#butterfly hair clips(?) and pigtails

[musubiki]

I miss ikasumi how is she 😫

shes good!!!! heres a beta timeskip doodle design i had sitting in wips hehe

[coldfanbou]

Breaking Out

Haneul finally gets to have her chance after watching Belle for the first time.

Length 2.8K

Haneul x Belle x Mreader

Previous Part

A few weeks had passed since Belle had had her fun, and Haneul had watched from the closet. She had slowly been corrupting the young woman, watching porn together and letting Haneul explore her potential kinks that way. 

From the corner of the room, Belle stared at Haneul, watching the younger woman look through her closet. A smile on her lips, Belle can’t help but chuckle. “You’re putting too much thought into it, Haneul. Why don’t you let me choose your outfit?”

Haneul looks over at her friend, hesitant to agree. “Um, okay.” She says, taking a step back and glancing at the ground. She worries about the older woman choosing something far too revealing for her. 

The moment Belle hears the go-ahead, she stands up and begins looking through the closet. “No, no, not this,” she mumbles while going through Haneul’s clothes. “Oh, this is good.” Belle pulls out one of Haneul’s bralettes, handing it to her before switching her focus to the bottoms. 

“I can’t go out wearing just this unnie.” Belle ignores the complaints, continuing to search through the closet.

“Oh, this is going to be perfect.” Belle turns around with a blue pair of short shorts. “These two together are going to be great.”

“Unnie, I can’t go out in just this.”

Belle acquiesced because she didn’t have much more wiggle room with Haneul. “Okay, okay.” At that moment, she had a thought, though, “Wait! I have just the thing.” Belle spun on her heel and looked through her closet, rummaging through it before finding just the shirt she was looking for. “Here, wear this over your bra.” Haneul looked down at the piece of clothing Belle was offering—a simple white T-shirt. As she held it up, Haneul understood what Belle was going for. The shirt was open in the middle, with the bra under it showing just enough skin to attract attention but not too much skin to be revealing. “Better?”

“Better,” Haneul responded, feeling better about the outfit. 

“Alright, then, let’s get you ready. I know just what to do with your hair.” She gave Haneul a wink, letting her get dressed before beginning to work on her hair, giving her pigtails, and putting on some butterfly clips to give her a cute look. Watching the transformation happen in real-time, Haneul couldn’t help but smile, feeling pretty as she looked in the mirror. “There, you’re all set; let me get changed.” Belle pats the younger woman’s head before gathering her clothes and changing in front of Haneul; after their experience together, Belle has no shame in changing in front of her. She loves knowing Haneul has her eyes on her.

She didn't take long to change, and soon, the two were out the door, headed toward an outdoor event the university had set up. They walked out into the quad, Belle holding Haneul’s hand as she scanned the crowded area. “I’ll find someone for us.” Haneul nodded, a little nervous. Though she knew how it would go, Haneul was still anxious about her first time. Belle smiled at her and led her into the crowd; looking around, Belle watched as people played games and generally enjoyed themselves in the summer heat. She noticed some people running around with water guns, squirting people before running away. Then she spotted you; you were someone she had experience with, and she knew you would be willing to have her and Haneul. Belle began moving toward you, figuring she could accidentally bump into you after you shot at someone with your water gun. 

Belle looked over at Haneul and pointed you out, recognizing you. Haneul nodded. With a smile, Belle led the younger woman behind you. After soaking another pair of women, you turned around, bumping into Haneul and knocking her over. Belle acted surprised, more amused than anything in her mind. It was an awkward position for you and Haneul; your knee was between her legs, and your hands were on either side of her head. The young woman’s face turned red instantly; it was the closest she had been to a man. She brought her hands up, covering her face. You get up quickly, and Belle helps Haneul to her feet. 

“Hi there.” Belle runs her fingers up your chest, “You are just the man I was looking for.”

“I- Sorry,” you say, apologizing to Haneul, who waves you off. Turning your attention back to Belle, you ask her why she was looking for you. 

“Well, you see, Haneul here was looking to get some action.” Belle pushes the younger woman forward and wraps her hands around Haneul’s waist. ���I thought you would be willing to help us.” Belle lowered her voice; you could barely hear her. “Don’t you want to ruin this cutie?” She said, squeezing Haneul. The younger woman shuddered, imagining what you would do to her. 

You look around before agreeing. “When do you want to do it.”

“Hmm, Haneul, when do you want it?” Belle responds, placing her head on Haneul’s shoulder.

“I, um, want it tonight.” She says hesitantly. 

You nod, “Alright, I’ll see you tonight.”

Belle lets go of the younger woman and pushes a key into your hand, “You’ll need that to get into our dorm. Come at eight, okay?” You give her a nod and watch the women walk away. Belle and Haneul enjoy themselves for the rest of the day. Haneul’s head is filled with thoughts of you, though clear memories of your knee between her legs make her wet. Belle noticed the younger woman being lost in thought as they hung out and pulled her away from the crowd. “Thinking about later tonight?”

“Y-yeah,” Haneul responded with a slight nod.

“We’ve spent a good amount of time out here, so let's get back to the dorm.” Belle checked her phone for the time before walking home. It was half past six. 

Once inside the dorm, Belle led Haneul to the shower. Haneul stopped in her tracks, pulling against Belle. “Where are we going?”

“Come on, we need to get you ready. Let’s take a quick shower.” Belle pulls the younger woman into the bathroom, helping strip her down before taking her own clothes off. 

Inside the shower, with warm water running down their bodies, Belle teased her friend, running her hands up and down Haneul’s body. “I can’t believe I get to watch you duck someone for the first time.” Moving one hand down to Haneul’s slit, Belle gently ran her fingers between the younger woman’s folds. Haneul gasped, whining as Belle’s slender finger teased her entrance. “He’s really good too. He’ll make you feel really good, Haneul.” Belle reached for Haneul’s breast, the small mound perfectly fitting in the palm of her hand. She spread her fingers and closed them, trapping Haneul’s nipple between her index and middle finger. 

“Ahh, Belle,” the younger woman moaned as her friend pinched her nipple with one hand and pushed into her slit with the other. Haneul began leaning back against Belle, her legs growing weak as Belle curled her fingers and hit her G-spot. 

“You’re so cute when you moan, Haneul. I can’t wait to hear you beg for his cock.” Belle giggled, pushing her fingers in deeper. She felt Haneul’s wall squeeze down on her fingers and looked over the younger woman’s shoulder, “Are you going to cum?” Haneul nodded quickly and bit her bottom lip, struggling to keep herself together. “Cum for me, baby.” She said in a husky voice. Haneul’s knees bent inward, and she leaned forward as she was pushed over the edge and came on Belle’s fingers. “Mmm, that’s a good girl,” she said, kissing Haneuls ear. Shutting off the water, Belle remained standing, holding Haneul up until she recovered her strength. 

Drying themselves off, Belle moved to the couch, remaining naked as she waited for you. It was only a few minutes away from eight pm. Sitting back, Belle ran her finger between her lips, teasing herself as she waited. Haneul sat beside the older woman and watched, growing wet. “You just came, but you want more, don’t you?” With a nod, Belle leaned over, pushing Haneul onto her back and pressing her lips against Haneul’s. “You’re a horny little girl, aren’t you?”

Haneul nods quickly, “I need you.”

“That’s something for you to say to our friend when he gets here. Belle moved down, kissing Haneul’s neck while teasing the younger woman’s clit, using her fingernail to circle the sensitive nub slowly. Haneul began to whimper as the older woman toyed with her body again. 

Outside the dorms, you were finding your way to Belle and Haneul’s place, looking at the key number and then the numbers on the wall until you found the right room. You use the key and walk in, immediately being greeted with the sight of Belle’s ass as she lay on top of Haneul. You close the door behind you, alerting the women. “Oh, you’re here!” Belle shouts as she climbs off Haneul. “Let me get you ready.” She says, walking over to you and leading you to the couch. Belle sits you down, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down before pulling out your cock. Haneul watches beside you as Belle wraps her lip around the tip of your cock and gently sucks on it. Her eyes shift between Belle and you, watching your expression change as pleasure courses through you. You groan as Belle’s tongue swirls around your cock; you had nearly forgotten how good she was. 

Belle runs her hand along your shaft as she pulls away from you. “Haneul, come help me,” she says with a smile. Haneul moves off the couch, kneeling beside Belle and staring at your cock. “Here, you try.” Belle looks at the younger woman expectantly, watching as Haneul lowers her head and kisses the tip of your cock. 

Her lips were soft, and you continued to feel them as Haneul kissed your shaft. Belle smiled but knew this was her way of avoiding doing more. She nudged Haneul. The younger woman glanced at her friend before taking a deep breath and wrapping her lips around your cock, her tongue clumsily moving around the tip of your cock. Haneul wasn’t as good as Belle, but she was doing enough. You moaned her name, encouraging her as she began bobbing her head. 

Belle watched for a little bit before deciding to add to your pleasure. She cupped your balls, giving them gentle squeezes before pressing her lips against them. She kissed each one, whispering about how heavy they were. Belle’s words turned you on, helping push you toward your first orgasm. The older woman rose, pulling your shirt off you simultaneously. She kissed your neck and whispered, “Cum in her mouth; she wants to taste you.” You bucked your hips, rubbing against the roof of her mouth as you came. Haneul managed to swallow some of your cum before being forced away. The remaining spurts painted her face, covering her cheeks and running down her face. Belle smiled as she looked down at the surprised woman. Haneul was stunned but ran her tongue along her lips, tasting your salty cum. Belle ran a finger up the younger woman’s cheek, scooping some up to try herself. “Just as good as last time. Do you like it, Haneul?”

“It’s salty.”

“But it’s nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” the younger woman says, scraping your cum off her cheeks to drink it all. Belle takes Haneul’s hands, guiding her onto your lap. You look at the young woman; her hair is messy, and a lustful look in her eyes that goes against her innocent face. Belle teases you both, taking your cock and rubbing it against her folds. “B-belle, don’t tease me,” Haneul says, surprising the older woman.

“Oh? What do you want me to do?” With a smirk across her face, Belle wants to hear Haneul beg. 

“Put it in,”

“I never thought you’d ask me for something like this.” Belle aligns your cock with Haneul’s slit and gives you the go-ahead. You push inside, Haneul’s walls squeezing your cock as you stretch her cunt. You hold onto Haneul’s waist, slowly pulling her onto your cock as you both fill the room with moans. Belle comes from behind to play with Haneul’s body, pinching the younger woman’s nipples and tugging on them as she kisses her neck. “Go ahead, Haneul. Say it. I know what you’ve been watching.” Haneul shakes her head, refusing to reveal what she deemed as embarrassing. Belle pouts and moves your hands away. “There’s something Haneul wants to say to you. You should wait until she’s said it.” Haneul whines as she feels your cock stop moving and tries to grind against you but is held in place by Belle. “Come on, baby. Say it.”

You wait to hear what Haneul has to say. It takes some coaxing by Belle, but eventually, Haneul breaks down, “I want Daddy to cum in me!” She whines loudly. Though you had never thought about yourself in that manner, having Haneul call you that made your cock harder. 

“You hear that, Daddy. Haneul wants you to fuck her hard. She’s been spending a lot of nights fingering herself. She’s been desperate for a nice hard cock…”Belle lowers her voice, “and she wants your cum inside her.” Belle pushes Haneul down onto your cock, letting your length sit inside her. “Go on, fuck her, Daddy.” You stare into Haneul’s eyes, seeing the truth in them, and begin thrusting. She bounces on your cock, moaning the instant you start moving. Belle smiles and plays with Haneul’s tits again, reveling in the sound of the younger woman’s whines. Her tight cunt squeezes you roughly as she moves along your cock. Haneul can feel herself being pushed toward her climax. It had barely been a few minutes, but feeling your cock deep inside her cunt was everything she had imagined sex to be like. Haneul was losing herself. 

“I’m going to cum, Daddy!” She whined, wrapping her arms around you as you continued to thrust into her pussy. Haneul reached her climax soon after, her walls clamping down on your cock as her body shuddered. You continued thrusting as you approached your orgasm; you felt Haneul pull you in tighter, “Inside, Daddy, inside,” She cried moments before you brought her down on your cock and began filling her with your cum. Haneul felt a rush of warmth as your cum poured into her, painting her walls white as it made its way to her womb. 

Belle smiled as she watched Haneul be pumped full of your cum. She sat beside you, running her hand down Haneul’s back until she managed to recover. Haneul’s grip slowly loosened. Eventually, she leaned back, looking down and seeing the connection between you and her. Belle kissed Haneul’s cheek before kissing yours. “Great job, Daddy. Now it’s my turn.” Haneul slowly unmounted you, your cum running down her inner thighs. “I’ll clean you up, Haneul,” Belle uttered, seeing an opportunity to return the favor from the night this all began. 

Haneul laid on her back, tiredly spreading her legs. Belle took charge quickly, plunging her tongue into Haneul’s folds and eating your cum from her cunt. She raised her ass, waiting for you to take her. You got behind Belle and pushed into her cunt. Enjoying the snug fit as you begin thrusting. You wrap your arm around her, playing with her clit to bring her to a quick climax. Belle moaned into Haneul’s cunt, struggling to focus on eating her out as she felt you drive your cock into her and play with her clit. You and Haneul weren’t going to last too long. Still sensitive from your orgasm, Haneul was made to cum first. Belle’s skilled tongue pushed the young woman to her climax. Haneul cried out as she came for the third time today, promptly passing out after. With her friend down for the count, Belle focused on you, tightening her core and squeezing your cock as you thrust. 

She began to moan loudly, too, though you played with her clit, becoming rougher with her as you got closer to your orgasm. “That’s not fair,” Belle whined as she felt your other hand squeeze her tit. You reached your climax first, burying yourself inside Belle. You filled her with your cum much like you did, Haneul. It was just enough to make Belle cum; her walls tightened around your cock, milking you for more. You lean back, bringing Belle with you. Her back was against your chest as you both took deep breaths. “That was great.”

“Yeah, it was,”

Belle paused, considering her words. “How about you be our little fuck buddy? Haneul and I would love to get your cock more often.” Feeling your cock get hard inside her, Belle chuckled. “So I guess that’s a yes. We can get each other’s number later. Let’s just enjoy this for now.” The two of you relaxed, enjoying the afterglow of your orgasms.

[cryb4byem]

Purgatorium Part II

Kyojuro Rengoku x ArrangedMarriage! Reader

cw: 14.1k words, canon typical violence/injury, alcoholism, mild parental abuse/neglect

part one here

Every cell. Every fiber felt like it was trying to break free from your body. You had no idea what you were about to learn, and your implosion felt inevitable if you didn’t find out. 

The head of the Butterfly Mansion, the Insect Hashira, greeted you at the door. “Thank you for coming so swiftly, and by yourself. I am aware of your father-in-law's condition as well as how young your brother-in-law is.” She slid on a pair of white linen gloves before continuing.

“I’m sure you would like to know why my crow alerted you so suddenly.” If you weren’t wracked with panic, you would’ve admired her graceful, natural beauty. It seemed her almost enigmatic equanimity was the only thing keeping those around her, including you from spiraling. 

Her measured countenance and calm voice couldn’t have contrasted more with the state of the room around her. Three kakushi were slumped over each other, their faces to the wall quietly crying. Meanwhile other small girls with similar butterfly hair clips went in and out of the room beyond her with a controlled franticness. 

“Please listen to me carefully.” Her amethyst eyes pierced yours with a seriousness that was frankly, unsettling. “There was a confrontation between the Flame Pillar and the 3rd most powerful demon of Kibutsuji’s ranks about an hour ago.” Your breath catches in your throat, at the words. The 3rd most powerful demon? 

“He sustained severe transfixion trauma to his epigastric region. We moved quickly, and kept the demon’s limb in place as long as we could, and in that time he was able to stop most of the blood loss using a breathing technique.” Your hand shakily covers your mouth, the savagery of the attack, and the horror of such an injury were almost too much for you. 

“The amount of pain he is managing while conscious is unnatural, and quite concerning. We have been trying to sedate him since he arrived, but he begged to wait until you got here.” Her sharp gaze left you finally, shifting to the floor. “Despite his state, he was quite stubborn, and resisted our attempts to give it to him anyway.” 

You speak in a tensed whisper, “C-can I see him?” Each syllable was dragged from the pit of your body, you needed every bit of strength to not lose all composure. 

“Yes, quickly please. I trust you understand the criticality of this situation.” Shinobu looked over her shoulder to a young girl with bright blue eyes and pigtails as she turned into the room that seemed to be at the heart of the commotion in the Butterfly Mansion. 

“Aoi… please pull up the sheet on the Flame Pillar.” The girl’s brow furrowed in concentration, releases as she sees you, expression softening as she nods to Shinobu before disappearing behind the room’s entryway. 

“You can go ahead now.” Shinobu tells you finally. Upon her permission you begin hurrying into the room Aoi just turned into. “I just want to remind you we are doing all we can, and he is relatively stable for now… but… just be prepared…” 

You look over your shoulder back at Shinobu, words failing you before going in. The air hung heavy beyond the doorway, three little girls stood to the back wall awaiting orders while the slightly older girl, Aoi lighty ran a damp cloth over Kyojuro’s forehead. Delusionally, you imagined it was due to his warmth, the perpetual warmth emanating from his body everywhere he went, and not the onset of a stress induced fever and intense pain.

He laid, left eye wrapped in layers of bandage wrapping around his head, the thin hospital bed linens drawn to the base of his neck. Each of his labored inhale and exhale audible, a testament to his will actively clinging him to consciousness and keeping the looming threat of bleeding out at bay. 

