#i still dream about nikuman

[call-sign-shark]

Hi Shark. I was wondering if I could be cheeky and request something from you. I was wondering if you could release a headcanon for Heaven with a list of fun facts about her (i.e. fave food, color, animal, vacation spot, book, song, drink...if she went to university what d'you think she'd study that kind of thing). She's just so interesting that I'd like to know more about her. Also, I read a fic she was mentioned in the other day and I thought you'd be interested. It was just a mention but I thought it was cool. Also, I can't wait for The woods whisper part 2. I'm on edge.

Hi sweet anon, thank you so much for your wonderful ask! As for the fic, please do send me the link. I probably have it in my reading list if the mutual has tagged me but I reckon I need to catch up with a lot of things. I've been feeling quite tired lately and I’m starting a new job as a bartender so it's quite tiring. I’m delighted you find the murderous angel interesting so here we go. 🖤

𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝐿𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝒮𝒽𝑒𝓁𝒷𝓎 headcanons

𝒫𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈

♢ Her favorite animals are hyenas. She dreams about owning one?? She’s weird asf I know.

♢ I personally imagine her voice like the singer of Sohodolls (by the way, this song from the group is her main theme song)

♢ Surprisingly enough her favorite color is not white, but red and gold.

♢ She's multilingual and speaks: French, Russian, German, and English all fluently.

♢ She's 25 at the beginning of HYE, even if throughout her life people struggle to give her an age since she has this very woman-child aspect.

♢ Her style is quite modern for the era. When she doesn’t wear elegant and revealing dresses with gold jewels, capes or fur coats, she loves stealing one of Arthur’s shirts and tuck it in her skirt. Similarly, he had to buy a second coat ‘cause she had stolen his. Most of the time she either dresses like a goddess or a forest nymph.

♢ She loves fun fairs and circuses! When they started flirting together and meeting at church every night, Arthur sometimes brought her candied apples.

♢ She might be an enchanting singer and she might love music but she's awful at playing an instrument. She tried piano, guitar, harp, and violin but she was terrible at all of them.

♢ She has empathy issues she hides quite well. Now, I’m not saying she has 0 Empathy but she lacks of it most of the time except with Arthur or on a few occasions. It leads her to be cold and sardonic with people outside of her private circle when she doesn’t “mask”.

♢ Did someone said “lemon pie”? She’d kill for lemon pies. It’s her favorite dessert of all time.

♢ Her Birthday is the 22 January.

♢ She's fond of myths, legends, and fairy tales. If she had to pick one tale and one myth she would go for the Red Little Riding Hood and the Beast of Gevaudan. But her favorite story is Alice’s Adventures.

♢ She's a "mama bear", which means she doesn't lose her temper easily despite being gifted with an ability for extreme violence but touch her husband, kids or family and she'll go f e r a l.

♢ She talked several times with Linda at church, unknowing Heaven was already fucking her husband (and she enjoyed it). I know, that's a dick move.

𝑀𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃 𝒜𝒰

*most of the hc above still works for her modern!self

♢ Her favorite book is The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris.

♢ She works as an exotic pole dancer and aerial performer. Considering this, she also masters aerial hoop, silks, and Chinese pole.

♢ She is currently applying to study forensic medicine after several years of gaps.

♢ She has spent years locked up in a mental institute, in the dangerous patients ward.

♢ Her favorite food is Japanese Udon soup with gyoza and Nikuman as side dishes.

♢ She loves listening to brutal music, such as metal, hard rock, or alternative trash/bimbo music even if her playlist is actually quite varied. You can go from Rammstein and Angerfist to Britney Spears and Lana Del Rey.

♢ She smokes weed.

♢ If she had to choose a drink it would be red wine for alcohol and pumpkin spice latte for sweet. But in truth, she’s that annoying gym girl so she mostly drinks water and homemade protein smoothies. She also loves boba milk teas.

♢ She's a huge fan of horror movies and games (especially FNAF), with a fascination for cannibalism. With that being said, she organizes the best girl nights ever, especially during Halloween.

Heaven is reader in the Arthur Shelby x you series Heaven in Your Eyes. Why don't you join the ride? We have drama, sex and gore.

[izzyspussy]

nobody tagged me this time, but it's a convenient way to Start, so. get to know me tag for the "demon"/superhero hero.

Who: Kenshin "Ken" Mechado (he/him) [family name might change]

Relationship Status: Single [ominously: for now...]

Favorite Color: Red [tee hee]

Favorite Food: Surf & Turf

Song stuck in his head: Mama Said Knock You Out by LL Cool J

Last thing he Googled: Also doesn't use Google specifically, but the last thing he looked up was economic ethics theory. On incognito mode lmfao.

Time: 1:03AM. He has to be at his soul crushing day job in seven hours.

Dream Trip: Somewhere he absolutely CANNOT be reached.

