#very funny of me to start this fic off with a Samurai song

[aceghosts]

All I Know is a Place Where I Haunted

Summary: After saving President Rosalind Myers and delivering her to Reed, Rooney tries to deal with everything they've seen. But it's all too much to bear. Title comes from Spiritbox's Jaded. Rating: Mature Warnings: References to unnamed character deaths. Survivor's Guilt. Also, references to injuries (mainly cuts and bruises). Lastly, I wanna give a warning that Rooney is not in a good mental space, like 'I clearly don't care whether I live or die' kind of mental space, and thus, may be triggering for readers. Please use discretion. As always, if I need to tag for anything else, please let me know. Words: 4,438 words. Author's Note: This is an AU for what I consider Rooney's canon as I normally don't consider it canon for them to have the Relic in their head. But I had this idea for them and it wouldn't stop bothering me. So, now this fic exists. Also, if you have not played Phantom Liberty, this does contain spoilers for the beginning! Taglist (opt in/out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @voidika, @strangefable, @captmactavish, @carlosoliveiraa, @theelderhazelnut, @nightbloodbix, @fourlittleseedlings, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @clicheantagonist

AO3

Black Dog in my head, guiding me until the end…

Samurai blares over their radio as Rooney leaves Dogtown in the dust. Their hands grip the handle-bars tightly, knuckles white. Every inch of them hurts. Each movement-no matter how gentle or careful, sends a jolt of pain radiating through their body. Their head aches, a painful stab behind their right eye. Above all, Rooney is tired, so very, very tired. They feel sluggish, their limbs feeling like heavy weights are attached.

Even worse, they haven’t slept in over 24 hours. Last night as they hid in the Kress building with Myers, Rooney couldn’t sleep, no matter how much they wanted to. Every sound, every movement, every sight, no matter how real or imagined, sent adrenaline coursing through their veins. Their heartbeat would race, their body acting on finely tuned instincts to assess and fight. Every time, they would close their eyes, memories would haunt them. The crashing of Space Force One. Dead presidential staffers and Secret Service everywhere. The Chimera, the telltale glow of the red static from an AI beyond the Blackwall, staring Rooney and Myers down. It screams, a cursed, awful sound. Rooney’s throat tightens, a choked sob escaping from them.

The black motorcycle wobbles beneath them, Rooney swearing. They slow down, pulling over to the side of the road. Climbing off the bike, Rooney nearly falls to the ground, catching themself by their hands. Bits of gravel scrape at their palms. They ignore the pain, scrambling onto the sidewalk. Reaching the guard rail of the bridge, Rooney slides down until they’re in a sitting position, back against the rail. Behind them, the setting sun is a burning orange, stark against the faded sky. Sighing deeply, Rooney places their head in their hands. How much longer can they keep doing this? Keep moving along as the end goal is dragged further away? When will they be allowed to rest? Not be haunted by every terrible and awful thing they’ve seen?

Rooney closes their eyes, the Chimera there in their memories. The cable breaks, sliding out of their grasp as they hurtle towards the ground. Slamming on the ground on their back, Rooney gasps as the Chimera refocuses, raising a large paw to squish them like a bug. Rooney rolls out of the way, the Chimera narrowly missing them.  Above them both, the chandelier falls, sparking as it hits the ground. The Chimera and Rooney fall, knocking against each other as they descend into the blackness. They feel weightless, almost like they’re falling with the Chimera again. Rooney’s heart starts to pound loudly in their ears, mouth dry. Their limbs feel numb, adrenaline kicking their senses into overdrive. They’re falling, they’re falling they’refalling!

“ROONEY!” Gasping, their eyes open wide as they jump slightly. Johnny kneels in front of them, sunglasses in hand as he watches them, concerned.  Taking a panicked breath, Rooney’s eyes scan for any threats, for the Chimera. A few seconds later, they realize they’re in Night City with Johnny, and the adrenaline fades, leaving them with a bone-aching weariness. Tears burn in the corner of their eyes as Johnny speaks, “Shepard, you alright? Scared me there for a minute.”

“Yeah,” They force the words out, their throat tight, “Just remembering.”

Johnny softens, knowing a thing or two about reliving awful memories. “We should get you to that Ripperdoc friend of yours.”

Vik. They should; So Mi’s hacking of the Relic could have messed with their implants, especially the experimental Arasaka ones. Rooney’s holo rings, a familiar icon in the upper left corner.  “Don’t fucking answer that,” Johnny commands.

Rooney answers it anyway. They’re not going to ignore his call, and Rooney needs to get it together. No more of this pity party. Reed, So Mi, Dogtown, Night City, Myers, NUSA, and everyone else are counting on them. Roone will rest when they are dead. Wiping the corner of their eyes, Rooney composes themself as they answer, “What’s the situation?”

“Rooney!” Yorinobu’s eyes widen as he takes in their face with a concerned look on his face. “I could not reach you, and I worried you might be injured. Where are you? I will send someone to-.”

“I’m fine.” Rooney needs to be better than fine; they have to be. But fine is an acceptable state of being for now. “What do you need me to do?” They push themself to their feet, stifling a painful groan as their body protests. Johnny shakes his head, exasperated by their stubbornness. A frequent occurrence.

Yorinobu is silent, his gaze scrutinizing them. “Meet me at Konpeki Plaza as soon as possible.”

“Don’t. Get your ass to Vik’s,” Johnny says, flipping a finger toward Yorinobu.

“Understood. I’ll head there now.” Swinging their leg over the motorcycle, it roars to life beneath them.

Johnny shakes his head. “Fucking pathetic. ‘Saka Jr. says fucking jump, and you say how fucking high.” He glitches out of existence, saving Rooney the dignity of having to answer him.

“Rooney,” Yorinobu pauses, still watching them, “Be careful.”

“I will.” It’s a lie; Rooney has never been careful with their own life.

—

The elevator dings, opening up to the Tavernier Suite. The penthouse is gorgeous, offering one of the best views in Night City. Stepping into the suite, Rooney squares their shoulders, pretending they’re anything but exhausted. As they found the corner into the main area, Smasher and Yorinobu stop talking, looking away from the holopad between them. Smasher laughs, grating on Rooney’s nerves as he catches sight of them. Yorinobu’s brow furrows, looking more concerned than he did on the phone. “Fuck, Shepard. You look worse than fucking roadkill,” Smasher teases.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Rooney replies sarcastically, glaring at Smasher.

Smasher rolls his eyes while Yorinobu simply states, “You are limping.��

“I’m not.” Embarrassment floods Rooney as they realize Yorinobu is right. Trying to even out their gait, Rooney places weight on their left leg, pain shooting up from their hip as they stiffen. They bite down on their lip, trying not to whimper in pain. Rooney continues slowly towards Smasher and Yorinobu, purposely not limping. Well, at least, trying not to.

Yorinobu and Smasher exchange glances before Smasher sighs in annoyance. “I’ll get the fucking Doctor,” he grumbles, his loud stomping sending waves of anxiety through them, too reminiscent of the Chimera. As he passes Rooney, the two lock eyes, and Smasher scoffs, clearly thinking them pathetic. And the worst part? He’s right.

Making their way over, Rooney leans against the expensive dining table. “So, what’s happening? What can I-?”

“Where were you? I could not reach your holo.”

They suspected So Mi probably jammed their holo, making it difficult for Hansen and the Barghest to find them. It also probably made it harder for anyone else trying to contact them. “Had a missing person’s case in Dogtown. Needed to go dark for a while.” Not an unbelievable excuse. Rooney occasionally had to go dark on cases, not wanting to alert anyone who might be involved.

“Did Kurt Hansen do this to you?” Yorinobu cuts straight to it, fear and anger in his eyes. He looks like he’s about ready to punch Hansen.

“No.” Even though Hansen sent the Barghest after Rooney and Myers, he hadn’t set the Chimera on them. Wasn’t So Mi’s fault either. Whatever had been in the Chimera was something else, something from beyond the Blackwall. A shudder runs up their spine at the thought of it. “The thing that did this to me is dead.”

His shoulders drop, relaxing slightly as he motions for them to sit in the already pulled-out chair. Rooney sits, trying not to wince as pain radiates through them. “I do not doubt that anyone who intends to harm you would not leave with their life, Rooney. But-,” He emphasizes the word, “I do not think you are telling me the full story.”

Johnny finally makes his presence known again, glitching into a pulled-out chair on the other side of the table. Kicking his legs up onto the table and drumming his fingers, Johnny warns, “You can’t fucking tell, ‘Saka Jr., Shepard. What the fuck do you think ‘Saka is gonna do when they find out about Songbird?”

He has a point. Rooney trusts Yorinobu, baring the vulnerable parts of themself to him that no one else would be allowed to see.  But they can’t trust the rest of Arasaka. And even if Rooney wanted to tell him, which they did, anything they say about Myers and So Mi could put Yorinobu in danger. And they won’t put Yorinobu in harm’s way. “Not much to tell. Just your standard missing person’s case that got a little rough. But I ended up finding the person alive and well. A happy ending.” Might have been a happy ending in Myers’ case. But for everyone else, it was a failure. So Mi was missing and most of the civilian passengers on Space Force One ended up dead. They should have been able to do more.

Yorinobu reaches out, his right hand cupping their face. His thumb lightly traces their cheek as Rooney leans into his hand, nuzzling his palm. In the reflection of his glasses, Rooney notices how awful they look. Their bottom lip is busted, a deep cut running through it. Another long cut runs through their eyebrow, red and inflamed. Dark circles sit underneath their eyes, making Rooney look like they’ve been punched in both eyes. And they look pale, paler than normal, which is a feat in itself. No wonder Yorinobu seemed troubled. “What is the name of your missing person?”

Out of the corner of their eye, Johnny shakes his head, and Rooney wonders if Yorinobu already knows. There is no way Arasaka Intelligence wouldn’t have heard about Space Force One, of all things, crashing into Dogtown under mysterious circumstances. And Yorinobu knows Rooney is drawn to trouble, always willing to put themself in harm’s way.  But they’re still not willing to put him in the middle of this. “Just a local-.”

The elevator opens, cutting Rooney off as Smasher enters first. They wince at his loud footsteps, aggravating their headache. Dr. Katō, one of the few Arasaka employees that Rooney is somewhat friendly with, follows behind Smasher. “Shepard!” Dr. Katō calls, a knowing look on his face. “Found trouble again, I-,” He stops, catching sight of Yorinobu’s dark expression, “Arasaka-sama, I-.”

“Examine them now.” Yorinobu releases their face, stepping back to allow Dr. Katō to do his work.

“Yes.” Dr. Katō bows, now slightly nervous as he approaches Rooney. He starts his examination, his cyberware scanning for any broken bones or internal wounds. Rooney assumes there isn’t anything too serious. Otherwise, they might already be dead. As he finishes scanning, Dr. Katō suggests, “I would suggest that you have one of my colleagues run diagnostics on your implants for issues. I also wish you would allow me to run medical diagnostics on you.”

“No!” Rooney and Johnny both say at the same time, the same panicked look on both faces. The last thing Rooney needs to happen today is for Arasaka to find out they have the Relic in their head. And they really don’t want to have that conversation with Yorinobu. Rooney swallows as Yorinobu looks at them suspiciously. “You know how I feel about Arasaka doctors. No offense, Dr. Katō. I’ll have my local ripper check them later.”

Yorinobu sighs, shaking his head. “Would you like to give us the number of-?”

“No.” No way in hell they’re giving Vik’s number to Yorinobu. Rooney is pretty sure Vik would have an aneurysm if a bunch of Arasaka Corpos showed up on the front doorstep of his clinic.  Plus, Rooney doesn’t want to burden him with any more than they already have. He’s done so much for them. “My implants are okay. I have not noticed anything off about them.”

“I still highly recommend you have one of my colleagues examine you, but I’ll respect your decision,” Dr. Katō states as he begins to work on the cut on their eyebrow, “Any specific places bothering you, Shepard?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Yorinobu and Smasher both answer. Yorinobu clarifies, “Rooney is favoring their left side; they were limping when they arrived.”

Dr. Katō nods. “I’ll take a look after I finish with their face.” He tends to the other cut on their lip, silence permeating the room. Rooney glances toward Johnny, nervous energy radiating off him like a trapped wild animal. He’s never liked it here, and he especially doesn’t like it when Yorinobu or Smasher is around. Johnny’s learned to deal with Yorinobu, but Smasher still brings up a swirl of complicated feelings. Fear. Anger. Pain. All of it flows through them, leaving a nervous pit in Rooney’s stomach. “Do you mind taking off your shirt, Shepard? I’d like to take a look,” glancing nervously between Smasher and Yorinobu, Dr Katō gently suggests, “Perhaps you two should leave-.”

“I’m going,” Smasher grumbles, while Yorinobu stays. As soon as Smasher is gone, Dr. Katō looks toward Rooney.

“Yorinobu can stay.” They’re okay with Yorinobu here; Rooney doubts he would leave anyway.

Dr. Katō nods, gently helping Rooney out of their black and blue trenchcoat. He helps them pull off the turtleneck next as Rooney tries not to wince in pain. Yorinobu gasps, and Rooney looks down. A large, nasty, purplish-blue bruise covers the left side of their torso disappearing below the waist of their pants and farther down. Several other bruises cover them, leaving Rooney’s freckled skin a splatter painting of bruises. “How did this happen?” Dr. Katō asks as Yorinobu crosses his arms, looking even more troubled.  

“I fell.”

“Fell? How far did you fall, Shepard?”

They shrug, ignoring the pain that jolts through them. “Not sure. Might have been a few flights.”

Dr. Katō pales as Yorinobu shakes his head. “You’re very lucky to have escaped with no major injuries.” Rooney knows how lucky they are. Most would have died in their position. Most would have died going through some of the shit they went through. Rooney even already died once. But death was a luxury they would not be afforded. They had already been snatched from Death’s jaws once by Arasaka. What would stop it from happening again? “I am recommending bed rest, Shepard. At least, for a few days. I’ll also have some pain medication delivered to you.”

“No.” Dr. Katō looks shocked at their cold tone while Yorinobu narrows his eyes. “I’ll take the pain pills, but I need to be back on my feet.”

“Shepard,” Dr. Katō starts very gently, placing a hand on their shoulder, “You need to rest. Your body needs to rest. Otherwise, you risk injuring yourself further.”

Johnny shakes his head in the corner of their eye. “Can’t believe I’m ‘bout to agree with a fucking ‘Saka employee, but he’s right, Shepard. You look like you’re almost fucking dead.”

Even Yorinobu gets in on it. “Rooney, Dr. Katō is correct. You must rest. You are welcome to stay here, or I can drive you back to your apart-.”

“STOP!” Frustration overwhelms them. Why won’t anyone listen? So Mi and Reed are counting on Rooney; so many people are counting on Rooney. Rest is a luxury afforded to others, but never to Rooney. They need to keep moving; They have to keep moving. Shrugging off Dr. Katō’s hand, Rooney stands, biting back a groan as they get up, unsteady on their feet. “I don’t need to rest; I’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Fine?!” Yorinobu exclaims in disbelief, Rooney clenching their fist. “You can barely stand! If you were ‘fine’, you would not limp. You need to rest, please.”

“The limp will go away in a little bit. It’s not that big-.”

“Do not finish your sentence.” He softens a little, allowing Rooney to glimpse how exhausted and fearful he was for them. “Take this seriously. Please.”

“I am,” Rooney insists, knowing they are taking this deeply seriously. Why can’t everyone else see that?

“Are you?” Rooney’s armor starts to crack a little as they stare into Yorinobu’s eyes. Weariness comes over them, and Rooney pushes it away, trying to stay focused. “If you are, listen to Dr. Katō.”

“I am, I promise,” Rooney feels their throat tighten like they’re about to cry, “But I can’t rest. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t tell him a fucking thing, Shepard,” Johnny cuts in again. “Just get the fuck out of here and get to Vik.”

“I-,” Rooney struggles for a second, trying not to make sure they don’t reveal too much, “People depend on me, Yorinobu. I cannot let them down. If I stop, I fail them. And if I fail them, then what use am I to anyone?” Rooney has already failed people before, the ghosts of the past holding onto them, dragging Rooney down. They won’t fail anyone, not again. “I’ll rest when this is all over.”

Yorinobu takes their face in his hands, wiping away the tears from their eyes, the ones they didn’t know were already starting to fall. “Rooney, you will not fail anyone, especially if you rest for a few days. And your value is not determined on how useful you are to others.”

Fuck, they’re gonna cry. Swallowing down the lump in their throat, Rooney takes a deep breath. “You can’t know that.”

