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thecuriousbeauty · 2 days ago

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Under His Watch-Part 1 (Harry Styles x reader)

Series synopsis: Y/N, an ambitious FBI intern, joins the homicide department, where she catches the eye of the brooding head detective, Harry Styles. As they tackle high-stakes cases together, Y/N uncovers a side of Harry no one else sees. Are they just boss and intern, or something more?

Word count: 9.1k

A/N:- Hello everyone, so sorry for being gone for a while, but I'm back with something new that I hope you guys will love! This is going to be a short, two part series so like it up and reblog so I can get the second part out soon!

Warnings: Talks of murder, drug dealings, killings, crime scenes, violence, usage of gun. No smut in this part, but definitely in the next;)

____________________________________________

The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden light through the open window. The air feels fresh, but with a touch of warmth that hints at the summer heat to come. Birds chirp in the distance, their songs a gentle reminder of the new day. A light breeze stirs the curtains, carrying the scent of flowers blooming outside.

In a small, cozy bedroom, y/n stands before her mirror. She fidgets with her clothes, unsure whether the outfit is too formal or too casual for her first day at work. She has seen agents usually wear suits, but she opted for a dark blue buttoned shirt and pants, because she was just starting as an intern. Her fingers tremble slightly as she adjusts her hair, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling inside her. Her heart races, each beat echoing the uncertainty of what’s to come.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The thought of the day ahead makes her stomach flutter—so many unknowns, so many new faces, and yet, the possibility of something great. She smiles at her reflection, trying to reassure herself. Beneath the jitters, there’s a spark—an energy that comes from stepping into something new, a sense of potential.

She checks the time and realizes she’s running a little late.The world outside is already awake, and so is she, ready to take on whatever her first day at work will bring.

Y/N doesn’t know when she decided to pursue a career as a detective. Maybe it was all the detective shows she used to watch with her father as a kid, or maybe it was the numerous novels she’d read. She loves the suspense, the mystery, and figuring out all the little clues. She loves the thrill of it. And now, as a result of her hard work and dedication, she has gotten into the FBI’s internship program.

The actual, Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The FBI building looms like a fortress in the heart of the city, its imposing, angular structure made of dark granite and steel. The air is thick with history and authority, as if the walls themselves hold the secrets of countless investigations. As she takes her detective steps through the sliding glass doors, the buzz of activity inside is palpable. Agents in suits walk briskly through the sleek, modern lobby, while the hum of conversation fills the space with a sense of purpose.

The hallways are lined with framed photos of notable cases and agents, a constant reminder of the legacy the building holds. The lighting is stark, the floors polished to a mirror shine, and the walls adorned with maps and classified files that hint at the work being done behind closed doors. It’s both overwhelming and exhilarating—this is where the nation’s most pressing cases unfold.

“Oh, Miss y/l/n, right on time!”, she hears before she sees none other than one of her superiors, part of the homicide department, Agent Eliza Carter. She had taken her interview. The woman held two coffees, and gave her the same kind smile she had given her that day.

“Good morning, Agent Carter!”

“Morning to you too. Sorry, I forgot to mention, you’ll be with homicide this month, probably another department for the next, and so on. Boss man’s just about to start the meeting, so come on quick!”

“Right. Do you know anything about the case?”

Her heels click behind her as she follows the agent, her eyes continuing to look around, absorbing everything around her.

“Oh yeah, this is actually an old case. A really annoying one, you’ll see. Harry will brief us anyway.”

Harry. Detective Agent Harry Styles.

Head of the homicide department, and one of the most renowned and respected figures in the field. His reputation precedes him: sharp, methodical, and almost legendary in his ability to solve cases that others can’t even begin to crack. She had heard stories about his brilliant mind, how he could piece together the smallest details that everyone else overlooked. The thought of getting to learn directly from him sends a rush of nervous energy through her veins.

“Can you get the door please?”, Eliza asks, and y/n quickly swings the glass door open for her, and then steps in herself, into the big room where there were around seven people gathered. All of them in matching suits, discussing amongst each other as they stared at the boards pinned with information about their cases.

“Everyone, this is y/n y/l/n, our new intern, she’s gonna be with us for this month!”, Eliza introduces, handing one of the coffees to a man, who also gives y/n a smile. “Hello, I’m Ethan Grant.”

The others also started introducing themselves, most of them friendly and smiling, two of them only giving her a nod, to which Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Styles running late?”, Agent Cole Matthews asks as he looks at his watch.

“I saw him getting a call, he had that face on.”, Nora says. She had short silver hair, and dark blue eyes, that looked like she would kill you if you pissed her off.

“Oh no, that can’t be good.”, Eliza shook her head.

“Face?”, y/n asks the girls who just smile at each other, Nora gives her a wink. “You’ll see.”

The door swings open with a quiet click, and Detective Harry Styles steps into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. Tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that fits just right, he exudes a quiet authority. His broad shoulders and confident stride catch the eye, but it’s his sharp jawline and the faint stubble along his chin that hint at a more rugged edge beneath his polished exterior.

His eyes—piercing, yet thoughtful—scan the room as he steps forward, his gaze pausing just long enough to meet each of their eyes, an unspoken understanding passing through the group. The way he moves is purposeful, the air around him almost charged with intensity, as if every step he takes is measured, calculated.

Then his eyes meet hers, eyebrows raising up in question. “New intern, boss.”, Ethan says.

She acts quickly to introduce herself, “I’m y/n, it’s such a pleasure to-”

“We’re still talking interns?”, he rudely cuts her off, and her lips seal shut at his tone.

“Yes we’re doing rotations this year, Harry, they must have given you a form to sign.”, Eliza said, and Harry let out a sigh, not even batting a single eye in y/n’s direction, turning around to the projector.

“Whatever. Let’s get to work, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

Y/N’s heart sinks. She’d imagined this moment so differently—she thought he’d at least say something encouraging, maybe give her a quick nod of acknowledgment. But instead, there’s only the cold, impersonal air of the office, and his complete disregard.

“We’re dealing with a 30-year-old man named Charles Russo. He's been on our radar before but slipped through the cracks. He’s involved in drug trafficking, but this isn’t just about drugs—it’s about control. He’s a key figure in a network that stretches across the city, and he’s responsible for at least three recent murders tied to his operations.”

A photograph of Russo appears on the projector screen—a mugshot from a previous arrest, his face hard and defiant, his eyes cold. Styles gestures to the image.

“This is our suspect. Russo has managed to stay under the radar for months, but he’s back in the game. We have intel from one of his associates that he’s been laying low, but now we’ve gotten wind of him resurfacing. We know he’s been making contact with his former contacts in the drug trade, and his movements have been tracked to the outskirts of the city.”

He pauses, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. The team leans forward, eyes narrowing as they take in every word.

“We can’t afford to let him slip away again,” Harry continues. “He’s ruthless. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way. The last time he disappeared, it took months for us to get any leads. We’re not going to make that mistake again.”

“So what’s the plan?”, Nora asks.

Harry points to a map on the wall. The area surrounding an old industrial district near the city’s border is highlighted in red.

“We’ve got a lead. A tip from an anonymous source says Russo is meeting with one of his suppliers here,” Harry explains, tapping the map. “We’ll be setting up surveillance teams around this location. We’re going to hit him where we know he feels comfortable. His old contacts will be there, and that’s our chance to bring him in.”

He looks at his team, making sure they understand the stakes. "This won't be easy. Russo knows how to cover his tracks, and he won't hesitate to go violent if he thinks he's cornered. I want everyone to stay sharp, no mistakes. We’ll have undercover agents in place, and our best tech team will be monitoring the area for any sign of movement.”

He glances at y/n, the intern who’s been quietly taking notes in the back. His voice softens just slightly, but still firm.

“You’re going to work with Carter and Grant to run background checks on Russo’s known associates. I want every detail—every business transaction, every phone call, every scrap of information you can dig up. It could be the key to finding him faster. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” She nods quickly, her mind racing. This is her chance to contribute, to prove herself, and she’s not about to let it slip away.

“Once we have enough intel, we move in. Fast, clean, and without hesitation. Our goal is to catch him off guard,” Harry finishes, his gaze sweeping over his team. “I expect everyone to be in sync. This guy has evaded us long enough. Let’s make sure it ends tonight.”

The room falls into a focused silence as everyone gets to work. The plan is set, and the wheels are already in motion.

Eliza shows y/n her desk, and Ethan quickly shows her all the technology, y/n didn’t need much explaining, she was familiar with it all. She had even taken up courses in coding and hacking.

Finally, it’s time to attack. Officers bustle around, adjusting their gear, making final checks on equipment, and running through last-minute details. The hum of radios, the clinking of handcuffs, and the soft rustling of jackets fill the air as the room feels like it’s on the verge of something big. y/n stands off to the side, a little on edge as she watches Harry gather the team for their final briefing. His green eyes scan the room with that characteristic sharpness, giving quick instructions to the officers heading to different positions.

With a deep breath, she approaches Harry as he finishes talking to Detective Logan Pierce. Her pulse quickens, and she straightens her shoulders. This is it.

“Detective Styles,” she begins, trying to keep her voice steady, “I was wondering if—if I could come along. I know I’m new, but I’ve been following everything closely, and I’m ready. I can help in any way I can.”

Harry looks at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. There’s a brief silence before he responds, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not ready for this kind of field work. This operation is too high-risk, and it’s not something you should be thrown into on your first day. I need you back here, where you can handle communication, and make sure we stay on track. You’ll be a key part of this, just not in the way you expect.”

She feels a small pang of disappointment, but it’s quickly replaced by a sense of clarity. He’s right. She’s still learning the ropes. The reality of the danger in the field is something she can’t ignore. But at the same time, the disappointment doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would. She’s still going to play a crucial role.

“Understood,” she says, nodding as she pushes her feelings aside. She can feel a sense of purpose rising in her chest. “I’ll stay in touch with the agents, make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll be ready to react if anything goes wrong.”

A flicker of approval crosses Harry’s face, though he doesn't show it fully. “Good luck!”, she can’t help but call out as Harry reaches for his own bullet proof suit and a hint of a smirk crosses his lips.

It was so brief, that she wondered if she had really seen it, or if she had imagined it.

The night is thick with tension as the operation unfolds, the air heavy with the weight of what’s at stake. Outside the industrial district, the team is in position, each agent hidden in shadows, waiting for the signal to move. Inside the precinct, y/n is stationed at her desk, headphones on, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tracks the operation. Her eyes are focused on the live feeds from the surveillance cameras set up around the district, her mind sharp and alert.

The plan is simple—surround Russo and catch him in the act. The agents are ready, but they need to stay in constant contact. That’s where she comes in. She’s the lifeline,watching the feeds, listening to their transmissions, and keeping them updated. She had earpieces connected to Harry and Cole, who had teams on both doors of the warehouse.

Through the earpiece, the voice of Agent Logan Pierce crackles to life. “y/l/n,we’re about to move in on Russo. He’s on the move—heading toward the south side of the warehouse. We need a visual confirmation. Is he coming into our range?”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest, but she keeps her voice steady. “Got him. He’s moving east toward the rear entrance. You’ve got about thirty seconds before he reaches the blind spot. You need to move fast.”

“Copy that,” Pierce responds. “We’re moving in now.”

y/n watches the screen, heart racing as she tracks Russo’s every step, eyes darting between the surveillance feeds and the map on her screen. Every second feels like an eternity. She checks her watch, counts the seconds in her head. Then, suddenly, he disappeared.

“Shit.”, she says, trying to figure out where the piece of shit is headed now.

“I hope I didn’t just hear you say shit while monitoring one of the most important cases, newbie.”, she hears Agent Styles, and her cheeks redden a little bit, but she focuses on the task.

“Sorry, you need to wait, Agent Pierce, I’ve lost him.”

“You’ve lost him? What do you mean? He’s right here-”

“-No, I think..I think he’s coming around from the other door. Agent Styles?”

He answers immediately while y/n works on a way to monitor Russo again, “Yes, are you sure it’s not a connectivity problem or-.”

“I think he’s on your side.”

“Oh yeah? That mother fucker. Guys, close in.”

“Wait, y/n, are you sure? Cause this might be the last chance we have to get him and one mistake-”, Cole begins, a little unsure.

The image on the monitor shifts—Russo steps into the frame.

“Agent Styles, he’s about to break through—wait for it—now!”

The moment she speaks, Harry and the rest of the team spring into action. They converge on Russo in a synchronized move, cutting off his escape route before he can even react. There’s a flurry of movement, the sound of boots pounding on the ground, and then, within seconds, Russo is tackled to the ground, handcuffed and subdued.

A burst of static fills her earpiece, followed by Harry’s voice. “We got him. He’s down. Nice work, y/n. You nailed it.”

He called her by her name for the first time and the compliment made her heart race in a way she hadn’t expected. She blinks, her breath catching in her throat. Styles—the man she had been eager to impress—had just complimented her, and it felt like everything she’d hoped for.

“Thanks,” she replies, trying to keep her composure. “I just did what I could.”

“Well you’re the first newbie to actually not piss me off on their first day. You can go home, y/n, enough for the day. We’ll bring him in.”

Y/N exhales slowly, a rush of adrenaline flooding her veins. Her hands shake just a little as she removes her headset, a smile creeping up her face. They did it. They caught Russo, and she was the one who helped make it happen. For the first time since walking into this precinct, she feels like she truly belongs.

___________________________________________________

Over the next few days, she really fit in with the team members. She especially loved talking with the girls, Nora and Eliza. They’re laughing about the latest office drama—how Agent Matthews accidentally spilled coffee all over Harry’s favorite jacket this morning.

“I swear, it’s like he doesn’t even notice how clumsy he is,” Nora says, shaking her head with a grin. “But Styles—he’s always so cool, never says a word. You’d think he’d be fuming after that.”

y/n chuckles, feeling more at ease in their company. "I bet he was just silently judging him in that typical Styles way. You know the look I'm talking about, right?"

Eliza laughs, leaning in. “Oh, absolutely. The silent judgment is his trademark. But I’m surprised he didn’t rip Pierce a new one.”

y/n finds herself grinning at the camaraderie, feeling like she’s starting to fit into the team’s dynamic. It’s easy, the way they talk, tease, and laugh together.

She decides to stay back a little longer that day, her eyes skim through the pages—cold cases from years ago, some unsolved, others with only the vaguest of leads. She’s been digging into them to understand the bigger picture of how the team operates, trying to learn from the cases they’ve solved, and the ones they’ve left behind.

Her focus is interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She looks up to see Harry, his coat over his arm and his briefcase in hand. He stops a few steps away, his gaze lingering on the pile of files she’s working through.

Her gaze lingered on his arm, his sleeve rolled up enough for the ink on his forearm to peek through. She could see the dark outline of a tattoo—a design she’d never noticed before—curving around his wrist and disappearing beneath the cuff of his shirt. The way the ink curled around his skin made her wonder how many more he had hidden beneath his clothes.

She couldn’t help but admire the way his sleeves clung to his muscular arms, the sharp lines of his body defining his form. His green eyes were a striking contrast to his skin, deep and captivating. They always seemed to hold a quiet storm, a vulnerability masked behind his professional exterior. The way his curls fell around his forehead, slightly unruly, added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise polished look.

There was something magnetic about his distinct features, something that caught her attention all the time.