His right eye fluttered open at your presence even without saying a word, the keen instincts of a warrior sharp as ever. 

“My flam-ACK.” He jumped to sit up, only for a guttural cough to send an abrupt jolt through his body, putting him onto his back. Laying immobilized once again, his breathing intensifying. 

“Rengoku-sama! Your wound! Shinobu-san told you not to move!” The little voice of one of the young girls behind you calls out her voice cracking, riddled with fear. 

His face contorts in discomfort, straining to utter “My apologies…” The words tumble out almost as if he doesn’t even know who he is saying it to; the little girls, you, himself, or maybe someone not even there. 

You look deeply into his uninjured eye, the bright golden orb that even now was completely free of clouds. You kneel at his bedside, feeling tears beginning to burn in the corners of your own eyes, you try to keep your tone as reassuring as possible and not let on how terrified you are. “Everything is going to be ok, alright?” 

His lips curl into a soft smile, his gaze softens, melting into yours like a stream of amber. You waited anxiously for a response, any response.

“Are you in pain?” His gentle expression remains unchanged as if he had just awoken from an afternoon nap, looking back at you. 

“Not anymore… If you’re here, I won’t feel a thing. I am fine, please do not worry.” His eye clamps shut as another searing pain courses through his body, making his breathing stutter again with a curt strangled groan. Despite what he said, it was clear he was in agony.

“Kyojuro…” Your brow furrows with concern as your eyes rake over his battered form. You look deeply into his eye intently trying to imprint every detail into your mind, as if the light may drain from it at any moment.

You didn’t even hear Shinobu’s delicate footsteps on the wooden floors or notice her until you looked up to see her at his opposite bedside, you were taken aback by her sudden presence. You shouldn’t be surprised, she is a hashira after all. 

“I’m sorry. We cannot wait any longer for the sedative. The more time goes without it…” She spoke solemnly, as though she knew what she needed to do, but almost didn’t have the heart to do it, almost. 

You felt one of the three small girls try to pull you back by your arm, “Ma’am please! Shinobu-san needs to work, you need to leave this room!” The words don’t even faze you, unmoving from your spot at his bedside. Making it clear to the entire Butterfly Mansion your stubbornness was only matched by Kyojuro’s himself. 

“Please don’t take him from me, not now. Please don't let someone else abandon me.” 

The words echo in your mind, like a cacophony of a lifetime of anxiety thrust to the surface all at once.

“She can stay. I’ll allow it.” Shinobu spoke, not taking her focus from the vial as she filled it with a solution, flicking it firmly to disperse any air bubbles. 

You feel the small girl release your arm going back to stand with the other two. You kept looking at Kyojuro, scared to look away, as if it was the last time you would ever bask in the warmth of his gaze. 

“My flame, let me tell you a few things.”  His voice was steady but strained, each word laced with sincerity.

“You don’t need to say anything… just save your strength.” You felt as though you were pleading with him at this point. 

“You’ve done enough, just rest.” 

You want to say to him, but you could see the seriousness on his face. Every man deserves to do with their last moments what they wish, and if these were just that, you would not be the one to deny him that. 

“Please, I want you to tell Senjuro he ought to follow the path he knows to be true, whatever path that may be. Remind my father to take care of his body.”

You look at Shinobu, almost as if to ask if there should be more witnesses to what could be the last words of the Flame Hashira, but she continued working, not even glancing down at you as she began administering the vial.

“And I want you to know that I love you.”

The tears you held in your eyes finally began to escape, your vision was cloaked in obscurity, but what did it even matter? As if anything was truly clear right now.

“I love you too.” That was clear to you if nothing else. What were otherwise the three most beautiful words one could utter to another, felt like they were just another deep wound you both inflicted each other with. Had he even heard what you said? Knowing him, he would feel personally responsible for the notion that another person would be agonizing over his condition.

The onslaught of emotion finally manifests in a strangled sob, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your sleeve. Seeing his golden iris enveloped beneath his closed eyelid and breathing softened, it is obvious the vial Shinobu gave him had already taken effect. 

Pressing the back of two fingers to his forehead, the only thing that you can use to ground yourself is that same unyielding warmth he radiated.

—————————————

You aren’t sure how many hours you’d been in the room. Time didn’t feel like it was passing. Maybe a part of you thought that if you kept looking at him long enough, you could pretend maybe he was finally getting the rest he deserved and not in a catatonic, forced respite from the wound that should have taken his life.

“You should go home. I’ll keep an eye on him personally.” Shinobu's voice was lighter than the chirp of a sparrow. “Trust me, the best recovery is sleep. Sometimes slayers sleep for months here, regaining their strength.” 

You cock your head over your shoulder to look at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. She raised a pointed finger, she was like a doll the way a perpetual contentment was painted to her face, it was a bit uncanny. 

“Not that I’m saying this will happen here. I induced the comatose state he is in, so everything is controlled, I made the compound so that he would naturally awaken when his body is in better condition.” 

This woman was truly a genius apothecarist, how did she even learn to make such a solution? 

“I see…” You didn’t want to stand yet; you craved just a moment more in his presence. You try to smile at her genuinely, but you knew it must have looked just as contrived as hers did. You didn’t have Kyojuro’s gift—the ability to smile authentically and joyfully, no matter how bleak things appeared.

“Before you go, can I give you his personal effects?” Your eyes moved from the floor to meet hers, nodding with the same polite smile still plastered on.

Shinobu took a package that couldn’t have contained more than a couple items from one of the youngest girls that helped around the Butterfly Mansion, transferring it into your grasp. 

Removing the thread and paper encasing the items, Shinobu stood unmoving before you, her eyes following your hands. Despite the smile she armed herself with, her gaze deepened, like this was something she understood all too well. 

Seeing the familiar kaen pattern, you stroked the back of your hand across the sturdy fabric of the Flame Hashira haori. Only to freeze as you feel something solid wrapped inside of it. Without hesitation, you reached within the white accented garment to pull out a rectangular box.

Could it be? Sliding the lid from the basin of the firm container to see delicate metal and crystal intertwined to make a plum blossom hairpin, the same kind that had saved your life not long ago. Your hands tremble uncontrollably as you remove it from its resting place.

“We found it in his pocket, even with the aftermath of the battle and the panic as he was rushed in, he implored us to be gentle in handling it…” 

After your first hairpin broke he must’ve planned to bring a new one for you that morning. Even with a gaping wound, he was concerning himself with being able to offer you an undamaged gift to replace the one he initially gave you when you arrived.

You clutched the package as if it was sacred, like maybe that if you didn’t, it would all slip through your grasp and cease to be like everything seemed to at the moment.

“Thank you for everything…” You finally broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper. You lower yourself to bow to Shinobu, before leaving, perhaps leaving a part of yourself behind as you do. 

 —————————————

There was a general malaise of silence at the house in contrast to the mid morning light, seemingly blanketing the grounds as if it was just another day. Something felt wrong about returning here alone from the Butterfly Estate. You scoured for the younger Rengoku, no doubt wanting– needing an update on the state of his older brother. 

You finally found him sitting alone in a room holding a sheathed sword in his lap. His head lowered as if in surrender, he was trembling as if terrified of what laid beneath the sheath.

You didn’t even know Senjuro owned a blade, it seemed ornamental at best. It looked as though it had never used a day since it was forged. 

Upon seeing you, his hazed and shaky expression was replaced with a mix of worry. Before he could ask you the burning question that had no doubt been haunting him, you notice a patch of tender skin on his cheek, an abrasion that looked as though it would bruise. 

“What happened to your face?” You lean lower yourself next to him to inspect, running your thumb over the skin, flushed red and running warm from the inflammation.

He turned his face to conceal the sore cheek from your view, putting his own hand over it. “One of the other swordsmen that joined brother on the mission came by the house…” His gaze faltered, shifting to looking at the ground. “He wanted to apologize… he was ashamed,  for not being able to do more in that battle.” 

“Father began insulting my brother, then suddenly was enraged by the slayer. Things began escalating. I tried to protect the slayer, and Father hit me…” 

You couldn’t believe the words you heard. You were sickened to your core. Beyond the scope of a Hashira, the scope of a patriarch, how could a father act this way? 

Words are one thing, as merciless as they were, especially to a man fighting for his life, but to strike someone so much smaller and weaker was despicable. Both were so egregious, it was impossible to even say which was worse. 

Taking a moment, you calmed yourself down, grounding your thoughts before responding. “Are you ok?” 

Senjuro kept his face angled down and the evidence of the violence that had occurred in your own home while you were out. 

“I’m fine… this is nothing.” He dragged his sleeve across his eyes with a soft sniffle, you could see how hard he worked to hide his emotions coming to the surface, there was something more important to him. “My brother… is he…?”

“He’s… sleeping, that’s all. They’re doing everything they can… ” You feel a lump forming in your throat at the words. You didn’t want to acknowledge what you were both thinking just as much as Senjuro didn’t want to. 

“I-I see.” His gaze stayed low to the ground, even as his fists balled at his sides with resolve. “Maybe… it will work now. It has to.”

Senjuro shakily removed the blade from its cover, sticking it straight in the air, looking up at it with anticipation. The sword quivered in the trembling hands of the boy. He looked up at it as if it was a beacon with the ability to connect him to a higher power. He stared up, waiting for something, anything to happen. Releasing a resigned exhale, his head dropped as the tears he had desperately held back began to flow freely. 

“I really don’t have any talent at all.” He looked up at you, dejection etched into every one of his features, “I prayed this day would never come, I knew I wouldn’t ever be able to carry on the Flame Hashira. This time, more than ever, my nichirin sword needed to change color. But even now, it refuses to. All because I simply don’t have what it takes.”

He set the sword down, his palms face up on his knees, silently sitting on the tatami floors. You wrap your arms around him, feeling him starting to shudder against you punctuating each sharp sob. 

“Do you want to know what your brother told me to tell you before he fell asleep?” You lower your voice to a murmur. 

“Wh-What did he say?” he stuttered, his lips pursed and voice trembling, but there remained a glint of hope evident as he stared at you, waiting intently to hear. 

You spoke steadily, trying to fully encapsulate the sincerity of Kyojuro’s words, hoping if he could hear his brother’s voice through you, maybe it would comfort him in ways you never could. “‘Walk the path you know to be true, whatever path that may be.’” 

He looked up at you, his glassy eyes widened, you could see him absorbing every syllable as if it was from a holy text leading him into enlightenment when the shoji door flew open to both of your shock.

“Senjuro! What did I tell you about the blubbering? I can hear your pathetic crying from across the house! As if Kyojuro hadn’t done enough, you had to show that Sun Breather how weak you are too! As if our family couldn’t be any more humiliated!”

Senjuro’s face drained of color, his pupils trembling at the intimidating figure in the doorway. 

“You’re the eldest son of this family now, so learn something from your fool of a brother!” He gritted his teeth, now speaking to no one in particular. “Trying to supplement his own inferiority, trying to make up for our insignificant bloodline, I have no doubt he used that cursed form to try to salvage a battle he was doomed to lose from the start. He should’ve never even picked up a sword to begin with!”

Cursed form? Sun Breather? Did he mean the boy with the earrings that Senjuro spoke of? You had learned to ignore most of what Shinjuro said; these ravings were likely just another temper tantrum fueled by the stuporous overindulgence he found at the bottom of several bottles. 

The discomfort hung like a chill in the air, filling the space between the fragmented inanities of the harsh words echoing through the room. Shinjuro finally lumbered away, the jug still tied around his wrist. You sat in the silence left in his wake, almost envisioning Kyojuro in that hospital bed, each breath he took and each pound within his chest a cry of hope.

You close your eyes for a moment before speaking in a hushed voice to Senjuro, “Your brother believes in you, always has. He’s fighting so he can be sure to come home and remind you of that himself.”

—————————————

“This hurts like hell!” The Sound Hashira grumbled to no one in particular. Kyojuro could only watch as his fellow Hashira limped from the doorway into the hospital bed the Butterfly Mansion staff had apathetically pointed to. 

The young nurses reassuring him that the Insect Hashira would be there “when she gets the chance” to treat his injuries. The adrenaline from battle must’ve finally dissipated by the time he reached the Butterfly Mansion.

After settling in with a few labored breaths, the man finally turned to his side, noticing Kyojuro in the bed beside him.“Rengoku? How long have you been up? Why are you still here?” 

“A few hours. Kocho has been keeping a close eye before she discharges me, but I should be good to go by now. Nevermind that though, what happened to you?” He had never seen the Sound Pillar as battered and bloody as he appeared before him now. 

“Remember how I was organizing some infiltration into the Entertainment District? Looking for an upper rank?” Kyojuro nodded intently, he was well aware of the operation in the Sound Pillar’s sector before he even boarded the train. 

“Well, we found it. The district is leveled, but we defeated the threat. And look, the two of us are matching now, and I even got one up on you.” The man gestured to his own covered eye before waving his left arm, permanently disfigured.

Even in this state, Uzui always had something to say to lighten the mood. Kyojuro always respected that trait in him, it was one of the primary reasons they got along as well as they did.

“You didn’t…” Kyojuro searched for the right word to describe the Sound Pillar's hobbled gait as he made his way from the entrance to the cot where he was now confined, as respectfully as possible. “Ambulate…  yourself all the way from Yoshiwara I hope?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” The Sound Hashira shook his head with pride. “My wives were there for me, of course. But Kocho said they couldn’t help me inside. Something about a very strict rule with spouses not being allowed to enter the Butterfly Mansion for any reason.” 

Uzui spoke with restlessness, trying to get comfortable in the hospital bed clearly not befitting his frame before trying to read the face of the Flame Pillar beside him. “Did she tell you about that too?” 

Kyojuro’s eyebrows knit together. “I was not aware of such a policy…” He said slowly, as if he was trying to figure out what his fellow pillar was referring to with each word. He affixed his gaze upon his comrade’s arm, bandaged shoddily in the heat of battle, severed at the wrist.

“As a dual wielder…” His lips pursed as he analyzed the sight before him. “You may have to adapt your swordsmanship.”

Kyojuro chuckled before resting his hand lightly on the covered wound punctured into his abdomen, “I was quite concerned for myself, but fortunately recovery is an option for me as well. It’s all of no matter, we will just have to train harder and get back to where we were!” 

Uzui studied the face of the Flame Hashira looking for any shred of sarcasm. “A-are you serious?” His eyes widened with shock, glancing down at the tightly wrapped bandages over Kyojuro’s chest.

“Of course I am, what are you trying to say?” Kyojuro looked at the Sound Pillar inquisitively.

The Sound Hashira exhaled sharply, lowering his eyes resolutely with a soft smile, “I’m stepping down. I’m done fighting.” Upon processing the rest of what Kyojuro confidently announced to him his head jerked to face him in disbelief. “You aren’t actually considering going back are you?”

“But as pillars-” Kyojuro was cut off mid sentence, his curiosity now only building with what his friend was telling him.

“I like to think I’m Lord Uzui Tengen before I’m the Sound Pillar.” He declared matter of factly, before his tone devolved back into its characteristic quippiness. “You’ve always blurred that line, but most bastards lucky enough to take a hole in the chest and live would see themselves the same.” 

Kyojuro tried to think back to the exact moment of impact, the demonic fist piercing his flesh, in the face of what could only be described as certain death had he drawn a distinction between the two?

Kyojuro’s ponderance was interrupted by the petite form of the Insect Pillar shadowed by the younger girl with blue eyes and pigtails coming in the doorway seemingly with no urgency at all. “Thank gods!” Uzui exclaimed, the exasperation ripe in his voice. “I thought you all forgot about me!”

Kocho spoke her voice sweet and light as ever complimented by the poignant, contented countenance she always had. “Oh dear! Of course not!” She gestured to the three youngest Butterfly Mansion girls to bring her a tray with some instruments and antiseptics. 

Tears formed in the corner of their eyes as they approached the Sound Hashira’s bedside to hand it off to their master, clinging to each other and hurrying away once they did as they were instructed. 

“Hey Kocho, do you have any painkillers or anything before you stitch me up?” Uzui spoke with a tinge of desperation, one he was clearly trying to suppress in the presence of others.

“Unfortunately, I don't recall we have anything strong enough for you here.” The Insect Pillar spoke with a curt sharpness.

The blue-eyed nurse with pigtails was much easier to read than her master. Even with the grimace she typically bore while concentrating on work, there was a particular scorn in her eyes that seemed to run deep. She stared daggers at the Sound Pillar, it was truly a distaste only unpleasant familiarity can foster. 

The Insect Pillar worked, doing little to prepare her patient for her next action, hastily attending to the injuries of her fellow Hashira. Her doll-like smile unchanging as heavy handedly she doused his deep lacerations with antiseptic before stitching them shut with fresh bandages.

Upon finishing, she walked away without another word or so much as a check in to ask how the Sound Pillar was feeling now, even though she hadn’t seemed to be rushing to another bedside as she retreated without a second glance

Uzui released the grit of his teeth following his treatment, sincerity filling his tone. “About your injury, sorry I didn’t come see you. I had my crow watch closely; it told me you were stable in Kocho’s care, although maybe that should’ve been something that worried me more than it did.” He squirmed in place momentarily, no doubt feeling some residual discomfort in the absence of anything to ease his pain before being treated.

Kyojuro shook his head “No, the staff here is the picture of gentleness and care for its patients, Kocho and all her sisters treated me with the utmost kindness and consideration.” 

Uzui looked out the doorway to see the three youngest Butterfly Sisters looking at him with aversion, still on the verge of tears, while the blue-eyed pigtailed nurse’s contemptuous stare only intensified in her master’s absence. 