“I do.” He sounds so sure, his arrogance bleeding over.

“And how would you know that?” Anger tinges their voice as they answer sharply.

“I would not think that of you. And anyone who does, simply would have never think you succeeded in the first place.” Rooney’s walls break. The tears start slipping out faster, as they shake, taking in a weepy breath. Yorinobu lets go of their face, pulling Rooney into his arms as they let out a small whimper. They bury their face in the expensive silk fabric of his shirt, unable to compose themself any longer. Rooney sobs into his chest, fingers gripping the back of his shirt tightly.  Yorinobu rubs comforting circles on their back, holding Rooney up as they cry. God, they’re tired. Just so exhausted.

After a while, their sobbing starts to soften, their grip less tight on Yorinobu. “Come. You should rest.” Rooney nods, allowing Yorinobu to shepherd them to the bedroom. As they walk towards his bed, they realize Johnny and Dr. Katō are gone. Johnny probably left because it was getting too emotionally intense for him. But at the thought of Dr. Katō, shame washes over them. Rooney should have been more com-. “He does not think less of you,” Yorinobu comforts, already knowing where their thoughts are headed, “Dr. Katō is worried about you as we all are.”

“Thank you.”

“No need,” Yorinobu shakes his head, bringing them to the bedroom, “Do you need help changing into something more comfortable?” Rooney nods, too tired to even pick out clothes for themself. He pulls out a pair of pajama pants and one of his t-shirts for them. He is so gentle with them, nearly sending them into tears again. Rooney feels so loved yet unworthy. Yorinobu shouldn’t have to do this for them. Rooney should be capable of something as simple as this.

Drawing the covers back, Yorinobu ushers Rooney into bed. They climb into bed, heading over to the other side. A part of Rooney wants to ask him to stay, to hold them as they fall asleep. But that would be selfish, and he’s already done so much for them. Instead, they turn away, trying not to want more than they are given. Like they always have. The bed dips on the other side, Yorinobu sitting on it. They hear him take off his shoes before getting underneath the covers with them. He pulls Rooney close to him, his chest against their back as he wraps an arm around their waist. He feels so warm and comforting pressed against Rooney as they allow themself to relax. Placing a kiss on the bare skin of their shoulder where his t-shirt has slipped away, he softly speaks, “Sleep, Rooney. Please rest.”

“I love you.” The words slip out of their mouth. Rooney does, they really fucking do. If Yorinobu asked the world of them, Rooney would gladly give it to him. Again and again.

He places another kiss on their shoulder, replying, “I love you too.” Those words ring in Rooney’s head as they fall asleep, Yorinobu nuzzling into their neck.

—

When Rooney awakes, they are alone in bed, muscles and joints aching. Even blinking feels like a herculean effort as they push the sleep out of their eyes. The dying rays of sunlight stream into the bedroom, infusing it with a golden glow. It makes the room look heavenly; it already feels heavenly. Grunting, Rooney pushes themself up, ignoring the protest from their muscles. By the time they’re sitting up, Rooney is out of breath, panting from the exertion. “Did you sleep well?” They look over, finding Yorinobu leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Rooney hadn’t heard him come in.

“Yeah,” their voice sounds rough from sleep, “How long was I out?”

“Over 24 hours,” Yorinobu answers, pushing himself off the wall and taking his hands out of his pockets. He walks over to the bed, sitting down beside Rooney. Yorinobu brushes a stray strand of dark red hair from their face, his fingers featherlight on their skin. “You needed it. You still need more.”

Rooney blanches, pulling up their holo. No missed calls or texts from Reed, but that doesn’t mean Rooney can stay in bed any longer. Reed could call at any moment. "I have to-.” As they try to get out of bed, Yorinobu places a hand on their shoulder, pulling them back gently. Rooney doesn’t fight back, too exhausted. Every movement feels like they’re making a trek up Mount Everest. “I have a case to work on.”

“Would that have anything to do with Space Force One?” Their eyes widen, swallowing nervously. Yorinobu looks triumphant. “I knew it.”

“How?”

“It is all over the news, and you were very…,” He pauses for a moment, perhaps trying to find better wording than ‘fucking stubborn’, “persistent about this case.” Fair enough. This one had more stakes, more chances for other people to get caught in the middle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rooney shakes their head. “I can’t discuss this one with you. Trust me, the more you know puts you in danger.”

“And it is acceptable for you to put yourself in danger?”

“I’ve fought the NUSA and worked with them after the Unification War. I know what they’re capable of.” They let out a sigh. “Thanks for the sleep, but-.”

“No,” Yorinobu shakes his head, his hand gripping their shoulder firmly, “If you plan to put yourself in danger on our behalf, promise me you will rest for one more night.”

“Yorinobu, I-,” Rooney falters, the genuinely concerned look on his face getting to them, “One more night, but tomorrow, I’m up and back at it.”

“I would never expect anything less,” Releasing their shoulder, he takes their hand in his, “Do you really think you have let anyone down?”

Rooney looks down at their hand tightly intertwined in his. “I do. I let everyone down who didn’t make it off Space Force One. I refuse to let anyone else get hurt. Not as long as I breathe.”

“You worry me when you say that, Rooney.” They know they do. Even if Yorinobu doesn’t say it, Rooney knows that there is always the possibility that the next case might be their last, and they think it scares Yorinobu that he might be powerless to stop it. Rooney looks up at him as Yorinobu reaches out, gently tracing the edge of their face. “You did not fail anyone, Rooney. The person who shot down Space Force One is responsible, not you.”

“I know, but if I was faster, I might have-.”

“Rooney, you cannot blame yourself. You cannot save everyone.”  They know. Rooney knows they can’t save everyone, but they have to try. They can’t just give up. Sighing, Yorinobu decides to let the matter go. “Would you like a cup of tea? I even have your favorite.”

“That sounds nice,” They say, thinking a cup of tea sounds wonderful, “Maybe a shower afterwards too. I feel a little gross.”   

“Good, I can even help you with the shower too,” He teases as Rooney rolls their eyes, before placing a soft kiss on their lips, “I will make your cup now.”

As Yorinobu leaves the bedroom, a familiar figure glitches onto the edge of the bed to their right. “Ask ‘Saka Jr for some vodka instead. I need to block out the mental image of you two eying each other like a bunch of horny teenagers.”

Oh Johnny, truly a wordsmith. They shake their head, a faint smile on their lips. ‘Glad to see you too, Silverhand’, Rooney thinks. A moment later and perhaps a touch more fondly, they add, ‘I mean it. I really thought I might have lost you, and it terrified me’.

Johnny sighs, but he looks away, clearly touched by their words. “Stop being so sentimental,” He grumbles, with no real bark or bite. He adds a moment later. “Missed you too, Shepard.”

‘We’re going to get So Mi back. I promise.’

“You think she’s telling the truth?”

‘No,’ Rooney thinks, and Johnny looks a little surprised, ‘I know when people are hiding things from me, Johnny, and she is hiding something. But I really think she needs our help. Besides, I have a feeling Myers is up to something worse, and we’ll stop her.’

He gives them a real grin. “Now, you’re speaking my language, Shepard. Just wish you had some of that when it came to ‘Saka Jr.”

They roll their eyes as Johnny lets out a laugh. For now, they were here safe with Yorinobu and Johnny, but tomorrow, the real challenge would begin. 

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 fanfic #yorinobu arasaka x original character #commander rooney shepard #I won't let fear compromise who I am #OTP: It always comes right back to you #v: cyberpunk 2077 #kate writes #the rooney fic tag #very funny of me to start this fic off with a Samurai song #and then not title it after it #lol #anyway I hope this one turned out okay #it's a real heavy angst/hurt fic with some good comfort at the end #and like Rooney needs help #but they also really need to be hugged

[meliorist-midoriya]

chasing the sun

synopsis: there’s something screaming in familiarity—in mourning—deep in his soul at the sight of you, a complete stranger. this is the price you pay for resurrection, the sun whispers as it rises.

pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, reincarnation au

warnings: mentions and depictions of death, major character deaths, mentions of war (+ description of a battlefield scene), injuries, blood.

word count: 11.7k

a/n: happy (extremely belated) birthday, bird boy. and aaaa my baby’s here, she’s finally here! i’ve been working on this fic for a little over two months now, and i’m so happy to see it fully fleshed out! thank you to @dimplesum​ for beta reading, and the tumblr chaos server for listening to me yell all the time abt this fic :’) disclaimer, i did as much research as i could, but any historical depictions are not 100% historically accurate and i have taken some creative liberty, so please take the historical scenes with a grain of salt! 

important: there will be songs linked throughout the fic to be played in accordance with the scene, i do hope you listen to them for the full experience! it is okay if the ost ends before the scene as that is also on purpose. the beginning of the song will start with 【 ☀︎ 】 with a link to the song. with that said, i hope you enjoy, and happy reading!

crossposted on Ao3

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Keigo, the youngest government official in the empire, stumbling upon a lone concubine in the eastern lotus garden. 

He’d been searching for solitude, away from the viper’s nest of samurai-turned-aristocrats, strutting around the castle with their now-useless weapons strapped to their hips, discussing poetry and politics instead of battle and war tactics.

It’d been disgustingly easy for them to make the switch from warrior to bureaucrat, taking the status boost in stride. Those who couldn’t, they stayed with their lords if they were lucky. The warriors who weren’t… Keigo would need an abacus to count the ones who weren’t so lucky, the countless rumors and reports of wandering rōnin with familiar names never failing to reach over the palace walls to get to him.

(Oh, what he would give to join them.)

Of course, he’d been intending to brood ponder over this in the seclusion of the garden he’d discovered a few days ago, staring at the green buds of the young lotuses in the water until his head spun. The sight of the concubine sitting in his spot (that he was certain was too secluded to be found) told him fate had other plans, however.

He cleared his throat and forced down the grimace once he saw the concubine jump, startled, before trying her best to smoothly turn and bow without looking too flustered.

“Good morning, madam.”

“Good morning—”

He smiled through the static in his brain at the mention of his surname, messily tacked to the honorific that he would never get used to. 

That name… it’s not mine. Don’t call me that.

A discordant mess of jumbled kanji that sounded nothing like the powerfully elegant names in the court. The ill-fitting characters standing out like an eyesore on his documents, the syllables falling awkwardly off the tongue in conversation.

Wholly fitting for an outsider like him, really.

The mention of that name grated something terrible in him, and he settled for keeping his teeth grit into a smile. A sheltered concubine wouldn’t know, of course she wouldn’t know. Practically no one did, so he had no one to fault but his own cursed sensitivity to a name he wanted to burn.

“Do you mind if I join you?” The slight twitch in her demure smile was answer enough, but he’d set aside time for this escape, and damn if he was going to let it go to waste.

“Of course not. Please, don’t mind me, my lord.”

He dipped his head in thanks and you bowed in return, the silence hanging in the air settling into something stiff and awkward. 

A minute passed… 

Then another… 

Then five… 

Keigo was going to go mad at this rate. Neither of you had any intention of leaving the rare pocket of seclusion, and the competitive whisper in the corner of his mind told him that leaving first meant conceding, meant losing.

(In his world, losing meant death.)

Keigo’s had enough of losing in life despite his dumb luck, thank you very much.

So, he did what he knew he did best. He talked. Shattering the awkward silence in an effort to coax the tranquil silence he was searching for back into the little gazebo by the pond. Maybe if he ran his mouth long enough, you’d get tired and leave.

“You’re a new face in the palace.”

With an expectant gaze, he watched the telltale shift from awkward to apprehensive, the rigidness of your stature sharply contrasting the flowing brocade of your kimono as you looked back at him with a too-sharp gaze before casting your eyes away to the green buds in the water. Had he been any slower, Keigo would’ve thought that the conflicted expression you quickly smoothed over was solemn (it was anything but). 

“I would say the same to you, my lord, but every face in this castle is a new face to me.” You tilted your head with a thin-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Although… I’m sure an official who just arrived at the castle for his yearly residence would be an especially new face. Please excuse my rudeness.”

Keigo blinked. Once, twice, his jaw relaxing into a disbelieving smile at the sight of your steely gaze bright with a challenge and a smile sharper than the blades at his waist, the unsaid words ringing clearly. 

Two could play at this game.

Well, now, this was new. 

Perhaps it was your defiance that remained steadfast in this castle, or the blissful ignorance that made you one of the few to look at him straight on instead of down your nose. A little voice whispered that this would change in due time, the politics and power struggles confined within the castle never failing to break down even the most resilient. Those that didn’t know how to play the game correctly simply… vanished.

“Someone’s well-informed, I see.” He folded his hands behind his back, his wish for tranquility long forgotten. “I heard a new concubine has just entered the castle as well. A consolation prize, of sorts, from the farthest reaches of the country. Of course, as I’ve been gone for a year and have only been here for four, I’m not too sure.” He flicks his gaze to you, accepting your challenge with a knife-sharp smile of his own.

“I am curious as to what this concubine’s name is, however.”

You arched a brow, the thin-lipped smile widening into something sweet (that looked better on a fox rather than a beautiful concubine), and you bowed. Any trace of that stiff apprehensiveness dissolved into a graceful fluidity that seemed to disappear within the rippling silk of your kimono.

“Lady Y/N. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

To this day, he’ll never admit how surprised he was at your reverence, nor how his heart did a funny little flip in his chest when you giggled at his flustered response. What kind of fool gave respect to a commoner picked up from the slums?

You. Except you were no fool, and maybe that’s why he kept coming back like a moth to flame.

Time passed, and he found himself in that little garden day after day, morning after morning. Listening to the concubine who told vivid stories of lands he could only dream of, foods he found himself craving, and tales of warriors past. 

The conversations at dawn soon turned into stories of the past, the laments of the present, and dreams of a bleak future. With delicate hands and gently prying words, you two unlocked every bar and lock you’d put over your souls and allowed yourselves to lay them bare for each other, the intimacy of a bond forged in secrets and solidarity far stronger than any alliance or contract.

You two confided in each other in that garden, staring at the dew on the lilypads as you two whispered how you didn’t belong in the palace. How the confines of grand walls with ears and eyes were no place for the adopted commoner and a concubine far from home. Two people in this big world who were just lucky enough, fortunate enough to end up within this lavish palace, your lives guaranteed splendor and comfort. 

Then again—you two would share a conspiratorial laugh—maybe you two were unfortunate instead. What was splendor and comfort when you had to constantly watch for a knife in your back or poison in your cup? When a single misstep could cost you your life? 

Conversations shared with you, the concubine with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, were the most fulfilling he’s had in ages. Maybe it was the sense of formality that the intimacy of the waterside gazebo stripped away, or the unraveling realization that he hasn’t breathed this freely in ages, that he was looking forward to these moments in the morning. The intimacy shared in the garden he selfishly liked to call his own little world.

Keigo catches the smile you hide behind your sleeve when he steps into the gazebo, and he realizes you’re being selfish, too.

He didn’t know how the conversation got here, he didn’t know why he had a hairpin meant for you tucked into his sleeve. All he knew was that when it came to you, he was helpless to the whims of rambling and buying a pretty hairpin made of red jade because it reminded him of a sharp wit with a pretty smile.

“I live for this country and I die for this country. Well, not that there’s anything much to die for anyway.” Keigo’s laugh is empty, and your melancholic gaze even emptier. A fog had blown in that morning, covering the pond in a soft cover of white, and your soft voice and softer touch on his arm (careful, almost) silenced his dry laughter and left his throat even drier. 

“What you would die for is also an excellent reason to live, is it not?”

Your words, whispered into the stillness of the moment, resonated so loudly within his soul and forced a shaky breath out of his lungs as he gazed in awe at you. At the soft, ethereal glow in the fog cast by the rising sun breaking through the clouds, the scent of bloomed lotuses wafting in on the breeze that rustles the dangling pieces of your hair ornaments. He is weak to whims when it comes to you, so he pulls out the hairpin burning a hole in his sleeve to slip into your hair with shaking hands unbefitting a swordsman. Keigo watches your eyes sparkle like the gem in your hair, and his heart lifts with hope as he whispers his devotion into the warm morning, carried by the wind into a sea of blooms.

“I’ll live for you, then.”

And with a smile, you fall in love.

(Keigo falls even harder.)

【 ☀︎ 】

He should have known.

“I don’t know what I was expecting from the son of a criminal.”

He really should have known.

“What was that fool thinking, taking a street rat like you in all those years ago?”

Honestly, he’d like an answer to that, too. Too bad the old man was dead and left him to inherit a position he didn’t even want. To think he’d agree with the emperor for once in his short life.

“Tsk, a son will follow in his father’s footsteps, after all. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.”