Last thing he read: An email from the heroing company reprimanding him for the way he worded a statement to first-responding press. [I will Free Him...]

Last thing he enjoyed reading: Ancillary Mercy by Ann Leckie [spoilers at link, it's the last book of a series]

Favorite thing to cook/bake: He doesn't actually do any of the cooking really, but he loves to "help" his mom make nikuman.

Favorite craft: Sewing his own clothes

Most niche dislike: [answer pending]

Opinion on circuses: Negative, but only because he himself often feels like a disreputably owned circus animal. Once he's a terrorist free, he'll probably have a much more balanced opinion with nuance about ethical entertainment consumption etc etc.

Sense of direction: Vaguely unnecessary? My idea of his powers at the moment is still very nebulous, but he can go places by wanting to be there so he doesn't particularly need to know where he's going most of the time. Otherwise below average, I guess, since he doesn't use it regularly.

i tag @kyofsonder @silvertalonwritblr @cohldhands and @marigoldispeculiar to do this get to know me tag for an OC

[wanou-dorm]

HSA Student porfile - Maroba Harudora

Name: Maroba Harudora

Based on: Magalor

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿:Male (He/him)

𝗔𝗴𝗲: 18

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆: October 24

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻: Scorpio 

𝗛𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁:  154  cm/ 5’1 

𝗘𝘆𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿: Blue

𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿: platinum blonde with Blue streaks 

.

𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦

𝗗𝗼𝗿𝗺: Dreamy Star by @twsted-princess​

𝗦𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿: Second

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀: 2-A 

𝗢𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: Student

𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯: Drama club( This  makes too much sense Considering Magolor )

𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝗷𝗲𝗰𝘁: Elemental Arts , Marketing ,

Homeland: Planet Halbrax / Scalding Sands

Sexuality: Pansexual

.

.

𝗙𝗨𝗡 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦:

𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱: Left

𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱:  Nikuman( Steamed Pork Buns) , Apples 

𝗟𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱: Circus Peanuts 

Likes: Pranks, Schemes , Money! , Amusement parks, Carnivals , Books 

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀: …Ronnie(he can See through you tricks boy ) , Rachel (Rival) ,  Getting Scammed , Crowns .

𝗛𝗼𝗯𝗯𝘆: Fucking with People , Theater , Drawing ,cooking

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀: Charisma, Persuasion , Acting , Magic, Making profits, Pranks, R/Petty Revenge 

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬:

On The Surface , Maroba seems to be Shy and studious and Polite , Young Man  . However While he Is studious he Definitely isn’t Shy polar opposite his rather Sociable and friend .Maroba dose not know what cause his Spike in popularity though He is Rather Charismatic and likes making Big impression , Teasing people and Showing off . However  Maroba is much more Logically inclined in other words in other words

“ While I don’t Believe in Luck ,I make a Profit from Poisenalle when They need Good luck charms and since Rachel is gone I can expand My “fairly”  price Ventures .~”

, He Also Kind of A little Bastard he has knack of being able to persuade people into doing things for him without  causing any suspicion . Which way Ronnie is On his Fuck off List , Maroba has Seen Every Tactic Of  his,cause Maroba has Them Used on people . Maroba Hopes to See the Day Ronnie gets himself in Trouble for it. 

Maroba dose like Joke about doing” Evil” Schemes even making Only for that Scheme To be a small bit of Mischief.

Maroba is a Rather Prodigious Mage so if You Try and Attack him he’s probably going to summon a Portal To Teleport you away.

Unique Magic 

Under My Control 

 

A rather Powerful Unique Magic That Maroba has access to he assigns a Specific Phrase for Everyone for Activation All he has to is Speak it the Person will Fall limp and He can Make thier Body Do what He Wants… The Draw back is the Person is Still Conscious and These Phrases  are Ridiculous sounding 

so For example Maroba just doesn’t say Pancakes and Rubina falls on her Face (this Definitely did not actually happen. )

By the Way Rubina and Flynn’s Phrases Are Burgertime and Magically Delicious Pancakes

Trivia

Maroba  Is Left handed cause Magalor  is often Depicted as Primarily left handed 

Maroba Popularity is Mainly due to Fact that Magolor has Been mentioned or Appeared in. Most games  after Return to Dreamland

Maroba  is mainly Popular cause his Cute and Polite , He  dosent Mind cause that earns more Business .

Maroba Kinda Is unaware about his Cuteness As Everyone one his Planet would be considered “cute” infact on Halbrax he was considered Handsome . 

Those Things on his Head are Ears Even though they look more like horns

Apparently He know a Zane Svärdstav  (Zan Partizanne)  and Often Teases him calling Sauerkraut 

Apparently  This his Revenge For Being called a Blueberry 

This is also Reference to When The Mage Sisters were announced as Dream friends Magolor called Zan Partizanne   parmesan cheese". This was his payback to Zan Partizanne calling him an Egg in a previous Twitter post.