“You’re still here?” he asks, voice quiet, as if genuinely surprised she hasn’t already left for the day. There’s something in his tone that feels different, not judgmental, but more... curious. Maybe even a little approving.

y/n clears her throat, trying not to seem too caught up in the files. “Yeah. Just trying to catch up on some of the old cases. Figured it’s a good way to learn how you all approach things.”

Harry studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before setting his briefcase down and taking a few steps closer. “You’ve got the right idea. We learn a lot from the cases we didn’t solve. The ones that slip through our fingers.”

She nods, feeling the weight of the truth in his words. “I’ve noticed that. Some of these cases... they’re so close to being solved, but there’s always one missing piece.” She pauses, flipping to a specific file that’s particularly puzzling. “What do you think about this one? A string of disappearances in a small town, no evidence left behind. It’s like they just vanished.”

Harry glances down at the file she’s holding, leaning over slightly, his voice low and contemplative. “Sometimes it’s not the evidence you’re looking for, but the pattern behind it. Whoever did this knew how to cover their tracks. But if you look at the people involved—especially the families, the connections between them—you might find something that doesn’t belong.”

“Thanks for that,” she says, her voice more sincere than usual. “I wasn’t sure if I was overthinking it.”

Harry gives a small, almost imperceptible smile, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a little. “You’re thinking in the right direction. Just keep pushing yourself. That’s how we get better at this job.”

She smiles in return, feeling a little more confident in her approach. Harry glances at his watch, then looks back at her. “Well, if you’re going to keep at it, you’ll need a little company. I was planning to head out, but it’s quieter here than usual.”

y/n looks up in surprise. “You’re staying?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Not really,” he says, his tone dry, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Just thought I’d walk you out. It’s late. Wouldn’t want you to be walking to your car alone.”

Her surprise morphs into a small, grateful smile. “That’s... considerate of you. Thanks.”

He offers a slight nod, then gestures toward the door. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.”

The two of them walk out together, the quiet hum of the office behind them. Outside, the evening air is crisp, the sky darkening as they make their way across the parking lot.

As they approach their cars, y/n hesitates for a moment, then turns to him. “You’ve been doing this for a long time, huh? The whole... detective thing. How do you keep from getting burned out?”

Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle of his car. He looks at her, his expression momentarily distant, as if reflecting on the years of work behind him.

“It’s not about not getting burned out,” he says quietly, “It’s about finding what keeps you going. Whether it’s the people you work with or the cases that pull you in, you have to find something that reminds you why you do it.”

y/n nods, absorbing his words as they linger in the cool air between them.

With that, he starts his engine and pulls away, leaving y/n standing in the quiet parking lot for a moment. She watches his car disappear down the road, wondering what led him into pursuing this career.

___________________________________________

The next day, the guys are gathered around a table near the bullpen, eyes glued to a sports game playing on the office TV. The game is close, Ethan and Cole are already arguing over who’s going to win the match.

“Come on, you’re seriously betting on them?” Ethan snorts, shaking his head. “They’ve been playing like amateurs.”

y/n can’t help but overhear, the playful banter catching her attention. She’s not usually one for sports, but she’s been learning the ropes from her fellow agents. She knows enough to get by, and today, something about the challenge calls to her.

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite,” she says, walking over with a raised eyebrow. “How much are we betting here?”

Ethan looks up, surprised, then grins. “Didn’t think you’d be interested, y/n. You sure you know what you’re getting into?”

She smirks, her confidence growing. “I’m a quick learner. I’ll take your bet. I’m putting my money on the underdogs.”

Cole raises an eyebrow. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. This’ll be fun.”

As the game continues, the guys teasingly rib her for her risky bet, but y/n holds her ground, getting increasingly into the match. When the underdogs actually pull off the win, she’s the first one to stand up, pumping her fist in victory.

“Told you,” she says, beaming with pride as the guys groan good-naturedly. “Pay up, gentlemen.��

“Yes, we’ll be there soon, got it.” They all look up at the sound of their boss, who comes into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Murder scene in Oak Drive, let’s go.”, Harry tells them, and everyone gets onto their feet, getting ready to go.

y/n goes to her desk as usual, knowing she’ll be given the duty of doing the background checks.

“Who’re you riding with Styles?”, Logan asks him.

Harry straps on his gun, and looks at y/n. “Can you drive?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Come on, then, newbie, let’s go to your first murder scene.”

y/n almost squealed with joy, jumping up in excitement, but then toned it down as Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her answer.

“Yes sir, right away.”

The car ride is quiet, with a subtle tension between them, an unspoken understanding, a quiet connection that neither has acknowledged. y/n's fingers tighten around the steering wheel as they approach the crime scene. He can’t help but steal a glance at y/n—she’s focused, eyes sharp, her thoughts clearly already at the scene ahead.

“You aren’t gonna faint, are you?”, Harry asks, breaking the silence. “Cause one of the interns did, seeing all the blood.”

She laughed lightly. “Nope, I’m excited, and I’m good with blood.”

“Good.”, Harry lets a small smile escape, and she pulls over to the crime scene. The other agents have already reached and are doing their allotted work.

"Alright, you’ll handle the photos for now. We’ll take care of the rest."

Y/N nods, grabbing her camera from the seat beside her, trying to steady her nerves. She’s been given more responsibility lately, and with Harry’s subtle support, she’s been slowly gaining confidence.

"Got it. I'll make sure to get everything."

As she moves closer to the crime scene, Y/N kneels by the body, snapping photos of the surroundings. Her heart beats a little faster as she works, but the adrenaline feels good. And while the scene before her is dark, there’s something about Harry’s quiet faith in her that makes her feel capable. She captures the details—each angle, each small clue—as if she’s been doing this for years. She steals a glance back at Harry, catching him watching her from a distance. For a moment, she wonders if he sees something more than just a hard-working intern.

As the team works around her, Harry steps away briefly to speak with the others, but his eyes flick back to her every so often. Y/N can feel it—his attention on her, the weight of it—but for now, she’s focused on her task. Still, there’s a strange pull between them, unspoken, but undeniable, lingering in the air like the tension of the scene itself.

Harry wants to leave soon, to talk to someone and take y/n with him, this time, he drives. As they pull away from the crime scene, Harry’s eyes are focused on the road, but his mind is already on the next step. Y/N’s still processing everything they’ve seen.

“So, what’s your take on this case so far?"

Y/N pauses, glancing up at him. She can tell he’s genuinely interested in her opinion.

“I think the victim knew the killer. Too many personal details for it to be random, but the motive’s still unclear."

Harry nods thoughtfully. "I agree. That’s why I’m going to talk to the first suspect now. Stay sharp—this could get tricky."

Y/N feels a small thrill at his trust in her judgment. It’s not just about the case anymore; it’s the way he values her input. As they drive toward the suspect’s location, she wonders if he’s giving her more responsibility on purpose, or if it’s just part of the job. Either way, it feels like a step forward.

After questioning the suspect, Harry and Y/N head back to the office, the car cutting through the quiet streets. Y/N’s mind is still on the conversation with the suspect, but then..her stomach growls loudly.

Harry glances over at her, his eyes sharp but gentle.

"Did you eat anything this morning?"

Y/N flushes slightly, trying to keep her cool, but the guilt is written all over her face.

"Yeah, I—"

"You didn’t eat, did you?"

Y/N shifts uncomfortably.

"I’m fine, really."

Harry sighs, shaking his head with a small smile."We’re making a stop. You’re getting something to eat. I know a good taco place.”

He turns the car off the main road, pulling into a small taco place. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh tortillas drifts through the air as they step out, and Harry opens the door for her, his usual professionalism replaced with a kind of care.

As they sit at a small booth, Y/N digs into her food, finally letting herself relax. Harry watches her for a moment, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. After a few bites, she glances up at him.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you always so grumpy? You’re like... a walking storm cloud sometimes."

Harry chokes on his drink a little, caught off guard by her boldness. He laughs—genuinely, with a surprised smile that softens his usually serious face.

He chuckles and wipes his mouth. "Grumpy? I’m not grumpy. I’m just... focused."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Focused, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?"

Harry shrugs, his smirk turning wry, clearly amused by her bluntness."Okay, maybe I’m a little grumpy. But someone’s gotta keep this place in line. You can’t just go around smiling all the time like everything’s sunshine and rainbows."

Y/N laughs, and for a second, their eyes meet. There’s an ease between them now, something playful, yet still with an undercurrent of something deeper. Harry’s usual walls are lower, and Y/N’s teasing is making him more human in her eyes.

"I don’t know, sometimes I think it wouldn’t hurt to see you smile a little more. Just... not at the crime scene, please."

Harry chuckles again, and it’s the kind of laugh that feels lighter than usual—almost as if he doesn’t mind sharing this side of himself with her.

"I’ll try. But no promises.", he says with a soft smirk.Y/N found herself grinning as she saw his dimples poke out. She hadn’t realized how much she loved seeing that little dimple until now, how it made him look so much more... approachable.

After a few more bites, she glances up at him. "Why did you want to be a detective, Agent Styles?"

The question lingers in the air. Harry’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth, and for a moment, there’s a heaviness between them. "Because I lost someone who mattered. My sister... she was murdered by some people when we were younger. I couldn’t sit by, not after that."

Y/N’s breath catches, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes—his calm demeanor betraying a history of loss that runs deep. It’s the first time she’s seen him so vulnerable, so open.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know.", she says quietly.

Harry shrugs, with a distant look in his eyes,"It’s alright. It’s been a long time... but it’s why I do this. It’s why I never give up on a case. To make sure no one else has to go through that."

There’s a pause, and Y/N feels the weight of his words sink in. She reaches out, placing her hand gently on his. The warmth of the moment takes them both by surprise. He appreciates the gesture, thumb ever so softly stroking a line on the back of her hand.

“You can call me Harry by the way, when we’re not at work.”, he says to lighten the air, and she smiles, drawing her hand back. “Okay.”

Little did she know that Harry had told her something that no one else knew about him.

________________________________________________________

The precinct is buzzing with its usual morning chaos, the air thick with the noise of phones ringing, officers discussing cases, and the sound of feet shuffling across the floors. y/n is at her desk, flipping through some case files, trying to focus. She’s about to make another note, when she hears the unmistakable sound of Ethan and Eliza approaching her desk, their voices carrying through the room in a familiar, teasing tone.

“Well, well, y/n, looks like you’ve caught Styles’ attention,” Ethan says with a playful grin, sliding into the seat across from her. He leans back, crossing his arms, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

y/n looks up, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Eliza raises an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, come on. We’ve all seen it. Harry doesn’t usually make time for anyone. But you—" she motions between the two of them, “—you got breakfast with him this morning. He doesn’t do that unless he’s got a soft spot.”

Eliza’s cheeks flush slightly. She opens her mouth to protest, but Ethan cuts her off.

“We’re just saying, Harry’s usually all business, right? But with you—” he gestures with a wink, “he’s practically a different guy. You must be special.”

y/n can’t help but laugh awkwardly, trying to brush it off. Yes, they had eaten breakfast together that morning, because both of them happened to arrive early to the office. “You guys are ridiculous. We just had breakfast. He saw me sitting alone and he was just being... well, Harry.”

But they aren’t buying it. Eliza smirks, leaning forward. “Right, Harry just casually opens up to you about his deepest, darkest secrets over a bagel. We’re all jealous, you know.”

y/n shakes her head, a little embarrassed, but also secretly amused. “Okay, okay, I get it. He’s not a softie, I swear.”

Ethan grins, clearly enjoying teasing her. “Sure, sure. But just wait until the next big case. When he pulls you aside to give you a ‘confidential’ briefing, we’ll be here, dying of curiosity.”

y/n sighs, trying not to laugh as she adjusts the papers in front of her. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m still the intern, remember?”

Eliza raises her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what we’re talking about. We all saw the way Harry looked at you when he was complimenting you yesterday. Like... he actually noticed your contribution for once.”

At that, y/n’s face goes a little redder, but she can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. “He just—well, he just doesn’t say much. When he does, it’s kind of a big deal.”

Ethan chuckles, leaning in closer. “Yeah, we’ve noticed. Harry doesn’t exactly dish out compliments like candy. And if he says you’re doing good work? That’s... noteworthy.”

y/n laughs nervously, feeling a little overwhelmed by their teasing, but she’s also secretly flattered. She’s always admired Harry—his skill, his mind, the way he commands respect from everyone around him—and to hear that they’ve noticed the shift in his behavior, even in the smallest ways, makes her feel like she’s on the right track.

“Alright, alright, enough. You’ve got me all figured out,” y/n says, trying to play it off cool. “But don’t go getting any ideas. He’s still Harry Styles.”

“Sure, sure,” Eliza says, winking. “But we’ll be keeping an eye on you two.”

As they walk away, leaving her to her work, y/n smiles to herself, a warm feeling spreading in her chest. She wasn’t sure if Harry really had a soft spot for her, but just knowing that she’d earned a little of his respect—enough for the team to notice—felt like a win. Maybe she wasn’t just the intern anymore. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to become something more.

______________________________________________

y/n has been busy lately. She passed her detective training exam but the theory exam wasn’t over yet, so she was preparing for that, along with managing the work she had been assigned at the FBI. It’s nearly midnight when Harry walks into the office, his eyes scanning the darkened room before landing on Y/N. He spots her hunched over her desk, staring at the screen, her tired eyes squinting in the dim light. By now he knows she’s a hard worker, but what really hits him is how late it’s gotten—and how she hasn’t stopped working.

Harry’s voice is tight with concern, trying to mask his frustration."Y/N, what the hell are you still doing here?"

Y/N looks up, startled, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard as she blinks at him, trying to hide the exhaustion on her face.

"Just finishing up some things... It’s not that late."

He sternly walks closer. "It’s midnight. You should be home, resting. This can wait until tomorrow."

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look on his face stops her. She’s used to his seriousness, but there’s something more here—something that’s not just about the case.

His voice softens, but still firm."You’re not invincible, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself."

Y/N sighs, glancing back at the stack of files on her desk, torn between wanting to finish everything and knowing she’s pushing herself too hard.

"I’m fine, Harry. Really. I just want to get this done."

Harry’s frustration slips through as he says, "No, you’re not fine. You’ve been at this for hours, and you’re running on empty. I’m not leaving until you get some rest."

Y/N meets his eyes, seeing the genuine concern there, but also the subtle edge of worry in his features. She opens her mouth to protest again, but Harry doesn’t give her the chance.

Harry grabs her bag from the desk. "Come on. You’re getting in the car, and I’m taking you home."

She hesitates for a moment, but Harry’s serious enough that she knows there’s no point in arguing.

She grabs her things and follows him out of the office. The rain is coming down hard now, the city streets glistening under the dim streetlights. Harry opens the door for her, holding out an umbrella as they step out into the downpour.

They don’t speak at first, the quiet of the night surrounding them, just the soft patter of rain as they walk to his car. Once inside, the silence between them feels comfortable, but Harry keeps glancing at her, concern still etched on his face.

Harry breaks the silence."You sure you’re okay? You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately."

“I’m fine, my detective exam is soon, I just really wanna make it.”

“You will, you’ve already passed the physical. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about making it, the exam’s gonna be very easy for you.”