Keigo should be concerned that he couldn’t feel how the coarse dirt dug into his knees anymore, his cheek still aching from where the guard had punched him. 

(Okay, yes, he deserved it, but he could’ve done without tasting iron.)

The sadistic glee in the guard’s face after he landed that “disciplinary strike” told him otherwise. With a bitter grimace, he spat red into the dirt.

How long has he been kneeling here? Minutes? Hours? The words echoing over and over in his head pulled him away from his present reality, bringing him back to the blur that was the past two days.

(Three? He couldn’t be sure, time passes oddly in a prison cell.)

The servants whispering about a concubine being expelled from the harem, the handmaid being promoted to concubine suspiciously quickly, and sudden memories of too-loud rustling coming from the treeline that he’d foolishly brushed off. All of it culminated in the form of palace guards dragging him from his study all the way to the harem to throw him at the emperor’s feet.

“Could the street rat not keep his hands off the women of the court? Plenty to pick back where you came from.” 

Keigo wanted to vomit at the cloying stench of sake, unpleasant memories rushing to the forefront of his mind and forcing his limbs to lock from age-old fear. Not like he could use them anyway, with heavy hands on each shoulder pinning his knees to the tatami and his blades having long been tossed away in the struggle to drag him here.

“Oh, my lord, haven’t you heard?” A sickeningly saccharine voice pulled the man’s attention away to coo at the woman curled into his side, cradling a bottle of warmed sake. “Apparently the small-time nobleman who adopted him, did it knowing he was the son of that criminal you were having trouble with all that time ago.”

The grip forcing his head down loosened from the resounding laughter that rippled around the room, just enough to allow Keigo to glare at the loose-lipped concubine. Your opportunistic maidservant who’d been all too willing to take your place in the harem, having taken her chance and fleeing with it. Her tittering giggles and power-drunk grin grated his ears, and he kept glaring. Daring her to look back, to look him in the eye without feeling an ounce of guilt for what she had done.

Almost as if she heard his furious challenge, she took a glance at the man pinned to the floor (trying to look down her nose like she had been looked down on. Pathetic fool.)  only to jump at the righteous fury burning in his gaze, fear clouding her conscience for a precious moment. 

More, Keigo urged, rage bitter on his tongue, Guilt, shame, despair, all of it.

I hope you regret this for the rest of your life. Lament, as punishment for ruining hers—

“Don’t assume what I have and haven’t heard, woman,” The drunkard grunted, holding his cup out for her to pour with shaking hands and a meek surrender, “But, the man was losing his mind from age. What was that fool thinking, taking a dirty brat like this in all those years ago? Too useless to bear a son nor keep a wife, so he had to stoop low enough to take in a criminal’s son from the slums.”

Righteous fury welled up in his chest, and his body moved before his brain could catch up, spit landing at the emperor’s feet. Almost immediately thereafter, his head whipped to the side, cheek smarting from the sharp strike the guard’s knuckles had indented into his swelling cheek. He grit his teeth as that same cheek came down on the tatami, someone pressing his head into the ground.

“Years upon years of trying to force yourself into nobility, and you’d think you’d learn some respect along the way.”

Had he not been the one with his face pressed into the ground, Keigo would’ve laughed at the shade of fury-red the man’s face was turning. Sake did not treat him well. The concubines at his side, fearing for their lives, immediately rushed to whisper soothing words and calming pleas. Somehow, it worked, and he reclined back into his seat with a heavy sigh, draining the sake in one gulp.

“The son of a criminal shall inevitably become a criminal. Now that I think about it, this is a wonderful opportunity to get rid of an eyesore. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.” A sadistic grin split his lips around the cup, chortling with laughter at his own (terrible) wit. “Being buried next to his criminal father! What a filial son!”

The table shook from the force of a fine porcelain cup slamming down on it, as if the emperor were stamping his death certificate right then and there.

(He was.) 

“Get him out of my sight. The next time I want to see his head is on the gates of Kozukappara.”

Keigo the official had died in that room, and the man that was dragged out by his shoulders left the castle as a criminal.

“Done saying your prayers?” 

Slowly, he looked up from the white paper fan set in front of him in place of the tantō that should’ve been there for his use (obligatory seppuku, his muddled brain supplied with annoyingly familiar haughtiness, so the ex-warrior could die a warrior. What a joke—) to the man he’d chosen to be his executioner. Normally, he would’ve snapped back with something witty, something sharp, but going days without water wasn’t treating him well. A heavy sigh, and the man ran a frustrated thumb down the bright blue wrap of his katana hilt. 

“The concubine, of all women? An imperial concubine, at that. I’d expect you to know better than that, my friend.”

Ah, the static in his head was a little stronger today. Wonderful.

“I thought I knew better, too. At least I get to die to someone with a steady hand.”

He scoffed, thumb running over the blue hilt again. Keigo idly remembered seeing the man rub his burn-leathered skin the same way countless times, the anxious habit having stubbornly ingrained itself into his being since childhood.

“Must you be so dark?”

“When am I not?” He managed to muster up a slow grin. “I’m hurt, I thought my closest companion would’ve known this after years of keeping swords out of each other’s backs.”

The heavy gong announcing his execution sounded, and he watched his best friend’s melancholic gaze glaze over into soulless steel that mirrored the blade drawn from its hilt. Keigo dipped his head with a solemn smile and shut his eyes in resignation.

I really… should’ve known…

“Keigo!”

Everything paused for a breath, in shock at your shout breaking the stillness of the moment. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who was crying out, trying to delay the inevitable certainty. A sharp smile and an even sharper tongue reduced to nothing but cries and desperation.

“...I’ll continue.” The executioner ignored your desperate “No!” as he shifted his stance, scarred hands steady as he placed the blade against the back of his neck despite the pain Keigo knew he was in. 

It would’ve been nice to hold you in his arms, at least once— 

No, for eternity.

The blade came down and, like a lotus facing the sun in supplication, you screamed your despair into the heavens. 

That day, the blood red sunset matched the crimson pooling on the execution ground’s floor.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Private First Class Takami Keigo marching into a small city on the way to the front lines, rifle slung over his shoulder and feet aching.

They’ve been marching through the night, and for the first time in his life, he found himself grateful for Japan’s humid summer nights. He’d take sweat over losing toes from frostbite any day. 

But, he decides, sighing in relief along with the rest of the company at the sight of a town once they crested the hill, there was nothing like the relief of a warm bed and any food other than the tasteless military rations.

“Tired already?” The low voice beside him would’ve made him jump had it not been so familiar.

“Aw, what’s this? Is Touya-kun worried for little old me?” Keigo shot a grin at the man marching next to him and dodged the elbow that he aimed at his side with a short laugh.

“A tired soldier is a dead soldier.” A pause, and the next response came backed with a dry laugh. “Not like it’d affect you and your monstrous instincts, anyway.”

“Yes, as we’ve been told a thousand times, General.” The teasing tilt to his voice came easy, and he let his best friend elbow him this time, too busy laughing at his annoyance. 

Should he have been a little more worried of the captain catching him messing around? Yes, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Judging by the restless shifting rippling through the soldiers, no one was too worried about getting a scolding when they were so close to a warm meal and rest.

“Think the inn will be big enough to house all of us? Another night sleeping on the floor doesn’t sound all that nice to me.” 

Touya scoffed as if his question was the stupidest thing he’d heard all day, keeping his gaze straight as he adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, the company shifting around them into formation as they approached the gates.

“You’re complaining like it’s anything new to us.”

“Harsh.”

The conversation faded after that, the rough dirt under his boots soon transitioning into the packed earth of the town’s main street as residents gathered to whisper and gawk at the soldiers passing through, the sight of their uniforms a jarring eyesore in this sleepy town. 

A sleepy, familiar town.

Keigo’s mind was spinning. His restless gaze kept flicking around the too-familiar buildings and shops and people that remained after all these years. The restaurant with the broken kitchen window that was too easy to sneak into, the grocer who still kept his trash bin too close to the alley, the old woman sitting in front of her izakaya who always had ginger candy and a meal to give. 

They slowed to a stop in front of the large inn, and he stared up at the building that looked much smaller than he remembered, the interior much less grand than he’d imagined it to be as they filed their way in, and he found himself in the room he once dreamed of sleeping in. There, Keigo sat in near disbelief, on the futon that wasn’t as soft as he thought it would’ve been.

“How time flies, huh?” He looked up to see Touya dropping his pack next to his futon and sitting down across from him with a melancholy grin.

There was too much Keigo wanted to say, nostalgia bitter in the back of his throat, so he settled for a matching smile.

“Old Man Yasutaro never got around to fixing that boarded up window.” 

Touya barked out a surprised laugh, Keigo’s smile widening into a self-satisfied grin.

“You ever think he did that on purpose? He always did stock too much food.”

“Are you kidding?” Keigo shuddered at the phantom pain of the beatings he earned. “He was scary whenever he caught us, there’s no way mean ol’ Yasutaro would do all that just for a pair of orphans on the street.”

“Mm, I don’t know, he was always pretty sweet to Granny Tamayo, so anything that made him look good in her book.” Touya leaned back on his arms, the melancholy melting into the ease of bittersweet nostalgia. It was easier to smile through the painful memories rather than dwell on the past, so Keigo let himself toss his head back with a laugh.

“God, her ginger candy was the best.” 

“You sure it was the candy? Or the granddaughter who always snuck an extra piece to you?” That earned Touya a frustrated noise of protest and a half-hearted kick he dodged.

“That was ages ago!”

“And you still react like a little boy!” 

Keigo groaned, burying his face into his hands as if that would tune out Touya’s cackling laughter. It was short moments like this that took the weight off his shoulders, the murmurs of public dissent, the leaked plans of a planned riot, the magnitude of his actions tomorrow morning.

(Civilians. Of all things, why did it have to be civilians?)

He suddenly pushed himself to his feet, the heavy weight having pushed itself back onto his shoulders and slotting the familiar hum of alertness back into place. Touya gave him a knowing look that he, decidedly, ignored in favor of getting out before his mind swallowed him whole.

“Dinner is supposed to be in a bit, we should get going.”

“Wonderful job of changing the subject, really.”

“Wonderful job of being annoying.”

Touya dodged another swipe of the leg, laughing at his displeasure as he stood to follow.

“Why thank you, I try.” His grin widened with a certain glint in his eye that Keigo found himself dreading. “Now let’s get going, I heard some of the guys are at Granny Tamayo’s izakaya.”

“What?”

“My, isn’t that little Keigo? And little Touya?” 

Keigo faltered halfway through the entrance, smoothing his grimace into a smile as he watched the old lady totter over from her seat with all the coddling of a grandmother. The soldiers within earshot (who were already drinking and eating away. It was barely sunset—) paused to gawk and grin at the endearing interaction.

“Not so little anymore, Granny.”

“I’ll say. Are you eating alright? Is the military treating you well?”

“Granny!”

“What’s this? Speedy and Torchface have some history here?” Keigo kept his smile smooth, only shifting it just the slightest bit into what he knew would look like a sheepish grin instead of the pained grimace underneath the surface. Boisterous laughter that only alcohol could bring rippled around the spacious izakaya, the men cracking jokes over drinks and food.

“Careful calling him Torchface, he has the temper to match.”

Ah, there it is. Touya shouldered past him to stalk towards the offending table with a scarily wide grin, pulling the loose-lipped rookie into a chokehold, his wide grin unmoving.

“‘Has a temper’ my ass, you’re just jealous that a guy with a bunch of burn scars has an easier time with women than you idiots.”

The laughter only grew louder, Granny Tamayo’s expression softening at the interaction before turning back to Keigo with a nostalgic smile.

“Not so little… I see.” She motioned to the table Touya had made a space for himself at, shoving the rookie (who was still in a chokehold, poor kid) aside to make room for him. “Take a seat, dear, and the drinks will be right out.”

The too-loud laughter and incessantly clinking glasses filled the space up with ear-grating noise, and Keigo wanted to leave. Search for peace and solitude in the quiet streets in a way that was strangely familiar. 

(For a fleeting moment, he thought a quiet garden would be nice.)

However, he’d rather eat with the company of drunks rather than the void of his own mind and the horrors silence tended to bring, so the migraine starting to brew in the back of his head was a small price to pay. As was the heavy arm slung over his shoulder from some random soldier, alcohol-loosened and heavy, and the awkward conversation he found himself following along with perfectly tailored humor.

“Alright, I have two beers as well as a few rounds of edamame and—” 

The familiar voice stopped short, and Keigo felt his heart stop in tandem. Slowly, he looked up and saw the girl who used to sneak out an extra candy when her grandmother wasn’t looking, now a woman in the izakaya uniform balancing trays in one hand and two mugs in the other. 

“...Keigo?”

Almost as if the locked gates had been thrown open, a new rush of memories past had overcome him. Jaunts through the town disguised as adventures, clumsily dancing around an old gramophone and calling it a waltz, and the start of blossoming love. Keigo simply smiled, easygoing and familiar, like it hadn’t been years since you saw him run to the military with Touya the first chance they had, drawn by the promise of food and shelter. Like he hadn’t left a malnourished boy and come back a man with more scars than skin.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“‘Been a while.’” You rolled your eyes, setting down the mug in front of him with a huff. “The two most important people in my life run off to join the army without so much as a word, and that’s what you say?”

His words stopped halfway up his throat the moment he saw Granny Tamayo come up behind you to pinch you on the arm, the half-formed response morphing into a laugh as he watched you flinch back with a surprised (and betrayed) yelp.

“Y/N, darling, don’t be rude to the customers.” You pouted, rubbing at the sore spot on your upper arm.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“It’s fine, Granny. Nothing new, right?” At the sight of his cheeky smile, the old woman scoffs, something endearing, before nudging him out of his seat despite your noise of protest.

“Well, since you two seem to be talking of nothing but the past, why don’t you go take a walk down memory lane?”

“Wha— Grandmother! There’s still customers—”

“Kaede can handle it just fine! Shoo, shoo, get out of my hair.” 

Without missing a beat, Granny Tamayo smoothly plucked the trays from your hands and nudged you two towards the door as the soldiers watching roared with laughter and cooed jokes at the two “childhood lovers”. Keigo turned towards Touya, almost desperately, in a futile search for— what? Escape? Wasn’t he looking for escape in the first place?

“Wait, Granny, come on. Touya’s part of this too, isn’t he?”

“Don’t drag me into this, a trip down memory lane isn’t for me!” With an arm still slung over the now-wheezing rookie’s shoulder, Touya raised the cup of sake he’d ordered as if in toast. Whether it was to Keigo’s mortification, or to the potential opportunities this meant, Keigo didn’t want to know.

Probably both.

(...Probably the former, if he were to be honest with himself.)

A flurry of drunken laughter and lighthearted jokes, half-hearted protests that fell on deaf ears, and insistent pushing at his back later, he found himself standing outside the izakaya, blinking up at the full moon before looking over at you.

“...Did we just get kicked out?”

“I think we did.” You snorted, scuffing a mark into the dirt path with your heel, and Keigo wanted the earth to crack open and swallow him whole. What was he supposed to do? Stuck with the remnants of a rekindling love, the awkwardness that tended to come with years of estrangement and words that failed him when it came to you. 

Well, there’s really only one thing he could do.

Talk.

“So, what’s new with you?” He immediately cringed at his choice of words, forcing himself to school his expression over into an easygoing smile instead of recoiling like he so desperately wanted to do. 

Nice going there, Keigo, really.

“...Same old.” Your quiet answer snapped him out of his thoughts, and he tilted his head, almost like he was beckoning you to continue. “Same old town, same old job, same old life. I pretty much walked the path everyone knew I was going to go on as the granddaughter of the izakaya’s owner.”

You looked up with a sheepish grin, the bright moonlight casting the world (and you) in a silver glow, and Keigo felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Not the most exciting to a man from the military, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve seen a lot—” Keigo rubbed at the identification tag hidden under his clothes by force of habit, the leather cord heavy around his neck. He has seen a lot. Too much, to be exact, but how would he even begin to explain the horrors of man to someone… “normal”? How could he?

For someone whose wit and silver tongue helped him survive all these years, he was awfully tongue-tied tonight. Or maybe it was just you, and the surreal lightness settling into his soul that had him stumbling over his words.

“But you’ve seen enough?” You finished his sentence with a wry grin, and the surprised laugh found itself past his lips before he could catch it. How could he forget? You were always, always a step ahead of him. Back then and even now.

“Enough of my barracks and Touya’s face? Yeah, definitely.” You swatted his arm with a huff, and the familiar action made the next laugh come a little easier, his chest a little lighter as the awkwardness slowly dissipated into something… comfortable. Normal.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” 

“Well, that’s your answer, Y/N. Don’t know what else to tell you,” He shrugged in mock ignorance, and you groaned, going back to worrying at the deepening scuff in the dirt. 

