#imagine Fushimi just at a loss

[ridiasfangirlings]

I was remember an ask about when Munakata do a death penalty to Fushimi. What if after that, Munakata meet a baby who look like Fushimi in front of S4 gate? (Our Saru need a lot of love :( )

Jumping off the older ask, where Fushimi became a superpowered Strain and Munakata basically has to mercy kill him, imagine this all happens like a few months later. S4’s duties have shrunk but they’re still taking care of the occasional incident that pops up so Munakata is still in charge, it’s just the force itself is a bit smaller. He keeps Fushimi’s old sword in a glass case in his office and doesn’t really talk about what he had to do, simply referring to it as his ‘duty’ and nothing else. Awashima’s been concerned about him for a long time, knowing that this is the second time Munakata’s had to kill someone he cares about, but Munakata just seems as steady as always. Everyone’s grieved the loss and started to move on, the office isn’t the same without Fushimi but they have to keep working regardless.

One day Munakata is just randomly strolling the grounds late in the day, he’s developed a habit of just walking around headquarters at all hours of the day and no one has the heart to comment on it. He hears a sound by the gate and goes to check, and there he finds this little baby in a basket. There’s no note or anything and the child is too young to have Strain powers, the last people recorded as getting Strain powers were when the Slate was released so a baby born after the Slate’s destruction wouldn’t have them. The kid has just a whisp of dark hair and is crying with his eyes all closed, Munakata picks the kid up and is all ‘there, there,’ rocking him back and forth. The baby gives this little sneeze and then makes a noise that sounds like a tongue click as he opens his eyes to look at Munakata. The kid has these big blue eyes and immediately without even thinking a ‘Fushimi-kun…’ slips out of Munakata’s mouth. He quickly stops himself, because surely that was a mistake, but the baby is looking at him all fussy with a gloomy expression and Munakata can’t deny the resemblance. He doesn’t know if this is some sort of provenance, or a final gift from the Slate, but Munakata won’t deny it either because he’s aware that forces may exist which are even outside his comprehension. He cradles the baby gently and decides to take the child inside, to see if they can find the parents — but if not, well, Munakata feels he may be up to the task of raising this one.

[uwua3]

drivers license.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: omi receives his license and goes to the cemetery to celebrate

warnings: angst, anxiety, arguments, car crashes, driving, family trauma/issues, grieving/mourning, major character death/parental death

author’s note: if you are going through the loss of a loved one, please remember you will always have people in this world who support and love you endlessly ♡ you are not alone and you will make it through. i believe in you with all my heart—i cannot tell you it’s okay, but i can tell you it’ll get better. please keep trying, it’ll be worth it. i hope you wake up tomorrow with a lighter heart, i love you

this is not romantic! this is a headcanon i have of omi’s family history as he only lives with his father and two brothers (ＴｗＴ。) thank you!!!

word count: 2,619

music: drivers license – olivia rodrigo

I GOT MY DRIVER’S LICENSE LAST WEEK

JUST LIKE WE ALWAYS TALKED ABOUT

‘CAUSE YOU WERE SO EXCITED FOR ME

TO FINALLY DRIVE UP TO YOUR HOUSE

Omi was the first person to pass his driver’s license test in his family.

His father wasn’t getting any younger, so his hands were hesitant and shaky every time they hovered over the stick shift. The buttons out of the corners of his eyes were much too confusing for his old brain so Omi’s father insisted on walking everywhere. As he grew older, the Fushimi household reached a compromise of taking public transport during the weekdays.

Omi’s two younger brothers weren’t old enough. They were still in their early preteen years, so getting behind the wheel wasn’t a legal option. As the oldest son, Omi took it upon himself to get into a four-wheeler and figure out all the tricky mechanics for himself. Hours and hours passed borrowing his friend’s vehicle, spinning around in circles in abandoned parking lots, and studying road laws.

When Omi learned all by himself and paid for it with his own money, his father clapped his shoulder with his usual proud smile and congratulated him.