The Sound Hashira chuckled to himself blithely. “Huh. You don’t say.” 

His gaze moved from the main room beyond the doorway back to Kyojuro in the hospital bed beside him. “I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the district once I stopped getting updates from my girls.” A playful smirk crossed his face again as his solemn tone brightened, “I figured mere Upper Three wouldn’t be enough to take you out. I trust you understand.” 

Kyojuro looked at him knowingly with a reassuring smile, “Of course. No need to explain any further.”

“You know, the kids that were on the train with you volunteered to come to the district with me. The Kamado boy in particular gushed on and on, don’t be surprised if you start getting fan mail from him.” 

A warm smile crept across Kyojuro’s features at the mention. Hearing they had all recovered quickly and been assigned another mission while he had been out, made every drop of blood shed feel all the more worth it. He really had been able to protect them as he was expected to after the train incident, even if he in  the end failed to finish off the upper rank. 

“Ah yes, young Kamado. Truly good natured. I’m sure he would speak fondly of anyone who fought by his side.” He folded his arms across his chest assuredly as he always seemed to when he felt idle. 

The Sound Pillar moved his one good arm casually behind his head. “I don’t think just ‘anyone’ could have done what you did in the first place.” 

Uzui sighed. “You’ve done good, Mister Flame Pillar. I think you deserve to just be Rengoku now.” Kyojuro tried to hide the thoughtful pensivity welling behind his eyes before spreading across his face. Kyojuro knew he had always been able to read like a book, trying as he might to hide how he felt.

“Ugh. No need to do the Tomioka face.” The Sound Hashira said less than affectionately, He feigned annoyance, but his genuine concern was evident. “It’s up to you of course, but I think you should take a cue from me and go home to your wife now. Give my best to your mini-me.”

—————————————

By the time Kocho had let him leave the Butterfly Mansion, she wrapped his bandages extra taught, surely expecting he would have removed them the minute he was out of her sight. She was not wrong, he had definitely contemplated tearing them off before he returned to his home. 

But he knew he ought to leave them for now. Show the bare wound? Too disturbing. An eyepatch felt too drastic, permanent. Even though he was told to be cautiously optimistic at best on recovering his sight in that eye, bandages gave the hopeful impression to both his family and himself that regaining his vision was not out of the realm of possibility just yet. 

And there was the matter of crutches. He’d declined the nurses’ offer without a second thought. He wasn’t above using them, of course—he had used crutches before when it was necessary. 

But this time felt different. This time, he had come closer to death than he ever had before, closer than he had ever imagined. The weight of that knowledge was still fresh, he liked to think that was to blame for the piercing sensation beneath his ribs rather than the obvious.

Turning the corner into his ancestral home, he was not surprised to see his brother doing his daily chores per usual. Senjuro swept the entryway with a thousand yard stare. His gaze was unfocused, the bristles haphazardly brushing over the floor as if he wasn’t truly seeing it beneath him. He seemed to move mechanically as if the incessant noise in his head left him catatonic. 

As much as he wished Senjuro would let others help him, he knew productivity usually brought him peace of mind. Likely now more than ever thanks to his extended stay at the Butterfly Mansion riddling them all with uncertainty. 

Upon seeing him, Senjuro dropped his broom, his hazed expression replaced with overjoy. He ran over stopping himself in his tracks before jumping into his still recovering older brother’s arms.

Senjuro’s smile faltered as he took a small, hesitant step back, his gaze flickering down to Kyojuro’s chest, then back up to his face. He looked scared to get any closer, as if Kyojuro was made of glass and the slightest touch would make him shatter before his eyes. Kyojuro slowly opened his arms, donning his iconic smile brimming with warmth and familiarity. A simple reassurance.

That was all needed for Senjuro’s momentary unease to be erased. Without a second thought, Senjuro closed the distance, throwing his arms around his elder brother in a tight embrace. 

He let out a slight hmph slightly faltering backward for a moment. The pressure against his abdomen was not exactly comfortable, but that did not stop him from tightening his own arms around his little brother. 

“Thank gods Kanroji-san brought some sweet potato and sakura mochi earlier! I would’ve made more if we had gotten a crow you were discharged!”

Kyojuro did not have the heart to tell Senjuro he had been living off extra salted miso soups and herbal tea since awakening, and was told to continue doing so until breathing was more comfortable.

Kocho had mentioned that at least three times as he left the manor. She must’ve correctly suspected yet again his own appetite was a potential hazard to his recovery. Even castella cake was too solid and dense for him to consume in his condition. 

“I will have to thank my former tsuguko for her thoughtfulness when I see her next!” He tried to remain as lighthearted as possible as he declared what no one ever believed they would live to hear him say.  “As delicious as that sounds, I am not hungry at the moment!” 

“Not hungry?” Senjuro repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You?” His eyes raked over his elder brother searching for the cause of such an anomaly. 

Just as Senjuro inspected the state of him, Kyojuro noticed the dark circles beneath his brother’s eyes, and the complexion of his face paler than he remembered. 

“I am simply so full of energy and vitality I have no need for anything to eat! Why don’t you off from your chores for the rest of the day, Senjuro!”

“A-are you sure?” Senjuro swiftly took his broom back into his hands as if to prove he had no reason to not continue as he was. 

Kyojuro put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, a gesture that always seemed to make Senjuro feel more at ease. “Certainly, you look as though you could use rest. I will take over for you”

Not being deterred in the slightest Senjuro replied, “No I can do it I promise!” Senjuro swiftly took his broom back into his hands as if to prove he had no reason to not continue as he was before Kyojuro came.

 “She’s doing the laundry for me already outside. So at least let me do the rest of the chores!” The younger Rengoku boy seemed almost frantic as he tried to prove that he was still more than capable of carrying out his perceived responsibilities.

 Kyojuro was momentarily taken aback looking into the fuzzy silhouette of a reflection of himself, one that went deeper than their appearance. 

He had spent the better part of his life encouraging and reassuring his brother, for this exact reason. He had foolishly believed that maybe that would be enough for Senjuro to ignore the example that had been before him since their mother had died nearly a decade ago. 

There were many things he was capable of protecting him from, however there remained some things he could only try to ward off. He was more than happy to act as a human shield to all the unpleasantness of the world he had dealt with himself. 

That was not to say his brother was delicate. Senjuro’s meek and sensitive exterior was not beguiling of his fiercely loyal and indomitable spirit. His patience was seemingly boundless, while being the most empathetic person Kyojuro had ever met. Senjuro’s maturity was indeed far beyond his years.

In spite of all of this, Kyojuro wanted him to have had a normal and carefree childhood. Maybe if they were another family under different circumstances, in some kind of a perfect world, Senjuro would not be confined to doing household work all day. He would have a plethora of friends to enjoy the blissful innocence of juvenility, with two loving parents at home, and no perceived expectations he was forced to inherit or self-condemnate over. 

Most of all he would not feel the need to fight for the validation of others, or establish his worth in his actions. While he could not protect him from loss or neglect, surely he could do that much even now.

There was no use grieving over what could have been, the reality was Senjuro had begun to take after his own tendencies. Something he could never forgive himself for being the cause of if it went too far. His own resolve was still strong, but he could at least try to set an example of self preservation when Senjuro was watching. 

He took the broom from Senjuro’s hands once again, leaning it against the wall beside them.”Why don’t we both take some time off today!” He proclaimed as confidently as possible. Senjuro’s shoulders, which had been taut with unease, dropped and with them Kyojuro breathed his own sigh of relief.

He no longer protested his elder brother’s suggestion to get some rest. Kyojuro walked his little brother to his room. As he followed, the younger boy barely lifted his head, his gaze still unfocused, lost in the exhaustion that clung to him. 

Tucking him into his futon, Kyojuro adjusted the pillow beneath his brother’s head, fluffing it gently, even though he knew Senjuro wouldn’t mind either way. He moved deliberately, his smile unchanged despite his mind spinning. He couldn’t help but hope that his little brother wouldn’t notice the subtle shift in Kyojuro’s actions today—the slight urgency in his insistence. 

Perhaps fatigue dulled Senjuro’s emotional intelligence enough that he failed to detect the thinly veiled half-heartedness behind him emphasizing they deserve to both call it for the day. He had been home for moments, and on bedrest before that while Senjuro had been beside himself with worry, maintaining their home. Kyojuro felt dread pool in his stomach, the thought nearly sickened him.

Once making sure his little brother was comfortable in his futon, he rose from his crouched position to his feet again, clamping his eyes shut with a sharp exhale at the shooting pain through his abdomen at the sudden movement. 

Luckily, Senjuro had succumbed to exhaustion the moment his head touched the pillow, sparing him any more anxiety over his big brother’s condition. 

He was embarrassed at how rapidly even the simplest tasks; walking, standing, really had exhausted him. Kocho had not necessarily given him advice on activity now that he was no longer in critical condition, she just reiterated not putting “undue strain” on the body. As vague as that was, he figured he must be experiencing some version of that as his breath became more labored as he walked through the corridors of his own home. 

Almost as if moving against his will, he lowered himself into his futon. He hoped maybe he could get some sleep as soundly as Senjuro, his head barely made contact with the pillow before he drifted off  even with rays of early evening daybreak still illuminating the sky. 

He was happy he had managed to soothe the terrifying thoughts eating his little brother from the inside while he was recovering at the Butterfly Mansion. 

Hopefully, Senjuro genuinely believed things were right in the world again, and that he had no need to prove himself to those around him any further. If he did genuinely believe that, Kyojuro envied it. 

—————————————

The laundry had kept you busy from the late afternoon until the sun hung low in the sky, and you were grateful for the long days of summer, which offered a grace period of a few more hours of safety outside.

You must have looked strange in your tsumugi woven silk kimono, churning laundry by the creek. You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow, before brushing your hands over your hair to ensure the hairpin was still in place. You refocused on the task at hand, gripping the sentakubō with both hands once again. 

The water stirring and forming small whirlpools as you plunge the wooden paddle into the melange of soaking garments with a slosh. You raise the paddle up before submerging it again, fabric swirling in the sekken infused water. 

These were the ancient methods Senjuro had told you had been used for centuries in the family. 

“Drinkable well water is too precious to be used on clothes, there is flowing mountain water just beyond the gates by a small grove of wisteria trees. That’s where we have done laundry for as far back as I know of.” 

The fatigue evident in his every motion momentarily ceased for him to give you particular instructions before you handle the household laundry on your own for the first time. 

In Tokyo, you heard some families had found ways to pump water into their homes. No access to wells or streams necessary. You were unsure whether to be skeptical or amazed at the Western innovations being integrated at breakneck speed into the capital, but the Rengoku family seemed utterly disinterested and unimpressed by anything that brought them away from the techniques of the past. 

Regardless of the flow of time, the Rengoku family had yet to betray the techniques of their ancestors that had never failed them before.

Perhaps they felt both indebted and venerated by the practices that had upheld their name through generations of Flame Pillars and centuries of war against man-eating evil. Each Hashira over the ages living long enough to pass on every aspect, no matter how trivial, of traditional lifestyle to their children and then their children’s children. 

Proof of demons and time alike being unable to erode them into nothing more than history, a bloodline persisting even today, against all odds. 

Your nose prickled at the herbal scent of the laundry solution you had handled for the past few hours soaking, scrubbing the items against the ridges of a washboard before draping each clean textile over a clothesline to dry in the tepid air. 

It was dull, tedious, and somewhat exhausting work, but anything to take your mind and a piece of your heart from the Butterfly Mansion was a welcome distraction. 

As you carried out mundane household chores as of late, you had made it more engaging by picturing Kyojuro watching you with pride, a glint of familiar affection in his eye. 

It only pushed you harder to put your all into everything you did, regardless of how unremarkable it may seem to others. That was what he would no doubt do in your shoes.

—————————————

You had expected Senjuro to be milling about getting things done for the same reason when you arrived back at the estate.The broom leaned against the wall of the engawa was telling enough to you he must’ve finished his daily tasks up and retired into the house for the time being. It might have been slightly unusual, but not anything provoking much cause for concern otherwise.

You looked forward to idleness for the remainder of the evening. Slipping into fresh clothes, you made your way to your room, eager to lie down and rest. 

As you walk the corridor, a blur of fiery colors ignites in your peripheral vision beyond the sliding door of a room that had sat empty as of late. Was that? You freeze in disbelief. 

“Kyojuro?” The name slips from your lips before you can stop it, even though you know the chances of him hearing you from this distance without even seeing your lips were low, but it doesn’t stop your heart from leaping in your chest nevertheless.

Eventually he must sense your presence, his unwrapped eye meeting yours, and in that instant, it feels like everything else fades away. He shifts from his reclined position to sit upright. Even just sitting up in his futon, you notice the subtle tension in his body, the familiar way his arms instinctively cross in front of him—, a pose you know he adopts when idle, as idle as he was capable of being anyway.

You had seen him like this before, when he was always on guard, always ready for battle. The weight of responsibility had never left him, even when he wasn’t fighting. But now, in this quiet moment, it felt almost surreal. You felt a wave of relief flood over you—he was here. He was home.

You didn’t know whether to run over to him, break down into tears, fall to your knees thanking every god and spirit that was looking out for him, or all three at the same time. He watches you with that familiar intensity in his eyes, but there's something softer now, an unspoken heaviness in his gaze

“You were resting… I’m sorry for the disruption.” You did something you hadn’t done since you arrived at the house, lowering your head into a bow. It simply felt appropriate, the least you could do was show your respect, as unnatural as it felt. Kyojuro blinked, taken aback by your gesture, his brows clenching together in confusion as he watched you. 

There was a moment where his eyes seemed to search yours, as if uncertain how to respond, had a distance that great grown between you? You raised from your bow before he could tell you it was ‘not necessary for the likes of him,’ your grasp taking hold of the edge of the shoji door to drag it shut. 

“I’ll let you enjoy some peace and quiet.” Your words felt inauthentic as you spoke, it wasn’t what you wanted, but it felt like what you deserved. You wished you knew what to say to him, but how could you? You could do nothing but watch helplessly while he writhed in pain waiting for you at the Butterfly Mansion. 

Standing by watching the sparks fade his eyes, feeling the room grow colder and colder still. Was that really all you could do? 

Every night since then, you had hoped for a miracle, that you would wake up and he would be back. Now here he was and all you could do was grapple with the futility of your every effort against the inevitable, one that would have come to pass with or without your consent. Like almost all else in his life, he overcame this on his own.

He tilted his head to the side trying to catch your downturned gaze with a soft smile, “You know” He paused until your glassy eyes met his. “I’ve had enough ‘peace and quiet’ for this lifetime.” 

He hesitated for a heartbeat, there was an almost imperceptible urgency in his tone, as though the simple request held more than he could express. “I would enjoy your companionship…” His eye locked onto yours, and you could hear him telling you what he truly felt, but couldn’t bring himself to say, “Please don’t leave me alone…”

Your fists closed around your sleeves as you looked on from the doorway. 

“Could I lay beside you?” You meant to ask gracefully, but a tremble caught itself at  the end of your words. In spite of you both being wedded, something ignited embarrassment within you at your own request. You weren’t quite sure what his experience with such things were, but you certainly had none to speak of. 

You had been confident everything would be ok, but a part of you filled with dread at every crow that flew overhead. Terrified, one of them was Shinobu-san informing you regrettably that they had failed, and he was gone. You just wanted to be close to him, close enough to hold onto and hope he wouldn’t come so close to slipping away from you again. 

“Absolutely!” His boyish excitement quickly commanding sincerity, his voice lowering to just above a breathy whisper “I mean… you do not need to ask. I am yours after all.”

If anything was capable of soothing the apprehension you felt, it was hearing him deliver an enthusiastic exclamation. You studied him, your eyes drifted down again to his arms crossed on top of his chest. Whether be a barrage of responsibility or self doubt, he always carried a tension palpable in every fiber. 

In a gentler world that asked for less of someone like him, maybe he wouldn’t need to. But even if he was not of that world, you could create a piece of it for him to dwell in. A place both his weary body and mind could be at ease.

You lowered yourself into the futon, trying to not focus on your heart, beginning to quicken, as the sound of his breath became audible each inhale and following exhale affirming to you he was alive, and he was yours.

“Am I making you nervous?” You asked genuinely, seeing his shoulders tighten and arms stitch together more tautly and a rouge flush across his cheeks even in the low light. 

He conveniently subverted your inquiry, rebounding it back to you.“You are not nervous, are you, my flame?” His tone seemed to waver in its usual certainty. 

“Not with you…” Even the intoxicating stillness, you cannot help but notice his strained comportment.  “You’re so stiff…”

He spoke no doubt a bit louder than even he anticipated, “Not stiff!” His sudden surge in volume took you back, the abruptness of his response leaving you momentarily unsettled. But as his words settled into the space between you, you quickly found yourself adjusting again into comfort.

“Just a habit, I assure you.” His voice was softer this time, a hint of something more raw slipping through his usual certainty. “I have been trained to be vigilant, at all times. I suppose it’s just how I’ve learned to exist.” 

“Hm. I see…” Your brow furrowed, pursing your lips together almost imperceivably. You extend your arms to place one hand on each of his shoulders, meeting his gaze you search the embers of his unbandaged iris for any sign of discomfort before cupping your hands. 

You, for only a moment, feel the heat of his gaze rake over, consuming each inch of your form. It was enough to make your skin prickle under its blistering intensity. Being used as its fuel, a slow burn ignited in your chest, radiating outward in waves, trailing sparks down to your fingertips and toes. You pry your eyes from your own hands back to his blistering stare to catch his lashes flutter briefly, clenching his eyes shut as if mentally reprimanding himself. 