“What, so, we both had boring lives?”

Far from boring.

“...Yeah, I guess so.” 

You pursed your lips and stared out at the quiet street, the beat of silence almost bordering on awkward by the time you broke it with a resolute sigh, starting to walk forward into the moonlight.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make up for it somehow.” 

“And how would you do that?”

“By going back to when life wasn’t so boring,” You hummed, spinning to face him and grandly spreading your arms, as if you were presenting the lantern-lit street to him, “C’mon! Tonight, this main street is memory lane!”

“Aren’t you taking me out of town at one point, though?”

“Oh, hush. Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, coming.”

Oh, your smile was radiant, and Keigo had to force himself to keep moving instead of gaping like a fool.

(Was it possible for him to make you smile like that all the time?)

For the next hour, time seemed to stop. The moon stood frozen in the sparkling sky, watching two star-crossed lovers go around town, laughing and reminiscing on what could’ve been. What could be, if Keigo were to be bold. You took him down Main Street as promised, and he found it hard to relate to the memories you spoke of, associating each store with scornful stares and pitiful ignorance. Eventually, you two looped around to the outskirts of town. To the river that looked more like a creek now, and the quaint houses and maze of alleyways. To familiarity.

He smiles as he watches you skip rocks in the creek, laughs when you wrinkle your nose at the dog that always seems to only bark when you two pass by Old Man Yasutaro’s gate, and revels in the memories.

“You still suck!”

“Hey! It’s not like we skip rocks all the time in the military.”

You merely rolled your eyes and continued to skip ahead, the slow and awkward trudge from before revived into the enthusiastic step he remembered, fueled by the joys of nostalgia and escape. 

This, Keigo realizes, is nostalgia.

Not the pain of remembering a past he wanted to forget, not looking at alleyways to remember what used to be his childhood, not thinking of the shops as someplace otherworldly. Rather, it was this. The joy of reminiscing on good times. The joy of breathing new life into old memories.

The joy he now knew was to be found in you.

“Hey.” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see you grinning, the moonlight illuminating something akin to mischief in your eyes. “Remember that old gramophone we could never figure out when we were little?”

“You mean you could never figure out. I didn’t want to touch it because Granny Tamayo is a scary, scary woman.”

And a dirty street orphan’s hands had no place on such an expensive thing.

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, following along anyway as you set off down the path with a new purpose. The route was familiar, and Keigo already had an idea of where this was going, but who was he to speak when you were nearly buzzing with excitement?

“What I mean to say is: I figured it out, so—” You spun in place again, taking his hand, and his heart damn near stopped, “—would you like this dance? To some actual music, this time.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? A proper lady needs the proper etiquette, after all.” His cheeky grin betrayed the politeness of his words, and you scoffed, tugging him along.

“Like you would ask me first.” Keigo’s tongue stalled around a response, scrambling for a proper comeback because you were right. Deep down, he knew that he still never would’ve asked you first for anything. It wasn’t his place. First, as a kid on the street compared to the granddaughter of the izakaya owner. Now, as a man with blood on his hands compared to an innocent civilian, untainted by the shadows of war.

Who was he to ask anything from a normal person?

“Lead the way, then.”

There was that radiant grin again, brimming with excitement and sending him reeling. Keigo couldn’t help but let your enthusiasm rub off on him as he followed you to the little communal courtyard behind Granny Tamayo’s home, where he knew that she liked to keep that Western gramophone to play for guests. You broke away to go and try and work the old machine, mumbling to yourself as you fiddled with the knobs and rifled through the records filed away in the ornate cabinet it was sitting on. 

He took the chance to look around the empty courtyard, struck with the realization that it hadn’t changed at all in the years he was gone. He left all those years ago, only to return to a town that seemed almost frozen in time. It was too far from the cities for all the modern inventions to catch up with it, so the only things that changed were, well, the people. Keigo most of all. What if he hadn’t—

The sudden burst of music and your shout of victory cut off his wandering train of thought, and you walked back into his line of vision with a triumphant grin.

“I still don’t know how to fix the tempo, so the song’s a little slow. You’ll have to forgive me for that.” You offered up your hand and tilted your head, still smiling. “May I have this dance?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Like you’d ask me first.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo grinned in well-earned defeat, and his hand slipped into yours with the other on your waist. The music swelled, and he took the first step.

One, two, three, one, two, three…

With too-slow, clumsy steps, the two of you slowly began waltzing your way around the small courtyard. You still kind of didn’t know how to work the gramophone—the song almost eerily slow, despite the years of fiddling—but that didn’t matter in the face of the giddy smiles shared, your soft laughs when he spun you in a flash of spontaneity, and the nostalgia of old times.

Before, he was a scrawny kid on the street who clumsily tried to follow the steps of the pretty girl playing a song on her father’s gramophone. Tomorrow, he would be Private First Class Takami Keigo, fighting for his life on the battlefield. Tonight, he would be normal again, slow dancing to Clair de Lune playing off an old, off-beat gramophone with you in his arms, mourning a start he didn’t get to have.

(As normal as a kid scrounging for scraps on the street could’ve been.)

Your voice, soft and wavering, broke the stillness of the moment, as if it were something taboo that shouldn’t have been uttered into existence at all.

“Keigo?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

You flushed at the endearment, the next words shattering his illusion of happiness within nostalgia with the renewed vigor of confidence in the face of the impossible.

“Will you come home?”

Home.

A simple word, really. And yet it dropped like a stone in his chest. Home meant a roof over his head. Home meant warm food on the table. Home meant a simple life in a sleepy rural town. Home meant the promise of a new beginning.

To you, “home” probably meant nothing more than the place you had known all your life.

To him, “home” meant you.

So, like a dreamer in love, he answered with all the confidence of a fool.

“Yeah... I will. I don’t care how long it’ll take me, but I’ll come home.”

He thought the shaky lilt to his voice would’ve given him away, or the way his step faltered in the already clumsy waltz as if trying to step around what he knew should’ve been the answer. 

Instead, you laughed. Something soft, and let him spin you once more.

“Well, I’ve already waited a couple years, what’s a little more waiting?”

Keigo had to keep himself from double checking if this was real. Dancing with you in the moonlight as he tried to step around the reality of that answer with all the awkward grace of a scared child.

One, two, three, one, two, three… 

Truth be told, the both of you knew the answer long before you had pushed the question into desperate existence, searching for a shred of hope. That his simple answer should have been an realistic “I don’t know” or a pessimistic “no promises”, instead of a foolish “yes.”

Instead, he slowed the waltz to a sway, pulling you close to both ingrain the feeling of you into his soul and to hopefully hide the resigned melancholy of a soldier being carted off to uncertainty.

And, for a traitorous moment, Keigo wondered.

Dreamed, even.

What would it have been like to have a “normal” life? Instead of grasping the hand of desperation, would he have grown out of the side alleys and homes made of boxes into a “respectable” man? Maybe he could’ve gotten a job at the grocer’s, at Old Yasutaro’s restaurant, or maybe even Granny Tamayo’s izakaya. Could he have—he pulled you closer, pressing a ghost of a kiss to your temple—could he have courted you the “right” way? Brought you flowers and honey-sweet words of praise and promises of a happy future, instead of a single night dancing in the moonlight with a brittle promise hanging in the tense air that the both of you clung onto like a lifeline. A promise that Keigo wasn’t even sure he could fulfill.

He would later come to regret this single moment. Of this, he was sure.

(But, as you lifted your head from his chest with glassy eyes and a shaky smile, he knew he wasn’t alone in this regret.)

Keigo knew the words that you wished to let fall into the night air, in hopes of making that brittle promise tangible. Of giving life to a bright future with three little words. The reality crawled up his throat like poison, bitter and cloying, something that he knew shouldn’t be said. Keigo settled for gently wrapping his hand around your head to pull you closer, filtering the harsh truth into something a little softer, the bittersweet tone marking the unspoken truth as a reality instead of the dreams of a future.

One… two… three… 

“Don’t,” He muttered, heart tightening as he felt you go rigid in his arms, “I know. Please, God, I know—”

You slowly relaxed in his arms with all the bitter acceptance of a night before battle, and he murmured the next words into another ghost of a kiss. A whisper against your lips, seen only by the fading notes of a song in the moonlight.

“—but don’t.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo’s breath was rattling, ears ringing with war cries, death wails, and everything in between. The once-blue noon sky was now a startling haze of ash gray, thick with the choking scent of the world burning.

He couldn’t even tell where the carnage started or ended anymore.

(Would it ever end?) 

How long has it been since the first shot?

(Too long.) 

Would he live to see the sunset?

(Of all times to worry about this, why now?)

The incessant drill of artillery fire was nothing new to him, as was the stench of the battlefield that could only be described as death.  What was new, was something that pushed his aching body to keep moving, the autopilot state he usually entered backed with something raw. Something like fear.

Something like the will to survive.

The pain that set his nerves on fire has long since faded, all the pain of countless wounds blending together into something numbed by the adrenaline of survival. Were the wet patches on his uniform sweat? Blood? Both? He couldn’t tell anymore, all he knew was survival and the persistent voice whispering deadly distraction in the back of his mind.

Civilians. You’re fighting civilians, you mur—

The skin of his back prickled, the telltale whistling of something flying screeched in his ears, and his reflexes yanked him to dive out of the way before his mind could catch up. Not even a second later, another explosive detonated behind him and heat blazed across his back. His nerves screamed fresh pain into his senses and he grit his teeth, ignoring the concerning sound of sizzling over the ringing in his ears in favor of ducking into cover, collapsing against the wall of a destroyed building. 

Since when did regular people know how to make bombs?!

In the next breath, someone else had ducked into the small shelter he’d found in this hellscape of a city. 

Well, the remains of one. All hell broke loose once the other side brought homemade explosives into the fray and now, as he stared at the burning and destruction, Keigo wondered if those Westerners who muttered meaningless blessings whenever they passed were right. 

If this “Hell” they spoke of really was on Earth. 

He turned his head, suddenly sluggish, to the man that had joined him in the makeshift cover, and grinned at the familiar face.

“Hey, man.”

(Maybe giving his body a chance to slow down was a mistake.)

Touya ignored his exhausted greeting, instead opting to yank a rag from his pouch as he pulled Keigo to sit up so he could press the rag into the deep gashes the shrapnel had gouged into his back. Keigo immediately groaned in protest at the stinging pain, despite how necessary he knew it was.

“Fucking— how did you even survive that?”

“Dunno,” He let out a weak laugh, “Don’t think I will—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you myself.” Despite his harsh threat, Touya pressed the slowly darkening rag deeper into his wound. A desperate (futile) attempt to stop the life pooling onto the floor underneath them, steadily flowing from the deep gashes in his back and all the other wounds peppering his body.

“Isn’t that the exact opposite—” He hissed in pain at the pressure on his wounds, “—of what you want?” 

“Shut up.”

“You know you don’t want me doing that.”

(He was right. Keigo running his mouth meant that he was breathing. Meant that he was alive.)

Touya pressed his lips into a thin line, Keigo blearily tracking the way his burn scars pulled with the movement. 

Grounding himself, that’s what he’s supposed to do during times like this, right? Hell, he didn’t know. Not every day he came so close to death. Touya really needed to look into something for those sc—

“For the love of the gods, I am begging you to shut up.”

Ah, he said all that out loud? He managed to muster up a sheepish grin, despite Touya’s grim expression.

“Ooh, Touya? Begging? That’s a first, I should stay awake to hear it.” Keigo didn’t have to look to know that the rag was soaked through and Touya was fighting against the inevitable at this point. Keigo? He… he was too tired to fight to keep his eyes open. Too cold.

“Maybe you should stay awake to go home, loverboy.”

“I should.” He fumbled to find purchase, pressing his palm into the ground and scooting his feet closer for leverage. “Can’t leave Y/N waiting after all.”

Maybe it was the delirium from the blood-loss, or the desperation of this cursed situation, but Keigo tried to pull himself up. To move, to get somewhere safer, somewhere where he could survive. His palm slipped on the blood-slick floor underneath him and he came crashing down once more, his strength disappearing along with it as he slumped against Touya.

“Ah—”

“Shit, I’ll get you to the medic.” 

Keigo groaned at the pain of his wounds being jostled as Touya tried to haul the deadweight of his sluggish body up. The reality of the situation weighed heavy on his shoulders (or was it his strength leaving him?) and he licked his chapped lips, whispering the grim truth into the ash-hazy air.

“I’m not gonna make it to the medic.”

“How many times do I have to keep telling you to shut up?” Another attempt to pull him to his feet, and Keigo managed to push out a weak laugh.

“Just a couple more times.”

“Hey… hey, c’mon now, I still have to make fun of you and Y/N for being the most disgusting couple I’ve ever met.” He carefully shook Keigo, trying desperately to get him to keep his drooping eyes open.

“Aw, don’t tease Y/N too badly.”

Something changed in Touya’s voice, a block in his throat that he had to force his words through, and he clutched the dripping rag closer to his wounds as he muttered out his response.

“I won’t.”

“Good, good,” Keigo’s hands clumsily fumbled for the cord wrapped over his chest, tugging at it until it came loose. “Hey, can you tell Y/N that I’ll do my best to come home? In any way I can.”

“...Just do it yourself.” 

“Mm, that would… that would be nice. Coming home, I mean. I promised… Y/N… I would…”

His words faded, and Touya froze, arms suspended in midair around the slumped form of his best friend, his stunned gaze locked on the identification tag hanging from a limp, bloody hand.

“Kei...go?”

【 ☀︎ 】

Waiting was agony.

You used to think you were a patient person, years of dealing with drunks, horrible customers, and everything in between training the patience of a saint into you. 

Today, however, revealed that you were anything but. The moment the company had crested the hill and out of sight, your anxieties slowly overcame you the farther they went. Working in the izakaya helped, the constant flow of customers and orders kept you on your feet and your thoughts off the battle that was no doubt waging mere miles away. Every so often, a wandering patron would come in murmuring that they heard bits and pieces of the battle, and you forced yourself to forget again.

All that effort was lost once the company’s runner came barreling through the town, shouting that the soldiers were on their way back. That they needed spaces cleared for the wounded and their lodgings secured. They called for the doctor, they called for food, they called for supplies. 

If you didn’t know any better, it would’ve sounded like a cry for help.

Word spread like wildfire, and the rush of serving customers turned into the rush of trying to help prepare for the soldiers’ return. None of it helped get your mind off the one thing you didn’t want to worry about. If anything, it just shoved all your worries to the forefront of your mind, accompanied by the dull headaches of something you hoped were just random fantasies.

(Fantasies of a lotus garden, a guarded grin, a red hairpin, a betrayal—)

Would he have to be wrapped in the bandages you were carrying? Would he have to rest in the bedding in your hands? Would he be able to eat the food your grandmother was preparing?

Then, they came. 

A slow straggle of wounded and weary men, leaning and limping on each other as they slowly trickled in through the main street.

There were many things that wouldn’t happen, you would later realize, watching the company trudge back into the town. Their formation was shaky from the hobbling wounded, and you felt your heart drop as you desperately searched the noticeably thinner crowd, trying to peek through the uniforms and bandages and dented helmets for any sign that he had come home. That he had survived.

How many men did they lose?

(Too many.)

You watched the flow of soldiers slowly follow their commander to their lodgings and the doctor, the once boisterous crowd now silent and battle-worn. The rookie that had just been under a chokehold the other night was now cradling bandaged wounds and a gaunt expression that only told of his first brushes with death.

One soldier broke from the crowd to make his way towards you, and—for a fleeting moment—you hoped. 

And just as quickly as it came, that hope you had soon sunk into despair once you saw who it was, and what he held in his scarred hands.

Across the street, a man broke rank, with a heavier burden than most would’ve thought and few would ever experience. He hoped that no one would have to experience this, a death and the task of delivering such news weighing heavy on his shoulders.

Life, Touya thinks, is cruel.

It left such a brilliant mind like Keigo to starve with him on the streets.

It forced him to run to the military in desperation, searching for steady food and shelter.

It snatched away the one man who had salvation waiting for him.

Death, Touya grieves, is even crueler.

Keigo would never get to go home.

He wouldn’t get to see the joy on your face once you welcomed him home with open arms. 

(How could he? When your expression twists into something akin to dawning horror instead of joy, watching Touya make his way up to you with downcast eyes and a heavy bundle of fabric carefully cradled in his palm.)

He wouldn’t get to start the new life he deserved, in a sleepy rural town with the one he adored.

