keikaru

I have a lot of interests so here is a list of fandoms I write for or blog about.

(*) currently interested (bolded items are my fave media)

(-) no longer active/declining interest

Bleach*

Collar x Malice

Dungeon Meshi

D.Gray-Man

Eldarya -

Fate Series*

Fire Emblem series*

Genshin Impact

Heart no Kuni no Alice series*

Honkai: Star Rail*

Link Click

Madoka Magica

The Maze Runner -

Mystic Messenger

Naruto

Piofiore

Pirates in Love -

Pokémon

SK8 the Infinity

Stardew Valley

Twisted Wonderland*

A sound of beating hearts, a fluttering of unspoken feelings. You, who bloom so beautifully above the mire. You, whose heart I wish to hear beat forever.

Her eyes soften and become glassy. She doesn’t say anything, only staring up at him with aching tenderness. Longing. Wanting. What she wants, she fails to put it into words. But their interlocking hands speak volumes of what they are to each other.

“My heart” —Kiran says, all undone and without reticence— “has been yours from the start, Lord Líf. To me you are...”

You are the face of love.

There are oaths you do not need to say out loud but felt with a beating heart and mingling breath.

Their fleshly desire overflows from its chalice. Is it shameful to put that into words? How much he wants her, how much she needs him. The proximity between their bodies closes again and again. They exhale raspy, staccato breaths mired in pleasure and desperation. Líf hovers over her and kisses the length of her neck, the curve of her breasts. He returns to her neck and presses a ghost of a kiss onto her skin.

They lock eyes and it is not the first time that they have done this. Nor will it be the last.

Kiran assents and he marks her. Her fingers tangle into his hair and she trembles, docile and pliant under his mouth. He derives secret pleasure from the act—that she is his. Like a wolf and a lamb, you devour the thing you desire most just once. But not her—Kiran’s love is the hunger that consumes him.  

Devotion is a sword that never dulls. Love is a vow that does not end in death. And Líf will never let her go. He will slay leviathan after leviathan to bring her shadow back. She is not Eurydice and they will walk side-by-side, together, from one realm to the next.   

She is his light brighter, his summoner.

And should there be a day when the sky becomes sunless, Kiran is the only light he needs. 

His fingers curl around the strap of his bag, precious jewels clattering together in jeering applause. Under the diamond sky of Penacony, Aventurine exhales a shaky breath before standing up. The buildings spiral into the endless twilight to a staggering height. You cannot touch the sky in Penacony—how far does the ceiling of this dream reach?

Despite his blurry vision, a familiar figure in a swathe of deep blue and gold approaches.

“Ever the theatrical one.” The doctor’s voice penetrates through the haze of pain, sobering the gambler. “Is there a point of offering my shoulder if you’re going to bumble around like a drunkard?”

“Your courtesy won’t be needed, doctor,” Aventurine retorts sharply. Sweat beads across his brow but he plasters a grin across his face.

“You look unwell,” Dr. Ratio says again, this time, more flatly. Something flickers across his face, but Aventurine squints as his vision begins to focus. “On your last legs already?”

“You betrayed me,” Aventurine spits out. He narrows his eyes at Ratio, grin falling into a frown. “If our discussion is done, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait. What do you intend to do now?”

“Mmmh, who’s to say.” Aventurine weakly lifts the gift money bag in his hand and Ratio glances at it. The doctor leans over to examine the contents and a smooth line etches across his lips.

“You’re mad.”

Aventurine shrugs. “Seventeen system hours left to live does that to you. Now then. If we’re done…”

He sidesteps the doctor to pass him and eyes the people gathering in the plaza. Just then, Ratio holds out his hand to stop him. Aventurine sighs, irritation finally bubbling to the surface.  

“Take this. You’ll thank me later.” Ratio forcefully hands him a medical device. Aventurine clutches it, mystified. “Use it when you’re on your on your last legs.”

In the center of the group is Malleus Draconia, the fae-heir whose birthright lays claim to Briar Valley and whose presence inspires fear and humility. His eyes glow with unearthly flames and a frown, no matter how intense, could mar that beautiful face.