Your palms take in the dense sinews forming sharp lines and curved ridges beneath your palms, before you push them down from their contraction. His arms finally dropping from their cross to his sides. You try to cut through the tension imparting a squeeze in a circular motion to the corded muscle between your thumb and fingers. 

As the pressure deepened, a soft, involuntary shudder rippled through him, a sudden tremor that surged from his shoulders down to his spine. It caused him to partially heave forward, his posture faltering as his head tilted to the side. A strangled sound—somewhere between a gasp and a whimper—escaped his lips.

You pull back your hands instinctively. “I-I didn’t mean…”

He shifted slightly, avoiding your gaze for a brief moment,  the blush deepening down to his neck. “I... I think I made a rather odd sound just now... My sincerest apologies” He spoke just above a murmur, his tone uncharacteristically timid, and pupils blown wide. “I must have broken my Total Concentration Breathing. I-I just… did not expect that to feel so good.”  

After a moment, his voice came again, a little more vulnerable than usual, almost tentative. “May I hold you?”  For a man so often brimming with confidence and conviction, this sudden bashfulness was endearing, almost disarming.

You echoed the words that had made your heart flutter since you heard them, “I am yours after all.” As the moments stretched on, the world outside began to blur, your breaths falling in sync with his. His hand trailed absentmindedly through your hair, his touch lulling you closer to sleep. Just before the haze of slumber overtook you, you felt him press the lightest kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as though committing the moment to memory.

And so, wrapped in his embrace, safe within the steady glow of his presence, you drifted off. For even in sleep, you knew you were wholly his, and he, yours.

—————————————

Kyojuro found himself restless with the first breaks of light, the flecks of dawn slowly spreading from the base of the horizon as the sky remained inked with the deep indigo of night. 

He sat up, given the opaque darkness of the sky it was hard to believe that golden rays of light would cut through the boundless pitch black expanse above him.

Since he had awoken, he had begun to be enchanted by things he had never paid much mind to before. The way the dawn happened to bleed into night, if there was nothing else you could rely on in this world, there was solace to be found in the consistency of daybreak. 

No matter how empty the void of night seemed, the dawn would overcome it anyway, illuminating the heavens without fail. Admirable. It was truly admirable.

Turning his gaze toward you, his heart softened even further. You lay curled beside him, your expression serene in the half-light, your hair tousled from sleep. Kyojuro couldn’t help but smile—bright and warm, though he kept it quiet, not wanting to disturb you. He leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to the crest of your hairline, lingering for a moment as if to savor the touch.

"Rest well," he whispered, his voice low and affectionate. Carefully, he slipped from the futon, each movement deliberate and gentle so as not to disturb the stillness that wrapped around you like a cocoon.

While cooking was outside his expertise, he was more than capable of boiling water in a hagama with tea leaves. 

As he entered the main room to prepare it, he noticed his father already seated with his gaze fixed on the sky. Kyojuro’s  instincts made him want to turn around and recede right then and there, before stopping himself.

“You are up early, Father.” Kyojuro shifted his head to the side almost as if to hide his face. He could hardly bring himself to face the former Flame Hashira. In his father's eyes, the cold sweat on his brow and the ghostly pallor of his skin would no doubt serve as a (half) living testament to the very words he had insisted upon to Kyojuro for years.

His hand quivered as he sprinkled a spoonful of the tea leaves into water before beginning to boil them together on the wood stove. 

Shinjuro hardly acknowledged the presence of another behind him more than a quick glance over the shoulder. His expression was as equally austere and annoyed as usual.

Similar to how Shinjuro kept his eyes firmly locked onto the slow ascent of the sun, Kyojuro relegated his own gaze to the kettle on the stove, barely looking away as the silence was intermittently broken by the sound of chimes swaying in the breeze.

When the water adopted the greenish hue from the tea leaves, he removed the hagama from the heat.

“Uh... tea, Father?” Kyojuro said as he set out two cups just in case. It was unusual enough his father was awake at dawn, and out of his room. He rarely saw Shinjuro eat or drink much, usually sleeping or drinking the day away, it would be even more unusual for him to break that pattern. But, he felt obliged to ask him anyway.

Shinjuro spoke, his voice gruff as it had been as long as Kyojuro could remember. “Sure.” He paused for a long time before adding, “Thank you…” 

Kyojuro looked up with shock, but only to look at the back of Shinjuro’s head once again. He poured the liquid into the cups, curls of steam wafting from each one with an earthy aroma. 

With one in each hand he brought it over to where his father sat at the edge of the room, the sky fading from nox to a peach tone as the apex of the sun became visible over the horizon line. 

He lowered his head as he placed the cup on the ground, Shinjuro’s scarred hand wrapping around it where it sat. Kyojuro slowly backed away from where he resided to leave him be.

“You can sit, son.” Shinjuro said, finally turning over his shoulder to meet Kyojuro’s gaze. Kyojuro moved closer again trepidatiously before lowering himself to the ground with a sharp exhale, the pressure on his wound making his face twist momentarily as he did so.

Kyojuro could not help but notice the thick, pungent smell of sake—a scent that had been a constant companion to his father for as long as he could remember—was completely absent this morning.

“In nearly 20 years as a pillar, I used that damned form three times.” Shinjuro spoke, his eyes not leaving the sky as he took a sip of the tea in his hand. “You’ve used it twice that I know of, but it’s been more times than that, right?”

Kyojuro did not even want to reply to his father’s probing, it would not matter anyway, they both knew the answer to the question.

The former pillar’s jaw clenched in grim recognition of Kyojuro's telling silence. However, the response was not angered, but seemed shackled with the heaviness of frustration.

Kyojuro took a long drink of the cup of tea in his hand, it was easier than thinking of the right thing to say.

Shinjuro continued, his voice steady but carrying a hint of weariness. “I practically memorized each word of the chronicles. The Breath of Flames like every other breath will always be derivative. Yet our swordsmen are the only ones who refuse to believe that. Neither the chosen ones nor those blissfully content with their own mediocrity use anything as foolish or self destructive as that damn 9th form.” 

Kyojuro knows the destruction he spoke of all too well. The gelatinous cartilage protecting the shoulders, knees, elbows, hip flexors, ankles, spine, it was all fickle. 

Once the body has worn it down, usually through decades upon decades of usage the grating discomfort of bone on bone friction rarely goes away, in many cases it can leave one chair bound from the intensity of every joint aching.

While all such an affliction can happen naturally with the flow of time, but the amount of power emitted from the 9th form was anything but natural.

The records of the ways of Flame Breathing made this clear to the user. Even by the standard of breath forms, which already amplify the body beyond its innate threshold, the concentration of power in the 9th form of Flame Breathing was exceptionally great.

The amount of strain on the body by the 9th form was more than some could handle. Some Flame Pillars of the past did not have the composition to use it more than once or twice at absolute most. The immense pressure on the body had a way of hastening degeneration. The form was strictly a last resort when facing a foe that needed to be defeated at all costs. 

The brighter and hotter a flame burns, the sooner it flickers out. Yet each time he was left with no other option but to use it, he did so without hesitation.

He had always fought to save lives with his body as little more than collateral in the grand scheme of his duty, so what did a few adverse side effects matter if it allowed him to prevail against a powerful demon that could go on to devour dozens?

Shinjuro muttered under his breath bitterly as if trying to suppress a visceral growl gathering in his lungs at the words alone. “The Breath of Flames, the Flame Hashira mantle, all of it, who gives a damn about a line of talentless fools breaking themselves just to end up average. It’s just a pitiful tale, nothing more. I’ve asked myself over and over why anyone would want to pass that on to the next generations.” 

He shook his head slowly with an exhale, his knuckles becoming lighter as he gripped his cup more tightly before releasing it again. “I knew I should’ve destroyed the infernal pages of the Flame Hashira Chronicles a long time ago.”

Kyojuro’s tone became calmer than even he knew it to be, almost as if unconsciously imitating the softness of how his own mother spoke to him all those years ago. “Whether it is pitiful or not, it memorializes their will. Their triumph, their struggle, none of it will go unnoticed, and they will be remembered fondly for their bravery and their role in our history.”

Shinjuro was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant still settled on the peach streaks as they became gold across the sky. “Did you ever read about my predecessor?” He grumbled with narrowed eyes.

Kyojuro’s brow furrowed into thought before replying. “Our grandfather, yes of course. I read about every Flame Hashira. It is a shame Senjuro and I never met him.”

“Trust me, you’re lucky you only ever read about him.” Shinjuro let out a forced chuckle before taking another sip. “Obsessed with the family legacy, he’d probably have carved ‘Flame Hashira’ into my chest the day I was born if he thought it would keep me from forgetting who I was meant to be. And just my luck—I happened to be the bastard’s only child. That meant all his expectations, all his delusions about immortality through legacy, fell squarely on my shoulders.” 

Kyojuro heard a pain in his father’s voice that he had only caught a handful of times before—a rare, almost fleeting vulnerability that Shinjuro rarely allowed anyone to see. His mind drifted back to faded, gilded memories. When his father’s smile had been constant, his pride unwavering. He could still recall the way his father’s eyes would light up as he passed down his sword skills to him and Senjuro, enthusiastic and patient.

Those memories were growing hazy with time, as though they were trapped in the mist of nostalgia, but the warmth they stirred within him was unmistakable. It was the kind of warmth that invigorated him—like the very ichorous blood of the Flame Hashira flowed through his veins, and he was destined for greatness.

“Perhaps…” Kyojuro murmured, his voice wistful, “Perhaps… He must have seen potential in you… " His eyes fell to the ground, his chest felt hollow as if the air was being drawn from it. "And that was the reason he pushed you so hard and did not ever give up on you...”

Shinjuro’s lips pressed together into a firm line. “Potential? No. He didn’t see me. Not as a person. I was a tool, a means to an end—a way to keep the Rengoku name alive, to make himself feel like he mattered.”

Shinjuro's voice held calm, but kept carrying the crushing weight of resignation.“Part of me wanted to show him I would be the last Flame Breathing user,” His eyes stayed distant, unblinking.

“Just let our name die out, fade into oblivion as a fragment of history. Just so my miserable old man’s last thought would be regret. That nothing he tried his damndest to maintain would last after one generation. I refused to be another cog in the perpetual machine.”

Kyojuro looked down at the swirls of green fluid in the cup as he held it in his lap. His voice curious as he looked over, as though trying to understand a piece of the past he had never been allowed to see. “What changed your mind?”

“Your mother…” Shinjuro’s lips twisted slightly, but not with anger—more like a quiet bitterness that he no longer had the energy to hide under anger or indifference. “But just like everything else, it was all futile, just a beautiful dream she was kind enough to let me believe in. Even for just a little while.”

Kyojuro’s eyes flickered, a quiet understanding passing between them at her mention.

Shinjuro let out a long sigh, setting his cup down with a soft clink, though his movements remained languid. “I don’t know if she fell victim to the suffering fate has ordained for us by becoming my bride. Maybe she stood a chance before then. But not us, if you’re born into it, you don’t have a choice, it's your cross to bear whether you want it or not. That’s the cruel joke. That’s the purgatory we’re bound to.”

The sun was higher now, and the colors in the sky deepened, casting a warm glow over everything.

Shinjuro’s voice broke the stillness again, his voice softer now than Kyojuro had known in so long. “I never wanted to be the kind of man to force a son to swing a sword until he vomited and his hands were torn open and bleeding. I should’ve never let either of you boys touch a blade. Just let the cycle end and be free. But you and Senjuro... you were always drawn to it. Always. I could see it in your eyes.” 

His gaze turned, albeit reluctantly, to Kyojuro, meeting his gaze in earnest. “We can’t help it, can we? It's in our blood I suppose.”

The sun was fully risen now, casting a golden glow over the room, spilling warmth across the tatami floor. Shinjuro, still staring out at the horizon, sighed deeply, a silent self condemnation. “I wasn’t capable of protecting Ruka, or the many junior swordsmen, or countless civilians, but I once hoped even a good for nothing father could protect his own children if nothing else.”

Kyojuro’s eyes lingered on his father, the warmth of the rising sun casting a gentle light on the hard lines of Shinjuro’s face. He didn’t know what he could possibly say. 

Kyojuro sat in the silence that followed his father's words, the weight of Shinjuro’s rare admission lingering in the air. He could feel the old, familiar tension between them, but it was softer now—more fragile, like the delicate balance of the morning light spilling across the floor. 

Shinjuro’s voice was both steady and solemn. "Kyojuro, you are a better man than I. You and your brother both. A strong man can learn from a weaker one how to become even stronger."

The words were unexpected, catching Kyojuro off guard. He glanced up at his father, his eyes searching the features of Shinjuro’s face for some sign that this wasn’t just another passing moment of wistful resignation. But there was no mistaking the sincerity in his tone. Kyojuro’s chest tightened, though he didn’t fully know why.

Shinjuro took a breath, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, a faraway look in his eyes. “Just remember, you have a whole life ahead of you. It’s yours to do with what you wish.”

There was something in Shinjuro’s words that stirred in Kyojuro—a faint flicker of hope, like a spark in the dark. He wanted to say something, to respond, but the weight of the moment was so heavy, so rare, that all he could do was nod.

Shinjuro shifted slightly, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, before leaving on heavy footsteps.

There was something in Shinjuro’s words that stirred in Kyojuro—a faint flicker of hope, like a spark in the dark. He wanted to say something, to respond, but the weight of the moment was so heavy, so rare, that all he could do was nod.

Shinjuro shifted slightly, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, as though the weight of his own body was a burden he carried with resignation.

He gave Kyojuro one last look, something softer than usual in his eyes, before he turned toward the door. "I’m going to go check on Senjuro. He’s been having nightmares lately."

Kyojuro’s gaze lingered on his father’s retreating back. The room felt quieter now, the silence settling between them like something solid. He wanted to speak—wanted to say something that could erase the years of distance between them, and his father’s regrets.

The warmth of the sun seemed to spill into his very bones, filling the hollow places with a kind of quiet understanding. It wasn't a resolution. It wasn’t a grand moment of reconciliation. But it was something. 

A rare crack in the wall that had always stood between them. And for the first time in a long while, Kyojuro thought maybe, just maybe, it was a step toward something else. Something better.

—————————————

He awoke to start the day as he had nearly every day for the past. Getting ready at dawn as he always did, cautious not to awaken you in the room beyond the thin panel walls. Donning his corps uniform kaen haori, against Kocho’s advice to receive help. 

Moving deliberately he raised his arms to twist the thick honey blonde layers of his hair, he felt a sharp pang in his abdomen. He froze in place, his eyes widened before clenching shut. The pain forcing him to grip the edge of the nearest furniture for support. 

His hand moved from his chest back to his sides as he opened his eyes slowly, a hint of embarrassment creeping over him. It was as if he feared that when his eyelids lifted, he would find disappointed faces gazing back at him.

He continued the routine that made him worthy of the rank of Hashira. His resolve only strengthened, it would not matter so long as he could prove to himself, he was still strong, the capable protector of others.

The sun’s early light casting across his face, he moved with purpose across the same grounds that he and generations of Flame Pillars before him honed their skills in the heart of the ancestral estate. The ground beneath him was packed earth, worn smooth from endless footfalls. 

Unsheathing his katana, he took a deep breath, grip tightening on the handle of his garnet nichirin sword. But the blade that was once a weightless extension of himself felt heavier, more cumbersome. 

Performing the stances he had forged into his very bones with the years. His fluidity between each form was lacking. Even in total concentration he found himself sputtering if his chest expanded too much on the inhale. Beads of sweat rolled down his temple in the Summer sun, the brine making the unhealed gash across his eye socket sting lightly. 

He was not blessed with the near supernatural acuteness of sense others possessed. Some of his comrades had such heightened perception, blindness itself was not even a burden. But he was quite the opposite, since the mission he lost most of his hearing, he had learned to instead rely on his vision to be fully aware of his surroundings at all times. 

In the line of duty, he even had trained himself to reduce the frequency of blinking so as to not let his own inability to perceive his surroundings with his other senses create an opening for an enemy to strike. 

Each swing and subsequent sharp ache in his abdomen was a reminder that not long ago, a demon had punched straight through his body as if he were hollow. A lifetime of working towards becoming a paragon of invincibility rendered worthless in an instant. 

He had spent his life mastering control over every part of his own body. Every fiber, every nerve ending. The idea he was spared by chance was nauseating. By chance, the blow didn’t destroy any vital organs, killing him instantly. By chance, the kakushi were able to move him quickly enough. By chance, he managed to wake up from Kocho’s induced sleep at all. 

Kyojuro shifted into the next stance, forcing his body to remember the rhythm of each fiery surge of power. He longed for the zone he could so easily slip into. When each cell of his body felt as though it burned with the intensity of his soul, no amount of pain or exhaustion could dampen it. 

The searing tenacity, the flow. Wiping his brow he found the warm flow he desired, albeit in a drastically different form. A crimson streak across the back of his hand was the last thing he saw before sanguine blood obscured the vision in his left eye once again. Pressing the heel of his hand against his eye once again in an attempt to stop the seep from the wound.

—————————————

You were well aware of Kyojuro’s routine, if he was off bed rest chances are he would go back to it even against the better judgment of others, and probably himself too.

So when you saw him sitting with his back to the house, cross legged in the middle of the training field, his katana sheathed on his right side a change from it usually placed on his left. Stranger than that, you had rarely seen him take breaks much less fully sit down on the grass. 