He Apparently doesn’t like Crowns on Peoples Head and On a Visit around the Dorms of NRC Requested Riddle and Vil to Take thiers off . 

He Freezes When a Crown is Placed  on his Head,it’s unknown why But he States “he never wants to Be Like that again .

He Lives in Scalding Sands cause it Feels like Home . 

If He’s Mad He sounds rather Scary 

Maroba Also Like being In Villian Roles but He says He likes also likes playing Turncoats and Double Agents.

Tends to Hang Around Sento a lot .

Tends to Congratulate people Using Bravo and Had a large Vocabulary

He’s Apparently good at Driving Large Machine 

he doesn’t like to admit that his Kinda Gluttonus

Gabrielle reminds him the Dragons like creature he used to see on his homeplanet.

Voice Claim 

Ramura Amemura( Yes His voice Sounds that deep when his Mad or irritated but Regular Ramura is his Actual voice )

Theme Songs

(Normal)

Magalor the Distance Traveler

Under My Control

Crowned

Juno ver

[oakantony]

@iaal​: I’m happy to share more. a continuation of these posts about my horrible, very bad, no good time in the JET program.

lol, we’re not even through my first week on the job. back at my regular campus, I get an email from another JET participant in my town. and I find out...he’s my neighbor. he lives in one of the buildings across the street from my apartment and he was supposed to have come over my first night with a prefecture care package (that included necessities like laundry detergent, soap, shampoo, and some snacks), but he forgot about it until just now. he wanted to know if I had time to meet up tonight to get it?

yes. yes, oh my god, yes. he was the only other foreigner I’d seen since breaking off with my supervisor that weekend, and the opportunity to speak English and ASK QUESTIONS and figure out WTF was going on in my placement?!?! I was OVER THE MOON. I also had NO idea there was another JET in my neighborhood! GAME CHANGER. I replied to his email really enthusiastically and he replied that we should meet, on our bikes, at this particular street corner, at 6pm. we’d bike to the arcade! it’ll be fun!

I left school that day super excited. a prefecture care package? people DO care! I worked FOR the prefecture, so the higher ups had clearly arranged it so I’d have a comfortable start. or TRIED to, anyway. and there was an ARCADE?! I didn’t realize our little town even had one.

I got to the street corner where we are meant to meet and am immediately struck with anxiety. it’s a BUSY corner, right on a highway, and I’m basically a hazard, sitting on the sidewalk with my bike, as drivers are constantly slowing down to look at the redheaded american sitting in the rain, and people are honking, and it was rush hour, and there was high key some sort of zoo effect happening. I checked my ipod clock. 6:05. ok. ok ok ok.

still I waited. 6:20. No sign. I’m 100% confident I got the street corner correct; it’s very identifiable (and not far from our apartments). 6:30. I still don’t have a phone, nor internet, and I’m worried. should I leave? go home?

6:40. I’m getting mad at this point. not necessarily at the guy. like, of course this went wrong. EVERYTHING goes wrong. I decided I’m gonna hold out until 7. because maybe he meant 7 and I’m an idiot. 7pm rolls around. and he’s not there. I turn around to bike home and I see him pedaling up the street. he waves at me, says my name to confirm, and then introduces himself. “you’re a little late,” I said, checking my ipod. it’s 7:03. 

“oh, yeah, I fell asleep when I got home from work. haha. anyway, the arcade is this way!”

“do they have food?” I was down to my last pennies but I was starving tbh.

“I think they have snacks. you didn’t eat before coming here? you should probably start planning this stuff better. that’d be my first piece of advice as a JET veteran. plan your days out.” when I say his tone was condescending... he was aghast I’d be so stupid.

and, holy shit, man, I kinda figured I’d be home by 7:30 if we met at 6! but this is my first time meeting this guy and I didn’t want to ruin a relationship with what was potentially my only ally. in retrospect, that was dumb as hell. this guy was less than worth my time, but desperate times, you know?

he led the way to the arcade and it’s not an arcade. it’s. a. pachinko parlor. pachinko is a type of reaaaally popular gambling in japan and is mostly frequented by middle aged or older japanese curmudgeons. and when I tell you these old men were unhappy to have some random young american girl appear in their space... every single eye turned to me and followed me as he led me to the bar. i perused the menu for a second and realized, no, they don’t have snacks. they have drinks and cigarettes. so I passed. he then explained that I can’t pass; you have to buy a drink to hang out in the parlor. 

“ok, I’m gonna go,” I said. I’m hungry. I’m tired. I’m stressed; I’d been stared down for hours at this point, between that busy street corner and the regulars inside this “arcade.” I ask if I can just take the care package and go.

“oh, I forgot the care package,” he said. why did he have an enormous, heavy-looking backpack then? who knows. “you can come by later tonight and get it from my apartment. it’s This Number at This Building.”