To employ magic for such trivial purposes—for fun, as the students claim—is reason enough to make Rollo set his jaw and narrow his eyes at their levity. Magic is a dangerous affair that should not be treated so lightly like fireworks. But what do these fools know when their first foray into magic is through an institution with safeguards? Magic, as its rawest and most unstable form, is not easy to control. 

Rollo speaks as perspiration beads at his brow. “Your overreliance on magic dulls your sense of safety. Just because you can control it doesn’t mean it’s safe—only that you know how to make it less dangerous.”

“And yet who is the bigger fool between us?” Azul snips back, pushing his glasses up with one hand. “The hypocrite who disparages magic but still uses it. Or the three house wardens who will stop your machinations with or without it?”

Idia throws his companion a pointed stare. “Can we just auto-skip the final boss dialogue and rush him?!” 

“A fine idea,” Malleus says, raising his hand at Rollo. But very subtly, he winces. In that moment of hesitation, Rollo conjures up another spell faster than Malleus’ incantation. 

Rollo grins wildly as his signature spell, Dark Fire, manifests before him with hungry, vitriolic flames. He directs the rage to the heir to Briar Valley and an orange, hateful fire bursts from his hand like a heat-seeking missile. 

As the comet of fire closes in on Malleus, Azul rushes forward.

“Azul?!” Malleus and Idia yell, in equal measure of shock and horror.

“Fools, the lot of you!” Rollo shouts, without thinking. He flexes his hand, feeling smoke and cinders radiate from his palm like a burn. 

Azul crumples onto the ground with a dull thud. As the smoke and steam disperses, remnants of water magic, a shoddy shield or some such, flickers in a dome around him before dissipating.

Rollo takes a step forward and a grim smile crescents across his face. He is not without pity—he allows the other two to glimpse at their fallen comrade. “One less obstacle to deal with. Now then—”

“Take that!”

“Huh?” Rollo glances at the wilted figure but it’s too late for the student council president to react. 

In less than a moment’s breath, a blaze the size of Rollo’s own hate thrashes him with a magnitude so great that he collapses to the ground. For a few long seconds, Rollo lays there, gazing up at the ceiling of the tower in a daze of confusion. His thoughts, murky with pain and disbelief, renders him silent and incredulous.

“Bwah?!” Idia shouts. “What was that? Did you say that was Deuce’s spell? You mean—”

“Yes” —Azul winces as he picks himself from the floor and dusts off his clothes— “I suspected that his signature spell would be our final gambit. I’m pleased that it worked out so well.”

“Well done, Ashengrotto. I am thoroughly impressed by your cunning.” 

Rollo doesn’t understand what Azul hit him with, but traces of that flame strongly resemble his own. Fighting fire with fire, I see. How lamentable this situation has become.

His head throbs while his heart pounds furiously inside his chest. Stand, you fool. Why won’t you move? How unseemly this entire act is. And those wretched fiends continue to prattle as if I’m not here…

Rollo seethes in silence at their impudence but bides his time. As he grits his teeth, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth gives him enough clarity to stagger back onto his feet.

“How many HP bars does this guy have?!” 

“Flamme, comport yourself,” Malleus warns. “Dawn must have broken through the clouds covering your eyes. Do you understand now?” 

“I…understand,” Rollo murmurs slowly, clutching his arm. “That even if fire burns, so does it illuminate. Then ring the bell, Malleus…and see to it that this city will be saved.”

-----------------------------

“Then take me on as a sacrifice for the karasu-tengu.”

There is a legend that Lord Rivu, a crow tengu, presides over Suzu Village. However, ravaging storms and winds lay waste to the crops year after year, and the villagers are desperate for succor. To appease the wrathful deity, the villagers offer bridal candidates to the crow tengu in exchange for a quiet, bountiful season.

Now, it is Yana’s turn to become the next sacrifice. She counts down the days by tending to Lord Rivu’s shrine and learning how to be a quality bride. To her horror, Lord Rivu sends down his personal servant, Rinsho, to keep watch over her.