She lets out a soft exhale, those words making her feel a little better. After all, he had gone through all of this. “Are you gonna apply to work here?”

“Yes, I think this is where I wanna work. Not sure about the department though, I still have other rotations. I’m going to be with foreign affairs next week.”

Harry gasps in hurt, glancing over at her. “You don’t wanna be in homicide? Is it because I’m grumpy?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s not you, Harry.. And I love homicide, the thrill is amazing! It’s just that I still have other departments to experience, you know, that’s what an internship is for.”

“Believe me, you aren’t gonna find any other department as interesting as this. But yes, you’re right. You have time to decide.”

The rest of the drive is mostly quiet, just the sound of the rain tapping on the windshield. When they finally reach her flat, Harry pulls up to the curb, parking the car in front of the building. He looks over at her, his voice quiet, with that same concern in it.

"You sure you’ll be okay getting inside? It’s late, and it’s still raining pretty bad."

Y/N nods, though she can’t hide the weariness in her eyes."Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride, Harry."

He doesn’t move, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something more, but instead, he opens his door and steps out, walking around the car to open hers.

He holds the umbrella over her as they step out into the rain, his arm wrapping around her back and her arm as he keeps her close and they walk side by side toward her building. The air is cool, and the rain falls steadily, but there’s something about the closeness of the moment that makes it feel almost intimate.

When they reach her door, Harry stops, looking at her with that same quiet intensity. "You’re getting some sleep tonight. No excuses."

Y/N can’t help but smile at his persistence, the kind of care that’s always just under the surface of his gruff exterior."I promise. I’ll get some rest."

Harry doesn’t move immediately, his gaze lingering on her face. There’s an almost unspoken weight in the air now, a subtle shift between them. Without thinking, Y/N reaches out and touches his arm, her fingers brushing against his sleeve.

“Thanks for everything, Harry. Really."

His eyes flicker down to where her hand rests on his arm, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. Slowly, he lifts his free hand, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingers for a second longer than necessary, and Y/N feels her heart race at the intimacy of it.

His voice is low, and a bit hoarse."Anytime. You don’t have to thank me."

The tension between them lingers in the rain-soaked air. Harry steps back, holding the umbrella just a little closer to her to shield her from the downpour. Then he whispers softly, "Sleep well, Y/N."

He gives her a soft smile before turning to leave. Y/N watches him walk away, her heart still fluttering from the small but meaningful moments they’ve shared. The rain still falls, but in that quiet moment, everything feels a little different—like they’ve crossed a line, even if just for a moment.

As she walks into her apartment, she can’t help but replay his words and the feeling of his touch, knowing that whatever happens next, something between them has changed.

_____________________________________________

Y/N enters the quarters, the soft click of the door barely audible as she steps inside. The usual hum of chatter and playful teasing is absent, replaced by an air of tension that hangs thick in the room. Her eyes quickly scan the group of agents—none of them in their usual good-natured moods, all absorbed in their own thoughts. Something’s off.

Her gaze lands on Harry, talking quietly with someone behind his glass office door. He looks serious, his posture rigid, eyes narrowed as if he’s deep in conversation about something important. Y/N walks to Nora who’s sitting at her desk, the usual casual grin replaced by a solemn expression.

"Hey, what’s going on? Why’s everyone so serious today?"

The agent looks up. "We got a lead on the Rotherl case. Word is, he has a fourth hostage with him. Cole and Eliza managed to track down where he should be right now and we’re just waiting on Harry’s word to go.”

“A fourth hostage?”, she gasps. She wasn’t part of the team during the investigation of the Rothel murders but she had read up all about it. He was one of the most wanted men, who kidnapped his victims before killing them. He had already killed three innocent people, leaving no traces behind him. If they had a lead on him, that was amazing.

She glances toward Harry’s office, where he’s still deep in conversation, his jaw clenched. Before she can ask more, the door opens, and Harry steps out, his sharp gaze scanning the room. “Let’s go, everyone. I’ve called for backup. Matthews, Carter, good job. Now let’s wrap this up.”

“This mother fucker has had enough of a run.”, Eliza mutters, strapping on her bullet proof west and tossing the other to her partner.

Y/N’s been with the team for weeks now, and in that time, Harry’s allowed her to tag along when things got tense, letting her learn the ropes. She can’t imagine being left behind on something so big, not now.

She grabs her things, ready to move with the team, but Harry catches her before she gets too far, his lean fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Not this time, Y/N.", he says, his voice firm, with no room for negotiation.

Y/N freezes, her heart sinking at his words. She’s about to protest, but she catches the look in his eyes—a mix of concern and something else she can’t quite place. She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Come on, Harry. I’ve been with you through worse. You know I can handle it."

“It’s not about how much you can handle, y/n. This is a mad man, and you don’t even have a gun to defend yourself.”

“But I’m trained to fight, and I can use a gun if someone throws it to me-”

“-y/l/n.”, Harry cuts her off with his classic stern face. She hasn’t gotten her gun license yet, she’ll get that only after she becomes an agent after her exams, but she’s already done with all her training. He’s trying to protect her, she realizes. Still, she won’t back down so easily.

"You can’t keep me in the dark. I want to be there with you guys.”, she says firmly.

Harry stares at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers as if weighing the risk. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

He reluctantly agrees. "Fine. You can come. But you stay in the car. Understood?"

Y/N’s heart skips, but she hides her smile, knowing she’s won this small battle. She nods, her voice determined.

"Understood.”

Harry studies her for a moment longer, as if trying to gauge if she’s really going to stick to her word. When he finally nods, there’s something like relief in his eyes, mixed with the ever-present worry that seems to linger with him.

"Good. But if you step one foot out of that car, I swear I’ll drag your ass back inside myself.”

Y/N chuckles lightly, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of something unspoken. “Got it, sir.”

As Harry turns to lead the team out, Y/N follows behind, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling inside her. This was more than just another case. It was a dangerous one, and she was in it, even if only on the sidelines.

“Here, y/n, put this on.”, Ethan comes to her with a bullet proof vest just like everyone else’s. She didn’t think she’d need one sitting in the car, but she put it on, not wanting to start another argument with an agent.

They pile into the cars, the tension in the air thick as they head toward the high-risk location. Y/N’s fingers tap nervously on her lap as she watches Harry in the rearview mirror, his eyes already set on the mission ahead, and she can’t help but feel, even in the midst of everything, that tonight could change something between them.

The car rolled to a stop a few blocks from the dilapidated building. The air outside felt damp from the rain that had just stopped falling, but the tension was thick, and the city streets seemed unusually silent, despite the flashing lights of squad cars surrounding the area.

Y/N leaned forward in the passenger seat, her eyes glued to the building in front of them. The usual lighthearted banter between the team was gone.She could see Harry’s figure through the windshield as he stepped out of the car, his dark coat flaring behind him like a shadow as he walked toward the rest of the team.

She saw the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his body was braced for the weight of what they were about to face. His focus was sharper tonight, sharper than usual. He was already in the thick of it, mentally preparing for what could be a deadly confrontation.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the seat, but she stayed silent. Harry moved with precision, the rest of the team falling in behind him as they gathered around him. The air between them was charged, the kind of energy that only came when everything was on the line.

She heard Harry’s calm voice through his earpiece, “Position yourselves around the building. No one moves unless I give the word.”

Y/N nodded along with the rest of the team, even though Harry couldn’t see it. Her heart hammered in her chest as her gaze shifted from Harry to the building—dark and looming against the city skyline. She could barely make out the figure standing in the doorway.

It was Rothel. The man who had committed violent crimes. And now, he was holding someone else hostage.

Y/N exhaled slowly, gripping the seat tighter. The girl in the doorway, only a teenager by the looks of it, was standing frozen in place, her face pale with fear. Rothel had a gun to her forehead, and she heard him yell out something, but couldn’t make out what it was. Harry raised a hand to the rest of the team, signalling them to hold off.

She could hear Harry. “Rothel, listen to me. Let her go. We don’t need any more bloodshed. Just put the gun down.”

She couldn’t see Harry’s face from the car, but Y/N knew how carefully he must have been approaching the situation. His voice never cracked, but there was an undercurrent of urgency there—just enough to show he was trying to negotiate without pushing Rothel over the edge.

The earpiece crackled with static, and then Rothel’s voice, sharp and filled with fury, came through.

Rothel growled. “I don’t want to hear your deals. If you don’t back the fuck off, I’ll shoot her right here.”

Y/N’s hands went ice-cold. The air in the car felt thick, suffocating. She swallowed hard, wishing there was something she could do, some way she could help, but all she could do was watch—wait—and pray that Harry could talk him down.

Harry’s voice came again, steady and unwavering.

“You don’t want to do this, Rothel. Let her go. We can work something out. Just... put the gun down. It’s not too late.”

Y/N’s eyes were fixed on the building as the tension in the air grew heavier. There was a shift, a subtle movement at one of the upper windows. She squinted, her heart dropping as she realized the figure there wasn’t just an observer—he was armed, and his sights were set on Harry.

Her breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she saw the man preparing to act. Without thinking twice, Y/N grabbed her earpiece, trying to warn the others, but there was no time for that. The danger was too immediate.

She threw open the car door, barely pausing before sprinting toward the building. Every step was fueled by a sense of urgency, her mind racing. She couldn’t let him hurt Harry.

Y/N reached the back of the building and found a staircase leading up. She didn’t hesitate as she ascended quickly, her heart thumping in her chest. At the top, she paused, ears straining for any sound—anything that would give away the shooter’s position.

There, at the far end of the hallway, the man stood, oblivious to Y/N’s approach. She didn’t think, she just moved. Silent and quick, she rushed toward him, tackling him off balance. They hit the ground, but the struggle wasn’t over.

“Move out of my way unless you want me to kill you, bitch.”, he growled.

“Oh you can try.”, she growled back.

The man pushed back, trying to regain his footing, but Y/N used every ounce of her strength to keep him down. He fought back, his hands grabbing at her, but she was faster—more determined.

In the chaos, she was struck hard, sending her crashing into the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the growing pain. She couldn’t let him get to Harry. He needed to save that girl.

She heard gun shots from below and something that sounded like a cry of relief from the hostage, then she heard Harry’s voice through her fallen earpiece. “He’s down, great job team.” She made the mistake of letting her guard down for one second, in relief, and that’s when the man managed to rise to his feet and point the gun at her.

She heard Harry’s voice again, through her earpiece, now panicked. “Y/N, where are you? Answer me.”

Her vision swam from the dizziness, but she forced herself to focus. The man looked down and groaned in frustration. y/n laughed. “Guess your little plan didn’t work out, huh?”

“It was a good plan, now it’s all ruined because of you. Did you think I was joking when I said I’d kill you?”

“Y/N?”, she heard footsteps and Harry’s voice.

“Harry!”, she called back, panic starting to rise in her chest. The gun was pointed at her, so she couldn’t risk moving.

Harry points his own gun at the man. “Put it down right now, you sick bastard.”

y/n closed her eyes as she heard two shots fire at the same time. Then she heard a big thud. Suddenly, there was pain shooting through her body. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else—disbelief, confusion, and the shock of what had just happened.

She had been shot.

She was brought back from her dazed state by Harry’s panicked, almost broken, voice, “Y/N, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay..don’t worry, o-okay?”

She could hear the crack in his voice, the fear that only came when someone was truly scared of losing someone they cared about. Her heart fluttered weakly in her chest at the realization. Her thoughts weren’t on the blood soaking her arm or the pain threatening to consume her. They were on Harry. He was here. He was with her. And as she fought to keep her eyes open, the last thing she heard was him calling her name, desperately holding onto her in the chaos of it all.

____________________________________________

Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise@hermionelove @mayalove014 @vikiii07

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greenwitchcrafts · 4 months ago

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October 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: October 2nd

First Quarter: October 10th

Full moon: October 17th

Last Quarter: October 24th

Sabbats: Samhain- October 31st-November 1st

October Hunter's Moon

Also known as: Blood Moon, Drying Rice Moon, Falling leaf Moon, Freezing Moon, Harvest Moon, Migration Moon, Moon of the Changing Season, Sanguine Moon,, Shedding Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Winterfelleth & Windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirts: Frost Faeries & Plant Faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia,apple, cypress & yew

Herbs: Angelica, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & uva ursi

Flowers: Apple blossom, calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, obsidian, opal, sapphire, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, blue, dark blue, blue-green & purple

Issues, intentions & powers: Cooperation, darkness, divination, healing & hope

Energy: Artistic works, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

The Harvest Moon is the full Moon that occurs nearest to the autumnal equinox date (September 22, 2024). This means that either September or October’s full Moon may take on the name “Harvest Moon” instead of its traditional name. Similarly, the Hunter’s Moon is the first full Moon to follow the Harvest Moon, meaning it can occur in either October or November.

The Harvest Moon & the Hunter’s Moon are unique in that they are not directly related to this folklore or restricted to a single month. Instead, they are tied to an astronomical event: the autumnal equinox!

• October’s full Hunter Moon orbits closer to Earth than any of the other full Moons this year, making one of the four supermoons of 2024! As the Moon drifts over the horizon around sunset, it may appear larger & more orange—how perfect for the fall season!

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer & other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes & wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

Samhain

Known as: Ancestor's night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmass, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios & Shadowfest

Season: Autumn

Element: Water

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom, black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/Incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, bear, boar, cat, cattle & dog

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, bras, carnelian, clear quartz, diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, onyx, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Food: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corn, nuts, fruit, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, allspice, angelica, besom, catnip, corn, deadly nightshades, dittany of Crete, fumitory, garlic, mandrake, mugwort, mullein, oak leaves, patchouli, reed, rosemary, rue, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle & wormwood

Flowers: Calendula, chrysanthemum & heather

Trees: Apple, beech, buckthorn, hazel, pine, locust, pomegranate, willow, witch hazel, yellow cedar & yew

Magical: Faeries

Goddesses: Al-Lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Mania, The Morrigan, Nemisis & Nicneven

Gods: Arawn, Baron Samede, Chronus,The Dagda, Dis, Hades, Nefertum, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honor, introspection, otherworldly/underworld, release, visions & wisdom

Activities:

•Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse yourself with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Host or attend a bonfire

• Leave offerings for the Sídhe

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins, turnips or apples

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is about halfway between the autumnal equinox & winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals along with Imbolc, Beltane, & Lughnasa. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland, & the Isle of Man.

Samhain is believed to have Celtic pagan origins & some Neolithic passage tombs in Great Britain & Ireland are aligned with the sunrise at the time of Samhain. It is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature, from the 9th century & is associated with many important events in Irish mythology.

The early literature says great gatherings & feasts marked Samhain when the ancient burial mounds were open, which were seen as portals to the Otherworld. Some of the literature also associates Samhain with bonfires & sacrifices.

• According to Irish mythology, Samhain (like Beltane) was a time when the 'doorways' to the Otherworld opened, allowing supernatural beings and the souls of the dead to come into our world; while Beltane was a summer festival for the living, Samhain "was essentially a festival for the dead".

•The festival was not recorded in detail until the early modern era. It was when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures & livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit, which were deemed to have protective & cleansing powers.

At Samhain, the aos sí were appeased with offerings of food & drink to ensure the people & livestock survived the winter. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality & a place was set at the table for them during a meal. Divination was also a big part of the festival & often involved nuts & apples.