“Are you alr-You’re bleeding!” Once you were within his earshot, you 

He looked over his shoulder with his right eye anxiously following your exclamatory reaction. He assured you with a forced cheerfulness, though the flicker of uncertainty in his voice betrayed the bravado. “Although,” he continued, his tone lowering slightly, “I fear if Senjuro sees me like this, he might go into a panic…”

As much as you wanted to scold him for neglecting his own wellbeing for the sake of others yet again, he had a point. Senjuro had just been in a state of shock wondering if he would ever see his brother again. The last thing he needed was to see Kyojuro hurt yet again.

“Yes! I-I’ll get some first aid!”

You moved briskly back to the house to retrieve some standard medical supplies. Coming out to sit on his left side in the grass, mimicking his seated position with his back to the home. From the way you angled yourself, legs folding to your side, if Senjuro happened to walk by, perhaps he would just figure you both were basking in the sun on a nice day and nothing more.

You slowly shake your head as you begin to wet the clean cloth with rubbing alcohol. “You are an exceptionally lucky man, you know that?” 

He chuckled lightly, a glowing smile spreading across his face. “I suppose I am if a beautiful lady is willing to take care of me.” 

You sigh, glancing down for a moment fighting back a grin that will no doubt spread to you like a contagion. “Look up please.” As you asked, his irises shifted upwards as you moved the cloth in your hand toward him, the laceration across his left eye freshly reopened on full display, stretching clear across his eyelid and nearly severing his eyebrow.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Kyojuro Rengoku. You know what I mean.” You can’t help but smile through the scoff you force out, your attempts to remain stern and impress upon him seriousness foiled.

Holding the damp cloth with a steady grip, you approach his eye with utmost caution, ensuring you don’t accidentally brush against his ink-black lashes. You carefully touch the rag to his face, disinfecting the length of the wound, your movements deliberate and gentle. 

“No! I am merely speaking the truth you are-” His proclamation was halted by a wince at the sting from the antiseptic’s contact with the raw wound. 

“I’m sorry if that hurts.” Your brow furrows as you pull the cloth away, necessary as it was to do, it pained you to be the cause of any further bodily discomfort for him. 

You take a minute to find the most appropriate way to say what you mean, for both of your sakes. “First they weren’t sure you would…” 

You meet his gaze tacitly before continuing. “Then Shinobu-san tells you the chances of retaining sight in your left eye was nonexistent, and here you are breathing and seeing and yet you still keep pushing yourself to the point of coming apart at the seams.” You try to mask your unease, seeing him continue working himself beyond his limits, when he is already so fragile at the moment.

“At least wear the eyepatch the Butterfly Mansion issued you!” You implore with something of a half smile. The sheer stubbornness with which he dismissed every injury, no matter how serious, would be humorous if it wasn’t so deeply concerning.

“Oh please, I need no such thing! I’m doing nothing I cannot handle, I assure you.” That authoritative voice, brimming with optimism. It was so easy to hear it, and blindly take each word as fact. But you know better by now, you could’ve told him every bone in his body was broken beyond repair and he would probably still respond that way. Even so, you want to trust him to stay within his means. 

“Ok, ok you’re ‘fine.’ I understand.” You reply resignedly speaking on your exhale. “Just please just take care of your eye. You’ve always had the most lovely eyes…” You say looking deeply into the golden rimmed eyes of the man before you.

Usually, when those  spoke of the Rengoku family, they used the word "powerful" to describe their distinctive features—sharp cheekbones, avian-esque orbs, blazing hair, and the aura of intensity that seemed to radiate from them. They served as yet another irrefutable motif that connected each Flame Pillar to the long legacy of unrivaled swordsmen bearing the Rengoku name.

“Powerful” was no doubt a compliment. He had always taken pride in the honor of possessing the iconic visage of his courageous ancestors. “Lovely” was different though. It felt intimate, a word that captured a softness. One rarely used when likening the fierce warriors of the Rengoku lineage with description, or him by that association.  

“If you like them, then I am only more excited by the prospect of passing them onto our children one day!” He exclaimed, the ever present ember burning behind his gaze billowing into a roaring inferno with joyous fervor.

Your cheeks flushed like a watercolor canvas, rosy hues blooming across your complexion. He could only surmise in that moment the evident dilation of your pupils to be a product of shock, at worse maybe even discomfort. 

He had gotten overzealous again, it was all too easy for him to put his foot in his mouth and take someone aback when he felt impassioned enthusiasm overflowing from him. However, you didn’t seem jarred or off put by his sudden pronouncement. You gaze warmed, softly smiling back at him.

“Yes, me too.” Your voice on the gentle breeze was as steady and sincere. 

But for a moment, it all fell away. The corps, his family legacy, the pillars, all of it. Holding her knees gently on the grassy Earth beside him, looking back at him. Rays of light catching against her skin, wrapping around her like a golden embrace, illuminating her form with a radiance that seemed almost otherworldly. Her hair danced in the breeze, tousling it to frame her face with an effervescent allure.

He felt warmth creeping up his cheeks, just as it had for her moments ago. He desperately tried to suppress the flush as he turned his gaze downward, focusing intently on the ground.

Death or disablement. Kyojuro knew these to be the only two circumstances in which a pillar could honorably resign from their post. Here he was, neither dead nor maimed. The verdict ought to be clear as day. He was more than aware of the inevitable weakness that all humans must experience in time. 

But to face that inevitability when he could still do so much? If he could swing a katana, he had a duty to serve. Right? His father should have continued serving as the Flame Hashira until he lost his sharpness to age. 

But the day Mother passed, something died in Father, or maybe something already dead within him had begun to fester. Kyojuro always told himself that he would not succumb to the same fate, despair would not be the death of him, certainly not if even an Upper Rank wasn’t. 

“I have… a friend… who is thinking about their future as a Hashira.” Kyojuro spoke with an uncharacteristic softness, fingers fidgeting with the hilt of his sword.

You looked at him inquisitively before having what you believe to be a revelation. “You mean the Sound Pillar?” 

“Oh… right, yes. Uzui, of course.” Kyojuro's words stumbled out, a nervous smile flickering on his lips, eyes darting away, as if relieved to hear you identify the former Hashira, already settled on retirement. 

“If he decides to retire, does it mean he has lost his passion? Or maybe he is running away?” His voice raised closer to its usual vivacity, but the typical enthusiasm felt infected with an air of apprehension. His fingers tightened around the sword’s hilt, outlining the flame insignia swordguard with a deliberate motion of his thumb.

Before you could even think to answer, he pressed on with another question, his urgency palpable.

“What if…” He paused, lightly clearing his throat adding the aforementioned yet again, his cadence returning to its equilibrium. “My friend…” 

He looked deeply into your eyes, the bright vermillion honeycomb pools poured into yours like a gentle ray of sunlight at dawn, adorning everything within with its warmth. His words regained their normal directness in earnest. “Is worried the person he loves might not want him anymore, if he isn’t strong?”

You tilt your head, your gaze previously riddled with intrigue tempered tacitly at his probing, you understood now. “I’m certain the people in his life value him for more than something as superficial as his strength.”  

You put your palms flat behind you on the tufts of grass leaning back to feel the sun warm your face.

“I don’t think of ‘strong’ as a person, I think of it as a state of being. We are all allowed to be weak and rely on the strength of others, and when others are weak we can give them our strength. No one person has to be strong all the time.” 

More importantly, you saw through the electric personality of the natural born leader to all and the brave exterior of the warrior. You saw the man beneath it all. The kind of soul that was as tender as it was resiliently fortuitous. 

Hanging on every word you notice the intertwine of his arms, crossed against his chest as he clung on your every word with rapt attentiveness. You straighten your posture leaning toward him, interlocking your fingers to the corded sinews of his forearms, pulling them from their interwoven tensed state as you had done before.

You took his worn hands in your own. “Well I hope you tell ‘your friend’ as much. Although, I would like to ask you something now if you would allow me.”

“Of course my flame, anything.” he replied, his voice filled with earnestness, a bright smile spreading across his face. 

“Did you remember what I told you in the Butterfly Mansion? The last thing I said to you before you lost consciousness?” 

His eyes narrowed as they trailed off into thought. He racked his brain for the last moment of light before his eyelids fell heavily as the sounds around him dissipated into silence. Before the oblivion of the serum he was injected with took effect, only muffled words cut by sobs come to mind.

“Please forgive me, I cannot recall.” He bowed his head remorsefully before meeting you again with a hopeful countenance. “Would you tell me again, my flame?”

A rosy hue rouges your cheeks as you fidget from side to side where you sat, part of you didn’t want to tear your gaze from the safety of the trodden Earth . But you couldn’t stand the idea of missing a moment basking in the bright eyes of the man you nearly lost.

 “I told you that I loved you...” Your voice was a murmur, barely above a whisper, and as your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “I love you. I meant it, I love who you are. That will not be changed by what you are.” 

“I have never found many things in life that I could not bring myself to love, or so I thought.” “What a fool I was. I did not even know what that word meant back then. What a truly lucky man I am.” 

You would’ve liked to sappily argue that it was, in fact, you who was the lucky one. However, you knew the endless back-and-forth that would’ve followed if you did. 

So instead, you let both your body and heart bask in warmth from two separate suns—one worlds away, and one right beside you. You let the moment linger between you, content in the quiet truth that you didn’t need to say it aloud for him to know you felt the same.

To be continued...

Taglist: @rift-and-rise @leannathespacewerewolf @hellscampcounselor @hauntedaugust @obsidianlive @oh1boy @chocolatebannana2 @erexart @vaelzz @kalypsoox @jiy-une @mayyhaps

[martiniluvr]

IDK if requests are open but i NEED a Jason Todd hc as a dad

Love yaaa

🎧

they absolutely are ESPECIALLY for dad!jason omg… headcanons under the cut 🩷

also my first emoji anon hi ily 🥹

minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

jason todd never thought he’d be a father, but now that he is one, he can’t imagine life any other way.

I know in my heart of hearts he’s a girl dad. just picture it. everything about it makes sense.

she inherits his little white streak, and it’s his favourite thing in the world.

he’s determined to be the father he always wanted needed. he’s loving, affectionate, gentle, and fiercely protective of his little girl. from the first time he holds her as a newborn, he knows he’d kill die for her.

there’s no request he can deny his child. donuts after breakfast? of course, he’ll have one too. flashy cartoons before bed? absolutely. playing hair salon before school? he’s dropping her off with butterfly clips still in his white streak.

one day, you get a call from the school about an incident in class that started with a boy breaking her barbie pencil and ended in a bloody nose.

“my daddy told me it’s okay to punch mean people! he says he does it all the time at work.” oops.

you glare at jason, but he can’t hide the proud smile on his face. you apologise profusely to the teacher, ensuring this will be dealt with. as you leave the school, though, jason takes your daughter’s small hand in his, giving it an encouraging squeeze, and you know you can’t be mad for long.

there will come a day when you both have to contend with the challenges of adolescence—prom, parties, mood swings, driving. jason will have to meet her first boyfriend, and he won’t be able to hide his disapproving scowl.

for now, though, you take in the sight of one of gotham’s most feared vigilantes and the pigtailed little girl tugging at his sleeve. he bends down so she can whisper in his ear, and then turns to look at you with a grin. “I think rainbow ice cream sounds great, doll. whaddya think, ma?”

sigh…dad!jason you live in my heart 🫶

[ohsc]

Imagine Sam with his daughter and she's dressing him up and doing his hair. You know those fairy wings you can wear, her forcing him to wear those and she's wearing a princess dress.

tysm for the request!! i’m a bit rusty so i feel like this kinda sucks and it ended up being much longer than intended lol but i’m loving this verse sm so much more to come :) | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, kid fic, fluff, not proof red, requests open only for juno fics

“Don’t laugh.” Were the first words out of his mouth when he opened the door and saw her stood there.

He had been trying to clean up the apartment when he knew that she was coming over after work — also in an attempt to starve off the giddiness, which hadn’t worked out either — when his daughter had attached herself to his leg and refused to let go until he played with her. Juno, he was convinced, had all of the stubbornness of a Winchester, and he’d rather just give in easily then peel her off of his leg and have a crying toddler and a messy apartment.

Y/N had been visiting more and more over the recent weeks, she had started to work herself into the little routine that he and Juno had been building, and it made him so soft. There hadn’t been somebody that he’d looked forward to seeing like that in a long time.

Her lips were curving upwards as she looked at him, lips pressed together in a clear attempt to not laugh at him. “…you look pretty.”

Juno’s recent game of choice had been dress up, which was honestly just a kinder way of saying she liked to hold him hostage and dress him up until she got bored. His hair was pulled into three pigtails, there were god knows how many butterfly clips up there, and he was pretty sure there were at least two stickers on his face somewhere.

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes, stepping aside to let her into the apartment. He really tried not to stare as she stepped past, but she really was just so pretty. It would help if he didn’t have Dean in his ear whenever he called telling him that he clearly had a thing for waitresses. “My stylist got bored waiting for you, here.” Sam gently took her jacket from her and hung it up next to his own and Juno’s red coat on the hooks by the door.

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not, you look great.” She giggled, a hand reached up with the intention of touching his hair, but the shout of her name from down the hall took both of their attention.

She crouched down just in time to open her arms to the toddler barrelling down the hall towards her, almost slipping on the material of her princess dress in the process which made Sam wince.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She caught Juno in her arms with a tight squeeze, somehow not knocked to the floor. Sam was so immeasurably soft whenever he got to watch her with his daughter, how much she was adored by Juno and how much she adored her back. It was the most important thing to him, that his daughter liked her. And she really did — more than him, he thought sometimes.

“Oh I missed you so much,” she squeezed his toddler once more before pulling back to look at her, smiling as she touched the puffy skirt of her dress. “Oh don’t you look so pretty, Junie? I love your dress.”

“It’s sleeping beauty’s dress,” Juno informed her, smile full of pink chubby cheeks as she soaked up the praise. “Daddy got it for me for my last birthday, when I was three.” She held up three fingers to show her, somehow covered in glitter that Sam could only dread to think was in his hair.

“Well it’s very pretty,” she beamed, gently smoothing over a few wrinkles in the dress. “Are you dressing up daddy to match?”

“No,” she shook her head, tone firm as if it was obvious. “He’s a fairy,” as if she suddenly just remembered what they’d been doing she frowned and let go of Y/N, clumsily stepping around her to grab at Sam’s hand and tugged with far too much strength for her little body. “Daddy, not done.”

Sam sighed, eyes down on her as she tugged on his arm as if she could pull him down the hallway herself. She had turned her big puppy eyes on, the ones he could never really say no to. “I know, Bug, why don’t you let me make Y/N a coffee and then—”

“No,” she whined, tugging harder. “Now.”

The clouds were forming for a tantrum, it had been that way all afternoon, it’s why he’d settled for letting her play dress up in the first place. She always got cranky after pre-school on Mondays. “Baby—”

“It’s okay,” a hand touched his arm and he turned to look at her. “I know where everything is, I can make one. I did interrupt play time.”

“Thanks,” he breathed, ever grateful for how amazing she was with Juno. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have assumed that she had kids of her own. “Really, I’ll make it up—”

“Daddy.” Juno was whining louder, tugging his arm again, and he just let out a breath as he leaned down to scoop her up onto his arms, settling her on his hip.

“Why are you acting up, hm?” Not really annoyed, he knew she couldn’t really help it, he reached his free hand up to tickle at her side until she giggled. Satisfied that he’d successfully worked around a tantrum he led Y/N down the hall with his daughter on his hip, though she already knew the place like the back of her hand. If he wasn’t so nervous he would’ve invited her to stay the night already.

He watched her disappear into the kitchen to make herself a drink before he took Juno back into the living room, and returned to his spot on the floor where he’d been held captive for the past twenty minutes. The floor was littered with hair clips and tiaras and plastic shoes which he’d clean up when she went to bed, but he didn’t really mind the mess if it meant she was happy.

“Daddy,” she was pulling at his hair again, stood on his thighs, only not falling off onto the carpet because of his hands on her sides. He watched her reach for another hair clip, a glittery yellow butterfly, and tried not to wince as he felt it’s teeth scrape against his scalp as she shoved it into place. “Can Y/N play too?”

Juno had been attached to her ever since they’d become friends. It was sweet, endearing really. Aside from himself and Dean, the only other adults she really got to see were her teachers at pre-school. Juno really adored her, clung to her every moment she could. She’d come with Sam to pick Juno up from school once and she’d practically screamed across the playground when she saw her.

“If she wants to, Junie,” he hummed, holding her steady as she leaned to the floor to grab something else. “She had a long day at work, she might be tired.”

“I still play after school.” Her nose scrunched up in a way that made him smile.

“Waitressing is a little different to school, baby. It’s not very fun.”

Juno hummed like she was thinking about it as she scrambled off of his lap to reach into her toy box. “Then she should get a new job,” she settled on, tugging out her pink fairy wings from the crate. “A fun one.”

Sam nodded a little, smiling softly as he murmured, “I agree.”

Little hands pulled at his arm, and he leaned forwards like she’d moved him herself. The elastic loops of the fairy wings were a little small for his shoulders, but he didn’t complain about the tightness of the band as he helped her get them on him, worth it to hear her giggle when it was all done.

“Those look great,” he looked up and watched as Y/N walked into the room, two mugs in her hands, one of which she placed down on the coffee table for him. “You did a really great job, Junie, now he really looks like a fairy.”

The way she was smiling at him was making his face heat up. Jesus, he needed to get a grip.

“Can you play?” Juno clambered off of Sam’s lap again to head over to her, grabbing some butterfly clips from the floor on her way. “Pretty please?”

“Baby, I’m sure she’s probably really tired—”

“It’s okay,” she waved him off with a fond little smile, before she looked back to Juno. “I’ll play if you make a deal with me, sweet girl.”

Juno nodded furiously like it was the most important thing in the world.