The leather beneath his father’s wrinkled hands suddenly felt like skin, as if he could see right through him. When Omi took a moment to take a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and could almost see a younger version of his father. A father that wouldn’t be so close to retirement, that wasn’t so fragile and slow.

What did his father see? Could he see Omi was still the little boy sitting in the backseat all those years ago?

“That’s my boy! You’re just like your—” Omi didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he hurried upstairs and left his father alone in the corridor. Sometimes, he regrets it. But, most times, Omi’s glad he didn’t stay.

Whenever Omi got into a car after that, he sometimes still heard it in his head.

Omi knew he was like his mother.

BUT TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

CRYING ‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

YEAH, TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

‘CAUSE HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SOMEONE ELSE?

The first thing Omi did after receiving his license was visit his mother.

The car wasn’t preferable by any means, but it did its job. The seat creaked every time Omi had to adjust it, the air freshner didn’t make anything better, and there was no possibility that the air conditioning worked. But, the windows rolled down all the way, the wheels rarely ran out of air, and the car door only jammed sometimes. At the red light, Omi shifted and heard the crease of his jacket.

Omi didn’t know why he still wore it. Those days were long past him now, but the aged material made this whole experience a little easier. Before Omi could let himself reminicse, the light turned green and Omi automatically pushed forward.

Check the rear-view mirror. Two hands on the wheels at all time. Eyes on the road. Pay attention to stop signs. Be aware of everything around you. Omi repeated this again and again until the GPS on his phone announced he reached his location. Parking carefully, Omi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until everything stopped moving.

Picking up the small bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat, Omi locked his car and nodded at the security guard at the gates.

“Hi, Ma.” Omi said, pausing at a worn-down grave with the same flowers as last time.

“I got my driver’s license last week.”

AND I KNOW WE WEREN’T PERFECT

BUT I’VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY FOR ANYONE

AND I JUST CAN’T IMAGINE

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OKAY NOW THAT I’M GONE?

Omi sat besides her, leaning his head upon the cold grey stone. Like her tombstone, she was always strong, resilient, and offered a shoulder to cry on. Omi shuddered and wrapped an arm around the grave, as if she was still here.

“I did it.” Omi breathed and closed his eyes shut, hearing the distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. Even though Omi knew he should’ve left to get ahead of the rain, his legs were too weak. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was going to crash and burn.

“Ma... it was so hard.” Omi finally admitted to himself, squeezing the plastic of the bouquet in his hands and distracting himself with the crinkle. “Every time I sat in the driver’s side, I thought of you. I was... I’m so scared.”

Silence, before a clap of thunder. Omi flinched, hiding his face in the grey. “You were such a good driver, you followed every single rule. You should’ve been the one to teach me...”

Omi hated this feeling, like he was selfish for wanting his mother to be here with him. But, he knew he was right. Omi shouldn’t have had to suffer through panic attacks by himself. Make close calls with no one by his side. Balance school, work, family, and driving every single day. Omi could feel the exhaustion in his bones, as if he was the one who was dead.

“Pa couldn’t. Ever since...” Omi didn’t dare relive the tragedy. All he could bear was the inhumane screams, shattering glass, and alarms of the ambulance from miles away before snapping back to reality. “... the accident, he’s been so, so sad.”

It was an under-statement to say the Fushimi boys were struggling. Losing a parent didn’t hurt just emotionally, but financially as well. As Omi’s father picked up more shifts, more and more of that money went to medical bills that should’ve been years down the line.

“Your boys miss you so much. I miss you, so much. You would’ve been so proud... just like Pa. He said—” Omi’s voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Pulling the jacket tighter, Omi winced as the sudden gust of wind chilled his spine. The leaves rustled unceremoniously and Omi wished he could fly away, too.

“I’m just like you, Ma.” Placing the small flowers at the base of her grave, Omi read the faded engraving upon the surface until his vision was clearer.

Omi moved onto the next grave without a goodbye, because he’s had too many of those in this lifetime.