I...ok. whatever dude. he seriously wanted me to find his place on my own? he was going to stay there for however long and expected me to just... show up at his convenience, at his apartment, and collect the items that belonged to me.

I left him there with his cigarette and whiskey neat and had the very distinct impression this guy thought I was an uppity buzzkill and a “typical culture shocked gaijin unprepared for japan.”

I never bothered to pick up my package. I’d already purchased myself essentials anyway. The highlight of my night: I stopped by the conbini on my way home and got a nikuman. it was the most delicious $1 meal I’d ever had.

[puddingcatbeans]

title: come sundown, say you’ll remember my name fandom: haikyuu!!         pairing: bokuaka summary:  "You're lost, aren't you? Well, it doesn't matter now. Once night falls, Fukurodani won't let you leave." ... a spirited away au featuring lost children, forgotten names, soft fluttering of wings, and the magic that occurs in between the rise and fall of the sun.

originally for the hq!! ghibli zine project, which will unfortunately not be going through as planned. please check out all the beautiful works @hq-ghibli-zine!!

this fic is a collaboration with the amazing @literarymerritt, whose artworks really brought magic into these soft owl kids. please check out her works!!

read on ao3

Never go into the forest at sundown. Sundown is when children are spirited away, your father says.

But your father never told you about the pretty lights in this little ghost town hidden between the thick trees, how mesmerizing it is when the spirits rise from the corners of every shadow and lanterns float along behind them like escorts. Youkai, your mind whispers.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

A pair of gold eyes stare down from the trees. The leaves rustle. There’s a glimpse of brown-speckled wings diving down and then you’re raising your arm with a cry, but it’s strange, like your arm is much too light—almost translucent. You gasp.

“You’re lost, aren’t you? Well, it doesn’t matter now. Once night falls, Fukurodani won’t let you leave.”

A boy stands before you, dressed in a simple jinbei, hair a forest of silver and black, an echo of a horned owl. He steps forwards, holding something in his hand. “Here, eat this.”

You shake your head, staring with increasing panic at your arms. They’re almost completely see-through by now.

“You have to eat something from this world, or you’ll disappear.”

He presses something soft against your lips until your mouth reluctantly opens. The berries are sour, but when you glance back down at your arms, they’re solid once more.

“You can’t stay here. Come on, Keiji.”

Before you know it, the boy is pulling you by the hand through the trees, following the trail of lights and wispy flames, dodging between the otherworldly beings. His hand fits around your own just right. You put one foot in front of the other, stumbling blindly with only the somehow familiar warmth of the other boy’s hand to guide you.

When you re-emerge back onto the path, there’s a wide, well-lit bridge, faded paint adorning the aging wood. You shrink back from the mass of spirits crossing the stream. In the distance, what looks like a castle looms through the mist, regal red walls and crafted roofs decorated with lanterns and gargoyles that have sprung to life.

The boy halts abruptly, and you run into his back. “Hold your breath as we cross the bridge, okay?”

“Why?”

“Or else they’ll know you’re human.” When you hesitate, the boy squeezes your hand. “Trust me, I know everything about Fukurodani. You could say I’m like the captain here!”

You’re still skeptical, but you let him lead you forwards. You cross the bridge without trouble, until a short-eared owl swoops in from above. Startled, a sharp breath escapes you.

“Bokuto-sama, you’re back! Who’s with y—Human?”

“Sorry, Komiyan.” Without breaking stride, the boy waves an arm, and the owl floats away gently, frozen in a bubble. Bokuto doesn’t stop until you’re both deep within the gardens.

“Keiji, listen. I need to go, but you have to find Kuroo. Ask him for a job. You’ll be safe then at least.”

“Kuroo?”

“Head to the top floor. You’ll know him when you see him.”

Bokuto pauses only long enough to squeeze your hand once more, then you are alone. Only when the clamour of voices calling out “Bokuto-sama!” reach your ears do you remember the danger you’re in. As you slip through the shoji overlooking the garden, there’s a fleeting thought on how Bokuto knows your name, or how those eyes seem to resonate with something in your chest, but soon you’re overwhelmed by the flurry of activity happening inside the castle.

Elegant screen walls and the beautifully crafted murals lining them strike you speechless. There are youkai wandering around in various states of undress, while servants in red run around with extra futons and trays of food in hand. Your eyes widen at the sight of horns and tails and glowing eyes blending in with the smaller, human-looking features. A fantastic vision right out of your strangest dreams.

Sniffing noses jolt you into action. You manage to squeeze into an elevator before anyone locates the source of that human stench, but a large beast shuffles in as the doors close. It doesn’t look at you, but you try your hardest to hold your breath anyway.

When the elevator dings, you’re first to stumble out, gasping. The youkai only blinks slowly. Hesitantly, you bow. The youkai bows back as the door closes.

