#At the same time Kasa and I have been in some heavy talks about things and a lot of this applies to HER blogs as well as mine

[sakurarisen]

Jumping on replies and playing catch up in a few now that I finally feel better, but some notes and updates! <3

On talking it out with @honorisen, we’ve decided on a fair few things - This includes finally ironing out a more solid, detailed, and updated timeline, for both Sera and Zack’s canons that’ll find its way onto my carrd after Kasa gets a chance to play CCR and we have time between her busy schedule to get that written out in full. This timeline will also extend to my other blogs as well, and apply to Cody and Lia ( @bountyrisen ), Kunsel ( @shinrarisen​ ), Shayan ( @legacydriven​ ) and Cissnei and Shiva ( @wingrisen ), making it something cross-referenced between blogs - Both mine and hers. These changes will be canonical for both our blogs.

This also means no further waffling; if a thread is set in Remake verse, Sera and Zack are married unless otherwise plotted out, and if set in CC, they’re already dating by the time of the Ft. Tamblin attack. OG7 is the only verse in which their relationship is in the air due to Zack’s disappearance.

Sera’s family has been expanded! Thoma ( @yoroiis​ ) is Sera’s eldest brother, and will be referred to as such in any verse where Sera is married, or in Spellbound and Genshin Impact verses. Prior to this point, she’ll regard him as her cousin, which is what she was raised to believe he is - More info is available in Sera’s Carrd!

On this same note, I do have a Genshin verse also available for Sera! There’s a bit of a timeline that will also be available for this verse, and a specific ‘GI Misc’ section is available on the carrd. I’ll be a little more picky with this verse due to only being about halfway through current content at the time of writing this; I refuse to make anyone stop to explain basic canon to me if I can read up on, play through, or study it on my own!

The YGO Misc section has been updated to reflect change made with the rewritten verse.

I’ve also added a misc section for another AU in Sera’s (And Zack’s!) Experiment AU, to hopefully help explain what’s going on in there better. All misc sections are considered forever under construction and can and will be added to as things develop and change.

Timelines will be available hopefully before New Year’s, but I’ll update this post when they are! <3

Relationships pages have gotten a mini boost/update with GI getting one for itself, with bonds made in off-dash threads in place.

Things are still a bit under construction given the holidays putting a bit of a wrench in time and schedules being overly busy as all get out, so there’ll be an update to this update on anther day - But for now, this covers what’s already been completed (and in the works, for both Kasa and myself) and means I can go jump into replies and sorting things out on that front! <3

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas, everyone! <3333

~Pom

[erabundus]

@drolliic &&. said... Their conversation drifts off into a pleasant silence once Aether's laugh gets carried far away by the gentle breeze. It's nice and comfortable, only lasting for a few minutes however. And when he opens his mouth again, golden eyes refuse to take companion in even vaguely, choosing to settle on something else in the opposite direction. "hey  …  can i ask you something ?" something that he obviously isn't sure he even wants to talk about, but there are already few those he has actually come to trust "Do you think even unending things have an eventual end? Maybe not literally, but..." something can hurt for so long before the ache grows dull, longing can go on for so long before reality sinks in, eternal lifespans still have a chance to come to an abrupt end. Things can happen for so long before something snaps and that's it. ( He can feel himself growing weary and jaded. )

he  can  feel  the  atmosphere  SHIFT  the  moment  aether  opens  his  mouth  again.  it's  such  a  simple  question  —  yet  reluctance  all  but  drips  from  EVERY  SYLLABLE.  the  wanderer  hums  in  faint  acknowledgement,  but  doesn't  speak.  he  was  quite  enjoying  the  silence  before;  he  would  have  no  complaints  were  it  to  return.  however,  he  has  a  sneaking  suspicion  whatever  weighs  on  his  companion's  mind  is  heavy  enough  that  he  has  no  choice  but  to  release  it  or  risk  being  crushed underneath.

❝  ...  ❞  it's  ironic,  because  ren  is  usually  the  one  delving  into  existential  territory  —  oft  to  the  point  of  causing  himself  undue  misery  over  problems  he  cannot  hope  to  solve.  eternity  is  such  an  ugly  concept,  particularly  when  viewed  from  the  lens  of  an  unfortunate  soul  burdened  with  it.  at  the  same  time,  change  is  equally  miserable.  pain  may  dull  with  the  natural  decay  of  so  many  years,  decades,  centuries  —  but  so  too  will  the  joy  that  stems  from  what  one  holds  dear.  he  is  meant  to  be  impervious  to  erosion,  yet  consciousness  is  inherently  ever  evolving.  he  wonders  if there will be a time  where  he  can  no  longer  stomach  the  taste  of  tea.  when  forging  weapons  loses  all  appeal.  when  the  fire  that  burns  within  him,  hungry  for  REVENGE  (  hungry  for  the  dead  to  receive  their  pound  of  flesh  )  will  fizzle  to  pathetic  cinder.  it's  a  bit  SICKENING  to  think  about,  that  the  day  may  come  when  he  is  no  longer  himself  —  forever  imprisoned  in  this  undying  body,  yet  haunted  by  a  consciousness  so  tragically  MALLEABLE.  he  wonders  if  aether  ever  feels similarly.

❝  maybe,  ❞   he  says  aloud,   ❝  in  one  form  or  another.  if  something gradually  changes  until  it's  no  longer  RECOGNIZABLE,  it's  difficult  to  call  it  the  same.  ❞  and  similar  to  his  companion,  there  is  reluctance  causing  every  word  to  drag  —  it's  not  a  thought  the  wanderer  is  especially  thrilled  to  voice,  but  he  is  brutally  honest  as  always. expecting him to handle the ugly truth could be construed as a sign of RESPECT, even.  ❝  there  are  some  things  in  this  world  that  can't  last  forever.  i've  been  told  that  impermanence  is  what  gives  them  their  value.  ❞   listening  to  a  song  for  the  very  first  time.  drinks  heated  to  just  the  right  temperature.  mortal  lives.  ❝  ...  but  i  also  can  understand  why  someone  would  cling  to  something  truly  precious  to  them ...  in  the  end,  i  think  it's  less  painful  not  to  let  yourself  care  about  anything  at  all.  ❞

exhaling  a  sigh,  he  tips  his  head  back  —  fingers  tracing  the  edge  of  his  kasa  as  he  glares  BITTERLY  at  the  sky.   ❝  ...  if  only  it  were  that  easy.  ❞

MORBID CURIOSITY

[bnhayyy]

The Call (1)

Chapter Title: Slayer

Wordcount: 4.1k

Ao3 Link: Click

Notes: Written for day one of @aot-au-week , since a Buffy AU very technically counts as a College AU, and because it's the least I owe @cookietonwrites for convincing them to take on another fic. As you can see, the idea quickly spiraled into a multi-chap, for which I am not even remotely apologetic.

Summary: There is only ever one slayer at a time; the chosen one, a girl strong enough to fight against the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness.

 Mikasa has accepted that for her, being the slayer means living a reclusive life, haunted by the image of the first person she failed to save and unable to ever truly let anyone in. However, everything is called into question with the arrival of Annie, a girl who claims to also be a slayer. Mikasa's life becomes much less solitary seemingly overnight, but friendship is followed by a deadly conspiracy, and with it, the threat of loss and heartache.

Mikasa's world consisted of a haze of blurred vision and the gentle buzzing in her ears. She blinked, and the figures on the paper before her solidified into numbers for a heartbeat before fading out once again. Trying it a few more times didn't yield any better results. It only made her aware of how much her eyes burned and how heavy her eyelids were. How heavy her entire head was. How easy it would be to just slip forward and… 

The buzzing reached a crescendo. A hand reached out to grab her shoulder. She jerked back upright to find Armin sitting across the table from her, one hand still extended and a worried expression on his face. 

Mikasa faltered. Words played at her lips, semi-contradictory things like 'it's fine' and 'what's wrong', but none of them felt right enough to actually be voiced. Instead, Armin was the one to break the silence. 

"When's the last time you slept?" he asked. 

Mikasa sighed. He must be really worried if he was cutting straight to the point like that. 

"Don't worry about it," she said, even though she knew it wouldn't work. 

Armin's frown deepened as a hint of disapproval trickled onto his features. He pitched his voice into a whisper to say, "you don't need to go out every night. You can't- you shouldn't be doing this alone."

"I do," Mikasa countered. "I'm the only one who can. You know that, Armin."

There was one girl in the whole world charged with keeping the forces of darkness at bay. She couldn't cast that duty aside just because she was tired.

It was with that thought that she realized that her gaze had begun to drift back toward the table. She snapped it back up as Armin asked, "does Erwin know how thin you're wearing yourself?" 

Mikasa pursed her lips. "Erwin's only been here for a few weeks. He'll get used to it."

"You shouldn't be used to it," Armin insisted, the softness of his voice warring with the rapidly mounting undercurrent of anxiety. He was still talking, too, about how Erwin wouldn't approve and she would be more productive if she wasn't dead on her feet. She didn't absorb any of the actual words, his voice fading back out into that gentle, incoherent buzzing.

Then there was a flicker of movement as something faded into sight in the corner of her vision, and everything Armin said became utterly doomed to sail right over her head.

Mikasa very determinedly did not look at the figure. She didn't turn her head and didn't allow her eyes to move in his direction beyond that first involuntary twitch. It didn't matter. He leaned forward, and she caught a glimpse of the green eyes peering out from what she knew would be a placid-yet-piercing expression.

"He's right, Mikasa," he said. "You need to take better care of yourself."

She allowed her eyes to flicker shut even though it did nothing to block out the man's voice. The voice of her own imagination.

"You've always been like this," he sighed. His voice had a whisper of warmth in it today, a touch of fondness tucked within what sounded like age-old resignation. "But you shouldn't. You're at your best when you have our friends with you."

Something flickered within her at the comment, although she was pleased to note that she managed to keep it within. There was no need to remind the hallucination that she didn't have any friends. Not even Armin, truly. Because for all that they were fond of each other, no amount of fondness could ever make up for-

"-kasa?"

It was the hint of iron intertwining itself with the worry in Armin's voice that got her to open her eyes. Mikasa forced herself to look at Armin and only Armin, who was leaning halfway across the table at this point.