Mumming & guising were part of the festival from at least the early modern era, whereby people went door-to-door in costume, reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating & disguising oneself from the aos sí.

• In the late 19th century, John Rhys and James Frazer suggested it had been the "Celtic New Year", but that is disputed.

Some believe it is the time of The Goddess' mourning the death of The God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess' sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival or cold weather.

Related festivals:

• Halloween( October 31st)-

In popular culture, the day has become a celebration of horror, being associated with the macabre and supernatural.

•One theory holds that many Halloween traditions were influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain, which are believed to have pagan roots. Some go further & suggest that Samhain may have been Christianized as All Hallow's Day, along with its eve, by the early Church. Other academics believe Halloween began solely as a Christian holiday, being the vigil of All Hallow's Day.

Popular Halloween activities include trick-or-treating (or the related guising & ghouling), attending Halloween costume parties, carving pumpkins or turnips into jack-o'-lanterns, lighting bonfires, apple bobbing, divination games, playing pranks, visiting haunted attractions, telling scary stories, & watching horror or Halloween-themed films

• Day of the Dead(November 1st-2nd)-

el Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos

The multi-day holiday involves family & friends gathering to pay respects & to remember friends & family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember amusing events & anecdotes about the departed. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed, and is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage.

•The observance falls during the Christian period of Allhallowtide.

Traditions connected with the holiday include honoring the deceased using calaveras & marigold flowers known as cempazúchitl, building home altars called ofrendas with the favorite foods & beverages of the departed & visiting graves with these items as gifts for the deceased.

The celebration is not solely focused on the dead, as it is also common to give gifts to friends such as candy sugar skulls, to share traditional pan de muerto with family & friends, & to write light-hearted & often irreverent verses in the form of mock epitaphs dedicated to living friends & acquaintances, a literary form known as calaveras literarias.

Some argue that there are Indigenous Mexican or ancient Aztec influences that account for the custom & it has become a way to remember those forebears of Mexican culture.

• All Saint's Day(November 1st)-

Also known as All Hallows' Day or the Feast of All Saints is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honour of all the saints of the Church, whether they are known or unknown.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

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likehoneyandsilk · 2 months ago

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Good Graces

A little late to the Thanksgiving game . . . ☺️ Nevertheless, here's something sweet. I am a bit rusty returning to writing, so feedback is appreciated as always. Enjoy! 💛 (18+)

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A serene quiet graced the home. The boisterous laughter and elated chatter had departed with the last of your guests. The lingering scents of cinnamon and firewood enveloped the home in warmth, a pleasant reminder of the meal shared with the most beloved of family and friends.

The lights had been dimmed throughout the house, casting shadows along the walls as you worked silently putting your house to bed. The leftovers had been packed, the pumpkin pie eaten, and the dishes had been loaded into the dishwasher. While Joe cleaned the kitchen counters, you worked across from him, tidying the rustic dinner table.

A few taper candles remained lit, wax dripping down their sides. Glass vases were spread in expanse all over the table, the light casting rainbows along their rims. In them, meticulously picked red and white flowers dipped their stems in water. An assortment of faded red, yellow and orange pumpkins had been placed amongst the decorations. You stacked the untouched china, working feverishly as if the slightest bit of strength may shatter them within your hands.

Too engrossed in your task, you had yet to notice the way your lover had become immune to anything else but you. Joe, in his ever so handsome state, leaned back against the exquisite white granite island counter. The tedious frosted tips of his hair no longer remained, a sign that Summer was long gone, and Winter only neared. His larger frame was adorned in a white cotton and wool shirt, which was now unbuttoned, exposing only his neck and the slightest of his chest.

There had been an ease to Joe tonight. The tempestuous season had taken a toll on him, leaving him awake many nights in bed, wondering where he had gone wrong. As the days grew shorter, so did his courage. The man held every ounce of pride in his craft, but beneath all the pressures and constraints tied to his name, there had arrived a time of epiphany - there was only so much within his control.

What he could control, was focusing on his wife, his newly wed bride whom he had eloped with in a small town during the Summer. His bride. His girl. You. After all the years spent together, all the years passed as you grew with each other, Joe was impatient to pair the engagement ring with a wedding ring.

For Joe, there was an undeniable simplicity with the domesticity of life with you. Beyond the fame and the outlandish lifestyle, he often desired the feel of a normal routine. It was in moments like this where you played house effortlessly.

It was in moments like this Joe seemed to forget all constraints and pressures that arrived with the expectations tied to his name.

You moved seamlessly around the table, tucking chairs with each step. You hands were gentle with the china plates, the stunning diamond on your left hand sparkling underneath even the faintest of light. Joe wallowed in the way your hair enveloped your face, the clip unable to hold the thick perfectly curled jet black hair he adored so much. The powdered blush had faded from your cheeks, your natural rouge creeping from within. The lipstick placed so delicately on your plump lips long gone. It was not until a shaky breath escaped his lips, at the sight of your dress tightening around your breasts with every forceful exhale and bend of your hips did Joe finally catch your attention.

From you spot, you could make out the darkened state of his electric blue eyes. You caught the glimmer of golden on what was exposed of his chest. He had a coy smile on his lips. You wondered if he noticed the way his shirt clung to his biceps when he brought his hand to run through his fair. A dish towel sat idle in the grasp of his free hand, presumptuously from drying his hands after loading the dishes into the dishwasher. His sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, veins prominent even under the poorly lit kitchen.

As you drew closer he stood straighter. His fingers brushed yours as he grabbed plates from your hand, obeying your silent order as you stretched your neck over to the cabinet above his head. Effortlessly, he placed the dishes in their spot, shutting the cupboard, concealing them away for the next Thanksgiving. Washing your hands at the sink next to him, you reached for the dish towel.

A fatigued haze fell over your chocolate brown eyes. The taste of red wine lingered in your mouth. There was a lull fading across your body, an urge to lay in bed with Joe against you. The clock on the stove signalled midnight.

Catching his eyes again, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. His eyes had darkened, the same dark blue that craved you in all ways possible. It was the dark blue that ignited a fire inside you, prepared you for an unfathomable consumption of lust. Catching you by surprise, he tugged on the dish towel, drawing you near. His arms encircled around your frame, hands finding territory on the granite on either side of you, your lower back pressed into the counter. He had you caved in, and you would be a fool to say you did not hope for him to lead the way.

He loosed the clip from your hair, letting it fall freely along your back. His citrus-like and woody scent consumed you. You wondered if he could hear how wildly your heart was beating, as he gazed at you endearingly, forgetting that anything else in the world existed.

"We should get to bed."

You whispered words filled the silence surrounding you. By the crave in your eyes, Joe knew undoubtedly your fatigue held no power against what your heart desired. He could read the shift in your chocolate brown eyes to an intense darkened shade. See the way you unknowingly bit your lip, your breath hitched, the innocent flicker of your gaze to his lips.

"Not yet, we forgot to do something."

It was the first words he had spoken in just under an hour. You felt the gruffness of his voice, the way the words fell effortlessly from his mouth, like velvet against your skin.

Leaning down to your level, your eyes closed as his lips kissed your cheek. He travelled lower, underneath your jaw, along your chin, lingering on your neck. He inhaled your scent. It was an intoxication of vanilla and jasmine. He held himself strongly, his demeanour calm as he spoke against your skin.

"We never said what we were thankful for."

Confusion spread over your body, suddenly replaced with a chill when his cold hand wrapped around your waist. The thin fabric of your cream-coloured dress adorned in dainty red flowers could not withstand the pressure of his touch, the way his large hand fit perfectly along your waist, trailed to your backside and rested at the bottom of you back.

"Your mom led the chain, we all did. Remember?"

His kisses trailed up again. Underneath your jaw, along your jaw, and then your cheek. They hovered dangerously over your right ear. You fingers fumbled with the untouched buttons on his shirt, wondering if you could be as smooth as him in making your crumble against his touch.

"None of that sugarcoated shit babe, I mean one thing your're thankful for. In this room of course."

He pulled your flush against him, your arms wrapping around his waist as your eyes met. His free hand trailed along the side of your thigh, scrunching the fabric of your dress as he rode it higher. With each passing second, your heart fluttered, his touch against your skin like a million butterflies fluttering their wings against it.

Your mouth went dry when his hand curved around your backside, fiddling with the lace garment concealing your most intimate spot. His fingers fiddled with the thin garment, his fingers digging into plush skin.

"Gotta tell me, otherwise we'll be like this all night."

HIs voice was taunting, the smirk lining his lips all too inviting. His arms hooked around you, leaving you dissatisfied with the loss of contact of his fingers to your skin. The hem of your dress fell into place. Lifting you effortlessly, he situated you on the granite counter, the cold seeping through your dress.

Even at this elevation, you gazed up at him, his frame still towering yours. He raised his eyebrows, impatiently waiting for your answer. Brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he left his fingers linger in your hair, massaging the sweet spot just below you earlobe.

When the answer finally arrived, it was a breathless barely audible whisper. "It's you."

He nodded, his loving gaze taking you in entirely. He spreads your legs, inviting himself in. Instinctively, you tighten your hold around him, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"And what about you?"

He responds with a boyish shrug, exhaling loudly. His hands dance up your legs, riding your dress higher and higher.

"I can't tell you . . ." He begins, pulling you close. You lips inches apart as your eyes bore into one another. You feel your chest tighten, the anticipation build in your stomach.

"But I can show you."

Ever so even, ever so cool. It is the affirmation in his tone that sends a thrill up your spine.

His lips against yours are like butter, smooth and silky. He meshes against you so well. He is a drug, an all to encompassing drug that you crave so desperately. You feel limp, simply because you become all to consumed by his presence.

Wrapping your arms gingerly around his neck, your fingers dance with the hair at the nape of his neck. You feel his hands travel up your back, along your neck, and then to the back of your head, where they get lost in your hair. You legs tighten around his waist.

You gasp softly, feeling him against you. When his teeth gently dig into your bottom lip, you groan, barely audible but soft and musical.

You pull back first, breathless. "Will I feel it to? What you're thankful for?"

It's the way your voice is so timid, but teasing. It has taken every ounce of you to ask such questions, cheeks burning red as you drop your gaze. Joe knows you inside out, and he cannot help relish at the way he pulls you into ecstasy with the simplest of actions.

“I'd be a failure if you couldn't" Again, it is the mere calmness of his voice that sends you in a frenzy.

This kiss is deeper, it speaks volumes of his love for you. You shudder when he draws his lips back, an intoxication for one another evident in the other's eyes. An airy breath leaves from between your lips as he kisses your neck. It is not until you feel his teeth graze your sensitive skin do you shift, instinctively drawing his hands to your hips to hold you in place. His hair tickles your skin as he kisses lower, your chest rising and falling in rushed paces. His name falls from within you, a whisper so quiet, he almost misses the way you drag his name in uncontainable desire. He breaks the kiss to undo the buttons against your sternum.

Joe is achingly slow when he begins to draw the dress lower. It is the soft kiss, the bite of your lip, and the way his fingers dance along your skin that drive you insane. He locks your gaze with his own, and observes how you decompose before him. His touch travels down your neck, along your collarbone, down your shoulders, and finally hits fabric. The places he has touched are warm and tender. He pulls your dress down slowly exposing more skin. You groan in dissatisfaction when he draws back. An airy chuckle escapes from his lips, a satisfied look plastered across his face.

"I've got you, easy now, huh?" You nod, obeying entirely.

You slide off the counter, arms wrapping around his neck as your body becomes flushed against his. Your lips mold into one, his arms holding you firmly by the waist. His fingers dig into your sides, earning himself a groan from the back of your throat. Before you can comprehend, he lifts you, carrying you with ease towards the couch.

The lamp in the corner casts a golden hue about the room, the smell of fire burning wood still evident in the air. He sits down, your knees embedded in the cushion, your sex resting against his muscular thigh. Your hands cling to his collar, whimpering as he shifts in his spot, the movement of his thigh against your delicate sex sending electrifying sensations up your body.

"I love you." His words are rushed, as if finding the opportunity to remind you before he unravels your before him completely.It is a brief second, but it is soft, as he cups your face, mumbling words of encouragement as you tell him you love him back, your hips still moving rhythmically. He marvels at the innocence etched on your face, the pink tinge to your cheeks, and the way your body begins to shudder. When your head falls back and sweat glistens on your neck, he holds you, keeping you upright, letting you ride out your first high.

The room fills with the faint moan you expel, the sound bouncing off the walls. Your head falls against Joe, finding comfort in his neck as you catch you breath. His hands trails along your back, whispering sweet nothings in your ears.

With the profound intensity of the moment and the uncontainable shifts of your hips, your dress has fallen past your breasts, revealing pink lace adorning. You sit up, watching as Joe becomes awestruck at the site before him. Love bites litter your neck. Your chest rises and falls profoundly. Lips pink and eyes on fire. You're nodding in approval as he silently seeks permission to rid you of your dress entirely.

As he guides you beneath him, you whimper as his hips press into yours. The fabric of his clothes brushes across your skin, and you pull at his shirt, which soon finds a way to the ground. The skin to skin contact embraces you like a blanket. The fabric of his pants is rough against your legs, but just as you're about to undo his belt, he fulfills the distance between you.

His lips devour yours in a hungry kiss before pulling back. He watches you wither against him, cheeks flushed as his lips trail you neck, along your sternum, and all the way to your navel. You whimper, the sound becoming a faint exclamation of his name, as his fingers travel between you thighs, his eyes burning into yours as he gentlly brushes his fingers against lace.

He works you through slowly, whispering endearing terms and guiding you through a pleasurable high. When your legs begin to shake, your nails dig into his shoulders, and the sounds of your moans and whimpers dance off the walls he knows he has you exactly where he wants.

The rise of your hips draws his fingers to the lace concealing you. He exposes you with such fragility, watching you wither before him. You pull at his hair, knees bent as he find solace between your legs. It is the first sensation of his mouth on you that sends you in an undeniable state of euphoria.

And he shows you, makes you feel, just how thankful he is for you.

#joe burrow #joe burrow one shot #cincinnati bengals #cincinnati bengals imagines #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow x reader #nfl imagines

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eeboshmeebo · 8 months ago

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[Fake Shameless vs Stoic Shameless]

I can't take it. I can't take it no more. I HAVE TO WRITE IT BEFORE IT DIES, AAAAHHH!

Neito Monoma x Very straightforward Fem-Reader

"Hahahahaha! I heard that you've gotten a new member today, 1-A! I'm guessing that they're just as pathetic as the rest of you!"

The classroom door had been left open, the only reason that this boy could've ever opened it without the keys.

This... boy. Short blonde hair. Blue eyes that made you think of both forget-me-not flowers and blue granite at the same time. Perfect teeth. The odd way he bent over. His eyelashes and his lips, vitally noticeable yet unnoticeable like the texture of a canvas underneath the paint. His voice, which you'd normally find irritating on another, seemed perfectly suited for him. The white pupils he had, instead of the 'dead fish' eyes you were reminded of with others, looked like pearls inlaid into a tourmaline and white quartz of some sort.

Oh, you were smitten the moment you saw him. Your classmates didn't seem to share the same sentiment, however.