Turning, you find yourself in front of an elaborately ornamented door. There are cats and owls, frozen in mid-scream and mid-flight, staring you down as you approach. Taking a deep breath, you enter.

“Ohoho,” a voice booms, “what do we have here?”

You duck as a shadow leaps down from overhead. A giant... black cat. Its golden eyes—dark and calculative unlike Bokuto’s bright magnetic ones—study you with a sharpness that makes you feel much, much smaller than you are. Instinctively, you straighten, staring back.

The cat cocks its head. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, human child?”

You swallow, but you don’t dare look away. “I’m here to ask for a job.”

“And why should I give you one?”

You don’t know the answer to that, so you remain silent.

“This place isn’t safe for you, human child. Go home.”

“I’m told to ask for a job from you, Kuroo-san. Please.”

The cat’s eyes narrow. “Told? By whom?”

Before you can answer, a loud crash sounds from the next room. The cat sighs. “Stay here.” It bounds away and disappears behind the red tapestries.

A breeze from the open windows raise goosebumps along your bare arms. You’re just peering into the empty fireplace when a door slams open and a tall masculine figure with hair messier than yours strolls in, looking rather harassed.

“Alright. You win, you get a job,” it says, striding over to the desk in the middle of the room and throwing papers around.

You blink. “Kuroo-san?”

Sharp gold eyes flick up, and it spares you a quick smirk. “Aren’t you a smart boy? What’s your name?”

“Keiji.”

Kuroo throws its head back and laughs. The sound sends shivers down your spine even as it seems to chase away the shadows. “Let me tell you something, boy. Names have power. You shouldn’t give yours away so freely.” A scroll floats in front of you along with an elegant brush dipped in ink. “Sign here. You’ll be granted safety in this bathhouse, but you’ll have to earn your name back.

“From now on, you’ll be known as... Kei.”

Before you can protest, Kuroo whistles loudly. “Bo! Show this fine young lad where to go.”

You recognize the surprisingly light footsteps, as if the boy is about to take flight any moment, and something like relief seeps into your bones. Bokuto doesn’t look at you, only beckons with one hand and begins to lead the way out of the room. Shrewd gold eyes follow you.

Only after you’re safely within the elevator do you risk speaking up. “Bokuto—”

“Bokuto-sama.” Bokuto stares straight ahead, face blank and standing too still.

Confused and a little hurt, you face forwards, too. You twist your fingers together to hide your shaking. The silence only makes the stinging behind your eyes hurt more.

When the elevator dings, Bokuto suddenly reaches over and grabs your hand, squeezing lightly.

“Promise me—don’t forget.”

He lets go just as the doors open, and you’re introduced as Kei, Kuroo’s new hire, don’t eat him or else. And then Bokuto is gone again.

You’re assigned to follow Konoha, who takes one look at you and sighs long enough for you to understand that despite appearances, Konoha isn’t human. Still, he’s nice enough to show you around the bathhouse, explaining how to work the baths and how to greet the guests.

Konoha sends you on another run for the bathwater cards. You’ve gotten used to weaving around the bustling corridors. You’ve lost count of how many days have passed, but the comments on your mortal stink have faded. The warmth in your palm from where Bokuto held your hand has also faded. You haven’t seen him since, and somehow that unsettles you more than the muted homesickness under your tongue.

Hurrying back with a hard-won card in your hand, a shadow flickers out the corner of your eye. A black shapeless mass hovers just outside the shoji screens, blending in with the rain, only a painted white mask indicating it’s real. You glance around, but the hallway is for once empty.

Warily, you approach. “Okyaku-sama,” you say, sliding the screens open. “Please come in. You’ll catch a cold.” You’re not really sure if youkai can catch colds, but Konoha has ingrained the habit of hospitality in you by now.

The shadow doesn’t move, so you bow slightly and excuse yourself. If you’re too slow, Konoha will steal all your onigiri for dinner.

“Why are you here, Kei?” Konoha asks one night, as you sit on the balcony outside of the workers’ rooms. He managed to sneak some nikuman from the kitchens. You nibble at yours, pretending you’re tasting the juiciness of the meat instead of bitter helplessness.

“I got lost.”

Konoha snorts. “Figures. You human brats are dumber than kappas. It’s a wonder Fukurodani let you in.”

Breaking off a piece of the bun, you watch it fall towards the sparkling waters below until you can’t see it anymore. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

“Yeah, yeah. But you’re doing a good job keeping up so far. Chin up, kid.” Konoha pats you on the shoulder before stretching and heading off to bed. Someone clicks off the lamps, leaving the moonlight to keep you company.

Somewhere above you, an owl hoots.

You wake to something poking your cheek. Arms flailing, you’re ready to scream before familiar gold eyes fill your sight.

“Shh,” Bokuto whispers. “Come with me.”