"You really need to get some rest," he said. She moved to open her mouth, but he cut her off by asking, "you don't have trigonometry for five more hours, right?"

Mikasa nodded.

Armin gave one short, decisive nod, which appeared to be more for himself than anything. "You should take a nap, then."

The shift in her expression was subtle, just a faint downward turn to her lips, but apparently still enough for him to catch, because he quickly added, "you're going on patrolling again tonight, aren't you? Even a couple of hours would be better than nothing. I promised to meet up with Annie in a little while, but. I could walk you home?"

Mikasa didn't bother asking who Annie was, but she didn't protest either. She could see the logic in his argument, even if it felt painfully like a waste of time. "No, it's alright," she said. "I can walk myself."

Armin frowned. "Okay, but you will-"

"Go home and take a nap. Yes." She was already standing up as she finished agreeing. If she was going to keep her word, then it would be better to get it done sooner than later. The earlier she left, the sooner she could return. "I'll see you tomorrow," she promised.

With that, she turned around and left without taking another look at the boy who maybe, in another world, could have been her friend.

Or the distorted memory of Eren Jaeger.

*

Mikasa laid in her bed and closed her eyes.

*

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Cl-"

Coughing. Choking, sputtering, straining, a strain in her chest that turned into an ache resonating throughout her entire body. A pain worse than anything she had ever felt in her fourteen years.

Shouting. Rushing. Urgent voices talking rapidly. Not to her, with her aching body and spinning vision, but to each other. White coats and flashing lights. They were talking, talking, and there was something she had to say, something more important than the flashing lights or the unreal pain or the whisper of strength that shouldn't be there. There was something, someone, she had to ask about-

Her voice cut off in a hoarse croak when she tried to speak. Her throat stung, like it had been worn ragged by- by-

Salt.

Memories flashed by her in a dreadful kaleidoscope. The parents. The men. The boy. The other man, the one they'd thought would help. The sea - he'd thrown them in the sea, her and-

A jolt of energy. Mikasa forced herself upright and grabbed the wrist of the first person she saw. Surprise was on his face. Surprise and discomfort; her grip was stronger than it should have been. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was-

"Eren," she croaked.

"Eren." The white-coated man's voice was softer than she needed it to be. Focused on her. He needed to be focused on not her. "Is that your name? Eren?"

Through parched lips and a throat like sandpaper, she croaked out, "where's Eren?"

The man gave her a long, sad look. No. No. He shouldn't be looking at her like that.

"He saved me," Mikasa pressed. "Then he- the-" monster “- we went in the water together."

One faltering moment that lasted for an eternity.

The man redirected with talk about her. What's her name, can she describe what she's feeling, she's okay, it'll all be okay - it didn't matter. It didn't matter and it wouldn't be okay. It didn't matter, because in that moment, he didn't need to answer.

His expression spoke only of death.

*

She woke up feeling more awake, but just as tired as she had been before.

*

Mikasa didn't even try to pay attention during trigonometry. The nap may have refreshed her to some degree, but not enough for that. Besides, she still had a solid C. Spending class zoned out was... admittedly detrimental, considering that she had been in a similar state for her last two classes, but not so devastating that she wouldn't be able to recover from it. She would just have to cram as hard as she could once she had the opportunity to spend a few nights on her classwork. It wasn't a pleasant routine, but it had gotten her through her first two semesters of college. She could make it work for this one as well.

Besides, she had more important things to spend her brainpower on.

A girl had been marked absent during roll call. Mina Carolina. A single absence was not unusual in and of itself, but although Mikasa couldn't claim to know Mina well, she had not seen the girl take a day off before. That didn't mean that she couldn't - she could be well and truly sick, or an emergency could have popped up. People took days off all the time, even those who normally didn't.

The trouble was that there had been a marked increase in people turning up absent lately. Most of them never returned. There were no bodies found or hints as to their whereabouts. They were simply never seen again.

Mikasa didn't want to feel a sense of distant mourning. She wanted to hope that Mina would show up at their next class with some excuse for the teacher about how she can sick or had to deal with an unignorable situation. However, that same part of her had also wanted to hold out hope for Franz and Hannah when they disappeared from her American Literature class, and now they were nothing but faces on missing posters.

The semester had only been in swing for a month and a half. Mina would be the third victim person she had shared a class with. Not third overall - just that she had shared a class with specifically. When she scaled the radius up to encompass the entire campus, she would be the fifth disappearance.

According to Erwin, Paradis' level of supernatural activity was on the low side of average. She suspected that that was the reason he had been hinting that they should relocate. He felt that she was wasted here, and as her Watcher, he wasn't comfortable doing nothing about it, no matter how new to his position or unwelcome he was. And truthfully, five people disappearing off of a college campus during the first semester and a half wasn't unusual. College was stressful. She didn't know the details regarding two of the disappearances, and even with the couple who had seemingly disappeared off the face of the like, a human culprit was just as likely as a demonic one, if not moreso.

So why was she so certain that Mina Carolina had met her death at some point since she had last seen her?

Why did she feel like she had failed to stop it?

Once the feelings of dread and guilt grew strong enough for her to be actively aware of them, Mikasa decided to redirect her attention to the students who were there. 

Armin probably would have been one of her classmates if she hadn't insisted that he not take any classes that run past sunset and directed him to the morning trigonometry course instead. However, it wouldn't have been a large class even with him and Mina. 

Four of the students scattered across the room were unknown to Mikasa. However, her seat near the back of the room allowed her to keep an eye on them with relative ease. That, in turn, allowed her to be fairly comfortable in her assessment that they were normal human students. 

She could say the same of her four other classmates as well. They, however, were a little higher on her radar. 

Closest to her, his desk seated directly in the last few rays of evening sunlight, was a muscular blond man. Mikasa thought that his name began with an 'R', but didn't know much else about him. He'd caught her attention with a loud, outgoing personality and general demeanor that made him seem like an odd fit for the class. At the moment, it looked like he wasn't paying much more attention than Mikasa herself, fiddling with the ring on his left hand and only occasionally glancing up at the teacher. 

The blonde next to him was as much of a stranger, but she at least looked like she was focusing. She had gained Mikasa's attention by joining a week after classes had started. Since then, however, she had proven quiet and distant, only interacting with her classmates when she glared at the man next to her for trying to talk to her while she was working.    

Jean Kirstein, meanwhile, clearly didn't want to be a stranger. Over the past year, he had made a few attempts to reach out that she could admit were enduring. If she didn't have her duty, he might be someone she could consider a friend. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to do anything but brush him off, for his own sake. He didn't pay her much attention in class though. That wasn’t to say that he was completely focused, even though he had claimed a seat at the front of the class. She often glimpsed him speaking to the student next to him. There’d also been enough instances when she’d heard a frustrated comment from him regarding the course for her to get the sense that trigonometry wasn't particularly easy for him. However, she also suspected that he was hardworking and dedicated enough to make up for it.

The student next to him was Marco Bott. Cheerful and painfully earnest, he was honestly mostly notable to Mikasa because he was Jean's friend. He seemed like a good person though. That meant he was a reminder of why Mikasa couldn't let Jean become her friend no matter how hard he tried or let herself rest no matter how much Armin tried to insist. If she faltered, if she slowed, there would be consequences.

Mina used to sit behind Jean and Marco.

The sound of chairs being pushed back and writing implements being put away drew Mikasa out of her stupor. Rather than look at the clock, she glanced out the window.

The sun had already begun to set.

She quickly stuffed her textbook, pencil case, and notebook in her bag, feeling only a brief pang of guilt for the blank sheet of paper that stared back at her. The items landed haphazardly, and she knew that if she looked, they would likely only partly obscure the stake, crossbow, and knife that laid carefully arranged at the bottom. She zipped it shut before anyone could get curious and try to sneak a peek; a reflex even though she knew that no one would be bold enough to try that with her.

Despite being the last one to start getting packed, she was the first one out of class. Just like she always was. From there, it didn’t take long to get off the campus.

The first two blocks of Mikasa's walk went like she was heading home. It was as she reached the third - the one that would have lead back to her apartment - that she took a sharp right. From there it was four blocks straight on, then one block to the left. A simple route, but one that had come to haunt her nightmares.

Dusk had descended on the cemetery by the time she reached it.

Logically, she knew that she wasn't likely to run into anything for several more hours.

Instinctively, she knew that Mina Carolina wasn't likely to return to class.

This wasn't a night to take risks.

Mikasa wandered deeper into the graveyard, where she was less likely to be spotted by any passerby, and pulled out her stake. There, she began to wander.

It wasn't a small cemetery by any means. That was what made it the ideal hive for demonic activity. Not only were cemeteries where the majority of newly turned vampires rose, but large ones were also rife with additional dead bodies and crypts. This one was even separated into several different sections, which made it easy to get lost.

Getting lost made it easy to watch the time slip by.

A couple of hours into her patrol, a familiar figure flickered into existence at the edges of her vision. She didn't say anything to him, and he followed her silently, gaze occasionally flickering to one side or another as he took in the graveyard. As if he might notice anything before she did. Technically speaking, she supposed that he might. He had "caught" things a few times in the past, when she was subconsciously aware of something but hadn't been fast enough to process it with her conscious mind. It was the only thing that made sense, for all that she desperately wished that it wasn't.

A slayer whose hallucination needed to point things out for her couldn't mean anything good for the world.

She forced herself to look away from the figment and focus on her surroundings.

Not five minutes later, the sound of shifting earth caught her attention. Mikasa turned and strode toward it, her grip on her stake tightening and her gaze fixed straight ahead. Within seconds, she had spotted it; a grave with the earth beneath it stirring. As she watched, a hand punched up and out of it, grasping desperately at the ground. The head came next - an unfamiliar man, his face distorted by lumps across his forehead and nose, slitted yellow eyes, and fangs. The visage of a vampire prepared for predation. It glared at her as it struggled and snarled, eventually freeing its other arm. Once that was done, it had a much easier time dragging itself to the surface.