He wouldn’t get to fulfill his promise to you.

A promise that everyone knew was too risky a promise to make. Yet, he believed enough to make it to you.

A promise that Touya holds back on his tongue because he knew this—a little metal disc on a bloodstained cord—wouldn’t fulfill it, not when he hands you the neat square of scrap fabric and watches your tears flow before you even open it. Not when you slip out a worn identification tag, holding it up to the sunset to try and make out the letters you already knew were there.

A lantern illuminates what the fading sunlight could not, casting the stamped characters of Keigo’s bloodied name in an amber glow, and you crumble.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Professor Takami, Head of the Sociology Department, first through the doors of the campus café with essays to be finished grading in one hand and his laptop bag in the other.

The cashier greets him with a familiar warmth as he steps up to the counter, his staple order already halfway punched into the register with a knowing smile that he forces himself to return. There’s a nervous energy simmering under his skin that he can’t seem to shake, and it shows. The barista (Touya. His name is Touya. He literally has one of the guy’s essays in his hand, fucking hell. Get it together, Keigo) shoots the normally easygoing professor a worried look as he slides the warmed pastry across the counter to him, the full sleeves of swirling blue and black ink a stark contrast against the smooth wood of the counter.

“Everything good with you, Professor?”

“Perfect, now that I got my pastry. Think I’ll be even better once I drink some coffee.” 

Nothing was perfect, and he couldn’t even put a finger on what it was. 

He plastered a convincing smile on his face as he picked up the too-heavy plate, careful to hold it steady before making a beeline for his usual table. The faster he got to sit down at his usual corner booth and sort himself out, the better. 

He knew that he would just drown himself in grading papers instead of figuring out what was making him feel off, but it was the thought that counted.

The hum of energy under his skin was nothing new to him. Something deep inside that made him almost jumpy, wary of the peaceful days that had consumed his entire life, lying in wait for… something. For what? Keigo wished he knew.

(For battles yet started, for warcries yet sung, for survival yet fought for.)

All he knew was that the strange hum that threatened to vibrate him out of his own skin was different this time. Wrong. It didn’t help that his sleep had been suffering for the past week, plagued by dreams and nightmares both of eras past, the blurry picture of the same person a constant sight in the swirling mix of history. Images flickering between a secluded lotus garden and an elaborate kimono to an old izakaya and Clair de Lune at moonrise. Images of yearning and blood and tragedy and endings before the beginnings.

At least his conversations with the once-intimidating Japanese Literature professor got a smidge more interesting.

With the resolute click of a red pen, he swept away the thoughts clouding his mind as he resigned himself to his fate of just dealing with the strange mood for now, fully intent on getting to work. Years of repetition and muscle memory had him opening up his email with practiced ease, quietly sighing to himself as he waited for the doubtlessly endless emails from students and colleagues alike to load. 

Would procrastinating just the tiniest bit by fiddling with the rolled cuffs of his sleeves or pushing up his glasses for the nth time help at all? 

No, but it let Keigo expel the weirdly restless energy in what ways he could, the creeping sense of foreboding setting his nerves into overdrive. The page loaded and he frowned at the onslaught of emails he knew were going to flood his inbox. 

Hell, he expected them to.

What he didn’t expect were the contents, the subject lines all variations of “Did you know?” and “There’s no way” and “I can’t believe it” from colleagues he didn’t even talk to regularly. Sure, the email from the cultural anthropology professor made sense, but the graphic design professor? The head of the business department?

Before he could open the first email of many, his laptop chirped out the familiar ‘ding!’ of a new email, the sound rippling through the café as everyone’s phones and laptops lit up with the same message. 

A schoolwide email? Okay, th—

The world slowed to a crawl, everyone in the packed coffee shop silencing almost at once and the shocked whispers rippling throughout the space only serving to make the silence all the more deafening (“Hey, check your email.” and “Look at this.” and “No way.” and it was too loud someone please make it stop—), his ears near ringing as he struggled to tear his gaze away from the picture embedded at the top of the page.

“Looking a little rough there.” The cotton suddenly stuffing his ears muffled the barista’s voice and would’ve made him jump out of his skin had he been focused on anything but burning the email into his eyes. God, he’d barely even registered the guy coming up to serve his coffee, what was wrong with him? “Professor? Was it that email?”

“Y-Yeah, I just read it.” He cleared his throat and slid the mug closer to himself, taking a sip of the scalding hot coffee to ground himself as he stared at the picture of you. 

The barista merely arched a pierced brow and muttered a soft “ah.” before going back to his spot behind the espresso machine, vibrant blue eyes tracking the rattled professor suspiciously. Keigo was too preoccupied to thank him as he usually would’ve. Too preoccupied with what was staring back at him from his laptop screen.

A picture placed right under the subject line plastering “Unfortunate news about Prof. L/N Y/N” across his screen, the few words in the body text (that he could pick out through the sudden tidal wave of memories past clicking into place) painted an image that he couldn’t help but mourn.

After being reported missing… remains found… will be missed.

Will be missed… 

Well, now that he thought about it, Keigo had been missing you all his life, hadn’t he? 

Both figuratively and literally, always arriving after you left and vice versa, never really seeming to connect in person. Any emails were shrouded with a veil of professionalism that he couldn’t pierce through. Yet, there were things so irrevocably you that he knew to pick out now. The jovial note at the end of your emails, the unapologetically confident sharpness to your words, the extra mug you left for the next person that passed through the faculty lounge (that somehow always ended up being him on the days he was rushing to his next lecture). 

All these things, all these moments, and the fool had passed all of them by.

The restless energy humming under his skin through his entire being disappeared much quicker than it had come, its job done, leaving a gaping  void in its wake that was shockingly familiar. Almost as if this wasn’t the first time this had happened, where the curtains never raised on the beginning you two could’ve had. He took a shuddering, stabilizing breath (that didn’t work), too numb to feel the freshly brewed coffee scalding his tongue that he had hoped would pull him back to reality, hoped the sweet taste would wash away the bitterness at the back of his throat and the splitting headache of years upon years of memories crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Professor Takami had work to get done.

Keigo could mourn later.

Even as he convinced himself of that, he couldn’t even bring himself to brush the dead lotus petals off his work, the sight of the wilted centerpiece only bringing more pain. The cruel coincidence of the once bloomed flowers now dead in his hands didn’t go unnoticed, and Keigo desperately tried to bore the printed words laid in front of him into his mind. 

As if doing that would sear away the sudden onslaught of memories, dead lotus petals igniting a yearning for a long-demolished lotus garden and a pretty concubine who didn’t belong in the palace (or was it a small town and the life he could’ve had?) and the love that slipped through his fingers once more.

Did you go through this too? When he—

The half-graded essays lay untouched for the rest of the day, red ink disappearing in the crimson light cast by the setting sun.

【 ☀︎ 】

When did I…?

He blinked down at the concrete under his feet, stunned, before looking up to see an endless sea of trains passing in front of him. The incessant rushing of the trains around him had replaced the silence of the hotel room he was supposed to be sound asleep in, the too-rhythmic noise of the train tracks surrounding him in an almost ethereal white noise. 

I had just gone to bed… How did I end up at a train station?

He winced at the glare of the midday sun reflecting off of the last car of the train passing in front of him, before stopping short at the sight of someone standing on the other side of the tracks—alone—revealed by the passing train. His heart leapt into his throat and pushed a name he didn’t know and wouldn’t remember out of his lips. There was no way he knew her, the multi-layered kimono and elegant hairpins looked like something out of a millenia-old ukiyo-e print and wholly out of place in a modern train station. But... something deep in his soul knew that it was right, and it sang as he watched the woman turn around. 

“You’re dreaming right now, Keigo. Go back to sleep,”

“What…?” 

“It’s true,” The woman tilted her head with the soft smile that he’d missed so much (missed? Wasn’t this his first time seeing it?) and the ancient hairpieces jingled and swayed with the movement, his gaze locking on a familiar crimson gemstone catching the sunlight, “Don’t believe me? Try to count some numbers, then. One… two…”

Another train hurtled past, blocking his view once more as her painted lips moved soundlessly around the final number.

“Three.”

Keigo sat up with a gasp, staring at the soft shafts of light the sunrise painted on the walls.

It was the start of a new day, and he found himself mourning something lost that he couldn’t even remember.

Dawn finds Hawks, the number two hero, leaping out of his Tokyo hotel window, wind catching on vermilion wings to buffer his descent to the sidewalk.

He was far from home, his current mission dragging him all the way to Tokyo from his agency in Fukuoka. Sneakers touched concrete, and he started down the path where he was supposed to meet with the last person he wanted to see right now. Especially after that mess with the High-End Nomu. He shuddered, spreading his wings as if to remind himself that they were all there, recovered after that hellish fight.

Come to the location on foot, he’d been told, and don’t be conspicuous.

Weird request, and it was kind of hard to remain inconspicuous when he was the number two hero and had a pair of bright red wings announcing his identity to the world. Alas, he needed to cooperate or else he’d end up jeopardizing the entire mission, so Keigo settled for ditching his hero costume in favor of casual clothes and a cap to hide his identity. He pulled a mask over his nose and tucked his wings closer to further help conceal himself as he walked down the street, dipping into the first alley he saw.

His path through the grid of alleyways and side streets had already been mapped out the days before, so it was just a matter of making the short trek there. Unfortunately, the area wasn’t the best, and Keigo found himself slowed by sidestepping trash and the occasional bottle of liquor. The scent of stale alcohol only brought unpleasant fragments of memories, and he pushed them aside in favor of quickening his pace.

“My, not every day I see such a bigshot hero pass by.”

He almost tripped over another bottle, wings ruffling in surprise as he cursed himself for being caught off guard.

There was an old woman sitting there, a steaming cup of tea in her hands as she sat outside her quaint little storefront. 

A flower shop, in this secluded side street? 

“Ah, sorry, ma’am, you have the wrong person. I mean, me? The number 2 pro hero?” He was quick to deny her, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. She merely hummed and took another sip of her tea.

“Do I? Well, this old woman’s eyes aren’t what they used to be after all.” She set down the cup and stepped out of her chair, shuffling over to the water feature on the other side of the doorway that served as an attraction. He could see why, the soft rush of the small waterfall and fragrant lotuses drawing his attention the more he stared.

Suddenly, the woman plucked one of the younger lotuses, patting the stem dry before handing it to him with a smile.

“Uh—”

“You saved my son that day, from the Nomu attack in Fukuoka. This is the least I could do.”

Against his better judgement—he really needed to get going to catch the train in time—he took the half-bloomed lotus in his hands and pulled down his mask to smile at her.

“Your eyes are… actually pretty sharp, ma’am. Thank you.”

She laughed, sitting back in her seat and sent him on his way. The rest of the walk went smoothly after that, and he soon found himself jogging up the stairs to the station, muttering under his breath as he checked his watch. 

Right on time.

【 ☀︎ 】

A strange sense of deja vu creeped into his chest as he stepped onto the platform in Minami-senju station. He’d been feeling off all day, and the weird sense of familiarity that had been tugging at the back of his mind didn’t help. Luckily, he’d managed to arrive in time to catch the noon train so the rest of his schedule should hopefully go smoothly from here. A departing train screeched into motion, and he winced at the rippling glare of sunlight that reflected into his eyes, the strange deja vu rearing its head again.

Keigo stared at the train passing in front of him as he idly twirled the lotus stem in between his fingers. The words left his lips before he could catch himself.

“One… two…” He cut himself off with a sigh, dropping his head and dragging a hand over his face.

It was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

Keigo.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, the world darkening under the shade of a passing cloud. Did he just imagine that? He had to. The train station was practically stranded, and there was no one even close enough to call his name without shouting across the station (if they even knew his name in the first place). Despite his better judgement, he wet his lips and shut his eyes, the strangely familiar words passing his lips once more as he desperately tried to recall the familiarity he longed for.

“One…”

I want to see you.

“Two…” 

I don’t even know who you are, but I miss you anyway.

“Three—”

Suddenly, the steady rhythm of the train tracks silenced and left him with the raging drum of his heartbeat, the blood rushing in his ears as he stared at the person standing on the other side of the tracks. The emerging sun smiled upon him, casting the world in light once more as his voice locked around a familiar name he’d never spoken.

It started as a hushed whisper, and he swallowed the lump in his throat to call the name thrice ingrained into his soul.

“Y/N!”

The familiar smile that bloomed across your lips was answer enough as he pushed through the newly arrived train to the other side, to you. He reached out, clawing through the rush hour crowd (why were there so many people? Why were you so far? Closer, closer, closer—) and he nearly sobbed in relief as you fell into his arms, clinging to each other as your souls finally, finally, melded together as one. Now and forevermore.

The questions could come later, but now... he had a promise to fulfill.

He was home.

notes: minami-senju train station is located in very close proximity (a two-minute walk) from what is left of the kozukappara execution grounds, where a temple now stands in its place. he’s made quite the journey to come full circle, hasn’t he?

#takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha oneshot #hawks x reader angst #mha oneshot #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #reincarnation au #from the typewriter #pocuties #cw death #tw death #cw blood #tw blood #cw war #tw war #if you'd like me to add a warning please let me know!

[dayseternal-blog]

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them.  “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams.  “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake​ inspired “White Lilies.  “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.”  The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum​ inspired the language in “That was the plan.”  “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh.  I do have quite a few pet peeves.  If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people.  Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book.  So that means no shoes in the house.  Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed.  Like, what?  she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen.  lol.  why.  how.  in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics.  But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it.  I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet.  I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.

#anon #*anon* #fic writer ask game #i will send these questions right back at you

[gone-daddy-gone]

Pairing: You x Kuroo

Rating: Mature.

DT: @letmeshouyou, inspo from her fic here @anxiouslywaitingforsomethinggood, art piece here

Word Count: 2,174

                                   Pierced

You had met Kuroo during the long one week of nine hour, every single day, training, prior to camp. You caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. The first thing that caught your eye wasn’t his crazy, almost lazy bed head hair. Wasn’t his beautiful brown eyes that were shaped precariously like cats eyes. No, those features were very obvious. Just not nearly as noticeable as the metal in his mouth. And not the metal that most kids his age had, laid like railroad tracks on their crooked teeth. It was the metal on his tongue. The wet muscle that lived in his damp cavern of a mouth. 

 Being in charge of over one hundred horny, irresponsible, and obnoxious teens to adults is just as fun as it sounds. You were the lead counselor of the Tokyo Titans, one of the most prestigious powerhouse camps in the country. You yourself used to be a very good volleyball player, taking the Karasuno girls team straight to nationals. Not only that, but you were the top of your college class and here on an internship. Completing the summer you were going to have three extra credits! You had no interest in the camp beyond that, sure you adored the kids! They were all amazing, funny, creative in their own ways. Still, your mission was to do your job diligently over the next three months. Quick get in, get out. 

 There was just one, six-one giant standing directly in your view of your success. And he goes by the name Kuroo Tetsuro. 

 You had met Kuroo during the long one week of nine hour, every single day, training, prior to camp. You caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. The first thing that caught your eye wasn’t his crazy, almost lazy bed head hair. Wasn’t his beautiful brown eyes that were shaped precariously like cats eyes. No, those features were very obvious. Just not nearly as noticeable as the metal in his mouth. And not the metal that most kids his age had, laid like railroad tracks on their crooked teeth. It was the metal on his tongue. The wet muscle that lived in his damp cavern of a mouth. 

 If you were being honest with yourself. You found him almost too enticingly attractive. Which is exactly while you forced yourself to pay as little attention to the giant as you possibly could. He on the other hand took one look at you and decided he would do the exact opposite. Every single time the counselors were told to pair up, he decided you would make the perfect partner.

 “Why you always trying to avoid me?” He said, furrowing his brows making him look a little more playful, a smirk being carefully placed. 

 “I don’t know what you mean Kuroo, I am a camp lead so I am… you know, busy” You said in a voice that established you were an adult and he was a child. Causing him to lick his lips, pushing his wet muscle into his gum and lip. 

 “Whatever you say, lead.” You couldn’t tell why, but the way he said lead just made your body irk with anger. That was just Kuroo Tetsuro for you though. Smug as he was sexy. 

 Kuroo seemed to find great pleasure in making a fool of the camp. Every time you turned your back on the sports camp he was in, he gave you another reason to tighten the leash. His excuse this time? He thought it would benefit the children to start a sword fight with pointed sticks, “like the samurai”. He cried, claiming to try and teach them something. Which, if you couldn’t already tell where this was going, was a bad idea. What grown adult in their right mind thought that was a good idea? The answer? No one. No one in camp thought his little stunt was cute and endearing. So as lead, of course you had to take the heat and apologize to all the parents for Kuroo’s indiscretions.