Movements sluggish, you tug on your hippari as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. Bokuto’s hair is down, making him look much younger, but his movements are no less graceful. You’re barely aware of the snores behind the paper screens as you tiptoe your way up the stairs, avoiding all the creaky parts.

Bokuto’s hand is around yours again, and the lump in your throat has receded, just a little.

You stop down a long corridor on a floor you’ve never been before. Bokuto pushes open the wooden door. Wind instantly brushes past, ruffling your curls. Outside, there’s a small balcony, then more stairs, but the rickety kind that no one raised in the human world of physics would trust, winding up and out of sight. Lazy streaks of sunlit pink brushes through vast expanses of green upon green stretching out from under your feet into the distance. The balconies where you sleep only ever faced the water.

Bokuto sweeps his arms out wide. “This is the Forest of Owls! It’s full of ancient magic, that’s why humans stay far away from it, but it’s breathtaking isn’t it?”

“Is that your home?”

“Yes! It’s absolutely beautiful, but scary, too, I guess. But it’s home.”

“How come you’re here and not there, then?”

A frown crosses Bokuto’s face. “I’m bound by contract to serve Kuroo. A favour for saving someone I shouldn’t have...” Gold eyes turn thoughtful as they land on you. “But it’s fine. Kuroo’s not that bad. They’re just doing their jobs, keeping the bridge open for spirits to enter Fukurodani.” Bokuto points to the left, and you follow his gaze past the rolling hills. “Beyond there is your home.”

“Home,” you whisper, and then your eyes are burning but you don’t know why. “My home?”

A hand finds yours, and you squeeze it without thinking. Bokuto looks at you with something spelling melancholy on his face. He suddenly moves forwards and knocks your foreheads together, ignoring your alarmed yelp.

“Shh. Do you remember?”

Gold eyes bore into yours, and you think starlight. warmth. His hair tickles your skin, and you think wings. Your eyes widen.

“My name is Keiji,” spills out of your mouth, and a smile blooms on Bokuto’s face. He leans back, but you hold fast to his hand. “How did you do that? How did I forget? How did you remember?”

“I don’t know.” He tilts his head, glancing towards the forest. “Kuroo says Fukurodani claims your name when you stay, but...” He looks back at you. “I remember yours.”

“We’ve met before.” Something flutters at the edges of your memory, like feathers and the feeling of leaves brushing your hair.

“It’s okay.” Bokuto grins at you. “I’ll get you home, Keiji. I swear it.”

When you’re back scrubbing at the bathhouse floor and answering to another name, you find yourself swearing your own oath under your breath.

I’ll remember your name, Bokuto.

The masked-shadow waits outside the bath you’re assigned to. It looks bigger than before. There’s a crowd gathered around the corner, whispering and muttering. Konoha grips your shoulder.

“You’re cleaning the upstairs rooms with Yukie today,” he says, and the rare seriousness in his pale eyes erases any thought of arguing.

“Who is that?”

Yukie shakes her head. “The guest showed up a few nights ago, but no one knows quite what it wants. Only that it eats, and pays in gold.” She sighs dreamily, dumping new futons on you. “Lots and lots of gold.”

The bustling downstairs rises to a din when you’re on break on the balconies. The waves are like white-noise, drowning out everything except your thoughts. It grows louder, until you’re squinting into the clear skies, and there—

Incoming—

Something’s hurtling towards you at high speed. You barely have time to leap out of the way before the screens are torn through and blood is splattered across the wooden planks.

An owl screeches. There’s a flurry of wings as paper dolls chase after the bird of prey. Snapping out of your shock, you slam the shoji shut and smack at the paper until they fall to the floor. The struggle behind you ceases. The bed rolls are a mess, but you’re focused on the bloody owl lying motionless in the corner.

“Bokuto? It—It’s you, right?”

Golden eyes blink up at you, but they’re dim, hazy with pain. He’s much larger than you expected. You step closer, but something flashes in his eyes, something wild, dangerous. There’s a sharp hoot, then he’s launching himself out the window again, fumbling upwards, slamming into the side of the building unsteadily.

“Kuroo-san,” you breathe, and then you’re stumbling out of the room.

It’s strangely quiet in the hallways. As you round the corner, you find out why. Workers of all shapes and sizes are holding up plates piled high, trying to please, and the masked-shadow sits in the middle of it all, like a bloated king.

“Kei,” Konoha calls, and you see the shadow turn towards you. It watches you step closer. Distantly, you’re aware of the crowd falling quiet, but you only see the shadow reach out, forming cupped hands from its growing blob-like body.

Gold spills out onto the floor. It glints under the lanterns strung from the ceilings, but you flinch. It’s nothing compared to the radiance of gold eyes you know. You shake your head.

“I don’t need it. I’m sorry, someone needs me right now.”

The hands drop the gold and hover in front of your face. Begging. There’s an air of desperation about the shadow that threatens to drown you. You don’t look back as you run. Not even when the screams begin.