“If you promise me that you’ll eat your vegetables with dinner you can dress me up however you like, hm?”

Juno beamed and nodded, her little pinky clunkily hooking around the one that Y/N held up.

Sam met her eyes over Juno’s head, mouthing a thank you that earned him a smile in return. God, he was smitten.

[kairismess]

✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆ HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN YOU DO THEIR HAIR

TETSUROU KUROO.

he's not used to having any other hairstyle but his signature bed head or rooster head look, but he's loving it so far.

his favorite part about whenever you do his hair is when you give him a top knot or little pigtails, he never takes them off, not even during practice matches to show off his beautiful new hairstyle to the others.

he definitely loves cherry blossom hair ties, it makes him feel just as cute as you.

KENMA KOZUME.

yeah, kenma doesn't usually feel comfortable whenever his side vision is exposed, but he's slowly getting more and more accustomed to it whenever you do his hair.

kenma prefers having hair pins or clips in his hair instead of having it tied actually; he loves collecting hair clips from you and putting them in his bangs to keep them out of the way of his eyes.

he loves the feeling of your hands in his hair or on his scalp, it really calms him down and makes him sleep more comfortably, especially when he's lying down on your lap.

TOORU OIKAWA.

oikawa is definitely into couple hairstyles, no matter how ridiculous it might look on him.

he loves cinnamoroll or pochaco hair accessories, and he loves it whenever you put little pigtails in his hair and you play with them.

the most favorite thing oikawa loves when you're doing his hair is when you two exchange tea like you're in a salon together; of course, oikawa's usually grievances are about kageyama or ushijima, but it's also mainly about how he thinks you make him look too cute for his own good...

OSAMU MIYA.

osamu really doesn't mind you doing his hair, he wants you to do whatever you want with it, as long as you don't shave his hair off.

he also really loves having your fingers on his scalp or through the strands of his hair. it relaxes him after a long day of dealing with atsumu or being frustrated he couldn't see you.

osamu loves the butterfly clips you put in his hair, he loves making atsumu and the others on the team jealous he has a sweet partner who does his hair for him.

TADASHI YAMAGUCHI.

yamaguchi doesn't have a particular hairstyle from you that he appreciates, he appreciates and loves every way you style up his hair!

he enjoys it whenever you play around with his hair, especially when you use hair ties and clips that you think accentuate his hair color and eyes.

whenever you tie his hair up into a topknot, he gets really happy, because your face always lights up. and when you put your hands on either sides of his face and squish his cheeks together, admiring his cuteness, making him fluster because you can see his freckles up close and how red he's getting... making him even cuter.

[thebookbutterfly]

Get ready because it’s time for girl-dad!Simon Riley part 2.

We all know that Simon’s daughter would have him wrapped around her little finger. So, of course he’s going to spoil her with his military salary. She is never unreasonable about it but when she really wants something all she has to do is bat her tiny little eyelashes at him and it’s game over.

She has a wealth of Barbies, sparkly dresses, pink t-shirts with skulls on them and light up sketchers. Her favourite doll (much to your amusement) was a soldier action figure she had begged Simon to buy. “It’s just like you daddy!” She had squealed, little pigtails bouncing as she dragged him to see what she had found. 5 minutes later they had left the store GI Joe in hand, and Simon, with watery eyes (not that he would admit it).

When he is away on deployment it is the one thing she takes everywhere. She had very quickly been unable to fall asleep without it.

When Simon finally gets back he wants to spend as much time with his little girl as possible. You can’t count how many times you had opened the front door to find Simon’s huge frame hunched up on a tiny chair in your daughter’s room. His eyes were always warm and his scarred mouth set in a soft smile as he pretended to take sips of tea from the teensy pink teacup she had handed him. The sight of him there, messy blond hair filled with glittery butterfly clips, while being bossed around by a girl 1/10th his size never failed to be amusing.

And oh boy would his daughter boss him around. When they play dolls Simon is under a strict set of rules. One of which being that if he was going to play Barbies with her then he HAS to use his girl voice. Between his naturally deep timbre and his accent it is a bit of a strangled impression. But he gives it his all every time.

The idea of this big, scarred, war-hardened man being soft and gentle with his daughter has me down HORRENDOUS. I need to lie down—

[fluffeebunzzz]

Love and Deepspace ✨️

The LI's being parents - Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus and Caleb

Self insert x Reader

Warnings - none, Fluff, slight angst with Caleb if you squint on the song.

🌟 Xavier: I think would be a boy dad, I can totally see him with your son passed out on his shoulder. Taking after his dad with his excessive amount of sleep bordering on concerning. His soft little sighs as his little hands hold onto Xavier's shirt while his Dad just plops himself down onto the floor inbetween your legs. Leaning his back against the couch and leaning his head back to look at you from his position. "Requesting head rubs for me and our little star?" Who are you to deny the both of them? You have two hands, after all.

🐟 Rafayel: Rafayel is a girl dad through and through. He would be the type to spoil the hell out of your daughter and when she develops his over dramatic antics he's regularly requesting back up from you.

It all started when Thomas gifted her an artist Barbie for her birthday and since then your daughters been trying to paint everything she could get her hands on. It also didn't help that the paint she procured was from Rafayels reject bin, a mass of shades and paints that didn't pass his quality test. "No sweet pea, you can't use that shade of green, its bad. It would clash, here let me get you-", "You're bad Papa!" She would shout back at him in a childish outburst that only a toddler could do so confidently. Confidently enough that it would leave Rafayel flabbergasted while he watches her proceed to paint her Barbie car that horrible seafoam green he hated while he yells for you to come help him.

"Y/N, OUR SWEET PEAS BEEN POSSESSED."

⛄️ Zayne: Whole heartedly believe he would be a girl dad, no question about it. I can see him reading her bedtime stories and being the one to provide emergency surgeries to her stuffed animals. "Mr.Stuffins hurt his paw again? Where'd he get hurt this time snowflake?" Through fat tears holding Mr.Stuffins disembodied limb your daughter would bable back, "H-he got caught on t-the slide when I went down and I hurt him." Smiling softly he'd wipe her tears away and pat her head gently before taking the limb from her hands. "It's okay sweetheart, Papa's going to fix him right up. Do you want to help hold him steady?" Letting her know it's okay and so she can get closure on accidently hurting her stuffie.

🐦‍⬛ Sylus: Sylus I can see as having two daughters with you. You're currently pregnant with your second while sitting on the couch next to Sylus. All the while your 3 year old is digging through your hair supplies, determined to make her dad pretty. Grabbing handfuls of butterfly clips and star clips to press in, she's creating sporadic patches of hair that sticks up in small pigtails. Her hands clap together in joy as her work comes together while Sylus is gently teasing her - "Be careful, little bird. You're going to make your dad go bald." Giggles erupting from her as she grabs another clip with red gems surrounding it, reaching her small hand out to his for his approval before he laughs and gives the go ahead. (Do you or do you not feel Bonita Sylus?)

🍎 Caleb: Caleb would 100% be a dad to twins, 1 boy and 1 girl. He was absolutely ecstatic when you told him, clearing off his schedule for the next two weeks leaving Liam to handle things unless under dire means. He's immediately taking you to pick out nursery supplies, making the spareroom in Skyhaven into their nursery and getting giddy over baby clothes with you. He's already plotting out decorative themes, airplanes, ships, apples, sunflowers, you name it. His favorite nursery find in particular was the windchimes he found while picking up formula that you could program to play certain songs - his go to song for it was "You are my Sunshine".

He also knew that the pregnancy was going to take it's toll on you just due to the nature of it being twins and thus after giving birth to your twins he purchased a twin holster. That way he could keep the two strapped to his chest while they slept against him while he cooked dinner for the both of you. Your son was starting to get fussy when Caleb crouched down to grab a pot to start his soup base in as he rubs a soothing hand against his back bouncing himself on one heel as he stands. "Shhh, its okay peanut I got you. Mama's resting, are ya hungry?" He'd offer, reaching into the fridge and moving to heat up some of the milk stored for your babies. Swiftly popping a warm bottle into your sons mouth, while checking on your daughter who's still out cold on his chest. Listening to the quiet content sighs your son was making while drinking Caleb starts humming a soft nonsensical tune to himself, or should I say it's only nonsensical if you havent heard the song that would play on the windchimes in their nursery. Caleb continues cooking for you and your family. He's forever grateful to you for being back in his life and for gifting him his sunflower babies.

[bloodykora]

Thonking hard about Buggy and long haired Buggy especially. Like I don’t mind the stylistic choice in the LA but maaaaan, maaaaaaaan. There’s the obvious stuff like playing with his long hair and braiding it but my mind keeps going back to Head!Buggy and you and it’s just a bit of time to kill before you get anywhere and you were honestly just supposed to watch him so he doesn’t get snatched up by a seagull and something and you both agree this doesn’t mean ANYTHING (he’s gonna develop a soft spot for you and ONLY you out of all the straw hats immediatly), but it’s so damn boring out here and you have some hairties you found somewhere and just… You using Buggy’s head like a hairstyling toy and just braiding it for him or putting it into little buns, clipping it out of his face so it doesn’t get into his eyes etc.

Sanji passes you once and is about to say something but Buggy just gives him a glare that’s all „Got something funny to say punk?“ and he just shakes his head and moves on.

(You forget one tie in there before he reuinites with his body. A simple little thing with two skull beads. He initially keeps it because he actually feels it suites his style but he developes a fondness for this little thing in particular that he doesn’t allow himself to think about for to long)

This is so much longer then I thought it would be so I'm putting it under read more but like yes.

- No cause I absolutely agree, love his long gorgeous hair. I like to think his hair isn’t thin either, its a good mix of thickness but not to the point of curly. He’s got the nice ‘wave’ going. Did you know that in his hat, there are small braids in the hair coming out of it in the LA.

- It didn’t take long for Buggy to start complaining about the heat and it didn’t take you long to get fed up with his complaints

- You kept looking at how his blue hair kept draping over the side of the barrel he was on, and how his bandana has not moved a inch since he was taken out of the bag on the ship

- "Let me do your hair." "No." "Let’s continue then to sit in almost complete silence, would you like to play cards? Oh, wait. You have no hands. What about I Spy? I spy something blue."

- Just making fun of the his situation until he caves in to let you, he says to stop your whining but in reality he could really use the scalp massage

- Putting a crate behind the barrel or something so you can sit and do it. It’s softer than you had thought it would be, and you could see small braids near his bottom layers.

- "Did you do these?" "Huh? I can’t really see the back of my head, you gotta be more descriptive." Holding one of them out for him to see. "Oh yeah, adds a nice touch to the hat when I’m performing!"

- The shed though, his hair would shed so much. You’d be pulling blue hair strands out of your clothes for the rest of time. And they’d get everywhere on the ship too.

- You could hear him sigh in relief when you first start brushing through it, and you felt relieved knowing those knots have been eradicated.

- First thing you do is just a little bun so his neck could get some fresh air for once and then it evolves into the craziness.

- Buns, pigtails, high and low ponys, 1 braid, 2 braids, fishtails, french, dutch, braiding 2 pieces and then wrapping it around his forehead like a crown. Favourite would be doing 2 french braids at the top of his head til it's the bottom and then putting the hair tie there so it becomes a fancy low pigtail.

- "I can't believe how pretty you are with your hair, not very fair to the rest of us good sir." You joke out, meaning it though. "I've always been pretty!" You snort at his reply not knowing how warm his face had started feeling.

- Every pirate has a niche collection, yours? Your hair pin collection. To die for. You have been collecting hair clips and such for this exact occasion. Butterflies, wooden, yellow, purple, bobby pins, bows, ribbons, flowers. The whole works.

- Buggy even thinks about asking you to join his crew just for your hair decoration skills.

- One time you even trim his dead ends for him, and some of his front pieces to frame his face more.

- He got so used to it that if you didn’t approach him with a brush in hand first thing in the morning that he would start asking for you saying how he needed his royal brushing. (He’s totally not worried at all sometimes when you take too long, ha that would be. Ahem.)

- Sometimes he’d even doze off, but would swear he was just resting his eyes.

- A few times someone would stop to glance at you two but never intervene, except Luffy. He was always in awe. Sanji had voiced his concerns for you but never says anything in front of Buggy, you could never see but the two men were death staring each other every time they passed.

- Word spreads through the crew and even though none of them had long enough hair to do or in Usopp’s case, has been doing it himself this whole time. They do come to ask for little clips here and there, Luffy wanting one for the string on his hat so he has something to fidget with, (Nami wanting some to wear with her different outfits later on), Usopp wondering where you got heart ones so he could get one for Kaya, even Zoro wondering if you had one he could wear for Kuina’s memory on special occasions.

-You knew you were nearing Coco village, you had overheard Buggy talking to Usopp about it. How they should be there within the day. You settle for a low bun that curls up right beneath his cap.

- "No beads today?" "Well there is some on the tie but you can’t see it, I was thinking that it would be a more relaxed day. I got some stuff to do around the ship."

- Everyone is so caught up in Nami that by the time things have cooled down you realize he’s gone, no more blue hair to twirl around your fingers.

- The clown realizes too, fiddling with the tie in his hands. Burying the longing deep down, hoping he never sees you again but praying he might get a glance of you once more. He takes it out if he knows he’s about to raid somewhere to avoid breaking it.

- Tears apart his quarters if he misplaces it, someone has almost lost a hand because it fell off a table. 

[sakkiichi]

TICKETS TO BARBIE.

watching the barbie movie with him.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao, Venti, Kaveh, Albedo, Arataki Itto x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, crack, modern au, headcanons.

word count: 1.6k.

so, i went to see the barbie movie the other day. my friend watched it too 🩵 (sadly we couldn’t go together, as we live miles away), but we both loved it, so i thought this would be a fun idea for some quick headcanons.

✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

— Kazuha just loves seeing how excited you are to watch the new Barbie movie. His warm eyes shine and his smile is lovestruck as he observes you rushing around, preparing your pink outfit.

— He’ll have to dedicate a poem to you, with Barbie’s signature color wrapped around you as the main theme.

— If you want to match outfits with him, your boyfriend will oblige, because even if the color choice is not something he’d wear usually, Kazuha loves the idea of matching with you and he adores even more how happy you look.

— Your sparkly gaze when you decorate his hair with pink strawberry and hello kitty clips makes his heart feel all warm and fuzzy, to the point of getting lost in your stare and completely spacing out when you call his name.

— “You’re so beautiful, dove.” Your lover dreamily sighs, when he finally comes to. Cupping your face, don’t blame him if he smudges your perfectly applied lipgloss with his honeyed kisses, alright?

— You and Kazuha are definitely that super cute and affectionate couple at the cinema. From holding hands, to him sneaking cheek kisses, to you feeding him popcorn… Everyone adores your little displays of affection, you two are just so sweet.

— Also, Kazuha looks so good in pink! If you tell him that, though, he’ll get all blushy. And oh, when you caress his face or kiss his forehead? He’s just like a baby bunny with how cute he is. However, he’ll be sure to fluster you with his multiple compliments…

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

— You quite literally have to drag him to watch the movie.

— “Barbie? Isn’t that for little girls?” He spat with a frown, arms crossed over his chest when you presented the idea to him.

— However, your boyfriend happens to be very soft for you, so just give him the puppy eyes and he’ll bend to your every wish.

— “Please?” “Ugh, fine, whatever.”

— He also pretends he doesn’t enjoy the hug and kiss you give him when he agrees to go with you.

— So, the day to go watch Barbie arrives, and Scara shows up at the living room of your shared apartment dressed in all black, ripped jeans on and purple headphones wrapped around his neck.

— “Well? Let’s go watch that stupid movie.” He says, purposefully averting his gaze from your all-pink outfit (he’s totally jealous he won’t be the only one to see you while you look this gorgeous).

— “Not dressed like that, you aren’t.”

— And that is how you proceeded to dress the angry cat that is your boyfriend in a pink top with frilly sleeves. (Alas, you couldn’t get away with making him wear a skirt, but at least you managed to put his hair in pigtails and snap a picture before he ripped the pink hairties off).

— Honestly, Kuni secretly enjoys the movie and thinks weird barbie is neat, even if he won’t tell you about it (yes, you definitely were imagining it when you saw him shed tears at that one scene with Ruth and Barbie).

✧ XIAO

— “Two tickets to Barbie.” And it’s two people, one clad in pink from head to toe, the other in all black, combat boots, and a bunch of tattoos and piercings. He’s wearing a pink butterfly clip in his dark teal hair, though.

— Xiao can’t say no to you, even if he’s overwhelmed by all the people present at the cinema, and the loud atmosphere and bright colors of a crowd dressed in shades of rose are not really his thing.

— But you squeeze his hand reassuringly, your gaze meeting his sharp golden one with that smile he adores to see on your lips. He gets to be with you when you seem so happy, so carefree, and that’s more than he could have ever wished for.

— Your boyfriend might not be wearing the signature color of the doll starring in the film, but his cheeks have certainly taken a deep flushed tone when you hold onto his arm lovingly, your fingers softly running over the swirling patterns of his inked skin.

— Please, please, please, buy something sweet for him to eat while you two watch the movie :( sweet pop corn, pastries, candy… Xiao enjoys mild and sweet flavors, so if you surprise him with a treat like that, he’ll get so flustered and happy! Are you gonna miss out on such an adorable sight?

✧ VENTI

— He’s right in his element!

— Totally wears pink clothes, pink accessories, heart shaped sunglasses and pink makeup.

— If you’d let him, he’d definitely show up in something like his archon outfit, but pink, wings included (yeah, he’s a victoria’s secret angel and he knows it).