 “Yes, yes of course… no I understand. Thank you for being so considerate… uh huh of course! Right right.” You even had to call board directors to try and not get this clown fired. 

 Your generosity, as large as the net extends to the likes of Kuroo, some people. Mostly Kuroo. Thought this was your way of keeping a fling alive. A fling you absolutely did not have! He insisted that you looked at him like raw meat, going so far as to call you a pervert. 

 If his childish accusations weren’t enough, he filled the camp kids minds with lies. First he thought it would be best to tell the children that you two were married, every single little girl believed him and asked you for advice on their weddings. Now, this may seem like a miniscule act on his part, but Kuroo was one cunning bastard. He took the power by saying you were married, filling all the kids heads with fairy tales about true love. If you tell them the truth, that makes you the witch that killed love. 

 The only true time you got any distance from the man child was when the twelve hour long camp day was finally over with. When every kid had been signed out and every counselor vacated the building. During those few breaks from kids and misguided adults, you got to turn on music and vibe out. Letting go of all the stress and letting your body roll with the melody, getting lost in the symphony. That of course was how you were going to let your night play out, dancing and cleaning at the same time. You were so focused on your body feeling the music you hadn’t noticed that there was another presence in the room feeling you. 

 You flipped your hair and dropped your body super fast as you set boxes of legos in the lower cabinets. Before getting back up, you gave your booty a few pops before rising back up. Kuroo bit his lip, letting his tongue run over his bottom lip. He rolled his metallic ball around on his tongue, enjoying the show, waiting for an opportunity to strike. He let his eyes wander from your behind all the way up to your chest that was bouncing around with your body. He shook his head before shoving his fist in his mouth, effectively trying to silence his giddness. He sucked in his lip once more before looking down either side of the hallway. When he noticed that there wasn’t anyone on either side. With a cat-like stealth, he took a few steps into the room and shut the door closed. 

 You were far too absorbed in your cleaning and loud music to even conceive that he had entered the room. The current predicament you had gotten yourself in, was a jar that absolutely did not want to open. You were swaying your hips to the music, throwing in a few freestyle grunts trying to free the lid. Your efforts were not going unnoticed. With the same stealth he had when he first entered the room, he danced his way over ever so slowly to you. For a moment you two moved in sync. Unbeknownst to you of course. It made Kuroo want to laugh, you were so laid back when you weren’t being a total bitch. 

 Finally having enough of watching you, he slowly made his way to your neck. You had your eyes closed, letting yourself fully emerge into the groove of the song. As Kuroo let his wet muscle come out of his mouth, slowly making contact with your neck. If it wasn’t for the cool metal you felt that made goosebumps rise on your skin you would never have even noticed it. You jilted slightly before you felt those soft lips begin to massage skin in a suckling motion. And in a small moment of weakness a moan came out of you, your body acting before you could. Followed suit in your abstinent motions was your hips, they instantly pushed themselves back onto the male behind you. Wanting more than just a tongue. He let out his own moan while he gripped your hips with a grip that was gonna litter you in bruises. Your reaction to his movements made a whimper come out of you. You could already feel yourself get hot with need as you felt yourself rub your thighs together. That was when you realized you had no idea who was doing this to you. With abject horror you wiped your head around. To make matters worse you met eyes with him, and before you could protest he quickly moved on from your neck to your mouth. Another unwilling moan came out of you as you could feel him sucking your tongue like it was the last popsicle and only relief from heat in the ninety degree weather outside.

 Snapping out of it you went to push him off of you and compose yourself. But if there is one thing you had to give Kuroo Tetsuro, it was that the bastard was observant. He knew you wanted this, you knew you wanted this. So, not wanting the make out session to end he gripped your wrists in his hands. You whimpered again, a needy whimper that caused him to smirk into your embrace. You struggled a little more, letting him know you thought this was wrong. It was wrong. You couldn’t just be macking on any of the counselor's you were a lead. Seemingly on cue he let your mouth go so you could breath. It was a short lived break. Before you could even say anything he gripped your ass and brought you up. The fear of falling taking over you, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders for support.

 “So you do want it?’ Kuroo teased as he brought you to the unstable ping pong table.

 ‘Shut up and put me-mmH!” It was a lightning fast reaction on his part. He harsly grabbed at your hips, pulling your heat towards his needy crotch. He let himself rub on you, creating friction. Meanwhile he went to your collar bones and sucked, hard. A stark difference from his gentle sucking he did at first. The pleasure was too good, who could blame the guilty moan that escaped you. Without thinking you wrapped your legs around his waist. Begging him, to just get a little closer. And as fast as it started, it stopped. He let go of your now purple collarbone. You were slightly relieved, but now the puddle in your panties made it a little harder to celebrate. 

 “I want you to say it.” 

“What?”

 “I want you to tell me you want me, and I have free reign of your body.” He whispered that last one like it was a promise.

 “Are you kidding me?” Was all your stupefied mind could come up with.

 “Ever hear of consent?” He said, letting an almost bashful smile appear. Well, it certainly wasn’t smug or condescending. Which was a lot for Kuroo. 

 “What a gentleman, ok Kuroo.” You gave him a lustful glance, before licking your lips. “Do what you want.” That was all he needed. 

 He started off shoving you down so your back was all the way on to the table. Next he took his fingers and slowly undid your shorts, getting on his knees as he did so. After he let your shorts hit the ground, he pulled your panties off with his teeth while his eyes bore into yours. Then he pulled your undies off nice and sensual. He got a look at you. A tsunami of pride washing over him, eyeing your dribbling pussy. He ever so softly let his fingers wrap around either of your thighs before prying them nice and wide for him. Licking his lips once more, he went in. Lapping up the juices with his tongue. A small moan and buck of your hips up into his mouth came out of you. Earning you a moan from the man between your legs that erupted through your whole body. 

 After he was done teasing you, he began to run his tongue in and out in darting motions. This caused you to arch your back, but you were met with a harsh grip before being shoved right back down. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him, face in between your legs and lust rising up in those brown eyes. The metal in his mouth was now bumping and rubbing up onto your clit which made you scream out in pleasure as you tried to force yourself on his skillful tongue more. You were greeted with a harsher grip on you. Which just made your lust filled brain even more confused as your cunt pulsated and you whined from the pain. You felt his other hand leave your thighs, feeling them return but inside of you this time. He took two fingers and fucked them into you at an impossibly fast pace. While his long slider fingers hit you every spot it should, his tongue rolled over and over again on your clit. You called out his name as you came into mouth, toes curled and thighs pressed to either side of his head. You were tired now, coming down from the intense euphoria the only thing coming out of your mouth was panting. You opened your eyes to see him pulling off his shorts. 

 “Wha-” 

 “You think you’re just gonna cum and that’s it? Absolutely not. You better prepare yourself cause this is long from over.”

#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsuro x reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! x reader #hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq!! imagines #hq!! #hq!! fanfic #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #kuroo tetsuro headcanons #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsurou #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu!! oneshot

[meganshinsou-tm]

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter five: murderers are getting prettier every day

❧ genre:  tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima 

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: blood, violence, torture, screaming/yelling

❧ chapter song: Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day by Marilyn Manson

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

"Oh, so you're also art dealers?"

Shouto nodded, "Yes. Mostly me and Izuku here handle the big deals and trades, we've pretty much covered every inch of Japan now. Even a few states in America. It was my father's business before it was passed onto me. I've gathered this crew of artists throughout my years and asked each and every one of them to be a part of it with me. All of us have some sort of connection with each other, be it art or our upbringing."

You pursed your lips and nodded. It made sense you guessed, why not open a tattoo shop on the side to always have a steady flow of business. Your brow quirked when you realized that this also meant that all these men had to be filthy rich. Art dealers and the market for such items was a very lavish and expensive market, most pieces just started out at the millions. It being a shared business among them all, there was no doubt they each got some sort of commission, especially since Bakugou, Sero and Kirishima ran this tattoo shop while Shouto and Deku were on business trips.

"So, you're all kind of like this big art mafia huh?"

Izuku choked on his tea, causing you to whip your head in his direction and immediately locate some napkins from one of the counters before going back to sit by his side. You gently wiped his lips dry as you softly pat his back.

"Sorry, that was just uh – funny," Izuku replied with a cough.

You smirked and ruffled his green hair after handing over the napkins and crossed your leg to look at Shouto. He rose a brow towards you and walked from his spot on the wall and towards the rolling stool that sat by his tattoo chair. His foot kicked it your way and he followed it, you watched the angelic man lower and sit on the black cushion before you. Once Shouto's heterochromatic eyes looked up to meet yours, you felt your heart stop briefly from how powerful they were but you still managed a soft smile.

"I like to refer to us as a 'family'. We all watch after and take care of each other, everyone has their place and their role in this shop, even you."

You placed your hand to your chest, motioning to yourself and chuckled. 

"Me? I've only been here a month Shouto, I just run errands, clean, make appointments and bring some femininity to the place. I don't place works of art onto people's skin, adorn them with pretty metal and crystals, or have the balls to deal with the likes of the art trading market. I'm just – (Y/N)."

Deku chuckled next to you and grabbed your hand from your chest, holding it on his knee and squeezing it. You had literally just met the man maybe twenty minutes ago and you were showing affection like you've known each other for years. 

This shop was so strange to you sometimes, these beautifully tattooed men all just connected with you almost instantly and you with them. It felt like somehow you had some connection already to this shop but you didn't know how. 

A smile crossed your face as Deku brushed your skin with his thumb.

"Kacchan insisted that you work here (Y/N), Kacchan! He's not the easiest person to win over, at all."

A laugh left your lips and you clicked your tongue, "I think you mean that red-headed asshole down the hall isn't the easiest to win over. Kacchan was nothing."

Shouto and Deku looked at each other, both slightly confused. The Kirishima they knew wasn't what you'd call an 'asshole', he was rough sometimes but never did he meet a stranger that he couldn't befriend. From the looks of it earlier, Kiri actually seemed quiet taken with you as you healed him, only confusing Shouto even further. 

Maybe there is something Bakugou didn't mention that caused you to form such an opinion? 

The two-toned man brushed it out of his mind for now though, who liked each other or not wasn't the topic he was on.

"What Izuku means is that Bakugou doesn't just let people in within a flash, especially when it comes to this shop. When I'm away, you can say that Bakugou is in charge around here. He takes pride in this shop, in his friends. To tell you the truth, when Kirishima first brought up the idea of hiring someone for this position you have, Bakugou was the one 100% against it. He doesn't like just random people coming into our shop and becoming this very important part of it. So when he practically threatened to 'blow my fucking face off into oblivion and beyond' over you, a random girl, I found it odd."

(E/c) eyes blinked at Shouto, you were sort of dumbfounded right now and confused. Bakugou was shoving this job down your throat the moment he saw you, he went as far as to send two of his very own men to beg that you come back. If he was against it in the first place, why did he suddenly go all out for it when he met you?

"We like to say that Kacchan has like a sixth sense or a third eye," Deku finally spoke and broke your sea of thoughts. "He can sense these strange things, like when something good or bad is about to happen, or if someone he meets is of value or not, if that makes sense. Bottom line is, he saw something in you, something that told him that not only the shop needed you but we needed you."

You smirked and pinched Deku's freckled cheek as he took it upon himself to try and help you see things clearly. You sort of got it, but it still boggled your mind as to why? 

"Maybe it's my quirk, he did say that it would be perfect for this place," you thought while biting at your lip. 

You turned your head to look at Shouto when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, he looked at you with a subtle smile.

"You're a lot more than you think (Y/N). You help this shop run, you also help heal people, I've heard and I saw it with my own eyes. You are special and you are part of this 'art mafia', family, whatever you want to call it. That means every single one of us are watching out for you and have your back, so if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask or to talk with one of us."

Sighing, you looked from Shouto and back to Deku who gave you the cutest smile. You placed a hand on his cheek and pinched before letting him go. Looking to Shouto you smiled and placed your hand over his on your shoulder, squeezing it and nodding.

"Thank you Shouto and Deku. That really means a lot."

You and Shouto removed your hands and you sat there, a relieved breath leaving you as you looked around the studio. 

"So, do either of you tattoo?"

"Oh – Shouto here tattoos, I actually just help with the finances and stuff, all the paper work and numbers. I used to do your job when we were in town."

"I'm guessing you're a hard artist to get an appointment with then," you asked looking at Shouto.

He smiled and rose from his stool and walked over to the desk in the corner going to answer a text he received on his phone that sat on it, "Sometimes. I also just have my certain loyal customers and don't take many new ones. Why are you inquiring?"

Your shoulders shrugged and you hummed, you kind of were, maybe not right now but eventually you wanted to have something done by everyone in the shop, even by Bakugou. You wanted something to keep forever that reminded you of this wonderful little shop and these amazing men, life was very uncertain for you right now. You didn't exactly know whether you were staying or going.

"One day I'd love to! Actually, do either of you have your own tattoos? I haven't seen anything yet, but – you're also covered in clothes."

Deku chuckled and removed the hoodie he wore, revealing a loose over-sized grey shirt that hung from his body. On his forearm you immediately spotted a tattoo, it was of a green oni mask with a samurai helmet and swords crisscrossing behind it. You smiled at the color and looked to see that Deku's arms and hands were littered with scars. How you didn't see the ones on his hands before blew your mind, maybe because now you saw so many.

"Oh my god, Deku, what happened to you," you blurted out and grabbed his tattooed arm, fingers running over his scars gently.

The male had to take a second from the sudden contact of your skin to his so intimately. His free hand came up to tousle his hair and he forced down the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

"Oh uh – that's just from growing up and getting used to my quirk, among other things. I pushed myself and my limits too hard sometimes."

You pouted and counted scar after scar, you could tell he was only telling a fraction of the truth, some of the scars looked fresh probably by a few weeks. If he didn't want to delve into it though you didn't want to push it. 

He asked if you wanted to see his other tattoos and you nodded with a smile before letting go of his arm. Seconds later your eyes widened when his hands gathered the fabric of his loose shirt and started to pull it up his body. You really did try to look everywhere except his body but it was so difficult.

A sheepish chuckle came out of you as you brushed back a lock of hair, "I uh – don't have any cash on me right now Deku or else I'd make it rain. Like how are you so built?"

The male laughed as his shirt was removed from his body and bunched up on his forearms. Even if you called Deku a 'small' green bean, he was in actuality much bigger than you, in height and bulk. He was very muscular but a lean muscular, very attractive and handsome. Honestly you just wanted to stare all day and possibly touch him. Even more scars littered his chest, one very large scar started at his shoulder and went down to his elbow. 

Deku turned around and you gasped when he gave you his back. A beautiful and extremely detailed samurai warrior with sword in hand was inked into his skin, a Japanese temple was in the background and there was lots of shading to bring a dark and dreary tone to the piece. It looked as if someone took a poster and just plastered it on Deku's sculpted back, it was that perfect.

"I still think that's some of my best work," Shouto finally spoke for the first time during all of this.

Jaw dropping and looking back and forth from the tattoo to Shouto you pointed at the ink, "You did this? Are you serious?"

The man in question nodded and smirked, standing from the desk and ducking his cell into his pocket, Shouto walked over next to you and looked. 

"It definitely wasn't a one day thing, this piece took a few months to finish, you know to let everything breathe and heal properly and also between our business ventures."

Deku gasped when your cold fingers ran all over his back, tracing out the imagery and leaning close to really take it all in. His heart started to pound as you curiously felt on his skin, fingers feather-light. You 'oh'd' and 'ah'd' as Shouto explained the shading and lines and what spots were a bitch to do.

"Wow, it's really stunning Shouto, great job! Do you all just tattoo each other?"

Both men nodded and Deku put his shirt back on and turned around to face you and Shouto. 

"Shouto did the back piece, Kirishima did my forearm and Kirishima did Shouto's pieces."

Before you could even ask what Shouto had as his tattoo's or even become lucky enough to have him strip before you, the door to his studio slammed open and there stood Bakugou. His eyes scanned the room looking for something, stopping when they found you. For some reason you froze before smirking at him, gaining a cocky smile in return.

"I hope you aren't trading me in for these fucking extra's already princess, I haven't even had my fun with you yet," he commented while brushing past Deku and towards you.

Your hand flattened on the blonde's chest stopping him before you, his face still leaned close and you could smell his intoxicating sweet scent as you locked eyes with each other. 

"I haven't traded any one in for anything because I don't belong to any of you. And if you or anyone wants to 'have fun with me' then all you have to do is let me know a time and a place ... Kacchan!"

The growing smile on Bakugou's face quickly turned sour. 