“Bokuto!” you shout as you burst through the door to Kuroo’s room. Only this room is filled with pillows, and no black cats are in sight.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The words are familiar, but the voice is too soft. Yellow eyes peer at you.

You stare back. “I’m looking for Bokuto.”

The pillows shift, and a kid about your age appears. There are cat ears protruding from their black-blond hair. They twitch. “You’re the human, aren’t you? Kei?”

“Keiji,” you correct automatically. The cat-kid only blinks slowly. “Sorry for disturbing you, but—Bokuto. He’s hurt.”

Those yellow eyes appraise you again. Then, their tail flicks to the right. “He crashed in there.”

A trail of blood and feathers lead into the next room. The windows are open, and Bokuto, now a boy, lies still on the floor. You’re aware of another pair of footsteps following you as you cross the room.

“That looks bad.”

You don’t bother responding. There is dried blood on Bokuto’s arms, but you only find scratches. He stirs, confused gold eyes finding yours before he flinches out of reach. He looks scared.

Keeping your voice soft, you reach out a hand. “I won’t hurt you.”

It takes a minute or an eternity before he leans forwards to allow your touch. His skin is warm. You brush his limp hair out of his face, and watch his eyes fall shut. He doesn’t open them again.

“Kuroo-san,” you say. “Where is he?”

“He’s not in the bathhouse right now.”

“Where is he?” you repeat, catching Bokuto as he slumps against your shoulder. He’s slightly bigger than you, but at that moment, he’s never seemed so small.

A pause. “If you go, you might not come back, you know?”

“Please.”

There’s a heavy sigh, but the cat-kid nods. “Kenma,” they add as an afterthought.

“Thank you... Kenma.”

Kenma leads you down winding hallways until you’re standing outside, at a dock, staring down at the train-tracks in the water.

“You have a friend,” Kenma says.

You turn to find the shadow, free of its extra weight, waiting expectantly. Shifting Bokuto on your back, you ask, “Are you coming with us?”

There’s no answer. Kenma tugs on your sleeve. “The train’s here.”

The shadow drifts a few feet behind as you board the train. There’s not a single soul inside. Kenma lounges on the seat, stretching languidly. You hold Bokuto close, listening to his soft breathing against your neck.

By the time the train pulls up to its terminal stop, sundown has arrived. Kenma slouches ahead, and the shadow trails after. It’s a silent procession down the hollow roads. Bokuto grows heavy on your back, but you don’t dare let go.

Kenma stops suddenly. A door swings open from the trees. The shadow quivers behind you. You step through first, and then—

Light washes over you like a dream.

“You made it, huh.”

Kuroo the cat stares at you with a careless grin. Kenma immediately curls up by its side, and when you blink, a smaller tabby cat replaces your guide.

“Bokuto,” you say, laying the boy down. “He’s—”

“Sleeping.” Kuroo nudges him. “He saved you a second time, didn’t he? The contracts were not so forgiving. If only he can remember his name.” The cat glances up at you. “You remember, right?”

You stare down at Bokuto. Your empty hand throbs. “I-I think so.”

“Good. It’s time I let him go, anyway. Forest spirits are migratory, you know?” Kuroo’s eyes narrow as they slide behind you. “Now, your little shadow here...”

The masked-shadow looms imposingly behind you. You turn back to Kuroo. “I think it wants something from me.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo sighs, “it’s time to give its name back. Gods, I’m tired of this job.”

“Then quit,” Kenma mutters, eyes still closed.

“You know I can’t, kitten.” Kuroo sits up. “Go, human child. Take Bo with you. I’ll return Kei’s name, but you—you have to return his. Before sunrise, you hear, boy?”

When Bokuto wakes, you walk with him outside. The stars sparkle above as he shifts back into a bird.

“Will you take me home?”

Round, gold eyes blink at you. He nips are your clothes. You wave back at the cats and the masked-shadow, and then you’re taking to the skies.

“I remember,” you whisper against Bokuto’s soft feathers, and you think you hear him hum. “I remember your name.”

The next thing you know, you’re falling and there is a boy holding your hand, and you’re both crying but his eyes are the most beautiful gold you’ve ever seen.

On the first day of your first year of senior high, you step out from the opening ceremony into bright sunlight. There’s a pleasant breeze rustling the trees in the courtyard, and absently, you turn your head, searching for something you can’t quite name.

And then, there, above the heads of your fellow first years, a pair of gold eyes catch yours, and the whole world fades. You hear the running water of a bath, the rumbling of a train, the whisper of feathery wings through night sky.

The boy is suddenly in front of you, with your name forming on his lips like it’s made for him to say. He smiles, and the hollow aching that’s been rattling in your ribcage since you came stumbling back out of the forest at the first ray of light all those years ago—the strange homesickness for something, someone, always just out of grasp in your dreams—disappears.