"So not manly to judge a person before you even met her, Monoma!" said Kirishima. Monoma was one of the few people he didn't get along with, which was a surprise only to you.

"Yeah! Go away, leave us alone!" said Denki after Kirishima finished speaking, looking up from his conversation with Mineta to get Monoma to go away. Mineta wandered off now that the attention was off of him.

"Sorry about that, he comes around often..." said Mina, her lips forming a pout and her eyes slightly narrowed in obvious annoyance.

You knew that she was actually more upset about having her 'conversation' with you interrupted, a one-sided talk with her speaking endlessly while you were completely silent, but you patted her on the shoulder, much to her surprise, and walked up to him

"Oh, what's this, the new 1-A student, trying to fight with-"

"You're cute. Go out with me."

...!?!?!

The entire class was silent. Wide eyes, gaping mouths, even Mineta had frozen before he snuck up on Yaoyorozu and promptly got stopped by Jiro.

"W-well, I never! You could be j-joking and trying to trick me, f-f-for all I know!" Monoma stuttered out, pointing his trembling finger at you as he fixed his posture.

Ah, he was blushing... he looked so much better with a blush on- no, wait, scratch that. He looked good all the time. His cuteness was just enhanced when he was blushing and stuttering.

Before he could continue, however, you had unlocked your phone and gently grabbed his hand, placing your phone into the palm of his hand.

"Put your phone number into my calls list. I like your voice."

He blushed even more with that, little half-attempted words coming out of his mouth at how... assertive you were. Did you have no shame, no awareness of the multiple people filming this!?

"...okay."

Monoma, under your abnormally intense, wide-eyed stare that seemed to see through him (you wish), input his phone number into yours and gave your phone back to you.

You intentionally held his hand as you took your phone back, and once you did, he fled...

"I'll get my vengeance for this, 1-AAaaaaaaaaaa!"

He was surprisingly quick but you could hear that he ran into someone down the hallways outside.

...

You smiled to yourself in your newfound victory.

And, of course, someone just had to ruin it.

"This feels a lot like the story of how my dad and the old hag got together, damn it! I don't want to relive that!"

...Bakugo was quickly silenced by the death stares from a few of the more... gossipy girls. Namely Mina and Tooru. For such energetic girls they sure can silence a man.

#neito monoma #monoma neito #monoma x reader #bnha monoma #monoma #mha neito

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unitedstonesindia · 13 hours ago

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stevesherdaddynowlover · 7 months ago

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just me and you [s.h.]

an: hiii just a little blurb based off what i think about when i listen to grapejuice by harry styles (very important to my lore) hope you enjoy!!

warnings: just kissing and fluff

wc: 1.8k

masterlist here!!!

You're perched on a bar stool in his kitchen, elbows pressed into the cool granite countertop and your feet dangle a foot from the ground, legs swinging lightly while you watch as he stirs a sauce that smells of garlic and spice, hip cocked to the side while he nods in time with the record you’ve put on.

To your right you smile at the vase of flowers Steve had brought home for you, a bouquet of purples and blues that bring to mind days in bed with the windows open, curtains flowing and crisp fresh air swirling around you while you come in and out of sleep.

Glasses of candy red wine, the best Italian according to Steve, sit in front of you, a light pink lip print from this morning's makeup that stains the side. Banfi Rosa Regale Brachetto, a mouthful for sure but Steve says the full name every time, butchering an Italian accent as he does.

When he turns to you—wooden spoon in one hand and half full glass in the other, you take in his pink cheeks and wine marked lips. He looks like a Sunday afternoon, hair tousled from running his hands through the thick honey strands over and over, striped apron looped over his neck and tied in a bow around his waist. Bare Feet on the hardwood floors and a navy blue and white striped button down that’s half undone, light wash jeans snug on his hips and cuffed at his ankles.

Sitting there with your hands cradling your cheeks, chin in your palm, you watch him float around the kitchen with an ease that lulls you into a sense of calmness you can only truly experience around him. The sun beams in through the kitchen window, curtains pulled back enough that it warms your skin and puts a gentle glow on his, tan and soft.

He’s chopping vegetables in front of you now, head turning back like clockwork to make sure the sauce doesn’t burn but he always makes time to smile gently at you while you watch him work. You’re faintly aware of the song that’s drifting in from the living room but you’d much rather focus on the way it sounds coming from him, a gentle hum that vibrates from his chest and mixes with the wine to make you warm and fuzzy.

You admire his forearms flexing just so with the knife in his hand, grip tight and eyes focused so it doesn’t slip from his grasp. He pops a piece of carrot into his mouth, the crunch breaking you from the spell he had you under. He meets your eyes with a wink, fingers moving closer to your mouth with a look of expectation in his eyes.

“Open up, sweetness.” You do, mouth falling open and his thumb grazing your tongue when he slides the bite of carrot between your lips. You bite down, his hand patting your cheek in a silent praise before he goes back to cooking and you go back to admiring.

Even though you’re not really sure what he’s doing and couldn’t prepare more than a box of mac and cheese to save your life, you never grow tired of watching him like this. It’s one of your favorite things, whether it be with a full house of friends and family or just the two of you like it is now.

When the song changes a gasp pops from his lips and he’s rushing to turn down the stove before he glides over and sweeps you from your chair. One second you’re sitting there and the next you're in his arms while he pulls a flower from the vase behind you and snaps the bottom half off. He slips the stem behind your ear, grinning wide at the blush on your cheeks before tapping your nose with the tip of his finger and taking your hand in his.

“Dance with me, yeah?” And you’d never say no to him, you don’t think you’re capable. One hand in yours and the other softly on your hip, he guided your head to rest against his chest, the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat felt on your cheek. You sway back and forth, his lips pressed against your forehead in a long, sweet kiss that has you melting into him.

The petals of the blue poppy tickle at your skin but you don’t move to touch it. The two of you stand there gently moving past the end of the song and well into the next. Only when he remembers what he’d been doing before your dance does he pull away, going to stir the sauce and coming back to you just as fast.

His hands go to your hips, pushing into you until your back digs into the counter. And then he’s lifting you up, sitting you on top and pushing everything to the side. He’s a few inches below you now, lip pulled between his teeth as he studies your face. Both of you have had a few glasses of wine, just affected enough that you’re extra smiley and can’t stop giggling.

Pulling the flower from your hair you move to slip it behind his ear, his smile shy as he laces his fingers with yours and places quick pecks against the column of your throat. Undoing your hands so you can run your fingers through his hair, you smile at the smell of your shampoo, notes of coconut and citrus left on your fingertips. His hands fist at the sweater you’re wearing when you tug on his hair just hard enough to get his attention.

When he brings his head from your chest you pull him up to you, pressing your lips to his in a slow kiss that leaves you breathless. Hints of raspberry and chocolate from the wine dance along your tongue when you swipe it across his bottom lip and you feel him smile against your mouth. He pulls back just to go in for another quick kiss, and then another, smirking at the way your mouth moves each time as if to chase his.

“Tastes so sweet.”

“I think it’s the wine, Steve.”

“No, baby, it's all you.” You shake your head at him, shoving him back just slightly so you can slip off the counter, moving back to your stool and rolling your eyes at the adorable pout on his cherry red lips that are now a little swollen from your kiss.

“Get back to it, chef. I’m starved!” He salutes you, running his hands through his hair and going back to tending to the food while you admire the way the denim curves over his ass, hugging his thighs and making him look like a dream. One you think you’ve had many times before.

———-

Steve had insisted that the two of you eat outside, refusing to let you help with bringing out all the food. There’s a little table on the patio barely big enough for the two of you, two metal chairs warmed by the sun that Steve has pulled so they the legs are touching.

An array of food in front of you, pasta and a meat sauce that smells divine, buttery garlic bread and cooked vegetables and an assortment of fruits all piled on top of each other. He’s coming through the back door now, the almost empty bottle of wine tucked under his arms and your now empty glasses balanced between his fingers.

The apron he was wearing is thrown over the counter, dishes piled in the sink that you’ll wash later, his hip knocking playfully against yours while he dries them. He promised you chocolate covered strawberries for dessert and though they’re cooling in the fridge you can see a drop of chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

When he finally sits down you swipe at it with your thumb, pulling it between your lips and humming in content at the sweetness. He’s looking at you sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders with a twinge of guilt but you just laugh, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his palm, then his wrist.

It feels perfect out here, in more ways than one. The sun is warming your skin despite the breeze that wisps around you. It’s that time of day where it’s starting to get dark but it’s almost hazy out, the light fighting to stay. Steve’s switched the music and it filters through the house and out into the backyard, so low you’re not sure if you can really even hear it.

And you’ve got Steve beside you, legs tangled together under the table and hands brushing against each other lazily while you eat the dinner he prepared for you. He’s grinning from ear to ear, smiling around a bite of garlic bread at the bit of sauce that’s somehow ended up on the tip of your nose.

As much as you cherish being around your loved ones, having a house full of laughter and electricity and banter, you savor these moments of just the two of you. When it’s so quiet you can hear the softness of his breathing or the little noises his mouth makes when he’s focused on something. You love to listen to the sound of his laughter when you tell a bad joke or something happens in a show he’s watching.

You wish you could bottle up the way it feels when he looks at you like nothing else exists, like you’re all he knows and that’s enough for him. He watches you sometimes, lip between his teeth and a look in his eye like you’ve hung the moon.

Love doesn’t seem to do it justice. It’s all consuming and overbearing in the best way possible. Sometimes he can just glance at you and that’s all it takes. You could be at the grocery store or the farmers market or a family dinner and when he looks at you from across the room and smiles it takes your breath away and it’s like you can feel the adoration for him running through your veins.

You’ve never felt it before him and you know you’d never feel it after him—not that you plan on ever knowing what that’s like.

It’s just you and him.

And when your plates are cleared and the dishes are put away, the bottle of wine finished and the both of you are more than tipsy, you feel happy. It’s how you find yourself sitting across from each other on the kitchen floor, all the lights off and only the glow of the open refrigerator surrounding you. He’s fed you enough chocolate covered strawberries to make your teeth ache and your belly is sore from laughing at the melted chocolate you’ve swiped across his chin and his nose.

He tries to pretend like he’s annoyed but fails, gripping your face in his hands and bumping his nose with yours so both of you are covered in chocolate, loud laughs turning into quiet giggles until you’re slumped against each other, sticky with strawberry juice and melted chocolate, hands looped together the whole time.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington blurb

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trancylovecraft · 2 years ago

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(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro.

YSIK Masterlist // Next chapter

A Cherry Blossom is a pretty flower, Blooming in the spring and representing renewal and joy. However it is quick to die out in the winter, Shrivelling up with it's beautiful colour following with it. Leaving the memory of it gone yet never forgotten.

The moon shun bright in the obsidian black sky.

The light that came down illuminated a small, yet well kept gravestone.

It was old, Ancient probably, Cracks were illustrated boldly into the corners and wrapped around the granite like spider webs. it seemed it was about to fall apart at the seams, yet held strong.

Flowers of all colour bustled around the bottom, Fresh, Newly planted.

A man sat on his knees in front of the stone, the only motion he made was the light breeze running through his hair, making his ponytail sway in the wind.

This was no man but instead a demon.

All six of his eyes lay transfixed on the carving written dead-centre on the tombstone, Carved with great care and precision to get it just right.

'[F/N] Tsugikuni'

The mans face was stoic and unreadable, but his eyes were filled with great sorrow and regret.

Kokushibo's arm reached out to the stone, Clawed hands tracing over the lettering carved out.

He asked himself

'How did it come to this?'

☆♡☆

"Michi-Nii!"

A young girl in a blue dragon-patterned haori called out from a distance, She could of only been about four or five yet her little legs were fast and let her catch up to her older brother.

Michikatsu turned around, Mildly surprised at his sister's sudden appearance he stopped in his tracks letting her finally reach him.

"[F/N]. I thought I told you to stay at home and help mother today, You know she needs someone to help her out." Michikatsu said, A little white lie.

His mother, While she wasn't in the best condition, Didn't currently need any help and even if she did little [F/N] would not of been able to do much about it. After all, She was still very young.

[F/N] heaved trying to catch her breath from all that running.

"I know Michi-Nii! but I wanted to come watch you fight!" [F/N] said excitedly, A big expecting smile on her face.

Michikatsu looked into [F/N]'s big puppy dog eyes and sighed. He just couldn't resist.

"..Well alright.. But for the record it's not 'fighting' it's sword training, I'm not fighting anyone, Just preparing for the day when I do, When I become a samurai!" Michikatsu said triumphantly.

[F/N] squealed.

"That's so cool! When I'm a big kid I wanna fight with swords and become a sam-u-mai!" She exclaimed.

"Samurai" Michikatsu corrected.

"Samai!" She responded.

"Samurai" Michikatsu said, Extra slowly so [F/N] could pick up the syllables.

"Samrai!" She said with complete confidence.

Michikatsu snorted and ruffled the girls hair, Who laughed in return.

"Nevermind, Let's get a move on then."

☆♡☆

The sun was high in the sky naming afternoon.

[F/N] sat on the grassy hill next to her brother, Yorichii.

They sat together watching Michikatsu over yonder train his sword swings by hitting dummies out in the field. She watched in wonder at his determination and focus to his craft

Yorichii was the middle child of the family, Michikatsu the oldest and [F/N] the youngest.

Yorichii was a mute. Never spoke or made any motion to communicate, However that never stopped [F/N]'s undying attempts of trying to.

This mostly just consisted of [F/N] following him around, Sleeping in his futon when she had a nightmare or just simply talking her little heart out to him, To which he'd always respond with a little smile and a nod, Showing that he was listening.

He was usually a daydreamer, But today he seemed just as transfixed as she was at their older brother's training.

"Yor-Nii, Where are you going?" [F/N] asked as she watched Yorichii wander down the hill towards Michikatsu.

As usual she got no answer, So she got up and followed him down.

Michikatsu was so fixated on his sword swings that he never noticed Yorichii standing behind him.

So when the physics of one of his sword slashes brought him back stumbling into Yorichii that snapped him out of his training fever.

"Yorichii? What is it?" Michikatsu said surprised. His brother had never interfered while he was training

Yorichii stood still and took in a deep breath, He clenched his fists as if bracing for impact. He opened his mouth.

"...I want to be a samurai like you!" Yorichii stammered not only in his speech but also in his stance.

Michikatsu's sword dropped to the ground with a clang!

A shockwave went through both Michikatsu and [F/N], Their brothers first words to them leaving them speechless.

[F/N] however was the first to speak up.

"Yor-Nii! You can speak! Now we can really talk to each other!" She proclaimed excitedly, Making Yorichii wobble when she jumped to hug him.

Michikatsu stood there, It was hard to tell whether he was shocked at Yorichii's sudden speech or the proclamation of his goal which happened to coincide with both his and [F/N]'s.

"Yorichii.." Michikatsu said just above a whisper.

Yorichii looked back at him with a shaky determination, it shook and swayed but despite the odds it stood strong.

Michikatsu's form deflated, Going back to his calm and stoic demeanour.

"Yorichii. You know what will happen when you're ten, Right?" He said quietly, Only hinting at Yorichii's fate as [F/N] had no idea.

Yorichii nodded. Only taking a glance down at [F/N].

"I know. But I still want to be a samurai, I want to be like you." Yorichii said, Still not given up.