GUESS YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT YOU WROTE IN THAT SONG ABOUT ME

‘CAUSE YOU SAID FOREVER, NOW I DRIVE ALONE PAST YOUR STREET

After visiting his mother and Nachi, Omi returned to his car. It looked nothing like the car he almost died in. Back then, that car was big enough to hold a family of five snugly. Now, Omi’s car didn’t need all that room. His father would never get back into a car ever again, and his brothers could just sit in the back.

Resting his hand upon the car door, Omi didn’t have the heart to open it. Going inside meant driving home; driving home meant seeing his father flinch whenever the car pulled into the driveway. Driving home meant preparing dinner, making sure the boys did their homework, giving Pa his proper medications, doing homework, and barely sleeping. Going home meant being mom.

As the rain began to pour, Omi didn’t move. Soaked and unable to distinguish if he was crying or just stupid, Omi hung his head and let the water run over him. Was this his Ma’s way of crying for him? Omi didn’t want to know.

Omi finally yanked open the car door when a pair of glowing headlights passed by him. He nearly missed the splash of a puddle by his feet as Omi started the engine. Something was wrong. The usual ignition wasn’t audible and the lights barely illuminated the darkening path. Omi sat in the driver’s side with frustration that’s been growing ever since the car accident.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Omi swore, kicking the floor uselessly as he lifted his fist to hit the surface. Before he could slam his hand down, Omi sighed and simply hit the dashboard lightly at the last second. He had spent far too much money only to pay for repairs later on.

Omi pulled out his phone and checked, only to see no bars and no signal. Omi was cold, shivering, and crying in a cemetery and he had never felt more alone.

AND ALL MY FRIENDS ARE TIRED

OF HEARING HOW MUCH I MISS YOU, BUT

I KINDA FEEL SORRY FOR THEM

‘CAUSE THEY’LL NEVER KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO

Omi bought his first car after saving for months.

He honestly didn’t have to. Leaving behind the delinquent life meant making good friends. Friends that didn’t start fights, disobey the law, or be at risk of being put behind bars. Therefore, Omi had a friend that was willing to just give him a car.

“Come on, this is our gift to you. You don’t have to worry about this!” Omi’s friends insisted, trying to push the keys into Omi’s tight fists. No matter how much pressure was put upon him, Omi never faltered, just like stone.

“I’m sorry, but I... can’t take this.” Omi guiltily rejected the brand-new car. It was a model only rich people drove, the same exact demographic his friend was apart of. It was freshly washed with the proper tags and everything. Omi could’ve just taken it and saved thousands of dollars.

Except, he couldn’t. The car by no means was a vehicle he sat in before. But, the white color was the same. If Omi wasn’t paying attention, maybe he could ignore it. Yet every time he saw the exterior, it brought him back to that rainy day, desparately fumbling to rip off his seatbelt and wake his mother up.

“Omi... you can’t afford to say no...” They sympathetically tried to reason with him, but Omi was far gone. He backed up, nearly tripping with how hurriedly he stepped on his own heels. If he blinked, he could see the new car wrecked. If he didn’t focus, he could hear the sickening sound of the brakes failing.

“Omi, it’s been years since she—”

If he let himself get consumed by the past, he’d surely die.

“Thank you for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Omi bought a car a week later and when his father asked about price, Omi lied through his teeth.

“My friends saved up and bought me one for my birthday. Don’t worry, Pa. We can make the bills.”

Even when his friends sold it and tried to give him the money, Omi didn’t take it. His mother didn’t raise her son to take money from anyone.

Like mother, like son.

TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

AND PICTURED I WAS DRIVING HOME TO YOU

Omi left the windshield wipers on, watching as the rain drops got caught in the way. The heating wasn’t functioning, so Omi huddled in on himself and waited for some sort of sign that he could make it home tonight. The radio crackled every now and then, making Omi jump every time a voice spoke a word before getting cut off.