"The fuck did you just call me," he asked with a husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled and walked your fingers up the blonde's chest and neck to his face as you repeated yourself and spaced out your syllables. 

"I. Said. Kacchan."

Deku let out a squeak making the blonde turn his face and glare thus giving you a window to hurry and escape your death with a scream. Your feet bolted for the door and around the corner to run down the hall, you heard small popping noises and a "die" following fast after you. Tears streamed from your face from how hard you laughed, looking back you stuck out your tongue and flipped Bakugou two middle fingers, only making him accelerate faster. When you turned your head back forward you gasped upon seeing Denki in the way and tried to stop but collided into him with a hard thud. He grunted but stood his ground and quirked a brow.

"Don't you fucking let her go Pikachu, keep her right there!"

Your eyes widened looking back at Bakugou and you tried to run but Denki grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, pulling your back into his chest, doing as Bakugou instructed.

"Denki you fucking traitor, I thought you loved me!"

A laugh came from the golden-haired man, "I do love you lil'mama, but I kind of love living more."

Whining, your eyes squeezed shut as Bakugou zeroed in on you, his boots literally squeaking as he came to a stop before you. He leaned forward real close to where his lips touched the shell of your ear, you physically shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath and let out a curse that made him chuckle.

"Got the balls to repeat that princess?"

You smirked and chuckled yourself before making a bold move and licking up the blondes cheek, "Did I fucking stutter, Kacchan?"

Behind you Denki was shaking with laughter, "Ooh!"

"Kaminari, hold her still," were the last words you heard before strong and merciless fingers were at your sides and under your arms violently tickling you.

Denki kept a strong grip on your arms and placed the front of his feet over yours to keep you from kicking. Cries and sheer laughter erupted from within you, Bakugou mentioned that all you had to do was beg and ask nicely for him to stop and he would. You were too prideful though and refused to bow down to him.

"Never you fucking pomeranian!

The torture ensued tenfold. Your abdomen contracted as you tried to hunch over and hide your body but neither of the boys let up.

"The longer you drag this out the longer you go without food!"

Your lips pouted between laughing and you tried to bat your lashes, "Katsu that's not fair, I'm starving and this moron almost killed me today!"

Bakugou smiled at the little nickname you spoke for him, it had his blood pumping even more and he wanted to hear it again. 

"Fine then, don't beg or ask nicely. Just same my name like that one more time and I'll stop."

Trying to catch your breath between squeals and giggles you smirked at the blonde before you and rolled your eyes. 

"Fine. Please Katsu," you whined with pouty lips.

The blonde stopped and snapped his fingers, making Denki release you. Off balance you almost fell to the floor but Bakugou helped and caught you, his massive hands grabbing the side of your shoulders and bringing you close to his chest, your hands balled up against your own and you smiled and panted looking at him. 

"What, does that float your boat?"

"That wasn't even my name but I’m turned on," Denki interrupted.

You snorted and Bakugou couldn't help to crack his own laugh at the idiot you each called your friend. Before Bakugou could even get a word out or try to snap back at you a voice caught your ear.

"What the hell is going on?"

You looked to see Kirishima walking into the kitchen from the hall and suddenly felt like you were caught doing something wrong. Bakugou smirked and quickly grabbed your hips before hoisting you up and over his shoulder, earning a yelp as you squirmed. His hand landed a firm smack on your ass for the second time that day. You growled and punched his own ass but failed from the lack of force behind your swing.

"We were just rounding everyone up to eat," Bakugou replied with a shit eating grin and turned to walk you into the front lobby area.

You were now facing Kiri as the blonde carried you away, a smile crossed your face and you waved at the red-head. Unlike earlier, he didn't smile back, only looked severely agitated and rolled his eyes. Your head hung low at this and you just went along with the ride.

After eating lunch together in the front of the shop, Kirishima's tattoo appointment arrived causing him to leave the small talk that was going on. Shouto's phone rang and he excused himself to his studio to take it, leaving you, Bakugou, Deku and Denki alone. You sat between Deku and Bakugou on the nice black couch crisscrossed, one knee bouncing and hitting Deku’s. You talked about random things to pass the time until one idea came into your head.

"Hey, Bakugou," you called out turning to the blonde next to you.

He quirked a brow while drinking from his water bottle and wiped his mouth when he was done. "Drop that shit."

"Hah?"

"The fucking name, just use my given one, it's shorter for you to say."

A smile crossed your face and you leaned over placing your head on Bakugou's arm. "Aww, okay Katsuki! Anyway, would you ever pierce me?"

"With fucking pleasure!"

Sitting back up straight you turned more to fully face him, "What would you suggest? I don't really want a cliché belly button piercing."

Bakugou turned his head to look at you, he focused mainly on your face. His hand came up and grabbed your chin, the pad of his thumb ran across your bottom lip and he smiled. 

"You have these really fucking nice lips, I wouldn't want to ruin them with any snake bites or some shit but a little Monroe right here," he poked at the skin on your upper lip, "would really bring more focus to them."

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your face side to side gently, "If you wanted another, I'd say a simple nose ring. Your face is too pretty to fuck up with anything more than that."

You smiled and grabbed Bakugou's wrist, brushing his skin with your thumb, "Aww Katsu, are you just trying to get into my pants?"

The blonde smirked and brushed your own skin, "Obviously – but I'm also not a liar, I wouldn't say mushy shit like that if I didn't mean it, so be grateful!"

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek and sat back again. The thought of either piercing intrigued you. The more time you spent at the shop the more you wanted another tattoo or piercing. You felt naked when all the guys were around you, covered heavily in ink of their own and you were just - plain.

As you thought more, Shouto happened to walk back in and he rubbed the side of his neck when everyone but you looked at him. He subtly brushed the tip of his nose with his thumb, causing the three men before him to look at each other. You finally looked around and to Shouto and smiled. Bakugou sighed and stood from the couch, stretching and cracking the bones in his neck. Deku stood up next and you looked between them both.

"What's up guys?"

A hand gripped your knee and you looked to see Bakugou leaning down and close with a smile. 

"We have to go handle some business really quick, I'll pierce you next time princess."

You couldn't even get a word out before Bakugou placed a quick peck to your cheek and walked away. A weird feeling came over you and you grabbed Deku's hand when he went to follow, he grunted as you stopped him and turned around.

"Uh – be careful okay? It's getting late and the weather gets worse, so drive safely."

The green-haired man smiled before leaning over and placing a kiss to your head, "We'll be fine (Y/N), no worries!"

It had been a good two hours since Shouto, Deku and Bakugou left. The shop was slow and quiet with only one artist in who was currently finishing up the client he had. To curb your boredom, you and Denki decided to watch some anime at the counter together. You learned that most of the boys for the majority were nerds just like you, especially Denki. The golden-haired man was definitely one of your closest friends now and the two of you literally did everything together.

"I'll go beyond the limit break! The universe is mine to take! I have no fear, AH! I think it's clear, AH! Let's take it up into high gear! Oh this is Dragon Ball Super, we got the skills to blow them all away," you and Denki screamed singed on your stools, punching the air and each other.

Around that time Kirishima's client had walked out and to the counter to pay for their tattoo, catching all your hype. Of course neither you nor Denki were ashamed and you proceeded to take the gentlemen's payment . After he was taken care of and left, you followed behind to close and lock the door and flip the open sign over to signal the shop was now closed. Your feet skipped back behind the counter to watch the show with Denki, a few minutes later Kirishima appeared running a hand through his red thick spiky locks.

"What the fuck are you two screaming about up here?"

"Just some Dragon Ball, wanna watch Kiri," you questioned with a smile.

He quirked a brow and shook his head. 

An excited knock on the door broke all of your attention, making you jump as you looked up to see Sero outside with a massive smile. You immediately yelled out his name with excitement and left your stool to go let him in. Red eyes watching in envy at your adoration for the black-haired man. 

When Sero entered you hugged each other close and kissed cheeks. With an arm draped over your shoulder the two of you walked back to the counter and you helped to brush off a few snow flakes from his coat.

"How has your day off been Sero," you asked with a smile.

"It was boring to say the least, got a few errands done and just chilled. How was your day beautiful?"

At that moment you and Denki zeroed in on each other, eyes squinting and jaws clenching. Your fingers flew up to point at each other and in unison you both replied. 

"He/She set the kitchen on fire!"

Thus ensued the fight between the two of you as he tried to pin the whole situation on you. Sero knew better though, he even mentioned how Denki was technically banned from using the toaster anyway because of his dangerous ways of cooking. This only infuriated you more and caused you to shake his shoulders and make him have whiplash all over again. 

Sero laughed his ass off as he watched and Kirishima also chuckled. It humored him to see you all worked up, eyes wild and nonsense spewing from your lips. He pictured you as a little puppy trying to show how big and bad they were, it was quite adorable.

Finally, Sero stepped in and pried away your hands that were now on Denki's throat. 

"Alright, alright, so I take it today has been a day huh? I heard that Shouto and Deku are back, you met them?"

"Tch, did she ever, she was practically suffocating poor Izuku with her tits," Denki replied.

You went to kick at him but he dodged and stuck a pierced tongue out at you, Sero contained you, holding your back to his chest in a hug.

"You're just jealous Denki because now that little green bean is going to get all my attention."

"You're damn right I'm jealous! Until he showed up back, I was the shop heart throb!"

Kirishima and Sero snorted with laughter and Sero placed his hands on your shoulders, one going to ruffle your hair, "I'm sorry bro, but I think she stole that title from you."

You smiled with pride and thanked Sero for the compliment.

Suddenly Denki fell to his knees and crawled until he was hugging yours and fake crying. 

"I defended your honor though, don't let some freckles and green hair make you forget about your first true love! I can share you!"

You rolled your eyes and ran a hand through the golden hair, gripping and pulling the groveling man's head back. "I could never forget you Denki, trust me!"

"So does that mean I get to suffocate in your perfect boobs too?"

Before you could even reply both Sero and Kirishima took it upon themselves to smack the shit out of Denki. 

"You're fucking gross sometimes man," Kirishima growled.

You couldn't help but chuckle as the two men gave Denki what he deserved, you honestly weren't really offended, it's just how Denki was but it was nice to have Kirishima stand up for you for once. 

Holding up your hands you called off your two guard dogs and helped Denki back up to his feet. He pouted and laid his head on your shoulder, making you awe and hug him.

"I'm sorry cutie, that was shitty of me to say."

A sweet giggle rung in his ear and you patted his back. "It's okay Denki, I could never stay mad at you. You do know you're pretty much friend-zoned though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I still want love too; these assholes aren't nice to me like you."

Sero and Kirishima groaned and threw their hands up while Denki started to gripe and whine, telling his sob story of being the shop bitch. You laughed and continued to coddle the man in your arms, listening to his fake cries while he hugged you back.

"You guys should be ashamed of yourself tearing down this man's pride and dignity, look at him, how could you be so mean to such a cute face," you cooed and took Denki's face in your hands squishing his cheeks.

"Tch, what little pride and dignity he had to start off with," Kirishima chuckled with Sero.

As the two continued to tease their friend, you continued to comfort him, trying to hide your own giggles. Denki was smiling and eating it up though, giving his two younger peers a middle finger. Finally all of you calmed down and you got around to asking why Sero even showed up so late.

"Well I was coming to pick up this fool, I also wanted to see if everyone wanted to come and hangout at our place tonight. We can get some pizza and drinks. Since you started working here, we haven't all really hung out much outside of work you know."

You smiled and nodded with excitement, "Oh that sounds fun, I'd love to!"

Sero grinned and nudged Kirishima, "You in too?"

The red-head rubbed the side of his neck and thought it over, his eyes met yours and he froze from you staring at him as if silently pleading that he agreed. He was groaning on the inside but he sighed and nodded.

"Sure, I gotta get my shit cleaned up first though, so one of you come help please," he requested, turning to walk back down the hall.

"I'll go help him," you chimed.

Denki and Sero nodded, "Okay then, I think we're gonna leave and go get the food and drinks. You can catch a ride to our place with him, if he tries to say anything about it just tell him to suck it up and call me if he really wants to be an ass about it."

After gifting each other kisses on the cheek and hugs, Denki and Sero left the shop and you locked the door behind them. Turning around and leaning against it you took a deep breath before walking off towards the hall and to Kirishima's studio. When you entered he was tossing out his used ink cups and looked up at you before looking away. You swallowed thickly and went to help him out by grabbing the disinfectant spray and spraying down his tattoo chair.

"Uh – the guys left to get a few things and said I could just catch a ride with you, you know since I decided to walk today," you softly spoke and gritted your teeth, body tensing up and waiting on some type of cold and harsh reply.

"That's fine little one."

"So, art dealers, that's what you fucking told her?"

Shouto nodded at Bakugou's question, removing the charred sweater from his body and tossed it into the large drum that sat next to a table full of blades and saws, even an electric one.

"That's all I could tell her, she's only been here a month Bakugou, give it some time before we really reveal who we truly are. I know you see something in her, but I still need to evaluate her myself before we tell her anything."

Bakugou rolled his eyes and examined the tools of torture on the table before him. Sobs and screams of pure agony mixed with the heavy music playing in the background making him smirk. He turned to see Deku grinning as he slowly peeled off the fingernails of the man bolted to a chair. Blood staining his grey over-sized shirt, small splatters dusted across his freckled face while he screamed with the man manically. Once Deku tore off the last nail he tossed it into a pile of the others and stood back to enjoy his handy-work.

"No one is going to hear you way out here you fucking animal, keep screaming, I bet I can scream louder," Deku challenged.

The blonde appeared next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm guessing that lead you two followed didn't turn up shit huh?"

Deku shook his head and scratched his temple with the bloody pliers in his hands, leg swinging out to kick the chair, making the victim in it cry out more.

"No, it was a bust. We tracked down this petty little gang for nearly a month only to find out they just sell dope on the side. They weren't exactly killers so we just dropped it. Now we're back where we started, I feel like we're never going to find the bastard that killed Yagi."

"We'll find them, we just need a break for now and time to gather new intel," Shouto spoke and walked up with a butchering saw propped on his shoulder.

He stood there with his other hand on his hip, the broken and bleeding man before him took in the tattoos that covered his arms and chest. 

It was all brushwork, like Japanese calligraphy that danced from Shouto's elbows and up his arms to his shoulders and chest. But on each side the brushwork morphed into different colored oni mask's once you looked at his pectorals. An elegant yet still intimidating white mask was inked on his right one, what looked like crystals of ice dripped from it. On the right, a fierce red one engulfed in a beautiful flame stared back at him. 

All three men looked terrifying and were terrifying. The blonde looked smug in his black tank that dipped low in the front to reveal grenades and roses among explosions. The green-haired male at first looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly but so far, he was the most sadistic of the three.

"W-Who are you, what do you want with me!"

Bakugou clicked his tongue and tilted his head. 

"We're the fuckers that are going to end your miserable life, the same way you ended those two young ladies who were just walking home from dinner. My pal Deku here is going to peel off your toe-nails next, then we'll start disassembling you finger by finger, toe by toe, limb by limb until your shitty body fills up this bin over here and we dispose of you properly. Anymore questions?"

#crimson ink #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakusquad #reader x everyone #bakusqaud #hitmen au #tattoo shop au #slow burn #enemies to lovers #graphic content #blood

[reyofgreenplaces]

REYLO FIC RECS PART V

In the year of our lords, Adam Driver and Rian Johnson, I am coming out with probably my longest and most comprehensive reylo fanfic rec list to date (about a hundred more under the break ;). Each fic has been read by yours truly, sorted into three parts as per usual under au's, in- universe, and completed. Each will be accompanied by the title, author(s), chapter count, and a short synopsis and notes. This fic list is only the start of a more ambitious project I'm working on that will further filter my fanfic lists to more specific types: long fanfics, genre fanfics (angsty, mystery, funny, fluffy, etc.), one-shots, and many more! So I hope you enjoy this one with many new additions and some familiar faces and keep an eye out for my new lists coming out soon!

(These are pretty much all explicit fics, cuz I’m a thirsty B)

In-Universe:

Forbidden: koderenn (24/?)

Canon Divergence/Senator Ben/Jedi Rey/Forbidden Relationship, very angsty

A balance of chaos: JaneofJakku (20/?)

Post TLJ/Enemies to Friends to lovers

Reset to Default: selunchen (17/28)

Canon Divergence/ Suspicious Prince Ben/ Angry Jedi Rey

The Tether: ClasseySpanks (30/40)

Post TLJ/Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Allegiance: Have_A_Biscuit (26/30)

Canon Divergence/King of Alderaan Ben/Jedi Rey

The Beauty of a Secret: caisha (15/?)