— Don’t let him bring the bottle of rosé wine he tried to sneak past you, though, please.

— His mischief aside, Venti is actually one of the best people to watch Barbie with. He’s fun, is invested in the plot, songs and outfits, he’s a comforting presence and is well versed in pop culture.

— The only con is you’re a tad bit jealous that he looks better in pink that you do. He’s certainly slaying in that outfit. Rest assured, though, Venti is not at all shy when compliments are due, so he’ll be sure to shower you with plenty, and he means every single one of them.

— Loves the movie and loves getting to experience it with you. Under his carefree and cheerful front, your lover is someone who really craves for tranquil moments like this, just you and him, spending time together doing something you enjoy… Venti wishes all days could be like this, as much as he likes partying and drinks.

✧ KAVEH

— Similar to Venti, he’s thriving, and maybe he’s even looking forward to this more than you are.

— Has his outfit and makeup thought up days, if not weeks, beforehand (and obviously he has sparkly pink clips to combine with his clothes, as the babygirl he is).

— Kaveh will offer to do your hair, makeup and to help you choose your clothes. And who are you to refuse? Not when you know he’s amazing at it, not when he’s giving you the most precious puppy eyes this world has seen.

— He won’t let you pay for the tickets or snacks either, no matter how much you insist. Your boyfriend has a hard time accepting kindness, especially from someone as special as you; he could never let you invite him or even let you pay for your part and manage to sleep peacefully at night.

— During the movie, he’s living. Takes mental note of the dresses and fits, all the barbie dream houses and every different design he spots. His kind gaze is wide and sparkling and you find yourself staring at your pretty boyfriend more than at the big screen. To see him so… free and untroubled… You wouldn’t trade that for the world.

✧ ALBEDO

— You think it’s seriously unfair how good pink suits him (let’s face it, Albedo is royalty and will be pretty in literally anything) but right now, he looks not unlike a Barbie himself (unfair).

— If he’s in one of his teasing moods, he’ll give you the half lidded eyes and the shit eating smirk when you’re very much not inconspicuously staring at him with your mouth agape.

— “You look stunning yourself, my dearest.” The blonde will whisper, leaning close to your jawline as he cups the back of your head, the lingering caress of his lips on the skin right below your ear making your knees almost buckle.

— Actually is very interested in the critical message the movie intends to portray, and has everything figured out right before it happens (you can totally tell by the way his cerulean eyes glint knowingly, his chin cradled between his fingers, rosy lips titled upwards).

— Naturally, as an artist, Albedo takes note of every design and the whole colorimetry presented through the scenes. Your boyfriend hopes, one day, he can capture you in every shade of vibrant rose and sunshine, even if he believes no paint on canvas will ever do you justice.

— Definitely thinks weird barbie is cool and feels a little guilty because he knows if he were to give a doll to Klee, it would run the risk of meeting that exact same fate (probably accidentally, due to his little sister’s eh… rowdy and adventurous nature).

✧ ARATAKI ITTO

— “Itto, repeat after me: no, you can’t rename our shared apartment the mojo dojo casa house.”

— Itto probably relates to Ken, except for the latter’s actions, because your partner thinks all women are queens and he’d never do what Ken did.

— You probably have to keep an eye on him, to prevent him from being too loud during the movie; he means well, but he’s excitable and can’t help but comment and laugh noisily.

— Just give him a soft kiss on the lips and he’ll be silent for the rest of the film, wink wink. (Don’t blame him if he can’t pay attention to it afterwards, though, he’s just too entranced by your smiling expression).

— Itto would protect Ruth with his life. He adores his grandma, and somehow, the elderly lady from the movie reminds him of her; so, afterwards, he might beg you to help him choose a nice tea set as a gift and to accompany him to visit his grandmother.

— He’s definitely the type to buy some commemorative souvenir: an “I am kenough” hoodie; Ken’s fur coat, Barbie’s car… or any trinket made for the occasion. He’s just like a kid on a candy store, he looks so happy you don’t have it in yourself to deny it to him, even if he ends up buying some overpriced and maybe useless trinket.

[babysizedfics]

Gem's Baby Hair Salon

Summary:

Little Gem gets bored and convinces her big-brother-slash-babysitter Etho to play hairdresser with her. She didn’t realise he liked hair strokes so much he would regress younger than her; but she’s definitely not complaining if she gets to be the protective big sister to a baby Etho, finally!

Word count: 2.5k

Also on AO3!

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Gem sighed dramatically.

“Don’t cry yet, Gem, we’re not even near the end,“ Etho teased.

He was referring to the movie they were currently watching—in torturous silence.

They’d been left to their own devices at Impulse’s base while he and Skizz got some chores done before dinnertime. Being a family weekend, Gem had been indulging in her littlespace all day, though Etho hadn’t been so ready to give in. His loss.

Stuck on babysitting duty, he’d put on a kid’s film—Luca—thinking it would keep Gem entertained. He wasn’t the most observant babysitter, Gem realised.

She had started getting antsy and bored halfway through, not used to being so still. And she was pretty sure she’d lasted at least five minutes since that feeling started, so she thought she was being very mature actually! Happy with her attempt, she swung her feet down from Etho’s lap and stood up. Approaching the toy chest she shared with Grian (and Etho really, though he was adamant he didn’t use the toys), she rifled through the contents and—after an internal deliberation—took out a sparkly Barbie hairbrush. She turned back brandishing the mere 1-inch toy between two fingers to see her brother smiling fondly.

“You wanna play, Gemmy?“ Etho asked in a cutesy voice.

He had no idea what was coming, she thought impishly.

Gem flopped back on the couch, shoulder to shoulder with Etho, and gave him the best puppy dog eyes of her life.

Familiar with her brand of little chaos, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What? What do you want from me?“ his voice was appropriately sceptical.

Gem’s lips pulled into a mischievous smile. “Well—“

“No, I’m not being the Ken in your Barbie game again… you make them make out too much for it to not be weird,“ Etho said carefully, a twist of disgust in his tone.

“Nooo, I didn’t want to play with the Barbies,“ Gem said, dropping her chin to his shoulder and intensifying the puppy dog act with a convincing pout. “Can we play hairdresser?“ She immediately grabbed his arm as Etho started pulling away. “Please? I promise I won’t give you the Impulse Special—“ tiny pigtails, glittery butterfly clips, satin bows, the whole shebang “—just a brush and braids.“

Etho gave her a withering look.

“Just a brush, no braids?“ she bargained with a charming toothy grin.

The softening of his glare was enough confirmation for her; he had just unwittingly booked an appointment at the best hair salon on the server! With a squeak of joy, she clambered to sit atop the back of the couch before he could change his mind. Legs framing his torso, she eagerly pulled his shoulders back so she could reach his head.

“Thank you, big brother,“ she sang, surveying his tousled hair.

“Just be gentle…“ he warned.

When she tried to part it down the middle some strands knotted together instantly. At her persistent tug, Etho sucked a pained breath through his teeth.

“Sorry, sorry!“ Gem hurried to apologise, dropping the white strands to inspect the job first. “It’s just really messy back here.“

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I combed it…“ he mumbled, tensing his shoulders.

No kidding! It was pretty hard for short, straight hair to get tangled (she would know as a professional play hairdresser), but it was clear Etho had neglected his hair for a while. This was a job the Barbie brush wasn’t up to.

“Hold on, lemme go get something.“ Gem clumsily shuffled down from her perch and skipped toward the hallway.

“No pretty stuff, Gem!“ his yell followed her.

Gem rolled her eyes at Etho’s paranoia and drawled back, “No, Mr Fragile Masculinity, I wouldn’t dream of it; just getting a real brush.“

She stuck to her promise mostly, only choosing to grab the detangling spray last minute.

Etho predictably locked eyes on the pink bottle instantly upon her return. “What’s that?“

“It makes your hair wet to help comb it,“ she explained coolly, putting her hands on her hips as she learnt from Pearl. Then added a fib for good measure: “It’s just water. Now are you gonna let me brush your dumb hair or are you gonna be a baby about it?“

That shut him up nicely. He shuffled further back into the couch cushions and landed his gaze back on the TV.

“Fine,“ he grumbled, pretending to have a sudden interest in the film. Though he was unable to resist adding, “It’s not dumb, it’s cool…“

Cleverly choosing not to comment on the peek of a blush above his mask, Gem resituated herself behind him.

“And this is meant to be a fun game, Etho. At least try to pretend you’re not you.“ The resulting elbow shoving into her shin was more painful than she let on. “Excuse me, sir! We don’t take this kind of abuse at our establishment!“

There was a light chuckle from her customer. “Okay, okay—since you’re being such a professional about it,“ Etho conceded. “I apologise for my behaviour, Miss.“

“Finally, some respect around here! Now sit still.“

“I am.“

“Nu-uh, you got the wiggles,“ Gem pointed out. He always got them when he was anxious. The aforementioned wiggles stopped.

With a nod to herself, she got to work on spritzing Etho’s hair generously.

“Gem!“ Etho whined after just a few seconds.

“What now?“ Gem squeaked in offense, throwing her hands up dramatically.

“You said it was water, why does it smell like product?“

Gem giggled despite herself. “Well, technically all hair products are mainly water. It’s just water with a bunch of other stuff in it, probably. And it’s strawberry-scented!“

Trust Etho the all-natural-food-freak to have an issue with that. As he complained about fake smelling strawberry products, she paid him no mind and split some strands with her fingers. (Apart from when he complained about her strawberry toothpaste—that was personal and warranted a short argument.) It was much easier to coax the knots apart now, but she had to concentrate so as not to hurt him. She thoroughly prided herself on how gentle she was when taking care of people’s hair!

After a minute or two of careful work, she got pulled out of her focus when Etho made a soft hum.

“All good?“ she checked, ceasing her movements.

“Oh, um, yeah.“ Etho readjusted himself to sit straight—only then did Gem notice he had been slowly relaxing down in his seat.

“Nice and relaxed there?“ she giggled, stroking her fingernails across his scalp as a tease.

Etho actually sighed, instantly sinking back into the cushions again. “Mhm.“

With a fond shake of her head, Gem continued her work. A smile stayed on her face with the knowledge her brother was actually enjoying one of her games for once. Even if he was pretty passive in the play part of it.

Happy that knots weren’t going to be an issue anymore, she picked up the brush.

“And now for the main part of your treatment today, Sir,“ Gem announced very seriously, gently guiding his head to tilt to the right. He was completely pliable to it.

As soon as the plastic bristles stroked across his scalp, Gem actually felt a shiver coast through Etho’s body. As if the high pitched whine he muffled wasn’t enough.

“Oh my gosh, Etho!“ She couldn’t help the surprised laugh.

“What?“ he bit back—too hasty, too defensive, too squeaky.

“Nothing, nothing…“ she giggled. A lot of people had a tingly reaction to people touching their hair, Gem just didn’t think Etho would be one of them. Especially not such a reactive one at that.

“You just try and enjoy your spa treatment, okay? I know it’ll be hard for such a tough guy like you,“ she teased with another gentle pull of the brush through his damp hair.

“Feels nice…“ Etho admitted after a couple more brushes. And was it just the relaxation, or did his voice become just a bit small?

Gem’s smirk turned soft on her. She brought her free hand up to adjust his head position, and left it there for support when she noticed how ragdoll it had become.

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?“

Idly, while still brushing with her other hand, Gem softly trailed two fingers behind and around Etho’s ear then back again.

The man shuffled, pulling his legs up onto the couch and hugging his knees to his chest. A clear tell. Then his head lolled to the side, dropping on her knee. The wetness of his hair made an instant cold, damp patch on her overalls.

“Nu-uh, I can’t work like this!“ she scolded gently. At his little groan, she eased his head back up with her hand. “C’mon, cutie, you can do it,“ she encouraged in a light, bubbly voice.

“Gem…“ Etho whined, immediately shrinking into himself in embarrassment.

“What?“ she challenged with a distinct scribble of her fingernail on his scalp. Was that a whimper? She was far too smug for her own good; what excellent ammunition this would be in future!

“You’re bein’... big,“ he argued weakly.

“You’re being little. If you’re gonna go baby on me I have to use my babysitting voice. Them's the rules,“ Gem reasoned with a shrug he couldn’t see. The brushing went on.

“I’m not…“ Etho belatedly mumbled into his knees. There was no way he could believe himself with how small his voice was.

“Sure you’re not,“ Gem humoured gently.

The rest of his treatment went by peacefully. In all honesty, it only had to take five minutes to get Etho’s hair smooth and totally knot-free. But Gem gave him what she now deemed to be the Etho Special; very slow and gentle brushing, with an extra ten minutes of tiny strokes with the Barbie brush along his hairline. That’s where most of his reactions came from, she learned.

The result of those reactions being she was now stuck with a baby in denial snuggling her leg like it was a stuffie. She allowed it until the end of the movie (wiping her couple of tears away in secret), then wiggled her foot a little against Etho’s hold when the credits rolled.

“Alright, lemme down you big softie.“ He did release her leg—albeit with a whine under his breath—and she easily slid back down to the seat beside him. “Your hair is super pretty now,“ she promised, opening her arms to invite him for a cuddle.

Etho was never one to turn down a cuddle, instantly scooching hip-to-hip with her and hugging her torso without a word. In his apparent shyness, he ducked his head down and hid his face against her shoulder. She giggled at his intense snuggliness and let her arms wrap around him protectively. With an overwhelm of adoration, she placed a kiss on his still-damp head. She got a whiff of the strawberry spray.

“Mm, and it smells pretty too! Happy with it?“

His hair tickled her neck a bit when he nodded. “Thank you,“ he said, and his voice was oh-so very tiny and light, a pitch higher than usual.

“Aww,“ Gem couldn’t stop herself from squealing slightly. “You’re so welcome, baby brother!“

Etho squeezed her tighter, likely to cope with being called a baby. Similar to squishing a stress toy. She decided she was fine being his stress toy if it meant she got to be the big sister again!

“Thank you for playing with me,“ Gem said earnestly, voice gentle to match Etho’s subdued state. “I really love it when you join in my games.“

“I know.“ Etho scrunched his fist in Gem’s baggy jumper. Then he added quietly: “Me too…“

There was no negotiation needed for them both to settle into the cuddle—just a quick selection of another Disney movie by Gem, this time Winnie-the-Pooh to match Etho’s younger headspace.

Likewise, there was no talking needed to fill the calm silence, no plans for more games, no need to call in Skizz or Impulse. Gem was perfectly capable of taking care of her ‘big brother’ all alone. Especially going by how easily she had him dropping off to sleep.

All it took was her hand back in his hair and before long Etho’s knees had slumped from his chest to Gem’s lap. Once she noticed his breathing had slowed and deepened considerably, Gem felt a swelling sense of pride in her chest. The rumours were true, she was powerful! Even in this small way.

Even if Etho might not have been able to feel it anymore, she found herself not wanting to stop the gentle caresses of his scalp. His hair was considerably softer now and satisfying to run her fingers through. Plus, the fact her touch alone had encouraged Etho into his rare babyspace pleased her and she honestly wanted it to last longer.

She was aware Etho probably needed to be this little far more often than he allowed himself, and took it upon herself to push him there whenever she could. It was pretty easy for the most part, but her usual tactics didn’t work every single time. She reckoned because he was such a stubborn worry-wart! Even then, when he did sink anywhere near the vicinity of Baby—as much as he would deny that fact after—it was usually Skizz or Impulse who swooped in and snatched her brother from her grasp. Gem always wanted to take care of him when he was so small, especially when she herself was little, but their caregivers acted like she was irresponsible or too hyper or something! Not like she could easily and happily come out of her littlespace to be in babysitting mode, especially for her beloved brother.

Now that she had baby Etho all to herself, dropping off as she cradled him in her arms, a deep sense of calm washed over her. She even felt her eyes get heavier by the minute, lulled into sleepiness by his breaths like the ocean tide. Inevitable as it was, her fingers slowed and stopped stroking with her tiredness. Her eyes fell shut heavily. She gently rested her head atop his, feeling him stir just a little.

“Shh, go back to sleep, baby,“ she hushed him with a comforting squeeze.

He snuggled further into her hold with a little noise in his throat.

“Big sister’s got you,“ she whispered, faintly hoping he wouldn’t argue. It was only met with a content sigh. She smiled in tired triumph, body going limp.

Etho’s chest rose as hers sank, and vice versa; their breath falling into a gentle tandem.

“I got you,“ Gem repeated, slurring with sleep.

Etho’s responding squeeze was the last thing she remembered before they both fell into a serene slumber.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Reblogs, comments, and asks are very appreciated! ♡

Also on AO3!

[roseandpeaches]

Girl Dad Gyu - Hair

No warnings, just pure fluff. Mingyu is a stay-at-home dad and an amazing girl dad.

----------------------‐---------------------

Mingyu sat on the floor, surrounded by an array of hair accessories - clips, bows, and hair ties. He looked at his daughter, who was sitting in front of him, babbling happily and grabbing at the colourful items.

"Alright, Minju, let's see what we can do with this hair of yours," he said with a smile, reaching for a hairbrush.

Minju was barely a year, but boy, could she grow a lion's mane. He wasn't sure if it was something she had inherited from his wife or him, but he knew he had to do something about it. "Just get her a haircut honey," the mother of his child said. He had told her how he didn't want to take it the easy way. He'll need to learn how to handle their daughter's hair in the future anyway - the mere thought of his chubby baby growing got him choked up, but he continued strategising his mission.

Mingyu had taken it upon himself to buy all the hair accessories for Minju. He had even picked up a nice baby friendly hairbrush though his wife had already gotten one when they were preparing for their daughter's arrival, 'All good things comes in two,' he had rationalised to himself. It's fine. Surely, his wife can't be mad for having one extra comb. Right?

