waist and pull him closer, needing more contact.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he murmurs against your cheek, warming your skin with his breath. You take in the way he feels, his smell, everything about him. He does the same, savoring the stolen moment with you.

“You weren’t too subtle about it either. Steven asked me why you stare so much.” Bucky scoffs at your words, but he laughs, taking your hand and walking you to the couch.

“And what did you say to dear old Steven,” he jokes as you sit. You want to tuck yourself into his chest, but instead, you sit at his side, pressing your leg to his.

“I told him you get lost in your thoughts. You’re a brooder with a staring problem.” Bucky feigns offense and rubs circles into your palm.

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” he says quietly, eyes searching your face for what you’re not sure.

“Have you met Winnifred?” You ask, needing to know if she had spoken to him about her findings.

“Yes, she’s a lovely woman. Why?” Bucky furrows his brow, obviously jumping to a worst-case scenario of why you would bring her up.

“She told me to keep you as a friend yesterday while she was helping me get ready. There are rumors that I’ve taken a liking to you.” You spare a look at Bucky, his blue eyes stormy as he thinks of the consequences of getting caught together. “We need to be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The worry lines between his eyebrows soften, and he kisses your forehead sweetly.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen,” he says against your skin. “And I’ll try to back off a bit around people. It’s just hard seeing you with them.” You nod and kiss his cheek, trying to lighten the mood.

“You said earlier that you wanted to show me something. What was it?” You squeeze his hand and bring his attention back to the present. He smiles and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out an object wrapped in plain brown paper. Bucky hands it to you, and you gently open the paper, revealing a pocket-sized book of poems. Your heart clenches, and you turn back to look at Bucky. The clouds in his eyes have gone, making way for light and happiness.

“I was in town a few days ago and saw it. It reminded me of you.” He had bought the book before your kiss. Before you had shown him how you felt.

“It’s perfect, Bucky,” you whisper as you lean into his side. His arm slips around your shoulder, and he kisses the crown of your head. The two of you stay like that, pressed to each other’s sides as the moon rises high in the sky and enjoy the silence.

Tagged: @sharksandtea @itsthemaree

divider by: @skylightlantern

[respectable-username]

(This can be read as a stand-alone or as the final part of what has become a little trilogy with part 1 and part 2)

"I'm sorry I killed you."

The cobblestone wall stared blankly back at Etho, the hole in the grass in front of it sitting empty before him.

"I should have just given you the life."

The azalea tree swayed gently in the breeze above him. It had taken a good twenty or so attempts with bonemeal on moss to get the blossoming sapling, but it was worth it. Bdubs was worth it.

"I know you were Red and I was Green, and that we're not supposed to do nice thing for Red names. I just didn't think you were gonna die for good. I should have known."

The world border gently hummed beside him, keeping the area shielded. Keeping it safe, at least from one side. Keeping it protected from the Red names. Protecting Bdubs like he failed to do himself.

"I don't have anything left of you. You were too far away. It was all taken or despawned. I'm sorry."

A breeze blew through the little valley, sending leaves tumbling through the air. Etho raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the debris.

"You're not even here to make fun of my accent when I say that. Sorry. "

His voice hitched as he spoke. Etho bit down on his lip hard, taking deep, controlled breaths as he did so. One, two, three, four, five. With one final deep breath, he crouched down on the soft grass in front of the hole and removed his boots.

"These were your idea. It was a good idea."

He rubbed at the boots in his hands, the enchantment on them making them extra smooth and slippery. They'd served him well. They must have saved his life at least once, if not more times, being able to speed away from danger around the White Castle walls. They'd protected him. Bdubs had protected him.

"I'm not a sentimental person. You know that!"

Etho edged forward and slipped the boots into the hole. With one final look, he shovelled the dirt back on top of them, leaving a fresh mound in front of the cobblestone.

"I hope that counts. I think that counts? It's the best I can do."

Etho leaned forwards, tilting his forehead until it rested against the cold, hard stone.

"I'm sorry. I miss you. You're my best friend and I let you die."

The wind blew through again. If he tried, he could pretend it was Bdubs answering him. But he knew it wasn't. Ghosts don't exist.

"I just want you to know that I care about you a lot. Thanks for not killing me. Sorry I couldn't return the favour."

Etho let himself rest there as long as he could, savouring the few minutes of peace he could spare in this world. There were still Reds roaming the land, any of whom would gladly take the easy kill. Etho couldn't allow that. And he couldn't allow yet another special tree be destroyed. Not this tree. Not Bdubs' tree.

"I miss you so much."

He reluctantly rocked back on his heels, hearing what sounded like wolf howls getting slightly too close for comfort. He placed a sign upon the grave stone, taking a moment to contemplate something suitable to write. He tried several options in his head before finally committing one permanently onto the wood.

"I'll see you back home. Hang in there for me, Bdubs. I've just gotta finish this and we can all go home."

A single flower blossom drifted down from the leaves above, dislodged by the wind. Etho reached out and plucked it off the ground. It was so delicate, so beautiful, so full of life. Just like the things Bdubs made. Etho smiled, twirling it between his fingers. He stood up, stuck the flower in his pocket, and with one last wave goodbye, Etho walked away.