Canon Divergence/Jedi Ben & Rey/Heavy Smut/Heavy Angst

The Girl From Nowhere: SouthSideStory (6/?)

Post TLJ/Conflicted Rey/Big Asshole Ben/Heavy Angst

Footnotes: Camucia (20/22)

Post TLJ/Rey finds Ben’s bad poetry

The Bond that Ties Us: moontear (120/?)

Post TLJ/super long fic

Alternate Universe:

In Living Memory: SpaceWaffleHouseTM (30/32)

Immortal Ben & Rey/ Enemies to Friends to Lovers over centuries AU

Believe it or not: P_dunton (4/?)

Soulmate/Miscommunication/Heavy angst AU

Glory's Fray: avidvampirehunter (53/75)

Gladiator/servant AU

Ashfall: SpaceWaffleHouseTM (6/14)

Rival geologists/Forced together for science AU

Lie to me: ssalemghostss (18/?)

Rival Gang town AU, angsty

Mint to be: fettuccine_alfreylo (4/?)

Reylogan Sugar Daddy AU, very fluffy and sexy

Give me time: TheAfterglow (11/?)

Wedding singer AU

Her Killing Moon: Angelic_Hellraiser (21/23)

Vampire/werewolf war AU

Need a big God (big enough to fill you up): jedihbic, sapphiresunset, thumosren (8/?)

Sugar daddy AU

Where we left off: coffeeandcigarettesplease (8/10)

Young Rey has a crush on Ben, Ben goes off to war, comes back and feelings are felt.

Dear Mr. President: crossingwinter (2/15)

Soulmate/Political Life AU

Mating Systems, Reproductive Success, and Sexual Selection in Secretive Species: A Case Study of the Wild Ahch-to Omega: NewerConstellations (17/20)

ABO/Scientist Ben/Wild Omega Rey

The Witch in the Wood: HarpiaHarpyja, Inmyownidiom (13/18)

Knight Ben/ Witch Rey

What's Your Damage: Enterprisingly (5/22)

Dungeons & Dragons Roleplaying AU

Matchmaker, Matchmaker: meeda (8/10)

Matchmaker Rey/ Divorce Lawyer Ben AU

Queen of Alderaan: bunilicious (5/10)

Queen Rey/Usurper Ben AU

Fixer Upper: MyJediLife (3/?)

Southern single lady Rey/ House contractor Ben AU

Landscape with a blur of conquerors: diasterisms (63/65)

Post TLJ/arranged marriage AU

When these moon met the sun in the sky: RebelRebel (16/20)

Feudal Japan fantasy; childhood sweethearts/separated, emperor/samurai AU

Refuse Me: Autonomee (4/?)

ABO/ Private School/ Hidden Identity AU

A Spy’s Game: InfiniteBlackRose (30/?)

American Revolution/Opposite Sides AU

Dystopia: Cosmogonika (25/?)

Cyberpunk/Blade Runner AU

Find my nest of salt, everything’s my fault: Like_A_Dove (15/?)   

POV from Ben of We Could Plant a House

The Sun Never Sets: asfragileasasword (7/?)

Professor/Student AU

You Should See Me in Crown: 3todream3 (5/8)

ABO King Ben/Handmaiden Rey, angsty

Aegis (In This World or Any Other): Lucidlucy (15/30)

Hades/Persephone AU

Land’s End: Hagen (3/?)

Part Two for Salt in the Blood Series

Shift the Tide: AdriannaXVI (3/?)

Shapeshifter AU

Let’s Get Together: KyloTrashForever, ohwise1ne (4/8)

ABO/Camp Counselors AU

All the Money in the World: HerSistersKeeper (17/?)

Rich Bitch Rey/ Rich Bitch Disaster Ben

Say it With Sugar: fettuccine_alfreylo (18/20)

Chocolate shop/mental health and anxiety AU

Silver and Shade: midnightbluefox (6/?)

Soft Demon Ben/Investigator Rey

Genesis: Eris97 (8/?)

Zombie apocalypse/last people on earth AU

Redwood Specters: Ria84 (10/14)

Haunted mansion AU, fluffy and spooky

The Hand that Feeds: persimonne (9/?)

Ancient vampire Ben/Victorian historian Rey

I’ll be Seeing You: tomorrowthestars (22/?)

1940′s young Rey and Ben AU

The Good Fortune of the Skywalker Family: MissBliss12 (5/18)

Violent Meet Cute/Crazy family AU

The Moon Child: MotherofPorgs (6/?)

Werewolf/PNW AU

The Strange Case of Dr.Solo and Mr. Ren: fear_of_being_written, NewerConstellations (12/20)

Dr.Jekll and Mr. Hyde Au

The Layover: Hydra_bitch_please01 (18/?)

Flight Attendant Rey/Mystery Wealthy Man Ben

Completed:

Cupcake Wars: crossingwinter (8/8)

Rival Cupcake shops AU

Leave Nothing Unsaid: theselittlethings (1/1)

Post TLJ oneshot/secret tryst

You should see the things we do: Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo) (3/3)

Roommates/Enemies to Friends to Lovers AU

Sweet Rey: bunilicious (7/7)

Very soft warrior Ben/very sweet maid Rey historical AU

An Unexpected Vacation: tigbit (10/10)

ABO medical study AU

Demon’s Possession: DragonWhiskers (13/13)

Demon Ben/Sacrifice Rey AU

Higher Ground: KathKnight, Seraphprotocol (31/31)

Post TLJ/ Disaster Kylo Ren/Angry Rey

Delicate Matters: KyloTrashForever (5/5)

Shy Ben/ Awkward Meet Cute with Underwear, very fluffy

the surface of last scattering: diasterisms (2/2)

End of the World AU

A Poetic Match: commandercrouton (2/2)

Professor/student AU

Your Eyes (Are Holding Up the Sky): elemie89 (5/5)

Highschool athlete Ben/tutor Rey AU

Just A Sandwich: walkingsaladshooter (1/1)

Hook up with feelings AU 

The Lady and the Monster: 3todream3 (21/21)

Rival colleagues AU

the world shifts (and I am better here): lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora) (32/32)

fairytale/sleeping curse AU

Witch’s Moon: Dragonwhiskers (12/12)

Witch Rey/Witch Hunter Ben AU

Steal Away With Me: Erulisse17 (18/18)

Thief Rey/Investigator Ben AU

I Caught Fire: KyloTrashForever (9/9)

Emo Highschool students/Misunderstanding AU

welcome to my cage, little lover: KyloTrashForever (8/8)

ABO warlord Kylo Ren/servant Rey

I move the Stars for No One: SageMcMae (13/13)

Post TLJ/ Labyrinth-esque

fourth part whole: trailingviolets (2/2)

Cyborg Kylo/mechanic Rey AU

Salt in the Blood: Hagen (52/52)

Kelpy monster Kylo/village girl Rey historical AU

Dust to Dust: KyloTrashForever (10/10)

Victorian Priest Ben/ Lady Rey AU

The Trail Bride: SecretReyloTrash (BadOldWest) (46/46)

Oregon Trail AU, angsty

A Scandalous Match: Musickat18 (18/18)

Victorian arranged marriage AU

Satisfied: commandercrouton (11/11)

My best friends wedding AU

At the Stroke of Midnight: bunilicious (4/4)

Cinderella AU

They Don’t Have a Word for What We Are: andabatae (69/69)

Post TLJ/ mutual pining 

Wolf at the Door: Shadowlass (4/4)

Red Riding Hood AU

Imprints: KyloTrashForever (22/22)

ABO/ reuniting AU

Looking for Raid: Polkadotdotdot (16/16)

Gaming online friends/ office rivals AU

the shore, so far away: neonheartbeat (23/23)

Titanic AU

long way home (nonstop to takodana): the-reylo-void (Anysia) (2/2)

Reuniting after breakup AU

lay then the axe to the root: sciosophia (1/1)

Duke/governess AU

Parallel lines: nite0wl29 (22/22)

Teacher/student with horses AU

Rules of Engagement for Sinners and Saints: Black_Eyed_Suzannah_Q (21/21)

Western Homesteader Rey/Outlaw Kylo Ren AU

Sun, Sand, and Stone: Black_Eyed_Suzannah_Q (21/21)

Post-Apocalypse Mad Max AU

So long, my adversary: Like_A_Dove (3/3)

Snowed in coworkers who hate each other AU

Heather and Honey: Polkadotdotdot (9/9)

Corporate lawyer Ben/Irish Brewer Rey, fluffy AU

Don’t feed the bears: Ria84 (22/22)

Canadian mounties AU

Effloresce: lovelydarkanddeep (16/16)

Flowershop/tattoo parlor AU

Tattooed Heart: KyloTrashForever (16/16)

Destination Wedding/Bridesmaid/BestMan AU

 Songs of Innocence, Songs of Wisdom: Cosmogonika (36/36)

Post TLJ/fate 

Coming Home: inexorablydrawn (14/14)

Highschool reunion AU

Snow Sparkles Like Stars: raptorginger (9/9)

Stranded in snow/Christmas AU

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #reylo fanfic #reylo fic recs #reylo fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic recs #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adam driver #daisy ridley #the last jedi #tlj #the force awakens #the rise of skywalker #kylo ren #rey #ben solo

[weretigerkun]

Here’s a late post for Fic Writers’ Week Day Four: The Devil’s in the Details

I had already planned to annotate a history of me and you (Dazatsu Period AU) anyway, so here it is!

Selected lines are quoted and arranged according to their chronological appearance in the story. I suggest you read the Author’s Notes on the AO3 fic page itself, as I didn’t repeat some links anymore.

What’s under the read more? References to canon and future side-stories, a timeline of Period AU Atsushi’s life, info about the real Nakajima’s and Dazai’s lives, as well as historical background to explain several details in the fic. Okay? Read on~!

  The boy reads it carefully, attention fully captured by the words in front of him. A new character is introduced—it’s a young man whose kindness the protagonist tries to return for the first time.

A scene inspired by their first meeting in canon

Spring blooms, breeds flowers As I breed ink on these hands, Remember the shape Of your brightest smile, Your warmth in my cold embrace, Sunrise in your eyes Beautiful boy beside me For spring, summer, fall, winter— Let me taste your name.

One poem made out of three haikus (5-7-5). Except the third to the last line, because it wouldn’t fit in just five syllables. So have an outtake:

Beautiful bishie, you are my squishy.

Oh look, 5-5! lolol

“Oh no, that one’s private—for the eyes of mon amour only.”

The real Dazai Osamu enrolled in the French Literature department of the University of Tokyo but never attended any lectures. Several well-known contemporary Japanese writers also took up French Literature in their college years. I wonder why.

Instead, the man gives an awkward cough, eyes flitting away briefly. Atsushi yanks the collar of his yukata upwards, tightens it around him.

Dazai is shameless.

Once again, today I wake under frozen sky Trapped by memory But my lips warm with your name, Your body rising like the sun Like winter has passed

This time, I attempted a tanka (5-7-5-7-7) , albeit a modern and modified one.

He’s used to Western clothes, but this white suit feels too foreign, too expensive

Atsushi never buys his own clothes, so Dazai spoils him. To be expounded on in a future side-story.

“Ah, yes, I did hear rumors.”

“He’s doing very well under me.”

“Indeed he is.”

I can’t help slipping in fancy innuendo. This is how I roll, okay.

Also, about “He’s doing very well under me” (NSFW link)…

Kunikida grumbles, but a woman with short hair taps at his arm

It’s Yosano-sensei! She’ll appear in a future side-story.

…a new ballad oozing out of the nearby gramophone.

I wish I could link to an actual song from the 1930s here AHAHA (I really love big band jazz and swing tbh) but instead, I ended up listening to a bunch of 1930s Japanese music. They’re all… really interesting, to be honest.

The short-haired woman that had been with Kunikida laughs into her palm, listening in to the hushed words of the grinning man next to her.

Yosano laughing with Ranpo. He’ll appear in a future side-story too, along with Fukuzawa-shachou and the rest of the ADA. They all work together in the same publishing company, with Fukuzawa as the president and Kunikida as an editor. Tanizaki eventually interns here too after graduation (he’s Atsushi’s classmate).

He’s about to suggest getting a bite to eat when he turns and sees a gawking face in the corner—some middle-aged man in a Western vest, his hair slicked back. Atsushi swallows, hoping to shuffle away…

But then Oda Sakunosuke arrives next to him. He places a heavy hand on the other man’s arm, giving him a blank stare. The stranger looks at him, blinking, taking in murmured words as he’s led away. Oda’s grip is strong, quiet but firm, and so they make their way out of the room, almost as if nothing’s happened.

Oda Sakunosuke protecting his friends and his writer from seedy journalists. <3 Nobody’s writing anything hateful about these two lovers, not under his watch. (As proof: see “the very first article that mentions him publicly”)

One famous photograph of the young Nakajima depicts him in his home […]

Only he and Oda Sakunosuke were privy to some joke.

Wow, okay, I was supposed to write another scene to this BUT I LOST MY NOTES!! :((

By the 1930s, cameras were already smaller, lighter, easier to use, and cheaper. They had become available to the masses and were starting to gain some familiar features: an instant shutter, a timed shutter, as well as the start of color photography. Even folding cameras existed, which could fit into your pocket. I imagine Oda or Ango had one, and so they’d take lots of cute photos of Dazai and Atsushi (and their other friends) whenever they’d come around.

There’s a companion photo to the one published in the book. It was taken a few minutes before Atsushi’s portrait. It depicts Dazai and Atsushi seated side by side, with Dazai’s head on Atsushi’s shoulder, and the boy looking down at him with a bright smile. Very cute. Very sappy. Oda still has this photograph in his personal collection.

After hearing the click, Dazai had laughed and pulled away. “You should take one of Atsushi-kun instead, Odasaku,” he’d said. “He’s much more handsome.”

Atsushi batted him away, but Dazai only replied with something so charming and funny that Atsushi, caught off-guard, let out a wild laugh.

He tugs at Dazai’s sleeve, rubbing the fabric absentmindedly. Smooth and silky, dark against his skin. The edge of a crane’s wing embroidered on the side. “But at least… you like the present I picked out for you?”

Dazai’s kimono based on the Kyoto collaboration art. (1, 2)

I find this incredibly interesting, as the crane is a symbol of happiness and long life. I doubt Dazai would choose it himself (or if he did, imagine the irony), so I headcanon that Atsushi picked it out for him. That boy is so pure and loving <3

The sun rises.

But this time, there is no warmth or light. The sun rises on another day without Atsushi-kun by his side.

 No need to waste paper after all.

War effort.

Dazai pulls out a small, clean piece of paper from underneath a messy stack. In the process, he nudges the newspaper unfurled across the table, its headline notifying young men of required conscription.

Young men being drafted for the war effort wouldn’t be sudden news in 1941-1942, as Japan’s Conscription Law was already established in the Meiji Era 1873. This allowed men aged 20 to 40 to bear arms (any man, no longer just samurai) and required them to serve three years of active service, and then four years in reserve. Firstborn sons, students, teachers and widowed men with children were allowed to be exempted, aside from those who were physically unfit. Upper class citizens could probably pay their way out of conscription as well.

The real Dazai Osamu was excused due to his tuberculosis. I imagine this Period AU Dazai could pay his way out of Atsushi’s conscription as well, but Atsushi wouldn’t think it was right.

The real Nakajima Atsushi died in 1942 due to pneumonia. He was 33. I wanted Period AU Atsushi to die before he hit thirty (sorry, Atsushi-kun. I love you, I promise), so, um, here’s a potentially weird timeline of his life. Please keep your suspension of disbelief for a while!

1913: Period AU Nakajima Atsushi’s birth

1918: his first memory, being in the orphanage

1929-1931: his high school years. He discovers Tsushima’s works during this time (maybe a little earlier, maybe in his last year of junior high) and those works impact him greatly.

1932: Atsushi’s first year of university. Probably meets Dazai around this time, late in the year.

1936: Graduates university. Publishes his first short story.

1936-1940: His short literary career before having to fight on the front.

I was going to kill Ooba off in the latest chapter, but I know that as soon as you return you'd yell at me for it.

Ooba is the protagonist in Dazai’s novel No Longer Human.

He had stood here once. In the same city and under the same sky. I pull my coat closer around myself and begin walking, hoping to get home before the roads pile up with snow.

The narrator means Tsushima, and she’s not wrong, but in the tradition of bookends, he would refer to Atsushi.

.

(Making this post was really fun! I’ll probably make one for every major Period AU side-story too)

#ficwritersweek #bungou stray dogs #period au #fic extras #mine