As he brushed her soft hair, he realized that he had no idea what he was doing. He had never been the best at styling his own hair, let alone someone else's. But he was determined to figure it out for his daughter. He refuses to find an easy way out. Minju hated going to the salons. Every time the hairdresser approached her delicate head, she'd show off her great set of lungs. Who knew a cute chubby thing like her could let out a mighty cry, loud enough for everyone in Seoul to hear?

Mingyu started with a simple ponytail, using a pink hair tie to hold it in place. He stepped back to admire his work, only to see that the ponytail was lopsided and messy. He groaned, "The tutorial says to do it this way, Minju-ya, why isn't it working?" His daughter, who was oblivious of her struggling appa, was preoccupied with sorting out the colourful hair bands between her chubby legs. At least that's what Mingyu thought she was doing.

He sighed and tried again, this time with a clip. But as soon as he let go of her hair, the clip fell out, and Minju grabbed it, putting it straight in her mouth. Mingyu chuckled at the sight, realizing that this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. He gently pried the clip off her mouth, she had protested but she hadn't protested too hard. It didn't taste as good as it seemed anyway. It was hard even. Minju frowned, her bottom lips stuck out mirroring her appa.

Mingyu had tried different hairstyles - braids, pigtails, and even attempted a messy bun - but nothing seemed to be working. He had gone through millions of tutorials at this point. "Your eomma does it so effortlessly. Surely I can do it too, right, Minju?" Minju just blankly looked at her father. She shoved a bunch of butterfly clips to him instead.

After several failed attempts, Mingyu decided to take a break and sit with his daughter, who was now playing with the hairbrush. As he watched her, he realized that it didn't matter if her hair was styled perfectly or not. She was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He picked her up and held her close, smiling as she giggled and babbled in his ear. Mingyu knew that there were more important things than being good at styling hair, like being there for his daughter and making her feel loved and supported.

As he put Minju down to play, he looked at the mess of hair accessories and laughed. "Maybe we'll just stick with the messy look for now," he said to himself.

Mingyu may not have been a hairstyling expert, but he was a loving father who would do anything for his daughter - even if it meant embracing her messy hair.

Later that day, his wife got home and trimmed their daughter's hair herself. Her mother, being an angel and her salvation, Minju had complied easily. In fact, she had stayed put in Mingyu's hold. "Told you this would be easier," chided his wife. He could only pout.

Author's Note: I might start a series of shorts like this based on Mingyu being a girl dad. I have a few in my drafts just waiting for an edit.

[bokutizer]

more of dada's so pwetty pweaseeee 🥺

dada’s pwetty! pt.2 

Includes : Kuroo, Bokuto Summary : Just a few daughters being enchanted by their dadas' looks Tags : fem!reader, fluff, domestic bliss A/n : I don't like the way Bokuto's turned out but... anyways. pt. 1

Whether it is a conversation between you and KUROO, the talking pigs on the TV or any other source that can show your two year old daughter the vast ocean of vocabulary: she loves parroting words that catch her attention. A habit that she has only recently picked up and that makes her jump and dance around your house, repeating the newly learned word like a broken record tape.  Today's word is sponsored by the elderly lady next door who told the two year old that her polka dotted dress was very "pretty", when you two came back from a walk to the nearby park a few hours ago. Since then, you don't think there is a single thing in the household that she has not baptized as "pwetty!". Actually, there is something. Or rather someone. Someone who has been rotting in his home office all day long, writing and answering emails, and attending one video conference after the other because of an important upcoming sports event.

The creaking door of his office catches Kuroo's attention and he immediately feels a little wave of serotonin flow through him at the sight of his little girl. Her dark pigtails swing back and forth as she skips over to him with a bright smile on her face. "Hey there, sweetheart." Kuroo coos after having silenced his microphone, pulling her up on his lap. "Daddy's almost finished, and then we can have dinner togeth-" "Dada's pwetty!" her cheerful and loud voice interrupts him. Her dada is clearly taken aback, but lets out a breathy chuckle once he lets her words sink in. "Is he now?" he playfully taps her nose with his forefinger before readjusting her on his lap to press a wet smooch against her cheek. "Well, I think you are way, way, wayyy prettier than your dada." Both of them keep giggling and fooling around until they hear someone clear their throat.  "I think we should end this call here. I'll email you further details." Kuroo hears one of his colleagues speak, and when he dares to look over to his screen, he notices how somehow all of them are... smiling? Some of them even wave which your daughter happily reciprocates. And upon further inspection, Kuroo notices a little detail that makes him smile bashfully before ending the call.  He could swear he turned the microphone off?

Your daughter is a ray of sunshine, obviously taking after BOKUTO. She's a curious child, loves exploring the world especially when she knows that her parents are right behind her, supporting her through every teeny tiny step of hers. Now, when it comes to her looks she's a carbon copy of you, but her personality? The way she interacts with others, how she perceives people's feelings, how she handles her own emotions (she doesn't know how to handle them)- Yep, she's definitely Koutarou's offspring.

It's a quiet Sunday evening, with you enjoying a warm bath and your husband and daughter sitting on the floor and playing in her room. Various glittery hair clips and pink bows adorn the volleyball player’s peppered hair, and while he’s sure that he must look awfully ridiculous right now, the excited and self-sufficient grin that his daughter is offering him right now is definitely more than worth it. “And- it’s done!” she beams, finishing the look with a final butterfly-shaped clip to get her dad’s bangs out of his face. “Daddy, you look like a mermaid!” Bokuto gasps, his excited expression mirroring that of his daughter when he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window. “You’re so pretty!”  “No.” he smiles brightly, his chest feeling so full of love for this little bundle of joy. “You’re pretty.”

A giggle sounds through the room when he leans over to tickle her before hoisting her up in his arms. “No, you’re pretty.” your daughter counters, her voice a tad more serious than before.  “No, you.” Her nose scrunches irritatedly when her dad boops it, not minding how seriously she’s taking their discussion. “No, you!” And after countless back and forth, Bokuto’s eyes widen when she starts sniffling and her lower lip trembling.  “Okay, okay, daddy’s pretty! I’m pretty, yeah?” he embraces her tighter while panically looking around the room as if seeking your help, knowing very well that you’re probably still in the bathroom. “No crying, pumpkin, ‘kay?”  And while cradling her against him, lightly swaying from side to side, and watching his little girl’s drooping eyes, it’s obvious, and he has to admit also a little funny, that her distress was clearly caused by exhaustion. Though, he still believes that she’s the pretty one out of the both of them, even with her puffy eyes and snot running out of her nose, staining his shirt. 

[fireyfobbitmedicine]

MGA wants to make Rainbow High a fantasy series now, fine.

But if they want me to give a rats ass they def gotta put in some effort for the fits cuz these are downright VILE

So here are my ideas for the main girls Rainbow World (needs a better name) looks

Note: this was all highly inspired by Fairytopia

Sunny

Sunny would be thriving in a fantasy land so she would look absolutely whimsical. I got the idea for flowers from her Fantastic Fashion dress and had the idea of her hair having tons of flowers in it (and also her having a more textured hairstyle)

Jade

I imagine this outfit for Jade but with leaves (cuz butterflies are Poppy's thing). Even in a fantasy world she would look delightfully edgy (like a fairy living in the Mad Max world).

Ruby

I was originally gonna give her a ladybug motif until I remembered that fire kinda was a thing for her and so went with this. She would have a flame bustier with a skirt that looks burnt up and Ruby's jewelry would also feature dragons in it for more of a fantastical vibe (she would also have her beach hair cuz I like the look)

Amaya

Skyler

Guess what inspired this look? I imagine Amaya's hair upgrading from white to silver and the rainbow in it becoming pastel and tied into low pigtails (I also saw someone say that Amaya's hair should've changed for every look a la Ramona Flowers and I agree). She would wear a rainbow gingham dress with a big flouncy skirt and a corset paired with rhinestone heels and the look becomes even sweeter with a locket choker and basket purse (fun fact: I was originally gonna style Bella with this look before realizing it would suit Amaya way better)

Skyler ofc keeps her denim even in a fantasy land. Originally I was gonna double dip and give her a denim butterfly top until I found the angel wing one which suited her perfectly (her skirt would also feature it too). I also remembered one of Skyler's motifs being moons and so incorporated that into her necklace, earrings, and hair clips with even some stars too. Her purse would also be a crescent moon with a constellation pattern on it. Skyler would also wear a long ruffled jacket with a skinny scarf and wear some ankle length boots (she's giving Bloom from Winx Club)

Violet

She's a lot more contemporary compared to everyone else (think like Bratz Fashion Pixies) and because of her Jr High look I just felt like she needed to look like an early 00's Disney Channel character. I also double dipped and gave her a star motif. She would wear those purple pants and ruffle belt with a star pattern on the legs with a long sleeve shirt with ruffles on the wrists with a tank top layered over it along with a fur trimmed jacket. She would also have a wacky Y2K hairstyle.

Bella

After I gave Amaya her original look I thought of giving her a motif like I did for Sunny, Jade, and Ruby + I was originally gonna give a pearl motif to Violet and so I went with that for Bella. I imagine her in a velvet outfit adorned with pearls with pantyhose boots in the same color and fabric studded with pearls and pearls chains on them. Her jewelry ofc features lots of pearls with even her headband being all pearls.

Poppy

Poppy has the best motif for a fantasy world so I went heavy into that. I imagine Poppy would have her hair pulled back with a big butterfly claw clip that could be seen even from the back and I wanted her whole outfit to give fairy. She would wear tons of butterfly bracelets all over her arms and have a butterfly ring on each hand with her heels also doing the same. I wanted her to have a mini skirt with a long piece on it to flow whenever she moved with a butterfly chain belt and ofc she deserved a butterfly top so I wanted her to have the most detailed one I could find (giving fairy warrior). Her jewelry would ofc feature tons of butterflies and I found the perfect purse for her (yes it's also a butterfly).

[bruisedboys]

malll i’m thinking about girl dad! sej w the sweetest little girl and he’s playing dress up with her w butterfly clips in his hair and a tiara and he also learns how to care for longer curly hair bc his hairs always been on the shorter side <3

— ivy / @inkluvs

oh my gosh yes!!!! sejanus has such girl dad vibes I can’t explain it he just exudes girldad <3 I’m thinking he’s a stay at home dad while you go to work, either that or you take turns <3 but one day you come home from work and your daughter has absolutely glammed out her dad, pink clips in his curly hair and a tiny tiara that’s definitely way too small for him jammed on his head. and bows tied all over his clothes omg 😭 and she’s in her princess dress and they’re having so much fun and you just stop in the doorway and swoon!!!! of course as soon as your girl spots you she wants you to dress up too, but not before you cover both of them with kisses ‘cause you missed them so much <333

and omg him doing her hair!! he definitely asks for advice from his ma and then goes and buys all the right products and it’s just so so cute watching him be so dedicated to his little girl <3 he’ll learn all sorts of hairstyles and let her pick which one she wants in the morning. “do you want braids or pigtails today, bub?” and he puts little ribbons or butterfly clips in too <3 ugh I’m melting

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— BRO, ASHLEY’S HERE

SUMMARY : dean goes all the way to make this slumber party magical, especially for his kids.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : bruce, wanda, and mavis again as oc children, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : angst, fluff, swearing, lots of teasing from little kids, kissing

WORD COUNT : 1.2K

A/N : except the reader’s name is definitely not ashley, it’s just a song by attack attack! that has nothing to do with the story, but it’s still a good song. I tried to copy WandaVision when I wrote this, that’s why one of the kids is named after her. and then I just liked Mavis when I was looking up random names online. I was in my feels, I don’t remember when I wrote this, lmao. x

Dean looked at Wanda and Mavis lovingly. Mavis adorably tried to put her colourful butterfly hair clips in his hair. It was longer now, so it wasn’t too hard, but he could tell that Mavis was trying to be gentle when the clips would snap shut between his locks of hair. Some butterfly clips were glittery, some were clear, others were simply different colours and she even had some in her own hair, in the pigtails Dean did an amazing job on. 

Wanda giggled as she traced Dean’s lips with some of Y/N’ lip tint, careful not to overstrain his mouth or spill some of it on his and Y/N’ bed. Wanda carefully closed the bottle and grabbed some eyeshadow Y/N bought for them to play around with.

Meanwhile, Bruce was laughing at Dean while wearing his Batman pyjamas, insisting on being named Bruce Wayne as Dean had planned. Bruce was still participating by choosing the colours for the eyeshadow Wanda wanted to apply. Dean laughed with him too, letting Mavis’ baby fingers brush through his hair and put his honey hair into the smallest pigtails that almost matched hers. 

“You’re so pretty, daddy,” Mavis told him happily, finished with her work. 

“Thanks, honey,” Dean chuckled. Mavis pressed a sloppy kiss on his beard before she sat back on her legs and watched Wanda try her best in blending the lavender and baby blue eyeshadow in his eyelids. She blew softly on some of the extra dust just as Sam and Y/N’ voices echoed through the hallway of the bunker. Bruce was careful not to mess up Wanda as he got up excitedly to greet his mother and uncle.

“Hey, there Bee,” Y/N exclaimed happily. He patiently waited to hug her and instead offered to help her with the massive amount of snacks in her arms. “Thanks, sweetie,” she murmured, handing him a few bags of food as Sam laughed with amusement when he saw Dean.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, his face content despite his tone of voice.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Y/N giggled, she dumped the snacks on the bed and Sam placed the bottled drinks on Dean’s empty desk. Bruce copied Y/N and let the snacks fall onto the bed unceremoniously. 

“I know, I look sexy, you wanna marry me again,” he flirted, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She smiled and rolled her eyes, Wanda and Mavis both scrambled towards the snacks with Bruce to choose their favourites. Sam started to load the Disney+ app on the television as Y/N kissed Dean’s tinted lips. 

“You look lovely,” she whispered against his lips. Her thumb swiped across his freckled cheekbone, and she smiled at him lovingly, a look he easily returned when he took her wrist and kissed it gently.

“I look ridiculous,” he whispered back. He was still grateful and flattered by her words, like always, and she mimicked the kiss he placed on her wrist. She took his own hand and kissed his wrist softly, knowing how much he loved the tenderness of her affection. 

“You look like the most incredible father in the entire universe,” she murmured against his sunny and freckled skin. He knew he couldn’t argue with that and he smiled, watching her pull away, dazed and enchanted. She twirled his tiny pigtail with her finger and laughed, watching Sam, Mavis, Wanda, and Bruce picking their snacks and drinks, leaving her and Dean to choose last. 

Since it was the winter holiday and the kids had two weeks off, Dean and Y/N compromised to let the kids stay awake a bit late, the most they could do is midnight. It was seven twenty-five, so there was plenty of time to get the Marvel movie marathon going for the rest of the two weeks at night. They’d start in order, with Captain America: The First Avenger which was PG-13 anyway, safe for the kids. Not that they were safe from Dean’s potty mouth. 

Eileen was busy, so Sam spent his time with his nieces and nephew without her. Y/N was happy for them, especially now that they've won. Y/N remembered helping Jack taking the variants of Sam and Dean that were in Rio back to their universe and saving Cas from the Empty, but he wasn't quite ready to face his family. Dean was desperate for his best friend. Y/N tried making him understand that Cas needed some time and he’d make his way back to them. 

Sometimes Dean was happily caught up in the fact that they were married or pregnant, but sometimes losing the man he considered his brother and best friend was too much. Cas saved him from Hell, Cas was his only best friend. Dean didn’t have one like him before, in all his life, never this deep, this real. Cas was kind to him and he loved Dean, just because. Just like Y/N. Just like Sam. Dean loved him. 

Sam squeezed himself into a blue bean bag, massive enough to hold him and Bruce copied him, plopping down on the black one right next to him. He sunk into it, and shimmied playfully before relaxing, and Y/N smiled. She turned off the lights, letting Sam control the settings on the television. Wanda and Mavis laid down on their stomachs at the foot of the bed and Dean went back to where he was, settled against the pillows. She joined him, smiling affectionately, completely amused as he rubbed off some of the makeup.

All of them remained warm in their pyjamas, happily resting in Dean's darkened room, the light of Marvel’s intro illuminating the room and they all felt content. Even Dean, who’d been working on getting used to everything, freedom from all the strings that had controlled him his whole life like a puppet. With Y/N, his kids, Sam and Eileen, it was easier, it was amazing, like a dream. A dream he didn’t doubt anymore. For the first time, he wasn’t afraid, he wasn't worried or stressed, hurt or frustrated.

He looked around the room, watching Sam toast his Coke with Bruce’s Sprite, a little smile grew on his face. His eyes trailed to Wanda and Mavis who giggled quietly, giddy, sharing their snacks and asking if they liked it. His eyes watered because it was real and it was his. He gazed over at Y/N, watching her excited eyes analyse every part of the scene where Red Skull was trying to get the Tesseract. A block of Cadbury chocolate pressed against her lips, invested more in the movie than her melting snack, he wiped his eyes subtly to admire the coruscating rings on her finger, the endless and eternal promise of their love. 

She turned to look at him, but he didn’t look away, even though he was crying. And she seemed to know exactly why. Because she gazed around the room quickly, looking for what had stirred these feelings in him, and then she looked back at him before quietly wrapping her arms around him, whispering loving words against his neck until he pulled away. 

He kissed her. To him, it was a checkpoint, an affirmation that no one was going anywhere, that he was safe, that they were all safe. Her love was as endless as the universe. He understood it now, how it grew, how it never ended, how ancient and forever it was, and he adored her for it.

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