[F/N] perked up.

"Me too! I wanna be a.. samurai too! Like Michi-Nii!" She said, Making sure to pronounce 'Samurai' slowly to pronounce the syllables.

"Hey, You got it right" Michikatsu pointed out, Mildly proud.

Yorichii looked down at [F/N] who still was hugging his waist, He smiled.

"Really? All of us want to be swordsmen?" Yorichii asked now a bit more reserved. He scratched the back of his head.

"Swordgirl!" [F/N] said confidently.

"Swordswoman" Both Yorichii and Michikatsu corrected at the same time.

"Swordgirl?"

This will take a while.

☆♡☆

A good few years have passed since then.

The five-year old little girl [F/N] had grown into a blossoming young woman and is now a little younger than her big brothers were back then.

She still wore a resized version of her blue dragon-patterned haori, The only thing that really stayed the same and came with her through her walk of life.

"You know [F/N], I could convince your father to buy you a new haori" Akeno Tsugikuni, Her mother said to her while running a needle through her haori, resizing the fabric to fit [F/N]'s bigger self.

"This is about the fifth time I've had to refit this old thing. I'm sure your dad would prefer you to have a new one, You are coming up on marriage age after all" She softly spoke to [F/N], But her eyes were fixed on the fabric, Stitching with care.

[F/N] shook her head nonchalantly.

"No, Mom. This was a gift from you, It was homemade. You can't just buy that kind of thing from a tailor." She huffed.

[F/N] sat on the edge of her mothers sick-bed, Her mother laid propped up so she could

Akeno smiled.

"Besides, I don't even think I'd want to get married. I like how my life is right now and you know I still want to be an onna-musha, right?" [F/N] said.

True, Even after all these years [F/N] still held onto the goal of becoming a Female samurai, An onna-musha.

However it seemed like a pipe-dream. With her father's influence and strength she had never picked up a sword, No matter how hard or surreptitiously tried to steal or borrow one of her brothers swords she was always caught in the end and given a right punishment for it.

Still, This never changed her mind on the matter.

"I see... Still haven't given up on that dream, have you?" She hummed.

"Well anyways, If you're so invested into my own sowing then maybe-" Akeno broke out into a fit of coughs, She dropped the needle in favour of covering her mouth.

[F/N] quickly rushed over to her side.

"Mom? Mom, Are you alright" She said, Lightly patting her mothers back.

Akeno stopped sputtering out coughs but still softly wheezed during breaths.

"I'm.. Fine, Sweetheart" She spoke, However her hoarse throat said otherwise.

"No, You're not! You don't need to fix my haori, We can continue later but right now you should lay down." [F/N] worried.

Akeno shook her head.

"I said I'm alright but.. could you go fetch me.. Some water?" She breathed heavily as if all the air around her had thinned.

[F/N] quickly nodded and rushed out the room to complete the task.

She swiftly opened the shoji doors to her house and made her way over to the water-well sat upon the hill. She hoped to the gods above that the well hadn't dried up in the early summer heat.

She reached the small little well and peered inside, The water in the well was plentiful. [F/N] sighed in relief and proceeded to wheel the bucket on the rope down the stony passageway.

CLASH!

[F/N] jumped at the sound, Letting the rope slip from her grasp she watched the bucket fall from its steady pace and hit the water with a loud splash!

"No!" [F/N] yelled. The well was too far down for her to reach the bucket. She cried out in frustration and looked over at the source of noise that dominoed the bucket falling.

Over in the valley beyond the hill was Michikatsu, Still out training with his sword. It was fairly early in the morning and judging by the sweat-beads on his face and the mess of his clothes [F/N] could tell he's been up training since six at least.

That's right, Along with her, Michikatsu had changed as well.

From the strong yet stoic young man that [F/N] had grown up with he had festered into a more strength obsessed yet quiet young man than what he had been before.

[F/N] knew the catalyst well, He was her brother after all.

Yorichii from that day he proclaimed his want to be a samurai, Had demonstrated an inhuman talent for the skill. A man who was working with their father had humoured Yorichii and decided to teach him a basic stance.

However to everyone's surprise, Yorichii had landed four blows on the man and swiftly defeated him. Which is something that Michikatsu never could.

From then on Michikatsu grew a bit darker, Maybe not noticeably. Not noticeable from her father, mother or even Yorichii. But [F/N] could tell.

She barely saw him anymore, Well it was more of she never talked to him anymore. She still watched him train, at least from afar.

An idea clicked in her head.

The bucket in the well was too far down for her to reach, Yes. However it wasn't too far for Michikatsu who was a foot taller than her.

She walked down the hill, Calling out for him.

"Michi-Nii!" She called out to him.

Michikatsu stopped swinging his sword and turned around to look at his little sister with an annoyed scowl on his face.

"What? Can't you see I'm a bit busy at the moment" Michikatsu hissed.

[F/N] froze for a moment.

"I just need a little help, the bucket in the well fell into the water" She explained softly, Scared to entice her brothers wrath.

Michikatsu groaned.

"Alright." He said simply and quickly headed over to the well. [F/N] followed after, Smiling.

"Thank you, Michi-Nii!" She said thankfully.

[F/N] grabbed onto his hand to hold it, But she was shaken off by Michikatsu.

"I told you to stop calling me that, It's stupid and childish" He said, grimacing.

[F/N]'s smile was put out like a light, But she nodded. Trying to respect his wishes.

They got to the well and Michikatsu fished out the bucket with ease and handed it over to [F/N] who bowed down in thanks but with much less emotion put into it.

With that, Michikatsu walked away without a goodbye. Off to go and continue training for the rest of the day and coming back home in the dead of night, Just to go to sleep and repeat the process over and over again.

[F/N] frowned but took the bucket of water back to the house.

Sliding open the Shoji doors she entered the house, remarkably more downtrodden than before.

As she walked the halls towards her mothers room she heard two voices arguing in a hushed tone.

"She doesn't want to get married."

"Too bad. She's coming upon marriage age and if she doesn't want to disrespect this family she will do as she's told and marry the man we've picked out for her"

The two voices, Her mother and father.

She slipped quietly behind the half-open shoji door, Intently listening in on their conversation

"She want's to be an onna-musha, You know." Her mother admitted.

"An onna-musha. Really." Her father responded, A tone full of disgusted shock ran through his voice.

"That girl is too weak to even tend to the horses. Not to mention the girl's only worth will be to marry her off to a nobleman. Her being a samurai along with the men would just be wrong" He said.

There was a silence not just between [F/N]'s parents, But her too.

She's known her father hadn't particularly paid attention to her nor did he show any affection but to think he thought this lowly of her was a gut punch to the stomach.

"Don't say that, Akuhei. She could be listening" Her mother said in a whisper.

"I hope she is. She needs to learn the truth sooner or later or she'll grow up and be delusional to the real world."

[F/N] let tears flow from her cheeks, Dripping down onto the floor.

If she couldn't even get a bucket out from a well, Could she really be a swordswoman?

☆♡☆

Something wasn't right.

It had been a good few hours after [F/N] had eavesdropped on her parents conversation and it had fallen into night-time.

[F/N] had long gone to bed but she wasn't able to fallen asleep easy. It was strange, No matter the situation she had always had no issue with falling into unconciousness.

She rolled and scuffled around on her futon uncomfortably. Could it of been the conversation earlier? No. Couldn't be that, It was something else.

[F/N] rubbed her eyes and got up from her futon. She shuffled on her sandals and quickly draped her newly-sized blue dragon haori around her figure for warmth.

She decided to go for a walk to clear her head.

[F/N] walked softly in the darkened hallways of her home, The soft moonlight illuminated her pathway through the house. She was lost in her own thoughts from the events of the day.

Her father's words, Michikatsu's attitude, Her mother's illness. It all swirled in her mind like a hurricane.

"..I like my life how it is right now"

The words she had told her mother. A lie.

She hated how everything was right now. Her dad saw her as an object to be bid on. Michikatsu acted like she was nothing but a burden to him and Yorichii was nowhere to be found.

Besides, Even if Yorichii and Michikatsu weren't talking either they were obviously the more important in the family.

They were the Sun and the Moon, Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi.

[F/N] wasn't a celestial deity or a celestial body, She was just the terrestrial afterthought. Yorichii and Michikatsu were both skilled and talented in their own rights, They were fawned over by the girls and even some of the boys in the village. They were praised and respected.

[F/N] wasn't even allowed to leave the house.

Now that she thought about it, There was only was her and her mother.

Her mother.

While walking she had stopped in her tracks. Light shone in through the hallway from an open door.

Her mother's door.

[F/N]'s brow quirked. Was her mother up this late as well? She should be asleep, She was very ill after all.

[F/N] peeked through the doorway, Her eyes widened.

Yorichii stood over the bed, Her mother layed motionlessly on the bed.

"Yor-Nii?" [F/N] asked.

Yorichii turned around, A strained look in his eyes. His jaw stood locked tight as if there was something painful he had to say.

"Mother has passed on" Yorichii whispered.

What?

No, No. No no no no no. That couldn't be right, No. It couldn't be right.

[F/N] stumbled over to her mother, Shoving Yorichii out of the way to whom backed off.

"Mum, Mum. Wake up, Hey. Hey, Do you hear me?" [F/N] cried, She grasped onto her mother's limp hand, She shook it in futile attempt to wake her.

"Mum you can't, Mum please." Tears started rolling down her cheeks now, Her breathing laboured.

"Yorichii, Please did you try-"

She turned around, Yorichii was nowhere to be seen.

He had left.

He had left and hadn't even bothered to try and comfort her.

She stared in shock, Not believing her situation

She was brought back by a hand squeezing her own.

She snapped her head back down to her mother, Whose eyes lain weakly on [F/N]'s. A soft yet painful smile appeared on her face.

"Mum!" [F/N] choked.

"[F/N]..." Akeno whispered. "Come closer.."

[F/N] Nodded and leant down closer to her mother, Kneeling down now to listen closely. Her eyes never leaving her mothers

"I never wanted to be married... My father had sold me off at a young age as well." Akeno started.

"I had a chance.. Once.. To leave this place, To get out of my marriage but do you know what happened?" She asked, Looking mournfully into the eyes of her youngest, Who was now choking on her sobs and tears rushing out from her eyes.

Akeno didn't wait for an answer

"I didn't take it.. I was too afraid." A sad smile came upon her.

"My life had ended right there since I never took that chance.. And the only good thing to ever happen after that... were you three."

"[F/N].. Yorichii.. Michikatsu. My beautiful children" Akeno let tears roll down her face now, Reminiscing on her life that was flashing before her now.

"Please.. You now have a chance. Get away while you still can.." Her other hand wiped the tears off of [F/N]'s face weakly, However her hand started to fall.

"Run.. and I promise I will see you again, The kami will reunite us... I love you, [F/N]" She whispered, Her hand falling to her side and the others grip becoming limp. The light in her eyes fading.

"Mum... Mum! No! no no!" [F/N] sobbed, Shaking her mothers now lifeless corpse she collapsed to the floor and cried out for her mum to come back, to speak to her.

"Run, You still have your chance"

Her mothers voice rang in her head, It echoed throughout her entire being.

And with love and tears, She kissed her mother on the forehead and closed her dead eyes. Akeno's face displayed rest, peace.

She said her final goodbye's to her mother and left the room to go back to her own.

And with a heavy heart and a rucksack full of essentials, She climbed out her rooms window and left in the dead of night.

☆♡☆

[F/N] trudged through the woodlands.

It was now daybreak, The sun rose upon the distance and shown through cracks in the tree's.

Through all that time [F/N] never stopped walking, Never took a break. The only thing on her mind was escape to a better place.

It was only once she appeared upon a clearing did she stop walking.

In front of her was a rundown Shinto shrine placed upon the mountainy and rocky terrain of the woods.

It had obvious that people hadn't been here in decades by the dust, cobwebs and poor conditions of all the archways and cracked stone lanterns lining the pathway up to the shrine entrance.

Back in it's heyday it would of been grand. A massive shrine that could of held a good few hundred people, As there was a large amount of corridors and a second floor.

Not to mention the vast courtyard [F/N] now found herself standing in.

She breathed in the highland forest air, Took in the birds chirping and the warm light of the sun on her skin.

She looked upon the sign hanging from the archway.

"Inari Ōkami"

The kami of Foxes, Agriculture, Fertility, Tea, Sake and Swordsmiths.

[F/N] frowned at the state of the shrine, Thinking of it as a great disrespect to Inari.

Another thought ran through her mind.

Home. A rundown one for sure, But nothing she couldn't fix.

And that's what she did.

For the next ten years that's what [F/N] did. She fixed the Archways, Refilled the stone lamps, Rebuilt the structuring, Cleaned up the cobwebs and dust all until it looked newly built.

Everyday since she came across it she would give offerings to Inari Ōkami. Ranging from nuts and fruit she would pick up while scavenging to Flowers and pieces of jewellery.

She'd light candles in their honour, Pray to them not for good fortune but for the reformation of the shrine.

She'd grown attached to the shrine, So much so that she had completely forgotten her goal of becoming a swordswoman in favour of being the sole shrine-maiden.

And in that time she had finally bloomed into a beautiful young woman and if anyone should come across her they would describe her as such.

Not that anyone came along though, The shrine was in the middle of nowhere and [F/N] had seen no one in the past decade.

As [F/N] got up for another day to tend to the shrine she wondered what her brothers were doing now.

☆♡☆

[F/N] carried her basket full of fruits, Satisfied from a successful scavenge.

She headed back up towards the large archway that was there to greet people into the temple. It use to be covered in splintered wood but thanks to the efforts of [F/N] the archway was restored with a fresh coat of paint and smoothing of the wood.

When she got up there she stopped, Her eyes widened.

The massive wooden doors to the thick stone wall gate were left wide open.

She was sure she had closed them when she had left.

Her body stiffened and her palms became sweaty.

Who could be in her shrine? Nobody came up the mountains and the nearest village was a good few dozen kilometres away on the far other side of the forest. No one who was just wandering could come across the temple.

[F/N] slowly put the basket of fruit onto the ground, Making sure not to make a sound.

She unsheated her Kaiken from her obi and slowly made her way inside to the courtyard, Which seemed empty.

But she looked upon the main building and just like the gate doors the shoji to the main building were left wide open.

[F/N] confirmed her suspicions. Someone was definetly here.

She made her way inside, Checking the main hallways she found no one around however that never made [F/N] let down her guard.

THUMP!

[F/N] flinched. The sound of an object knocking over came from just down the hall she was facing. Gripping her Kaiken tighter she moved forward towards the sounds

As she got closer, She heard a duo of voices arguing.

"Stop moving, Brother."

"Argh, If you'd let me do it by myself this would go much faster."

"No. You're injured, let me do it."

Wait..

"I'm told you I'm fine. It's just a cut."

Those voices..

[F/N] lowered her Kaiken. She stood, legs shaking. Heart pounding as she slowly called out.

"Michi-Nii? Yori-Nii?"

A sudden shuffling was heard in the room across from her.

The semi-shut shoji doors slammed open and out first came Michikatsu, Who had a semi-wrapped bandage around his arm with Yorichii following close after.