It never got the chance to free itself fully. The second its chest was completely exposed, Mikasa sprang into action. She grabbed the thing by the lapels of its dirt-stained tuxedo and dragged it upward. Fear flicked across its face, causing the predatory features to fall away and leaving a normal face behind. A face that could have been human if she didn't know better. She didn't allow herself to look closely.

In a blink, she had rammed her stake through the vampire's chest and into its heart. It dissolved into dust a few seconds later. Mikasa stood and watched the flecks flutter back down to earth.

She was drawn out of her reverie by a firm, "you shouldn't be patrolling tonight."

Mikasa grit her jaw. "I already rested," she pointed out.

"It isn't enough. You've been exhausting yourself, one little nap isn't going to make up for that."

"You just saw me kill a vampire."

"Yeah, and it took way more out of you than it normally would."

Mikasa whirled around to face the figment. Something in her chest threatened to hitch as she allowed herself to look directly at him, just as it so often did, even years after he first manifested.

The thing before her almost could have been a ghost. It wasn't though; god knew she had done enough research on the subject. Ghosts, when they visibly manifested at all, took the appearance they wore at their time of death or at another point in their life.

Eren Jaeger had been fourteen when he died. Even if he responded to the same name, this grown man with distant, unreadable eyes couldn't be him.

He wasn't anything. She'd run all of the tests as she learned more about the Supernatural. She wasn't haunted, there weren't hints of a demonic presence lingering around her - there was nowhere he could have come from other than her own mind.

He was nothing but a manifestation of her guilty conscience. She had come to terms with that years ago, yet she was still wasting time arguing with him.

At that instant, it was suddenly very tempting to look away. However, she forced her gaze to remain steady as she coldly said, "leave."

The figment blinked. "Mikasa-"

"No," she interrupted.

Something flickered in the illusion's eyes. It was difficult to identify, caught behind that distorting wall that so often covered his emotions, and she didn't even bother to try. He opened his mouth again, but she didn't let him get another word in.

"I'm not willing to put up with you tonight," she said. "Get out."

His expression finally came together into something real and visible. Alarm. "Mikasa, move!"

Mikasa lunged to the side just in time to avoid being grabbed by the shoulder.

She spun around to find a burly vampire standing over the ashes of the one she'd just killed. He was musclebound and bulky enough that he might be somewhat difficult to face in hand-to-hand combat - but not so much as to stand a real chance against her. "Slayer," he snarled. "I am going to grind you into dust."

Mikasa didn't bother responding. He lunged forward and she spun to the side, ducking beneath his flailing fist to get behind him. As she moved, she noticed that Eren had disappeared. Good. She sprang forward, stake in hand, only for the vampire to swing back around at the last moment and grab her wrist. He squeezed, a horrible grin on his face, and she had to fight to keep from automatically releasing her grip on her stake.

As the vampire leaned forward, she twisted to punch him in the sternum with her free hand. It only made him falter for a moment, but it was enough for her to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. It was also enough for her to come to a terrible realization.

Her blows weren't as hard as they usually were and she was moving slowly.

Eren was right.

There wasn't any time to ruminate on that. The vampire lunged forward, and Mikasa dove to the side again. She leaned into the momentum and swung her leg out to land a kick to the vampire’s side. He stumbled, a curse on his lips.

It didn't bring her any sense of victory, for as she brought her foot down, it landed on uneven ground. Not observant enough.

Pain shot up her ankle and the world began to tilt.

Eren still wasn't anywhere to be seen. Funny. If her mind was going to conjure up even a distorted version of Eren Jaeger, she would have expected it to happen when she died. She had thought that he would watch.

Mikasa hit the ground, the side of her head slamming hard against a flat gravestone. The world continued to spin around the sound of the vampire chuckling. She clenched the hand holding her stake, only to find that it must have fallen out of her grasp during the fall.

She forced herself to sit up, hands pushing hard against the ground to make up for the way the world was spinning around her. When she looked up, the vampire was glaring down at her. She tried to stand up, to scurry back, but her ankle gave out when she tried to bear weight on it. A sprain - just a sprain - nothing that wouldn't heal in a couple of days with her abilities, but even a sprain couldn't bear weight immediately. The vampire was saying something now, but she couldn't make out the words, couldn't hear anything past the buzzing in her head, couldn't feel anything but the sensation of warm blood oozing from the cut in her head.

The vampire was reaching for her.

She hadn't wanted to take a risk, and because of that, she was going to die tonight. And Eren wasn't even there to see it.

Maybe that was fitting. She hadn't witnessed his final moments either. Maybe he wanted her to die alone as well.

The vampire's hand closed around her neck. She forced herself to look up, to at least look her death in the eyes-

- and the vampire exploded into dust. In his wake stood the blonde girl from her trigonometry class, stake in hand and gaze locked on Mikasa.

The girl said something. Mikasa blinked, hearing her words, but unable to process them. The girl frowned, and Mikasa grit her teeth, just to give herself another sensation to focus on.

"Repeat that," Mikasa ordered.

The girl extended a hand. "I asked how badly injured you are," she said.

Mikasa ignored the hand and moved to force herself to her feet. Her injured ankle protested once again, but she bore the majority of her weight on her other leg and managed to get upright. "I can handle it," she said. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't seem at all off-put by Mikasa's blunt question. If anything, she seemed like she expected it. "Annie Leonhart," she said.

She paused for a moment. It did nothing to prepare Mikasa for her next, impossible words.

"I'm the slayer."

*

Weeks later, armed with only an axe, her memories, and the desperate research of a lonely girl scared she was losing her mind, Mikasa went hunting.

She found the one who had snatched them from the bodies of the original monsters and tossed them into the ocean.

She took his head, and he turned to ash at her feet.

[museflight]

The Call (1)

Chapter Title: Slayer

Wordcount: 4.1k

Ao3 Link: Click

Notes: Written for day one of @aot-au-week , since a Buffy AU very technically counts as a College AU, and because it's the least I owe @cookietonwrites for convincing them to take on another fic. As you can see, the idea quickly spiraled into a multi-chap, for which I am not even remotely apologetic.

Summary: There is only ever one slayer at a time; the chosen one, a girl strong enough to fight against the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness.

 Mikasa has accepted that for her, being the slayer means living a reclusive life, haunted by the image of the first person she failed to save and unable to ever truly let anyone in. However, everything is called into question with the arrival of Annie, a girl who claims to also be a slayer. Mikasa's life becomes much less solitary seemingly overnight, but friendship is followed by a deadly conspiracy, and with it, the threat of loss and heartache.

Mikasa's world consisted of a haze of blurred vision and the gentle buzzing in her ears. She blinked, and the figures on the paper before her solidified into numbers for a heartbeat before fading out once again. Trying it a few more times didn't yield any better results. It only made her aware of how much her eyes burned and how heavy her eyelids were. How heavy her entire head was. How easy it would be to just slip forward and… 

The buzzing reached a crescendo. A hand reached out to grab her shoulder. She jerked back upright to find Armin sitting across the table from her, one hand still extended and a worried expression on his face. 

Mikasa faltered. Words played at her lips, semi-contradictory things like 'it's fine' and 'what's wrong', but none of them felt right enough to actually be voiced. Instead, Armin was the one to break the silence. 

"When's the last time you slept?" he asked. 

Mikasa sighed. He must be really worried if he was cutting straight to the point like that. 

"Don't worry about it," she said, even though she knew it wouldn't work. 

Armin's frown deepened as a hint of disapproval trickled onto his features. He pitched his voice into a whisper to say, "you don't need to go out every night. You can't- you shouldn't be doing this alone."

"I do," Mikasa countered. "I'm the only one who can. You know that, Armin."

There was one girl in the whole world charged with keeping the forces of darkness at bay. She couldn't cast that duty aside just because she was tired.

It was with that thought that she realized that her gaze had begun to drift back toward the table. She snapped it back up as Armin asked, "does Erwin know how thin you're wearing yourself?" 

Mikasa pursed her lips. "Erwin's only been here for a few weeks. He'll get used to it."

"You shouldn't be used to it," Armin insisted, the softness of his voice warring with the rapidly mounting undercurrent of anxiety. He was still talking, too, about how Erwin wouldn't approve and she would be more productive if she wasn't dead on her feet. She didn't absorb any of the actual words, his voice fading back out into that gentle, incoherent buzzing.

Then there was a flicker of movement as something faded into sight in the corner of her vision, and everything Armin said became utterly doomed to sail right over her head.

Mikasa very determinedly did not look at the figure. She didn't turn her head and didn't allow her eyes to move in his direction beyond that first involuntary twitch. It didn't matter. He leaned forward, and she caught a glimpse of the green eyes peering out from what she knew would be a placid-yet-piercing expression.

"He's right, Mikasa," he said. "You need to take better care of yourself."

She allowed her eyes to flicker shut even though it did nothing to block out the man's voice. The voice of her own imagination.

"You've always been like this," he sighed. His voice had a whisper of warmth in it today, a touch of fondness tucked within what sounded like age-old resignation. "But you shouldn't. You're at your best when you have our friends with you."

Something flickered within her at the comment, although she was pleased to note that she managed to keep it within. There was no need to remind the hallucination that she didn't have any friends. Not even Armin, truly. Because for all that they were fond of each other, no amount of fondness could ever make up for-

"-kasa?"

It was the hint of iron intertwining itself with the worry in Armin's voice that got her to open her eyes. Mikasa forced herself to look at Armin and only Armin, who was leaning halfway across the table at this point.

"You really need to get some rest," he said. She moved to open her mouth, but he cut her off by asking, "you don't have trigonometry for five more hours, right?"

Mikasa nodded.

Armin gave one short, decisive nod, which appeared to be more for himself than anything. "You should take a nap, then."

The shift in her expression was subtle, just a faint downward turn to her lips, but apparently still enough for him to catch, because he quickly added, "you're going on patrolling again tonight, aren't you? Even a couple of hours would be better than nothing. I promised to meet up with Annie in a little while, but. I could walk you home?"

Mikasa didn't bother asking who Annie was, but she didn't protest either. She could see the logic in his argument, even if it felt painfully like a waste of time. "No, it's alright," she said. "I can walk myself."

Armin frowned. "Okay, but you will-"

"Go home and take a nap. Yes." She was already standing up as she finished agreeing. If she was going to keep her word, then it would be better to get it done sooner than later. The earlier she left, the sooner she could return. "I'll see you tomorrow," she promised.