“I remember,” you say, your hand slipping into his naturally, easily, “I remember your name.”

I’m home, Koutarou.

[enstaries]

Can you do anything (a scenario or headcanons or whatevs) about Tomoya having a crush on Hokuto? It fuels my gay heart ♪(´ε｀ )

aaah i dont think this is what you expected bc im on angst train today and it’s a little too deep :-( im not here to crush gay hearts so here’s an apology before you move on

 There’s something about Hokuto in his prince costume that really tickles Tomoya. The material clings onto him like a sheen of flimsy film, leaving little to imagination, and Tomoya basks in the majestic sight that is his senior, Hidaka Hokuto.

  "I’m not that good of an actor, you know,“ Hokuto had once confessed to his junior, the golden sunset painting him soft and raw. "Unlike you and President Hibiki, I don’t have the flair for acting. I still have ways to go.”

  The pain in his eyes and the wistfulness in his voice yearns for more, but all Tomoya could do at that time was stare back with wide eyes. He can see what Hokuto doesn’t, but is it that these eyes are blinded by puppy love?

  "‘Oh, fair maiden,’“ Hokuto proclaims, deep in character, ”'am I blessed to be in your presence. Fear not; I shall avert my eyes so you shall not be sullied.’“

  Hokuto’s line calls for the peasant girl Tomoya plays to giggle. ”'Please,’“ goes Tomoya, voice high with embarrassment, ”'for Prince Ryuji to speak so highly of me though all I have done is fight off the weakened enemy.’“

  ”'Nay! You think too little of yourself!’“ Hokuto catches Tomoya’s hands, and his eyes gaze into the very core of Tomoya’s soul; Tomoya sucks in his breath. ”'The whole kingdom owes you its life. Your bravery and your spirit… Hinoka, you have stolen my heart.’“

  Here is where Hinoka should blush, and Tomoya does, yet the pink of his cheeks is a genuine one. Hokuto smells so nice.

  ”'What? Me?’“

  ”'Yes!’“ Hokuto tells Tomoya, leaning closer. Wait, this is not part of the script! Hokuto should have released Tomoya to direct his heartfelt monologue at the faux audience. Why is he so close that Tomoya can feel his breath on his cheek, and feel dizzy from his aroma? Tomoya looks over at Wataru, but he nods, prompting them to continue adlibbing the rehearsal. ”'Why, I could just kiss you now and whisk you away to be queen of our kingdom!’“

  From the empty seats comes Wataru’s throaty laughter, and something in Tomoya snaps. His heart pumps in his chest, and he’s seized by the very character he plays: boisterous, peppy Hinoka who would have loved to snag the Prince of the kingdom.

  "Well,” she challenges, “why not do so now?”

  The scene changes, and it’s not Ryuji’s eyes that stare back tenderly, but Hokuto’s. Without missing a beat, Hokuto’s lips quirk into a smile and he ducks forward. Time seems to slow down, dragging what could have been seconds into eternity; Tomoya sees Hokuto’s eyelashes, dark and feathery, flutter shut, and the lips he has stared at for almost a year approach him, millimetre by millimetre.

  Tomoya’s brain whirs, and he finds himself back in time, where the nikuman Hokuto bought for him was heavy in his hands, and the sun dips into the horizon. Hokuto’s face is downcast and pensive with thoughts.

  "That’s not true at all, Hokuto-senpai!“ Tomoya exclaims, the nikuman dropping to the ground, but he does not notice. His hands are gripping Hokuto’s tightly, and his heart is so constricted with emotion he could cry. "How could you say that about yourself? You’re an amazing actor, and the best person I have met in my life! Please don’t underestimate your abilities, please don’t!”

  His small hands tremble over Hokuto’s, and as the sunlight dies, so does the frown on Hokuto’s face. These hands, they withdraw from Tomoya’s for the last time, and Hokuto smiles. “Thank you, Tomoya,” he says. “I appreciate that.”

  Tomoya is back to the present, and the sight of Hokuto a hair’s length from kissing him and fulfilling his dream is jarring. It’s so easy to just close his eyes and let it happen, but is that what he really wants? Is that the happy ending he truly deserves?

  His hands shake in Hokuto’s, and then they are snatched away. Tomoya cradles them like they have been burnt, and tears run down his cheeks.  Hokuto blinks, straightening. “T-Tomoya, what’s wr-”

  "Hokuto-senpai,“ Tomoya says breathily, "do you know how much I like you? Do you know how I have longed to kiss you? And for you-” the tears are streaming down faster now “-to play with my feelings like that, that’s just terrible!”

  Tomoya knows he’s right; he knows that Hokuto has just pitied him, that Hokuto has just used this scene to improve his acting, that Hokuto felt nothing for him - so why does Hokuto look so hurt, so empty, so betrayed? So why is Hokuto crying?