They were in their twenties now and were much older and their faces had changed a lot. But no matter how much they had physically changed [F/N] recognised her brothers, Who both now had surprised yet unrecognisable expressions in their face.

[F/N]'s mouth was open, Her eyes wide and sparkling with recognition.

"[F/N]..." Yorichii said.

"Yori-Nii! Michi-Ni-" She was cut off by the sudden arms pulling her into a tight hug. Michikatsu had moved so fast that she didn't see him move.

"[F/N].." He stuttered, Swaying back and forth while hugging her.

"Nii-san.." [F/N] cried, Gripping the back of his purple hexagonal hakama tightly as she buried her head into the side of his neck.

"You've grown so much.. And look at that" [F/N] grazed the hilt of of his sword, taking in the craftsmenship.

"You've both become swordsmen. I'm so proud, I wish I could've been there to see your ceremony" She whispered.

Michikatsu never responded to her words, instead going into a speech of his own.

"[F/N].. I lost you. You disappeared out of nowhere.. I searched for you for years.." Michikatsu was lost for words. If [F/N] didn't know better she could of sworn he was crying.

"I'm sorry, Michi-Nii. I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I went" [F/N] whispered.

The bear hug grip on her got tighter.

"Never. And I mean never leave me again. You have no idea what you put me through... You better promise" He scolded. [F/N] nodded vigorously.

"I promise."

☆♡☆

"So this is where you've been living for the past ten years?" Michikatsu asked, Looking around the haiden.

The place was a massive hall dedicated to worship of Inari. at the very end was the main worship shrine, Which was bustling with hand-woven straw baskets filled with offerings and lit candles in Inari's honour.

"Yeah.. When I ran away ten years I came across this place and made it my home. Been like that ever since." [F/N] smiled, Proud of the hall.

It was indeed very pretty, The new refurbished decorations of flowers, candles and banner-work created a grandiose appearance. The wooden pillars supported the tall height of the room and had beams at the top connecting them all with baskets filled with flowers hanging from them.

The entire room looked like it was built and cared for by an entire team of shrine maidens, Not a single dust spot to be seen.

Yorichii and Michikatsu stared in awe at the work.

"And you maintained this place all by yourself?" Yorichii asked, Genuinely in wonder at the décor.

"Well.. Apart from the occasional seller I meet when I'm scavenging for food nearest the road.. They sell me candles, Banners and other things needed for maintenance.. It's all done by me." [F/N] explained.

"It's.. Impressive. To think how you learned all this.." Michikatsu said.

"I get all my information from the shrine's library, From then on you figure it out on the way." [F/N] responded, Completely humble to the praise she received.

She turned around to her brothers with a smile.

"What about you two? Tell me what's been happening, And how'd you get that cut?" She asked innocently, Pointing to Michikatsu's bandaged arms

The two twins looked at each other, Having a silent conversation with each other. Contemplating what they should tell. Both of them very apprehensive, they shared a knowing look between them.

[F/N] frowned.

"..Is it not something you want to tell me?" She asked.

"Well.. It's hard to believe but-" Yorichii started.

"It’s just a mistake from sword training. Don't you worry about it." Michikatsu finished.

Yorichii looked over at him, Surprised at his sudden interruption.

[F/N]'s eyes narrowed. She felt curious but decided to drop the subject.

"Well anyways.. I need to go retrieve my fruit basket from outside and do my morning rounds around the shrine. Feel free to have a look around, Just please don't touch anything " [F/N] said, bowing her head low and heading towards the exit.

"Hold on, I'll come with you" Michikatsu said, He went to follow after his sister but was stopped when a hand pulled him back.

"Go on ahead, [F/N]. Michikatsu-Nii will catch up." Yorichii said. [F/N] nodded.

She said goodbye in the form of a hug, Michikatsu then Yorichii.

Michikatsu shot Yorichii a scorning look.

"What do you want?" Michikatsu hissed, The usual irritation of his brother turned up a notch.

"We need to tell her, Nii-san. So we can help her set up wisteria around the place." Yorichii argued.

Michikatsu gritted his teeth.

"Wisteria would be a good idea. But we don't need to tell her about demons, I mean look at her! She's still young" Michikatsu said, exasperated.

"She's eighteen, Nii-san. More than old enough to know about demons, about how to protect herself." Yorichii countered.

"She won't need to learn how to protect herself If I'm there to do it for her" Michikatsu hissed.

Yorichii's face scrunched up. He took a step forward towards Michikatsu and stood steady.

"Nii-san, I know you and [F/N] were attached by the hip when she was young but you can't always be there for her, She's strong enough to survive on her own but not strong enough to survive a possible demon attack, So we need to inform her. She won't let us plant wisteria around the shrine without a very good reason " Yorichii argued, His point stood stronger than he did.

Michikatsu's teeth gritted and his face was a visage of concealed anger like they were standing in the eye of the storm waiting for the inevitable onslaught.

"You always need to know better, Don't you Yorichii?" Michikatsu spat in a low tone.

Yorichii was surprised at Michikatsu's sudden animosity towards him, He was confused. This had never happened before.

"What do you mean to imply by that, Nii-san?" Yorichii asked, Slight worry coming over him for his brother who seemed restless.

Michikatsu suddenly became aware of his sudden outburst, His shoulders dropped from their previously stiff position. He sighed.

"Nothing... I shouldn't of spoke out like that." Michikatsu said, Quickly bowing his head to Yorichii he began to leave the shrine hall.

"Where are you going?" Yorichii called after him.

"To go find [F/N]. And make sure she's alright" He responded, Leaving the hall in search of his little sister.

☆♡☆

Michikatsu looked around the shrine for [F/N].

He walked the halls, checked the empty rooms, searched the courtyard, looked around the perimeter of the shrine and scoured through the shrine's impressively large and overflowing gardens but turned up empty.

He was frustrated. Where could she be? The forest surrounding the temple was fairly thick and shading and who knows? A demon might of been able to cover itself in the foliage and maybe she had left the shrine to pick up her basket only to come face to face with the monster and-

Michikatsu couldn't think anymore about it.

Sweat beads started forming on his head, What if she ran away? She couldn't, she sworn to him that she'd never leave him again. She couldn't of done that to him! What if she wasn't happy to see him and took the chance to leave while he was being lectured by Yorichii?

Yorichii.

Did she favour him over Michikatsu? When you were hugging him to say goodbye he could of sworn you had hugged Yorichii just a little bit tighter than him, Smiled a little bigger, Looked a little happier.

As he searched the halls for a second time he felt another burst of envy rise up in him, Something that had been occurring more and more lately.

His thoughts stopped when he stepped on an uneven dip in the ground. He felt around with his foot and outlined a frame of sorts.

He looked down to see he was standing on a rug. He then looked up realising that he was at the end of the hallway.

He reached down and pulled away the rug revealing a trapdoor, Assumedly leading down to the basement of the shrine.

A basement? Shrines don't usually have basements, He thought to himself.

He noticed the padlock on the handle was unlocked It was also spotless without a trace of dust, Indicating that it was used often.

He opened the door with a small creak of the wood. It revealed a short stone staircase which lead down to a low-ceiling hallway.

Michikatsu raised an eyebrow. He looked left and right before going down the stairs slowly. One step at a time.

He got down to the bottom of the stairs. The ceiling was certainly low as it grazed the top of Michikatsu's head making him feel uncomfortable in the small passageway.

He walked along the tunnel, each of his footsteps producing a faint echo as he went along. The tunnel was comparably cold to the early summer heat from up top.

At the end of the passageway was a wooden door, It looked old and rigid. Looking at the rest of the shrine this was a surprise for Michikatsu as the rest of it was pristine and in perfect shape compared to the derelict looking door.

He reached the door which he now realised was opened just a slight amount.

He pressed his ear to the door, Listening intently.

The sound of cloth on metal sounded on the other side. It was a sound he recognised well, It was polishing of a sword.

He pushed the door open to find [F/N] sitting on her knees with a strange looking sword in hand, a dry cloth in the other.

"Michi-Nii!" [F/N] jumped in surprise and dropped the cloth.

She sat in a much wider room than the hallway. The stone walls were filled with holding frames and shelves, The majority of them empty but still a good few holding rather precious looking trinkets.

At the end of the room which was facing the door and [F/N] held a sort of table harbouring a headpiece stand, Which was obviously suppose to hold the sword in her hands. It was also home to a kitsune mask hanging above it with eyes that looked like it was staring right through him.

"How'd you find the room?" [F/N] said rather surprised.

"Never mind how I found it. Why are you here?" He asked sternly, As if he was scorning a misbehaving child.

"Why am I in a room inside my own shrine?" [F/N] scoffed lightly.

"More of why didn't you tell me where you were, I was worried and I couldn't find you anywhere." He asked more forceful in tone.

[F/N] seemed confused at his reasoning but chalked it up to him still being a little shaken by their reunion.

"...I'm sorry... Coming in here to tend to the artefacts here is apart of my weekly rounds." She explained. A meek look appearing on her face.

Michikatsu sighed.

"Alright then. But please, Tell me next time you wander off into some hidden basement." He said in a softer voice leading to [F/N] calming down.

"What is this room anyways?" Michikatsu asked, Examining the room.

[F/N] peaked up, A sparkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Oh! Well according to the blueprints and builders logs I've found in the library this room was specially built to hold the shrine's treasures. Oh! Wait, hold on!" [F/N] exclaimed.

She reached over to the table in front of her and pulled out a fairly tiny roll of parchment paper, Unfolding it she displayed it to Michikatsu who looked down reading it.

"Apparently one of the noble-clanswoman paying for the building of the shrine here had a really steamy affair with some hot-shot samurai who use to gift her a TON of gifts" [F/N] explained with a passion, Her eyes held a glint of story.

"So to hide them away from her husband she built this little hidey-hole so he wouldn't discover them" She finished.

"What happened to her?" Michikatsu asked, Entertaining her passion.

She only shrugged though.

"No clue, The rest of the parchment was torn and I haven't found the other half..." She said, Disappointment filling her voice.

Michikatsu nodded and looked towards the sword in [F/N]'s lap.

"I can understand the other little objects around here but a sword?" Michikatsu said dumfounded.

[F/N] shook her head.

"No! No. The only two items in the room that weren't a gift was this sword and the kitsune mask hanging over there" She said, Pointing towards the kitsune mask hung by rope.

"Then what are they doing here?"

"They're the shintai that were suppose to be worshipped here at the shrine." [F/N] stretched over and tugged the hanging mask off the rope and presented both it and the sword to Michikatsu, Signalling him to take it.

As he did she told him to be careful while holding them.

The sword was nothing similar to any Katana he's wielded, Nor was it like anything he'd seen in the country. Instead it was built like a very large medieval English sword with the only hint of Japanese influence being the blue hilt which resembled the typical katana.

One side of the sharpened blade was covered in a sort of second sharper metal which glimmered azure in the dim light of the room.

The mask however was oddly designed compared to the usual festival mask. It was made of porcelain and its eyes were carved in a sort of wide eyed stare, The whites of it being a dark black and the pupils sapphire.

Thick cerulean marks adorned the mask, Swirling around the mask and centring at the bullseye of the mask. Except for the ears which were deeply patterned with swirls and flower-esque designs culminating at the covered tips.

The two items radiated a sort of energy from both which Michikatsu couldn't place.

"They're twin artefacts. It's said in the shrines folklore that they belonged to Inari Okami themselves gifted to them by their father, Izanagi. And from the heavens above they dropped them on accident and both the sword and the mask fell to here, The mortal realm" She explained with low wonder.

"The sword is named very bluntly as "The Soul Sword". It's called that because it's said by the previous shrine maidens that when a person is killed by the blade the soul of the person is absorbed into it and prevented from passing onto the afterlife. An eternity in the blade." She told as if it was rehearsed, It probably was.

She pointed to the Mask

"The mask however isn't named but it's said to warp the body of the user to their desire, Disguising themselves completely." She said.

"And does it work?" Michikatsu asked, Studying the mask.

"Haven't tried. It's a sacred artefact of the shrine. It would be a disrespect to Inari if I did." She stated.

Michikatsu examined both of the artefacts as [F/N] rambled away on the tale of the two, They were very well kept.

"You really know a lot about this stuff. Don't you?" He said more of to himself.

[F/N] nodded.

"Yeah. I guess it's just something I'm passionate about" She muttered.

Suddenly, Their conversation was interrupted by a voice upstairs calling out.

"Nii-San! [F/N]!" Yorichii called out from up above them, Voice faint and muffled from the thick stone walls.

Michikatsu groaned being mildly annoyed at being interrupted by Yorichii. [F/N] perked up however.

"That's Yorichii. Better go see what he needs!" She said. [F/N] grabbed both the sword and the mask from Michikatsu's grasp and settling them back with care onto their designed positions, As well as rolling up the parchment paper and putting it under the table

She dusted off her beryl coloured haori and got up from the tatami mat she was sitting on.

"Come on, Better not keep him waiting!" [F/N] said making her way out without waiting for Michikatsu, Who quickly followed after.

They made their way back up the stairs to find Yorichii a few metre's down the hall. He was standing there watching them come up with an arm stretched out, A crow perched neatly on it with a small roll of parchment paper tied to its neck by a string.

"What is it, Yorichii?" Michikatsu asked eyeing the crow.

"Oyataka-sama has summoned us to the headquarters, Urgent meeting." Yorichii said, a tint of unhappiness in his voice.

Michikatsu's face scrunched up in resentment, Obviously not excited by the news.

[F/N] frowned.

"..You've got to leave?" She asked looking up at Michikatsu who looked back with her with an expression saying that he didn't want to. But Yorichii's voice maintained importance.

"..I suppose so.." He said reluctantly. Not wanting to leave his sister alone. His eyes expanded with an idea formed in his head.

"Why don't you come with us, [F/N]?" Michikatsu asked going to stand next to Yorichii. The crow once perched on his arm squawked once. And with a flap of its wings it took off out an ajar window.

[F/N]'s palms suddenly got sweaty at the thought. Her shoulders felt heavy and slumped down with her face portraying one of heavy adversion

She shook her head, Michikatsu's face fell.

"It's not a long trip if that's what you're worried about, If you get tired we can get a horse or I could carry you-" Michikatsu was cut off by [F/N]'s hum of disapproval.

"It's not the trip. It's just I really don't want to leave the shrine unattended y'know?" She asserted. Evidently after spending an entire decade in it's walls she had grown dependant and attached so much to the point she couldn't journey far out of it.

"You can leave the shrine for a few days. Just please come with us, It'll be fine." Michikatsu reasoned, a small ounce of anxiety rising up into his chest at the thought of her being left.

[F/N] shook her head again.

"No, I'm sorry. But it's not forever, You can still come visit!" She spouted in an asking tone, Waiting for him to confirm.

Michikatsu shared a look with Yorichii. Yorichii's look told him he agreed with their sister while Michikatsu's only told of aversion.

However feeling outnumbered in the situation he reluctantly sighed and agreed to [F/N]'s proposal.

With a heavy heart and bag of food [F/N] prepared for their journey, Michikatsu spared one last look to see her before heading out into the forest.

☆♡☆

In the five months that passed from that day forward were probably the happiest days of [F/N]'s life.

Every few days her brothers would come and visit her at the shrine after a mission and they'd stay for around two days before the crow came along and the process started all over again.