With that, she turned around and left without taking another look at the boy who maybe, in another world, could have been her friend.

Or the distorted memory of Eren Jaeger.

*

Mikasa laid in her bed and closed her eyes.

*

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Clear!"

Thud.

"Cl-"

Coughing. Choking, sputtering, straining, a strain in her chest that turned into an ache resonating throughout her entire body. A pain worse than anything she had ever felt in her fourteen years.

Shouting. Rushing. Urgent voices talking rapidly. Not to her, with her aching body and spinning vision, but to each other. White coats and flashing lights. They were talking, talking, and there was something she had to say, something more important than the flashing lights or the unreal pain or the whisper of strength that shouldn't be there. There was something, someone, she had to ask about-

Her voice cut off in a hoarse croak when she tried to speak. Her throat stung, like it had been worn ragged by- by-

Salt.

Memories flashed by her in a dreadful kaleidoscope. The parents. The men. The boy. The other man, the one they'd thought would help. The sea - he'd thrown them in the sea, her and-

A jolt of energy. Mikasa forced herself upright and grabbed the wrist of the first person she saw. Surprise was on his face. Surprise and discomfort; her grip was stronger than it should have been. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was-

"Eren," she croaked.

"Eren." The white-coated man's voice was softer than she needed it to be. Focused on her. He needed to be focused on not her. "Is that your name? Eren?"

Through parched lips and a throat like sandpaper, she croaked out, "where's Eren?"

The man gave her a long, sad look. No. No. He shouldn't be looking at her like that.

"He saved me," Mikasa pressed. "Then he- the-" monster “- we went in the water together."

One faltering moment that lasted for an eternity.

The man redirected with talk about her. What's her name, can she describe what she's feeling, she's okay, it'll all be okay - it didn't matter. It didn't matter and it wouldn't be okay. It didn't matter, because in that moment, he didn't need to answer.

His expression spoke only of death.

*

She woke up feeling more awake, but just as tired as she had been before.

*

Mikasa didn't even try to pay attention during trigonometry. The nap may have refreshed her to some degree, but not enough for that. Besides, she still had a solid C. Spending class zoned out was... admittedly detrimental, considering that she had been in a similar state for her last two classes, but not so devastating that she wouldn't be able to recover from it. She would just have to cram as hard as she could once she had the opportunity to spend a few nights on her classwork. It wasn't a pleasant routine, but it had gotten her through her first two semesters of college. She could make it work for this one as well.

Besides, she had more important things to spend her brainpower on.

A girl had been marked absent during roll call. Mina Carolina. A single absence was not unusual in and of itself, but although Mikasa couldn't claim to know Mina well, she had not seen the girl take a day off before. That didn't mean that she couldn't - she could be well and truly sick, or an emergency could have popped up. People took days off all the time, even those who normally didn't.

The trouble was that there had been a marked increase in people turning up absent lately. Most of them never returned. There were no bodies found or hints as to their whereabouts. They were simply never seen again.

Mikasa didn't want to feel a sense of distant mourning. She wanted to hope that Mina would show up at their next class with some excuse for the teacher about how she can sick or had to deal with an unignorable situation. However, that same part of her had also wanted to hold out hope for Franz and Hannah when they disappeared from her American Literature class, and now they were nothing but faces on missing posters.

The semester had only been in swing for a month and a half. Mina would be the third victim person she had shared a class with. Not third overall - just that she had shared a class with specifically. When she scaled the radius up to encompass the entire campus, she would be the fifth disappearance.

According to Erwin, Paradis' level of supernatural activity was on the low side of average. She suspected that that was the reason he had been hinting that they should relocate. He felt that she was wasted here, and as her Watcher, he wasn't comfortable doing nothing about it, no matter how new to his position or unwelcome he was. And truthfully, five people disappearing off of a college campus during the first semester and a half wasn't unusual. College was stressful. She didn't know the details regarding two of the disappearances, and even with the couple who had seemingly disappeared off the face of the like, a human culprit was just as likely as a demonic one, if not moreso.

So why was she so certain that Mina Carolina had met her death at some point since she had last seen her?

Why did she feel like she had failed to stop it?

Once the feelings of dread and guilt grew strong enough for her to be actively aware of them, Mikasa decided to redirect her attention to the students who were there. 

Armin probably would have been one of her classmates if she hadn't insisted that he not take any classes that run past sunset and directed him to the morning trigonometry course instead. However, it wouldn't have been a large class even with him and Mina. 

Four of the students scattered across the room were unknown to Mikasa. However, her seat near the back of the room allowed her to keep an eye on them with relative ease. That, in turn, allowed her to be fairly comfortable in her assessment that they were normal human students. 

She could say the same of her four other classmates as well. They, however, were a little higher on her radar. 

Closest to her, his desk seated directly in the last few rays of evening sunlight, was a muscular blond man. Mikasa thought that his name began with an 'R', but didn't know much else about him. He'd caught her attention with a loud, outgoing personality and general demeanor that made him seem like an odd fit for the class. At the moment, it looked like he wasn't paying much more attention than Mikasa herself, fiddling with the ring on his left hand and only occasionally glancing up at the teacher. 

The blonde next to him was as much of a stranger, but she at least looked like she was focusing. She had gained Mikasa's attention by joining a week after classes had started. Since then, however, she had proven quiet and distant, only interacting with her classmates when she glared at the man next to her for trying to talk to her while she was working.    

Jean Kirstein, meanwhile, clearly didn't want to be a stranger. Over the past year, he had made a few attempts to reach out that she could admit were enduring. If she didn't have her duty, he might be someone she could consider a friend. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to do anything but brush him off, for his own sake. He didn't pay her much attention in class though. That wasn’t to say that he was completely focused, even though he had claimed a seat at the front of the class. She often glimpsed him speaking to the student next to him. There’d also been enough instances when she’d heard a frustrated comment from him regarding the course for her to get the sense that trigonometry wasn't particularly easy for him. However, she also suspected that he was hardworking and dedicated enough to make up for it.

The student next to him was Marco Bott. Cheerful and painfully earnest, he was honestly mostly notable to Mikasa because he was Jean's friend. He seemed like a good person though. That meant he was a reminder of why Mikasa couldn't let Jean become her friend no matter how hard he tried or let herself rest no matter how much Armin tried to insist. If she faltered, if she slowed, there would be consequences.

Mina used to sit behind Jean and Marco.

The sound of chairs being pushed back and writing implements being put away drew Mikasa out of her stupor. Rather than look at the clock, she glanced out the window.

The sun had already begun to set.

She quickly stuffed her textbook, pencil case, and notebook in her bag, feeling only a brief pang of guilt for the blank sheet of paper that stared back at her. The items landed haphazardly, and she knew that if she looked, they would likely only partly obscure the stake, crossbow, and knife that laid carefully arranged at the bottom. She zipped it shut before anyone could get curious and try to sneak a peek; a reflex even though she knew that no one would be bold enough to try that with her.

Despite being the last one to start getting packed, she was the first one out of class. Just like she always was. From there, it didn’t take long to get off the campus.

The first two blocks of Mikasa's walk went like she was heading home. It was as she reached the third - the one that would have lead back to her apartment - that she took a sharp right. From there it was four blocks straight on, then one block to the left. A simple route, but one that had come to haunt her nightmares.

Dusk had descended on the cemetery by the time she reached it.

Logically, she knew that she wasn't likely to run into anything for several more hours.

Instinctively, she knew that Mina Carolina wasn't likely to return to class.

This wasn't a night to take risks.

Mikasa wandered deeper into the graveyard, where she was less likely to be spotted by any passerby, and pulled out her stake. There, she began to wander.

It wasn't a small cemetery by any means. That was what made it the ideal hive for demonic activity. Not only were cemeteries where the majority of newly turned vampires rose, but large ones were also rife with additional dead bodies and crypts. This one was even separated into several different sections, which made it easy to get lost.

Getting lost made it easy to watch the time slip by.

A couple of hours into her patrol, a familiar figure flickered into existence at the edges of her vision. She didn't say anything to him, and he followed her silently, gaze occasionally flickering to one side or another as he took in the graveyard. As if he might notice anything before she did. Technically speaking, she supposed that he might. He had "caught" things a few times in the past, when she was subconsciously aware of something but hadn't been fast enough to process it with her conscious mind. It was the only thing that made sense, for all that she desperately wished that it wasn't.

A slayer whose hallucination needed to point things out for her couldn't mean anything good for the world.

She forced herself to look away from the figment and focus on her surroundings.

Not five minutes later, the sound of shifting earth caught her attention. Mikasa turned and strode toward it, her grip on her stake tightening and her gaze fixed straight ahead. Within seconds, she had spotted it; a grave with the earth beneath it stirring. As she watched, a hand punched up and out of it, grasping desperately at the ground. The head came next - an unfamiliar man, his face distorted by lumps across his forehead and nose, slitted yellow eyes, and fangs. The visage of a vampire prepared for predation. It glared at her as it struggled and snarled, eventually freeing its other arm. Once that was done, it had a much easier time dragging itself to the surface.

It never got the chance to free itself fully. The second its chest was completely exposed, Mikasa sprang into action. She grabbed the thing by the lapels of its dirt-stained tuxedo and dragged it upward. Fear flicked across its face, causing the predatory features to fall away and leaving a normal face behind. A face that could have been human if she didn't know better. She didn't allow herself to look closely.

In a blink, she had rammed her stake through the vampire's chest and into its heart. It dissolved into dust a few seconds later. Mikasa stood and watched the flecks flutter back down to earth.

She was drawn out of her reverie by a firm, "you shouldn't be patrolling tonight."

Mikasa grit her jaw. "I already rested," she pointed out.

"It isn't enough. You've been exhausting yourself, one little nap isn't going to make up for that."

"You just saw me kill a vampire."

"Yeah, and it took way more out of you than it normally would."

Mikasa whirled around to face the figment. Something in her chest threatened to hitch as she allowed herself to look directly at him, just as it so often did, even years after he first manifested.

The thing before her almost could have been a ghost. It wasn't though; god knew she had done enough research on the subject. Ghosts, when they visibly manifested at all, took the appearance they wore at their time of death or at another point in their life.

Eren Jaeger had been fourteen when he died. Even if he responded to the same name, this grown man with distant, unreadable eyes couldn't be him.

He wasn't anything. She'd run all of the tests as she learned more about the Supernatural. She wasn't haunted, there weren't hints of a demonic presence lingering around her - there was nowhere he could have come from other than her own mind.

He was nothing but a manifestation of her guilty conscience. She had come to terms with that years ago, yet she was still wasting time arguing with him.

At that instant, it was suddenly very tempting to look away. However, she forced her gaze to remain steady as she coldly said, "leave."

The figment blinked. "Mikasa-"

"No," she interrupted.

Something flickered in the illusion's eyes. It was difficult to identify, caught behind that distorting wall that so often covered his emotions, and she didn't even bother to try. He opened his mouth again, but she didn't let him get another word in.

"I'm not willing to put up with you tonight," she said. "Get out."

His expression finally came together into something real and visible. Alarm. "Mikasa, move!"

Mikasa lunged to the side just in time to avoid being grabbed by the shoulder.

She spun around to find a burly vampire standing over the ashes of the one she'd just killed. He was musclebound and bulky enough that he might be somewhat difficult to face in hand-to-hand combat - but not so much as to stand a real chance against her. "Slayer," he snarled. "I am going to grind you into dust."

Mikasa didn't bother responding. He lunged forward and she spun to the side, ducking beneath his flailing fist to get behind him. As she moved, she noticed that Eren had disappeared. Good. She sprang forward, stake in hand, only for the vampire to swing back around at the last moment and grab her wrist. He squeezed, a horrible grin on his face, and she had to fight to keep from automatically releasing her grip on her stake.

As the vampire leaned forward, she twisted to punch him in the sternum with her free hand. It only made him falter for a moment, but it was enough for her to wrench her wrist out of his grasp. It was also enough for her to come to a terrible realization.

Her blows weren't as hard as they usually were and she was moving slowly.

Eren was right.

There wasn't any time to ruminate on that. The vampire lunged forward, and Mikasa dove to the side again. She leaned into the momentum and swung her leg out to land a kick to the vampire’s side. He stumbled, a curse on his lips.

It didn't bring her any sense of victory, for as she brought her foot down, it landed on uneven ground. Not observant enough.

Pain shot up her ankle and the world began to tilt.

Eren still wasn't anywhere to be seen. Funny. If her mind was going to conjure up even a distorted version of Eren Jaeger, she would have expected it to happen when she died. She had thought that he would watch.

Mikasa hit the ground, the side of her head slamming hard against a flat gravestone. The world continued to spin around the sound of the vampire chuckling. She clenched the hand holding her stake, only to find that it must have fallen out of her grasp during the fall.

She forced herself to sit up, hands pushing hard against the ground to make up for the way the world was spinning around her. When she looked up, the vampire was glaring down at her. She tried to stand up, to scurry back, but her ankle gave out when she tried to bear weight on it. A sprain - just a sprain - nothing that wouldn't heal in a couple of days with her abilities, but even a sprain couldn't bear weight immediately. The vampire was saying something now, but she couldn't make out the words, couldn't hear anything past the buzzing in her head, couldn't feel anything but the sensation of warm blood oozing from the cut in her head.

The vampire was reaching for her.

She hadn't wanted to take a risk, and because of that, she was going to die tonight. And Eren wasn't even there to see it.

Maybe that was fitting. She hadn't witnessed his final moments either. Maybe he wanted her to die alone as well.

The vampire's hand closed around her neck. She forced herself to look up, to at least look her death in the eyes-

- and the vampire exploded into dust. In his wake stood the blonde girl from her trigonometry class, stake in hand and gaze locked on Mikasa.

The girl said something. Mikasa blinked, hearing her words, but unable to process them. The girl frowned, and Mikasa grit her teeth, just to give herself another sensation to focus on.

"Repeat that," Mikasa ordered.

The girl extended a hand. "I asked how badly injured you are," she said.

Mikasa ignored the hand and moved to force herself to her feet. Her injured ankle protested once again, but she bore the majority of her weight on her other leg and managed to get upright. "I can handle it," she said. "Who are you?"

The girl didn't seem at all off-put by Mikasa's blunt question. If anything, she seemed like she expected it. "Annie Leonhart," she said.

She paused for a moment. It did nothing to prepare Mikasa for her next, impossible words.

"I'm the slayer."

*

Weeks later, armed with only an axe, her memories, and the desperate research of a lonely girl scared she was losing her mind, Mikasa went hunting.

She found the one who had snatched them from the bodies of the original monsters and tossed them into the ocean.

She took his head, and he turned to ash at her feet.

[sworntolight-a]

Title: Five Times Kissed

Ships: Entrust (KikuxTakeru), Solarflare (Mako(oc)xTakeru), Fireflower (MakoxTakeruxKiku)

Summary: Five kisses. Five moments. Five of thousands, likely more - All shared across a lifetime spent bound together by the phoenix’s flames.

A drabble set for @soulburnings of our trio of fluffy, loving dorks - Happy birthday, Kasa! <3333

This way. Kiku wasn't sure why she hadn't expected a shortcut down an alley, honey glancing about their surroundings. Wasn't he always telling her not to go near them, always reminding her how dangerous they were with the Mizunuma brothers and their gang lurking around any and every corner? “Takeru, are you sure?”

“You said you didn't want to be seen.”

That was true, and she was thankful for his slowing to a stop and look back to her, first to meet her gaze, then down to the mess staining her blouse. She hadn't wanted to wander through the shopping district where everyone could see her, not when she'd slipped and fallen in a pile of fish guts just an hour earlier; who would with tendrils of fish skin, scales, and various parts making their clothes and hair stick to them? The smell was bad enough, but to be seen would be twice as bard – Especially with the next day being sunday and most of their classmates out for the evening!

All the same, she hadn't expected him to take her concerns to heart, either. Takeru rarely cared what anyone thought of him, and he'd made his thoughts on her needing to look pretty and presentable known more than once. She looked fine, he'd always remind her. Her scarf might have been askew, or her hair frizzy, but he'd always say she looked fine... Except for now, she noted. Now there were no promises of looking 'fine', no comments on her skirt or braid being a bit off, no teases – Just a concerned light in his eyes and free hand reaching out, thumb gently brushing a scale off her cheek.

He rarely cared what others thought, and yet he was all too willing to lead her through back alleys by the hand just so she could rest assured nobody had seen her looking like a whale had exploded.

He didn't have to, didn't have to care, and he was.

For her.

Slowly, Kiku stepped closer, rocking onto her toes and laying her hand against his chest. Despite the fish stuck to her and the awkwardness of it all, she couldn't stop herself from tilting her head towards him... Or her lips from brushing against his, instant coloring her cheeks a vibrant pink, and, she'd find as she pulled back, his bright red, sky-colored eyes wide in surprise and hand tightened around hers. But why... Was her heart pounding so hard against her ribs, now? Why had that felt so... Good? “Thank you, Takeru.”

“Uh...”

“Did you forget how to breathe?”

Gods knew she had.

~~

“You haven't seen my shirt, have you?”

“...What's a shirt?”

Mako didn't have to look to know Takeru's stare had turned blunt, let alone pinned on her. Not when she'd gone and parked herself on top of the shirt in question, casually continuing to scroll through settings in her 3DS game without so much as cracking a smile – No matter how much she wanted to. What was the worst he could do, anyway? Flip her off it? “Never heard of this 'shirt', Takeru. Sorry.”

“I can see it under you,” came his reply, closer than before – Yet she still wouldn't look up. In her opinion, there was no point; they'd been living together for two months, sharing her bedroom for at least one, and aside from some heated playfighting, there was little reason to think her boyfriend would do anything aside from order her off his shirt. And why would she want to do that when keeping it for herself meant he'd have to join her without one?

Yet before she could get out another sound, she'd find her game plucked from her hands, replaced with her phoenix's smirking expression. A smirk that made her own lips curl into a smile; he was looking for a playfight, wasn't he? “It's my shirt.”

“You're mine,” Takeru countered, though Mako could read between the lines: You're my girlfriend, so that makes you AND the shirt mine, doesn't it? “Give it to me.”

“Depends on what this it is.”

“Mako. I want to go to bed.”

“No you don't.”

“I want to sleep.”

No he didn't, not with that look on his face, but she'd not point that out a second time. Instead, she'd simply lift a hand to cup his cheek, guiding Takeru closer for their lips to meet in a soft, loving kiss – A gesture laced in fire and desire. It'd only been a month of sharing a room, and yet, she still caught herself melting far too easily underneath his advance, melting into her pillows like pure putty under his shift to lean over her. “Mmm... God, I love you-”

“You too-”

She'd still never give him back that shirt though.

~~

Gentle touches had always been her favorite, Kiku decided. Even a year, two years earlier, when he'd been little more than a thug and she clueless to the ways of the world, his touch across her hand and cheek had always been enough to lay her every trouble to rest. The rest of the universe seemed to melt away with each soft pass of skin on skin – All that was left was them, in a world all their own.

“I missed you.” She didn't trust her voice above the whisper it'd come out as, fingers curling into his sweatshirt. I missed you. Three words she shouldn't have been so wary to say, but he'd been gone for a reason, too, and she didn't want him to think she hadn't been supporting him the entire time. But now... He was real, right?

She didn't have to ask that question, Takeru's nose nudging hers a second later with a whisper of 'you too'. She'd never thought his return would make a moment like this... Nor had she ever expected she'd spend the day after her birthday hidden away in his bedroom, wrapped up in his arms as the sun slowly sank bellow the horizon outside. He was real, and she was finding that out in the best way possible, snuggling herself against her best friend – Her boyfriend. The boy she'd loved for so long, and nearly lost.

The boy who'd protected her for as long as she could remember.

The boy who made her heart skip a beat with every touch and every smile.

The boy who owned her heart, always.

And for the first time, her lean in was met halfway by a nervous yet eager Takeru, lips barely brushing before bravery took over and met for a far more solid, loving kiss. Their first as a couple... It was enough to send a shiver down her spine, pulled closer the second he noticed. If he thought she was cold, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't about to complain – Let alone pull away from the fire.