She'd even arranged them their own little rooms and the crow would come in advance to announce their arrival so she could prepare them food.

It was nice to be reunited with her family after a decade of solitude. The routine they got into was nice and became sort of domestic.

Though, Over the months [F/N] couldn't help but notice a sort of tension between Michikatsu and Yorichii however it was one-sided. Only Michikatsu initiated it while Yorichii was none the wiser.

It seemed more aggressive as the months went on. Michikatsu focused more on his training similar to what he did when they were younger. He'd have more hostility towards Yorichii and weirdest of all he seemed much more clingy and possessive towards her.

However [F/N] didn't like to think of it. While she knew it was there and she knew they'd have to talk about it at some point, She decided that it'd be better to wait for the right time to bring it up.

Everyday [F/N] would get up at around seven in the morning to do her rounds, Collect food and pray to Inari for an hour or two before going out to the main wooden shrine steps to sit and wait for her brothers to return.

When they did they would eat together, They'd tell stories of their mission no matter how surface level and vague they described it. They'd train outside in the courtyard while [F/N] watched from the steps in awe at their skill.

She recalled back to her childhood and her dream of becoming a samurai like her brothers, While it was true she now favoured the shrine over that old fairy-tale it didn't mean that she still didn't ponder over it often, Daydream while she brushed the floors, Envision the swing of a sword when she spun the brush around.

However of course, It was just a pipe dream. Just a silly pipe dream. But often she asked herself: Why not both?

[F/N] watched Michikatsu from the steps as he practiced sword swings in the shrine courtyard, Taking occasional glances at his sister to make sure she was watching him. The thought ran throughout her head. While she hadn't picked up a sword before other than The Soul Sword (Which at times, She lightly swung it around before setting it down. Then right after feeling ashamed for using a sacred artefact she proceeded to pray for forgiveness at the altar)

She was sure she could try.

While Michikatsu was swinging his sword she had got up from the step with a stumble. She wobbled a little and grabbed the handle bars to steady herself.

She took a deep breath and slowly walked down the stairs which suddenly seemed like a herculean task.

She set her sandal-covered feet onto the courtyard with an unnecessary effort and started walking towards Michikatsu who was only a few metre's ahead of her.

With every step she took her body seemed to get heavier. It felt like weights were being tied to her ankles every time she lifted her foot.

The distance seemed to widen between her and her brother. Her eyelids seemed to get heavier too.

And with another single undignified step her knees collapsed on her. She fell down to the floor with a thump! as her body relaxed and crumpled over on the ground.

Her eyes got blurry as she saw Michikatsu rush over to her tired body and listened to him shout out something she couldn't hear

She closed her eyes and untensed her body. Falling into the pitch black void of unconciousness.

☆♡☆

[F/N] lay motionless in her bed.

A wet cloth lay over her forehead and a light blanket was lain on top of her.

It was two months since that day she collapsed. She was carried by Michikatsu and was rushed to the nearest village where she was seen by a doctor who gave her the diagnosis.

It was her mothers illness, Turning out to be hereditary and passed down onto [F/N]. However this seemed to be more severe and had developed into later stages quickly.

The doctor had said that she should be put in bedrest but despite Michikatsu's yelling and paranoid yelling there was no cure.

The first few days consisted of Michikatsu being hunched over her bed refusing to leave her side. Over the two months he had grown even worse than he did before.

He was angry before. Competitive, Hostile, Aggressive you name it. But now?

Now he was paranoid, Jumpy, Clingy piled on with all of those traits before.

Yorichii couldn't get through to him, He didn't hide his ire towards Yorichii now and hissed insults at him whenever he tried to speak to Michikatsu.

The first month was Michikatsu searching for a cure. He'd travel from village to village trying to find a doctor who could cure [F/N]. He scoured the Shrine's libraries and had gone mad trying.

Four days ago he had told [F/N] that he was going out again and that she was not to leave her bed unless she was going to get food or do her prayers, Which [F/N] had begged to be allowed.

He had stocked up enough food and water in the pantry for his trip when he left.

He told her that he would be back in two days, It was four now. Yorichii had been with her the first month but after he was called out on a very important mission he never came back.

When she asked Michikatsu what happened to him, He wouldn't tell her.

To say [F/N] was worried was an understatement. Michikatsu was never late, He'd always sent his crow to let her know even if he was.

Suddenly she was aware of a loud creaking. The main shrine gates.

Michikatsu must be back, [F/N] thought. A rush of excitement ran through her and overpowered the cold sweat of her sickness.

She'd gotten up from her futon and wrapped herself in her blanket to prevent the cold winter air from bothering her too much.

It was snowing outside. A blizzard had grown strong while she had slept earlier. Before when she was well in the health department she had prepared well for the winter and could survive during it, Making the inside of the shrine warm all throughout the season.

Now however that she depended on her brothers who were nowhere to be found the cold permeated the hallways and stung the tips of her fingers and nose.

She shivered and slid open the shoji doors to hobble through the hallways towards the courtyard, Ready to greet Michikatsu.

However when she quietly opened the door she wasn't greeted by Michikatsu. But instead two strange men with swords standing in the snowstorm. who hadn't seem to notice her yet

"This is it? Seems rundown." One of the men said

"According to his crow this is where he has been staying for the past few months. He must be here, Someone must pay for what he did and hiding here won't prevent what's coming to him." The other growled, Anger etched onto his features.

[F/N], A little insulted at her shrine being called run down, Made herself known by letting out a loud cough.

"Who are you? And what are you doing at my shrine?" The girl asked

The two looked up at the source. Their hands jumped to their sheathed swords as they looked up at her in antagonism.

They slowly approached her, So much so that they were now standing under the wooden porch roof.

[F/N] stumbled back in a way of getting distance between her and the men.

The one that called her shrine rundown stepped forward. He bowed down in respect to her.

"Greetings there. We're sorry to trouble you but we're looking for a man. His name is Yorichii Tsugikuni. He wears hanafuda earing's and his hair in a ponytail. Have you seen him anywhere?" He said.

Swords. Right. These must be Yorichii's colleagues. [F/N] relaxed slightly.

"Oh, You two must be his co-workers!" She exclaimed, Relief flooding her system.

She curtsied in respect.

"My name is [F/N] Tsugikuni. I am his younger sister, Unfortunately I haven't seen him for a month or two and I don't know where he's been. Apologies." I sighed.

The two men looked at each other.

"Sister? You're his sister?" The angrier one said, A hint of hostility in his voice.

Suddenly a chill ran up her spine, Something was wrong.

"Uhm.. Yes." [F/N] said with caution. Though she was tempted to lie, It just wasn't in her nature.

The angrier man now referred to as Man A gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword tighter.

"Well. I don't know if you know this but two months ago your brother... Messed up, Per se. Causing a great loss towards the demon corps..." He said. His words implied something unknown to [F/N]. The corners of her lips twitched. Demon corps? Messed up? The meaning eluding her.

"A lot of people got hurt. Including our father." Man A sneered. His face the exact visage of vengeance.

Man B behind him wasn't as such but still held a face of stone.

The realisation of what was happening hit [F/N] like a freight train. Her hands grew sweaty as they quickly rushed the shoji doors.

"I... I am so sorry to hear that. B-But unfortunately my brother isn't here right now... I've got to go tend to the haiden. Please, Come back later." Her voice trembled and shook despite how much she tried to keep her tone steady and confident.

As her hands tried to quickly shut the shoji doors the metal of a sword stopped the doors from opening fully.

[F/N] yelped and stumbled back from the door. The two men forced their way into the shrine hallway. [F/N] felt her back hit the wall.

"I'm sorry about what is to happen. But Yorichii Tsugikuni needs to pay for what he did and the death of his sister will bring about our revenge. Please forgive us." Man B said finally unsheathing his sword.

Run.

[F/N]'s feet grew light as she took off down the shrine hall, The two men hot on her tail as she careened round the corners and throughout the shrine.

She felt her heart pound heavy in her chest. Both from the almost paralysing fear and the illness coursing throughout her system.

Her legs felt weak but carried on. Her pace just a little bit faster than the men behind her despite all odds, She unconsciously thanked the hours she spent out in the woods running around for resources.

Tears burst like a dam from her eyes and flew from her eyes as she sprinted. Choked sobs periodically interrupted the heavy breaths she took from running.

The faster she ran, The more corners she turned the more thoughts ran rampant throughout her head.

Exits? Only the main gate which she was currently running away from and were closed on the way in, It takes too much time to open those doors and the men would catch up to her in no time. Convince them to stop? Impossible. The men seemed determined in their goal and no amount of talking would change anything. The hidden room? On the other side of the shrine and she didn't have the key on her

[F/N] had gained a bit of distance from the men at this point, Having shook them off her trail for a very short amount of time.

She ran to where her heart took her, To the place she felt safest.

The offering hall which use to look bright and full of flowers, baskets of food and was spotless now was empty and cold. The candles went long unlit and a bit of dust built up and went into the air when she slammed open the doors, Making her cough.

[F/N] ran to the altar with her legs trembling. She fell to her knees in front of it crying her eyes out. Her body positioned into its usual prayer formation as she choked out her sobs.

"Please! Inari. I-I'm going to die... I haven't asked for anything from the day I've got here... Please spare my life.. L-Let me live! I don't want to die, Inari. Please.. Please.." [F/N] broke down in front of the altar as she chanted please over and over again like a sacred sutra.

She wailed quietly in front of the shrine letting all her emotions out from her eyes.

She never noticed the men standing behind her as she prayed. Their expressions serious and unaffected by the girl's unheard prayers.

Man A raised his katana. Holding it in his grasp he raised it high above his head.

And with a yell he swiftly brought it down.

Blood splattered the offerings room. Drenching the two men and the girl below, The blade going straight through her back.

☆♡☆

Cold.

It was so cold.

The men had left her there bleeding, How long ago she didn't know.

She had made her way out of the shrine. Past the main doors, Past the entrance gate and the pathway and out into the main part of the forest.

The blade had went right through her chest out the other side, She gripped it tightly while the blood stained her dragon-patterned haori colouring it crimson.

It was a miracle she had got this far out into the blizzard. The tip of her nose had frozen and her jaw chattered letting out cold air.

She weakly turtled into her haori for warmth however it proved futile.

The white snow behind her left a red trail as she walked.

Soon enough it was too much.

Soon enough, She collapsed.

☆♡☆

Quickly throughout the forest, Kokushibo ran quickly up the mountain through the unrelenting blizzard, Which never stung him in the slightest.

It had only been a few hours since he woke up from consuming that man's blood. His appearance now changed from the transformation which took three days to complete.

He carried a vial of that mans blood in one of his hands. He remembered the deal vividly in his mind.

Strength for him, A way to become stronger. Stronger than his brother. A way to avoid the eventual fate of all those who bore the demon slayer mark.

And a vial of that man's blood to save his dying sister.

He ran like hell. Snow crunching from the rapid footsteps behind him.

He stopped however, When the faintest scent of blood invaded his senses.

All three sets of his eyes widened.

He picked up his pace again. Now heading toward the smell.

His heartrate picked up. It couldn't be. It can't. [F/N] was alright. She was okay. Even now after becoming a demon, He still felt possessiveness affection towards his sister.

He came to a halt.

His heart dropped to his stomach as he tried to comprehend the sight in front of him. His eyes widened and his jaw slack open.

There in the snow, Lay a body curled up in a fetal position.

Snow had built up on it. It lay motionless buried in the snow.

He recognised it as [F/N].

"[F/N]!!" He yelled, running over to the body.

He fell to his knees in front of her and shoved off all the built up snow.

He pulled her body so her head was laying down on his lap. He shook her gently.

"...[F/N].. Wake up. Come on." He whispered. His shaking now growing more frantic to her lack of response.

He looked at the vial in his right hand.

Opening her mouth he popped open the seal and poured the red liquid into her mouth.

He watched it pour onto her tongue and down her throat. He waited for the reaction.

However, Nothing came.

He waited and waited. Nothing.

He felt his eyes water and flow out from them as the dawning realisation hit him.

He was holding his little sister's corpse in his arms.

He couldn't protect her. She had died and he wasn't there to protect her.

He yelled, Screamed and cried. In anger, Frustration, Sorrow, Guilt and mourning for his loss. He couldn't do anything.

However when he finally noticed the stab wound he realised this was murder. He could do something.

He carried his sister's body in his arms and pulled her close to his chest as he quietly grieved for her.

He brought her body back to her beloved shrine and set her down at the head of the shrine where she loved the most.

He'd deal with her body later. But for now he had to get revenge for the death of his little sister.

Using his blood demon art to make a sword he gripped it tight.

He set off into the blizzard already with a scent on the targets.

He looked back once at the shrine. The last remaining parts of his humanity dying in there with his sister

And with that he left. Never to look back again.

☆♡☆

It was five hundred years ago.

Kokushibo began reminiscing when he sat in front of her gravestone. What he did that night.

He had gotten his revenge, The two slayers slowly tortured and then eaten by him. Their screams and their pleads for mercy when they showed [F/N] none.

He had started with the fingers and toes, Then he moved up to the lower limbs, Slowly he ate them alive. He made one of them watch him while he ate, All before he moved onto them.

He made them confess who killed her to which after a little persuasion they admitted easily.

They got the worst of it, He didn't even eat him after the torture. Just left him pinned to a tree bleeding out. He had put him up high only giving him the options of freezing to death, bleeding out or dying from the fall.

The memories rewound in his head like a film. Flashing memories of when she was born and he got to cradle her in his arms. All the way up until he only held her lifeless corpse, Killed too soon.

He had mourned for a long time after that, Never really getting over her death, Not even now as he set down the new flowers on her grave built near the house they grew up in.

He couldn't bring himself to consume her body, He could never. It was too much.

He got up and dusted himself off, Just like she use to do.

He turned away and walked into the night, Melding into the shadows as he went off to find his next meal.

☆♡☆

The morning rays shun down on the Ubuyashiki Estate. Flowers in full bloom with wisteria ripe in the air.

Birds chirped and grasshoppers hummed in the bushes. The neatly trimmed and well kept garden a fit home for them

The Hashira had gathered and stood in front of the porch awaiting the arrival of their master. They talked amongst themselves in the meantime.

Mitsuri, The Love Hashira tugged on the hand of another. A soft smile gracing her face.

"Fujimori-san! You should really come out with me sometime, It's been ages since we've done something together!" Mitsuri teased lightly.

Fujimori laughed lightly from behind the kitsune mask with cerulean markings he (he?) wore. The medival english looking sword positioned in front of him pointing downward, His two hands gripping the katana-like hilt.

He was tall and muscular but had more of an athletic build. He had tattoo's from his neck to his lower arms describing pictures typically seen in shrine art.

His blue dragon-patterned haori that was draped around his lower arms lightly wove in the wind along with his [H/C] locks tied into a ponytail.

"What do you mean? We went on a mission together last week!" He chuckled.

Mitsuri huffed and lightly gripped his hand

"When I mean spend time together I mean like we should go to a hot spring or go out to eat together or-" Mitsuri continued rambling on as she listed off possible activities they could do together.

Fujimori, [F/N] listened intently onto her as she talked.

She (She? She.) however was only thinking of his visions: A sick woman, A woman with fox markings and a man in a purple hakama.

She'd need to figure it out later.

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