Let it consume me – There's no better birthday gift than to be surrounded by him, always.

~~

Takeru's heavy sigh and flop onto their shared bed was more than enough to make Mako laugh, slow fingers undoing the floppy bow tying her hair back into a loose bun. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him nervous; tests when they lived in the city had done this to him, too, as had every mention of ever talking to her parents, but actually meeting them in person as he had seemed to have been her fiance's breaking point. Not that she could tell by the unamused stare he pinned on her a second later, of course! “You survived, didn't you? And I told you they'd like you.”

“Your father talked about the ancient rights of cows,” Takeru reminded, peeling his mouth from the pillow he'd shoved it into. “That's not liking me, Mako, that's- ...What is he?”

“Mom and I have been asking that for a long time.” Hair flopping down against her back and ribbon set aside, she wasted no time in crawling onto the bed and over him, welcoming his quick roll onto his back and arms snaking around her middle. Being on their best behavior, on top of his nervousness all through dinner, had meant touches were kept to a bare minimum – And being pulled down to lay against his far more solid form, warmth almost seeming to wrap around her like the heat from a fireplace, easily drew a content sigh from her lips. No matter how awkward the day, or how bad, laying with him always made it seem like it'd never happened... “They loved you, you know.”

“Mmm...”

“I know that hum.”

Slowly, his head lifted off his pillow, a light kiss connecting them for but a moment. “It's a tired hum.”

“I'm sure.” That was an I hope so, Mako decided, biting the words off the tip of her tongue in favor of another soft kiss, shuddering under the hands slipping under the back of her blouse for a skim of careful fingertips against her skin. Even if she'd wanted to point it out, his touch alone kept her voice from moving past her throat – And made it all to easy for her to 'steal' a third kiss, gently nipping at his lower lip along with it.

It didn't matter if they liked him or not, she reminded herself. It didn't matter if the world did, or what anyone thought of their relationship – Not when- “I love you, Takeru.”

“Love you too, Mako-chan-”

Not when he owned her with such a simple, soft smile.

“Always.”

~~

“It's not like him to sleep this late,” Kiku sighed out, looking away from the living room's wall clock at the sound of a cup clicking against the nearby coffee table. “He's usually up by now, even on bad days. Did he say anything to you?”

Mako shrugged, plopping herself down beside her partner as carefully – and yet as ungracefully – as possible. The infant in her arms had only just stopped fussing no more than a few minutes earlier, and the last thing she wanted to do was set off another crying fit so soon. “It's how things like this go, you know. Sometimes it takes longer to come back from.”

“It's ten, Mako.”

“Mental illness sucks, Kiku.”

Though her lips parted to reply, Kiku quickly pressed them back together. Mako wasn't wrong, and they both knew it – But it wasn't like their household to be so quiet so late into the evening on a bad day, either. Sure, Takeru had spent days on end avoiding most everything on a bad day before, but he'd also made himself known to them all by 8, 9 the latest, too. Knowing it was nearly their eldest child's bedtime and he still wasn't out of bed yet worried her, something Mako quickly picked up on and countered with a soft smile.

“He'll be fine,” she offered, reaching up to brush a strand of raven hair behind Kiku's ear as Hiko crawled up to settle between them, Sumi instantly turning her attention to her brother from her mother's arms. “I promise. We'll just find him in the kitchen before us in the morning, that's all. Hope you didn’t want to keep those muffins for a rainy day.”

“I don't eat that much.”

Unlike the pure relief on Kiku's face at the sound, Takeru's voice only made Mako laugh, reaching out to catch their husband's hands the moment he was close enough to the couch. To the untrained eye, he looked content enough; dressed in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, breaking into a smile the moment Mako gave his hands a light squeeze and Hiko scooted to the side for him to sit with them. Of course, Hiko wouldn't stay there long, either, scooped onto his father's lap half a second later, hugged tight against the elder's middle with giggles galore.

But to his wives, the wear was more than obvious. Bright blue eyes had gone dim, equally as vibrant smile still warm, yet nowhere near as wide. Even his posture was more slouched than normal, and despite his chuckle over Hiko's laughter and Sumi's gurgling in his direction, a finger offered for the baby to grab at, he'd clearly not recovered enough from his 'bad day' to stay up for long. “...Sorry.”

Sorry I worried you. Sorry I was in bed all day. Sorry I haven't been out here. Sorry you had to take care of the kids all day alone- The meanings behind his apology were endless, Kiku leaning in to silence him with a sweet kiss before another could slip free. He had nothing to apologize for, after all, relishing in the faint smile he let work its way into the gesture. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm-mm.” Once more, he didn't need to elaborate, leaning back into the couch, welcoming both women's snuggle into his sides. Sleep rarely came easy when his PTSD decided to make a reappearance, but after ten years of marriage and twice as long of friendship, even he knew he didn't need to explain himself. “...Mind if I stay here?”

Mako let out a light laugh, fingertips tracing over his jawline, guiding his head to tilt to the side for her own kiss to find his lips, soft and loving. “You make it sound like we'd let you go,” she reminded right after, expression softening as his smile grew a little more. “You're stuck with us, for the rest of your life. Hope you like scratches and cuddles.”

“Love them.”

“Good...”

“'Cause we've never letting you go. Ever.”

Five kisses, five moments... Just five of thousands across a lifetime shared together. No matter what the world tries to throw their way, there's nothing they can't beat-

Not when they can face it as a family, forever bound by the flames.

[theabyssalmuses-archived]

The False Idol- (Drabble)

(( i don’t oft write these but sometimes inspiration strikes... this Lil piece of work is written in a slightly different style and is based off a theoretical Danganronpa verse for Kasane Teto, based off this.   It takes place after the ‘concert’ mentioned in that post, wherein someone died. Teto has left her room as little as possible since, and the protagonist (left vague) has come by, worried about her. Enjoy! (or don’t..?) (under a read more cause long af lmao) 

Knock, Knock. Knock, Knock. 

There was someone at the door. It seems like they want to see me, or at least talk to me.  I can’t face them like this. In the past, maybe I would have loved the idea of someone coming to talk to me after a concert...but I suppose that will never happen, now, will it? In the end, it was all just...

“Teto-san, are you okay? You’ve been acting odd lately..truth be told, I’m getting kind of worried!” 

Tch. Of course, they’d come by at a time like this. Ah, what to do...I can’t show myself, not like this...c..come on Teto, stop crying already! You’re an idol...you... no, I can’t be that anymore. 

“J..just a second! I...I’m getting changed!” - A lie, of course. I’ve always been good at those, after all. Even now, after it’s all comedown...I can’t stop lying... I hate it. I hate it. I hate... 

“...Teto-san. Are you crying...?” 

Shoot, my voice gave it away, didn’t it? “N..no! I’m not crying...! I’m not...” My eyes sting. “I’m...I’m not...” Don’t break down now, please! I can’t let them know I’m... 

“I’m..n..not crying...” Even as I said that tears were falling and I’m powerless to stop them- my nose is running out of control...ah...they know now, don’t they? With that revelation, I fell to my knees and started to sob...i’m so worthless. A real nobody...Kasane Teto...who is that, exactly? 

I look up to see the door slowly opening as they stepped inside... That person who’d been by my side since day one. I was so naive back then, I wish I had taken things more seriously... maybe things wouldn’t have turned out like this if I had. 

“I...I didn...I didn’t say you could c..come in...” I manage to feebly choke out, but I suppose the fact that I had unlocked the door...(when did I do that?) gave away my true intentions. With a heavy sigh, I found myself looking to the floor again. My hands grew restless, tapping against my leg awkwardly- the same rhythm as that day. I hate it, but I can’t help but remember. 

“Kasane-san. What’s gotten into you? wasn’t it you who told me we would all be okay? that if we just remain upbeat, we’ll get out of this..? You were the reason I held on this long Kasane-san...so to see you like this, I....” 

The tears fell faster. Before I knew it, I had started to wail aloud. All these feelings that I had tried to express through song- i could no longer let them out that way, so they came pouring out here, instead. The realisation that I could never go back to who I wanted to be..it hurts. Everything hurts. 

“I...It’s my..my fault! I got them killed! If it..if it wasn’t for my stupid, stupid concert...if I wasn’t so focused on trying to be who I wanted to be...if I had just been myself like everyone else...!!” 

“Kasane-san! Hold yourself together! What are you saying? Kasane-san is Kasane-san, you can’t possibly be anyone else!” 

“You don’t get it! I’m not real! I’m a fake! I’m not a diva, or an idol...I don’t sing up on stage, or dance in the spotlight...! I just act like it...those posters were just photoshopped pictures my friends made...!! I’m nothing! I don’t have any fame or fans! There’s nothing good about me! It...It should have been me to die!” 

I couldn’t help it. Even with how hoarse I would be, I couldn’t help but scream out these feelings. Like the times I had done on my stage of lies, my voice betrayed me and my thoughts came flooding out. Hands gripping my outfit, ruffling the fabric as more and more tears fell. 

A faker. A joke. A real nobody. The Ultimate Faker, wasn’t she?

“Kasane-san...please don’t say that. No one deserves to die, and being fake or not doesn’t matter. Faker or not, you still have the title of ‘The Ultimate Diva’...the way you performed on stage the other day was...it was real, wasn’t it!? You really performed! Who you were before doesn’t matter..here, to me...you are Kasane Teto, that’s all.” 

My tears stopped suddenly..it felt like time had frozen. Wiping my eyes, I looked toward them again, that damned melody still playing in my mind... but when I look at them...it’s so much quieter. 

“You understand? You performed back then...you were real, weren’t you? I felt your feelings the, Kasane-san, everyone did. No matter what happens from now, I’ll support you as best as I can, alright? I want to see you up there again, performing as you did. I want to see your genuine smile as you sing again, Kasa...Teto.”  

This feeling...was it love? affection? No...Hope, maybe? I can’t’ remember the last time I felt like this...they want to see me smile genuinely, to be happy, to- 

To perform again? 

“...I...I’m sorry...” The tears returned, my eyes stinging as that song reached it’s climax, my mind screaming at for being so stupid. “I can’t, I can’t!  To go up on the stage...It’s ruined! I can’t do it! I..I’m sorry!!”  Im so useless. I couldn’t even fake this much, could I? The very idea of going back up on stage hurts. “I...I’m sorry...th..thank you for everything b...but...I wan’t some alone time, if it’s alright...Thank you again, b...but...” 

“...Alright, I understand, Kasane-san. I’ll....I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Be careful, alright?”  

“Mhm, I..I will. See you tomorrow...”

They left, my throat burning, eyes stinging and ears ringing.  Shakily, I rise to my feet, and climb upon the pseudo-stage I arranged when I got here.. A simple table with a flashlight pointed at it, but...it’s real enough for a faker like me. 

The adrenaline pumping height of the stage was now dizzying, nauseating.  The comforting warmth of the spotlight now burned me.  The microphone felt so heavy, where it once sprung out my light-hearted feelings.

Ah...my head... its...- 

[ Kasane Teto collapsed, falling down from her stage onto the floor below, her body going limp. Her microphone rolled away, and her spotlight went dark.She was alive, just...unconcious- yet even so her fingers continued to tap out that melody upon the ground. The same tune as always. Her voice was heard one last time, a quiet mumble as a heavy, dark sleep took her] 

“I’ll...never perform...again...ah...” 

[pxmun]

Ch.3 Road Block

((Sorry this is so late. I think this one isn’t my best work but hopefully next chapter I can get back into the swing of things. Thank y’all for the support! ))

Kizaru: What do you mean he left for the flower capitol?

Kizaru had been waiting for Sentomaru to return with an update about the base when Grandma had found the admiral. At first Kizaru did not know how to respond to her presence but once Grandma had told him she had been sent by Sentomaru he was able to relax. His peace had been short lived though when she told Kizaru that Sentomaru had ran off toward the flower capitol to rescue Toko.

The two were currently standing on Sentomaru’s front porch. Kizaru removed his glasses and rubbed the front of his temples while releasing a heavy sigh.

Kizaru: That boy is going to get himself killed.

Grandma: He’s always been like that. After O-Etsuko’s death Sentomaru would work non stop usually collapsing from exhaustion before he even reached the front door.

Kizaru:  Sentomaru would do the same when he joined the marines. He wouldn’t stop unless we ordered him to.

There was a brief pause before Kizaru spoke up again.

Kizaru: But knowing what I do now I can understand why Sentomaru pushed himself so hard. He’s a good father.

Grandma nodded her head.

Grandma: He is. Sentomaru always tried his best to love and provide for O-Toko, even though he was still heartbroken over the loss of O-Etsuko.

From inside the two could hear the troops laughing and talking with one another.

Grandma: Glad to see that your men are adjusting well.

Kizaru: It hasn’t even been one day and their already joking around, right now though I’m more worried about Sentomaru.

Grandma: As you should be. Since Shogun Orochi’s rule he has convinced the people that anyone who leaves Wano is to be deemed as a traitor.

Kizaru: And what would happen if they returned to Wano?

Grandma: Depends, they might be thrown in prison and forced to work in the mines or executed.

Kizaru: What category would Sentomaru fall under?

Grandma lowered her head in regret.

Grandma: Sentomaru is a good man and an outstanding sumo wrestler. At one point in his career Sentomaru had made it into the final round to determine who would be the new Yokozuna. Many people cheered him on and in the end despite battling an opponent who was known for using dirty tricks Sentomaru won. We thought it was a turn for the better but with his new position Sentomaru would be obligated to collect tribute from the people of Kuri. Sentomaru knew from experience that the people of Kuri were struggling so he refused to comply. I don’t remember the full details except that an argument ensued and that the referee who had watched over Sentomaru’s match was found murdered the next day. The blame was put on Sentomaru claiming he killed the referee because he was going to accuse Sentomaru of cheating. The people that supported Sentomaru saw this as a betrayal and wanted to hang Sentomaru. The day after Sentomaru left Wano this further angered the people and Kyoshiro convinced them that Sentomaru was a coward. He said if Sentomaru ever returned he would be boiled alive!

Kizaru started to feel anxious.

 Meanwhile Sentomaru was running through the wasteland of Kibi. He wore a kasa on his head to cover his missing top knot. As Sentomaru trekked through the barren land many worrying thoughts ran through his head.

Sentomaru: What if I don’t make it there in time? What if Toko is hurt?

Sentomaru was so blinded by his thoughts that he did not see the large figure ahead and ended up ramming the person from behind.

???: Watch where you’re going you piece of filth!

The man turned around revealing himself to be Urashima. The larger man was not in a good mood as of late, he had been dishonored by the woman he had been trying to marry when she sliced off his top knot, along with this Mouse Man had completely abandoned him. Sentomaru let the shadow of his kasa cover his eyes to prevent Urashima from knowing his identity. In his former life the two men had been rivals up to the point of the final sumo match. Right now though Sentomaru couldn’t afford to waste his time with the Yokozuna.

Sentomaru: My apologies but I really need to get to the flower capitol right away. Would you be so kind to move to the side so I can get by?

Urashima: You were the one who ran into me so you should be the one to move aside!

Sentomaru: Again I apologize for running into you but I need to head over to the flower capitol right now!

Urashima: And I ordered you to move aside, now move!

Urashima then gave Sentomaru a powerful shove. Sentomaru was lucky enough to avoid falling on his back but the shove was strong enough to send him sliding backwards by a few feet, knocking off his kasa in the process. Upon seeing Sentomaru Urashima seemed pleased.

Urashima: You sure have some nerve showing your face around here Sentomaru. Under normal circumstances I should be appalled at seeing your face, but if I am able to bring a murderer like you in my honor will be restored.

Sentomaru: You never had any honor to begin with, everyone in Kuri knew you were a cheater Urashima!

Urashima’s face turned red as he became enraged at Sentomaru’s words.

Urashima: That’s it! I’m going to tear your head off!

And with that Urashima charged towards Sentomaru.

Sentomaru stayed where he was, preparing to counteract Urashima.

Sentomaru: You know Urashima if you weren’t so blinded by your ignorance you would realize that there is more to this world than yourself. For instance the third law of motion, for every action there is an equal or opposite reaction.

With that Urashima had reached Sentomaru but the marine grabbed the bigger sumo by his arm and used Urashima’s momentum to swing his opponent around a few times before throwing Urashima a few feet in the opposite direction. The Yokozuna smashed into a large bolder knocking him unconscious. Sentomaru watched on as the dust lifted into the air.

Sentomaru: Let that be a lesson for you, now if you excuse me I need to be on my way.

And with that Sentomaru continued his sprint toward the flower capitol.

[slbp-holiday-exchange-blog]

(For @jemchew, from @regretful-otome)

1. Usagi.

“My name is Yahiko.” The boy beside Lord Kenshin was tiny. Smaller than everyone in the castle, almost the same height as Kanetsugu, but somehow smaller.

In other words, Yahiko was positively tiny compared to himself. He didn’t want to fight the small boy, he would crush him, so Kageie didn’t go out of his way to make friends with the tiny boy.

He… fit in somehow. A bit awkward in the way all growing boys who weren’t quite adults yet were, but alright.

Also, he was very jumpy.

It was like they had gotten a rabbit.

2. Oishī.

A small rabbit that could cook he amended a few days after his introduction. He was much better than the other castle cooks so hopefully, they got to keep him, if only for his food.

He could make kusa-mochi edible. He made Tsugutsugu’s bitter kusa-mochi sweet like they were supposed to be. A relief for his taste buds because Tsugutsugu was fast when it came to making others eat them.

“Yakko, food.” He plopped his head on top of his, his hair was soft, and tossed his arms over those tiny shoulders.

He barely stumbled with his weight this time.

3. Houchou.

Yakko would be very good with a tantou he decided, watching the swift cuts he made to the fish. No hesitation. A good thing on the battlefield.

“Hey, Yakko, want me to teach you how to fight?”

“No.”

That was a shame. He was small. And fast from the few times he had seen Yakko run.

“Are you sure? I’ll go easy on you.” He offered. Tsugutsugu was starting to get boring. And Yocchi never wanted to spar.

He blinked and stared down at the blade that was pointed at his throat.

“No.”

Kitchen knives suited Yakko’s hands more.

4. Kasa.

“You’re so small.” It was part complaint and part… he didn’t mind how small he was, compliment, observation?

But this was starting to hurt his back a little. If he straightened his back, the umbrella would be too high to cover Yakko and the rain was pretty heavy.

Not to mention, both of their feet were already covered in mud and their hakama were getting wet.

“Sorry about this.”

He seemed light enough.

“Yakko, hold this.” He handed the umbrella to him and then picked the smaller man up.

“Kageie-san!”

“Kakki.” He corrected. “We’re friends, so call me Kakki.”

5. Yomu.

Yakko was staring blankly at the scroll. Like he didn’t know what to do with it.

But, he was a commoner. Not a samurai or a noble.

“Yakko, do you know how to read?”

“… no.” Just as he thought.

“I’ll teach you how!” Yocchi popped his head onto Yakko’s and started pointing at the scroll. “This kanji is-”

“Yocchi, he needs to learn kana first before kanji.” His teacher hadn’t been merciful when teaching him the Chinese characters, but he could at least make sure Yakko didn’t suffer too much learning. “I’ll get some books for him.”

6. Okaeri.

“Kakki, you’re super lucky, you know.” He eyed Yocchi as he led him and his group somewhere after their wounds were treated. Rear guard was fun. The injuries not so much.

“What are you talking about? You want to join us?” Laughing, Yocchi shook his head and slide a door open.

A feast. There was no better word for it. It looked good for what wasn’t covered.

And there was a familiar form in the corner, fast asleep.

“When Yakko heard you were coming, he asked Lord Kenshin for permission to make a feast to welcome you back with.”

7. Moku.

“What is this for?” His stare was almost accusing. No doubt he still remembered their conversation in the kitchen.

Yakko didn’t want to fight. But that didn’t mean he should be defenseless.

“You’re too weak.” But still sturdy. “Some defense never hurts.”

A practice sword would hurt, but not in a permanent manner.

Just enough for him to get away.

“I still don’t want to fight.”

“But I won’t always get there in time, Yakko.” Good, Yocchi could do this. “We want you to be able to defend yourself a little, so please?”

He crumpled like paper in no time.

8. Ue.

He woke to a blanket being placed on him and a shadow cast over him.

Wordlessly, he lifted his arm up. An invitation. One he didn’t offer often.

“I have to help with lunch.”

He frowned. Yakko’s food was good and people would get upset if he deprived them of his cooking. So he just sighed and settled back under his blanket which was a haori. But too big to be Yakko’s. Who could have given Yakko one then?

Too much effort to think about he decided, closing his eyes again.

It smelled like sandalwood and felt like sunset.

9. Amai.

The first time Tsugutsugu offered his weapon-grade kusa-mochi, he was unaware. Afterwards, he ran, but that rarely stopped Tsugutsugu. Honestly, they should just equip Tsugutsugu with his food and let him throw them at the enemy. Or feed them. He was such an aggressive feeder.

The first time after Yakko’s arrival, the kusa-mochi was sweet for once.

Just like all the other sweets leaving Yakko’s kitchen.

He wondered what it said about him when he took to napping near the kitchen in order to wake up to a plate of sweets nearby with a pot of tea and a cup.

10. Neru.

He was pleasantly surprised when he woke up in a small human curled up under his haori. Or rather, one under and the other leaning on the wall right by him. It was rare for Yakko to not have a shadow called Ai behind him.

They were both so small that his haori easily covered both of them. It was warm enough he didn’t need it to nap.

Kanetsugu couldn’t scold them. He wouldn’t. He was oddly fond of Yakko though that might have had something with the way Ai followed him around.

A nap would be good for them.

11. Tōrō.

“Kakki-san,” Opening his eyes, he was met with soft lantern light being cast on the floor and Yakko looking down on him. “You missed dinner.”

Giving the smaller man a look, he deliberately dragged his eyes from his to the tray in his hand.

The action got him a giggle and the tray moved in front of him.

“Itadakimasu.”

It wasn’t bad. Eating on the veranda with a lantern’s light and Yakko’s quiet presence.

Perhaps he should keep doing this.

“Kanetsugu-san seemed annoyed with you not coming to dinner.”

Or maybe he shouldn’t. An irritated Kanetsugu was feared by all.

12. Kage.

Officially, Yakko was a page. Kenshin’s page. Or Kanetsugu’s depending on who snagged him first. And a cook.

Unofficially, as in Ai had decided it and no one ever denied her anything that wasn’t dangerous, he was Ai’s main caretaker.

Though, watching the two of them hang laundry up to dry from his spot on the roof, Ai looked like she could have been Yakko’s little sister. Or daughter if he was a little older.

“Nii-san, can we make mochi for Father today?”

“Of course.”

He was good with kids. Did he have a little sister in the capital?

13. Himitsu.

Yakko had secrets. And he wasn’t very good at hiding their existence. He supposedly had an older sister and a mother back in the capital. If anything, Yakko seemed more like Kanetsugu than Yocchi so did he have another sibling?

Not like it was in his position to pry when Yakko was mostly harmless. Unless it involved his kitchen.

Yakko was very good at not revealing his secrets.

“B-b-breasts!” Tsugutsugu covered Yocchi’s mouth before he could get louder.

Except, he couldn’t hide this one after falling into the pond. Then, loud stomps came before them.

“What is going on here?”

14. Shiragiku.

Well, in hindsight, he supposed it made sense. Yakko was built more like a willow and so light compared to even Kanetsugu, he had worried he wasn’t eating enough.

The wet clothes clinging to her frame made it quite obvious a woman had been underneath them.

“You’re soaked!” Grabbing a towel, Kanetsugu started to pat her dry. Not even blinking at her gender. He probably knew from the start.

So why did he let her stay? Did Kenshin know?

“Don’t just stand there! Get me another towel!”

Too troublesome to think about it now he decided, getting another towel.

15. Bijin.

“Yep, Yahiko’s a woman.”

So Kenshin knew too.

“Women are forbidden in the castle.”

“She’s here for Ai. Kanetsugu figured she could use some feminine influence in her life.” Then why weren’t they told in the first place?

The shifting and frowning meant he wasn’t the only one to think that.

“Yakko’s still Yakko.” Yoshichi decided with a firm nod. “So where is she?”

“Lord Kenshin?”

“Come in.”

The door to the main hall slide open.

Her still somewhat damp hair clung closely to her neck and he could see why they felt the need to hide her.

Pretty.

16. Aho.

Yakko, as she didn’t mind being called that, was an idiot, he decided, for continuing to stay when she could have gone home. It was a castle full of men and one girl, and, now, one woman. “No. Spar with me.”

Oh, wait, it was their own fault for making her feel safe enough that staying was an option. There went Tsugutsugu dragging off his latest victim for a ‘spar.’

More like beating him black and blue. In the name of training so they couldn’t get in trouble.

And Kanetsugu seemed to approve of their methods.

Kenshin didn’t mind either.

17. Ku.

“Kakki-san, I made onigiri. Would you like some?” It was nice to hear her normal voice. Pleasant, not at all hoarse like she pretended it was to hide its high pitch.

“Yeah.” He sat up. Taking one of the balls of rice off the plate, he bit into it when something caught his eye.

Where had she gotten rouge? They always went shopping in town together so he would know if she bought something.

Did Lord Kenshin give it to her?

It was a nice shade.

He should warn Yocchi and Tsugutsugu. They were going to have more work now.

18. Namae.

The only people who knew Yakko’s actual name were Kanetsugu and Lord Kenshin. And no one asked her what her name was.

As if, if they did know, Yakko wouldn’t be one of them anymore.

It would be much more real that she was a she and not simply a beautiful man like Lord Kenshin. And happened to dress like a woman.

“Hey,”

“Yes, Kakki-san?”

“Your real name, what is it?”

Looking around and then gesturing him to lean down, it felt like she was telling him a secret.

Something private she was going to share just with him.

19. Nyuu.

It was dumb. It was no secret that Lord Kenshin was fond of Yakko. He doted on her constantly as evident by her growing collection of hair accessories and fine kimono. In addition to his habit to escaping the castle with her.

Lady Uesugi, they whispered in the halls. The rumors were flying around.

Before he didn’t pay attention to them, but these ones irked him.

Now he was downright irritated.

He wasn’t surprised by the fact that Lord Kenshin liked to do her hair.

It was the fact that he minded that surprised him.

It was just a hairstick.

20. Atsui.

Too hot to nap. Way too hot, even in the shade. Especially near the kitchen.

“Yakko,” He whined. From outside the kitchen, right where he could start to feel the heat. It was almost dinner time so it was hot from the flames.

“Yes?” Soft, but quick footsteps signaled her arrival.

… perhaps he shouldn’t have called her outside.

The sheen of sweat on her skin caught the setting sun’s light and there goes a drop down her neck and into… her… cleavage.

She looked good regardless of the weather.

“I want sweets.”

“After dinner if you’re still awake.”

21. Suki.

He wasn’t an idiot. He was very familiar with emotions contrary to what his comrades might think. He was a rather simple man. None of that complicated denial stuff.

The worst that could happen was Lord Kenshin taking offence in the scenario that she was his lover.

He might die.

But that was highly unlikely since she wasn’t the type to get retribution for anything.

Except messing with her kitchen.

“Kakki-san?”

He gestured to the spot beside him on the veranda and waited until she was seated.

“I love you.”

Oh, her surprised squeak was adorable. Along with that blush.

22. Aka.

“You can’t just say that!”

“I just did.”

He could wait until her stammered retorts ended. Except it didn’t look like she would be done anytime soon.

Softly, he called her name, putting a stop to her voice.

“I love you.” He repeated calmly. As calmly as he could with his heart thumping louder than usual. “I liked Yakko, now I love you.”

Well, her blush and attempt to hide behind her hands seemed like a good response.

It wasn’t a rejection yet.

“Well?”

“I… love you… too.”

“I can’t kiss you with your hands in the way.”

[sworntolight-a]

How a Pom runs things

Tagged by:  Still stolen from Kasa ( @soulburnings ) <3 Tagging: Grab it!

Blogs: This one; doing one for each active blog I own <3

SPEED: Moderate to slow-ish. This has been the (side)blog I spend most of my time on and the muses who own my attention the most, but if I slip up on replying right away to just one thread, it waterfalls into super slow and then a struggle to catch up. Generally I’m fastest with this blog, tho.

REPLIES: Since I love being descriptive and writing as a whole, I usually run with about 2-3 paragraphs per reply. That’s just my default mode. XD I never expect anyone to match my length tho, just as long as I’m not getting back 2-3 lines for a 2-3 paragraph post.

STARTERS: I usually write them for partners just because I’m free more often than ya’ll are? And I have no problem with that if it helps out <3 I don’t post opens or starter calls that often tho, because I like to keep things personalized to each partner - the girls aren’t going to react to say, a Miyu they’ve never the same they would to their best friend, for example. ...I’m also a bucket of anxiety and low self-esteem, which takes control a lot, unfortunately.

INBOX: Anon is off for personal reasons, but otherwise, my inbox is pretty much always open and a fast and easy way to start things with me and the girls! I love to do memes and get messages, but with how often tumblr loves to eat my messages, my not answering isn’t ignoring you, it’s literally tumblr eating my inbox. Sometimes I don’t get asks popping up until weeks later, and by then it feels awkward to answer it.

SELECTIVITY: Semi, for a lot of reasons. I deal with some heavy anxiety and depression alongside a bunch of other offline issues, so I tend to slide into a comfort bubble and not slide back out of it for long periods. I’m working on stepping out of it more often, but until then, that’s what the semi is for.

WISHLIST: Oh god do I ever want the girls to make more friends??? I want them to have friends, I want them to have gaming buddies and people to explore with and talk to and hang out with? I’m not interested in more ships past their canon ship with @soulburnings​, they need people to hang out with and duel and such?

HONEST NOTE: Hi there! I’m Lita/Pom, I’m autistic, and I love ygo and writing! <3 I’m a ball of harmless poof and love everyone who’s followed me, thank you so much <3