The world continued on as Omi lived through another rainy dark sky. Omi remembered staring up at this type of sky, his back laid out on a stretcher and hand reaching for the closest family member. Omi mentally punched himself, finding that he was getting caught up in his own trauma much more often than usual. Ever since driving lessons.

When it got too much to handle, the assignments, the expectations, the pressure, Omi indulged in make-believe. Omi imagined an universe where he was driving home to be welcomed by the warm embrace of his mother. Where his father was standing taller, where his brothers left their rooms on their own accord, where he wasn’t the backbone of the household anymore. It didn’t do him any good to hope for something impossible, but Omi did so anyways sometimes.

Perhaps it was his punishment for not being the one who died that night.

As Omi swiped mindlessly through his phone, willing for a bar, a crack of lightning made his skin crawl. Yet, beneath the pounding rain, a single yell of shock alerted Omi to look up from his screen. A deep sense of familarity forced Omi to look past his window, hoping to see past the blurriness of it all.

At the sight of a dark frame, Omi didn’t think twice before hurdling him outside, barely able to close his door before stripping his jacket and throwing it around the man. The shivering man weakly holding onto an umbrella that did nothing but cause more problems.

“Pa?! What are you doing here?”

RED LIGHTS, STOP SIGNS

I STILL SEE YOUR FACE IN WHITE CARS, FRONT YARDS

CAN’T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“Son!” Omi’s father happily greeted despite being on the verge of catching a cold. Omi held the umbrella over his father’s head, taking the brunt of the cold willingly.

“I took the bus here. I knew you’d be visiting her today, but it was quite late.” He explained, wearing a newsboy cap that he must’ve had since youth. The sight of his father with a runny nose and wet clothes at his expense set something off in Omi.

“Why did you come?”

“To bring you home—”

“What would’ve happened if you died?”

The sound of rain was defeaning. Omi’s father stopped, staring at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. Omi’s arm started shaking, his grip on the umbrella’s handle was slacking. The truth weighed upon his shoulders, like he was about to collapse.

What if the bus had crashed? What if something happened to Pa while walking to the cemetery? What if it was Omi’s fault? Before Omi could apologize, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

Omi dropped the umbrella.

SIDEWALKS WE CROSSED

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THE TRAFFIC, WE’RE LAUGHING OVER ALL THE NOISE

GOD, I’M SO BLUE, KNOW WE’RE THROUGH

Omi couldn’t die.

Not when he raised his weak father that wasn’t getting any younger. He had to take care of his two younger brothers. Omi had to finish university, graduate, and be hired at a high-paying job to support his family. Fushimi Omi couldn’t die.

But, here he was, breaking.

“My boy, I’m not going anywhere.” Omi’s father said it so surely, like it was a promise he could control. Omi hesitated before resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of cologne. It was the brand his mother used to love, but he knew his father hated this one. It was so fitting, Omi refrained from crying.

“You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you.” Omi nodded, hugging his father with unsaid words he’d never be able to speak. Omi could never tell him his greatest fear was Pa dying. Could never admit that seeing his father react a second late makes him pace. Could never reveal he only went to university close-by in case an emergency occurred. Everything Omi did was for his father, his Pa, his only parent.

“She’d be so proud of who you are today. You are her son.” Omi’s father patted him once, twice, then pulled back. He rested his aged palm upon Omi’s cheek gently, just like his mother used to. His thumb ran over his scar with no judgment, just fatherly love.

Omi had never felt more loved.

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“You’re just like your mother, Omi.”

[profnodanna]

I am sharing here a mikorei scenario I wrote on twitter last night. Hope you like it! I will just copy-paste the thread without making any correction, apologies if the text will look “odd” for a tumblr post. 

AU in which Mikoto survives S1 and he is still the Red King during ROK. He partecipates to the Mihashira defense plan, and he is in the Slate chamber when Munakata gets shot by Iwafune (Also imagine Iwafune didn't want to arrive to the point to almost killing another King, 

it was more like an "accident", and he interprets it as another way of the Slate to play them all, because no matter what, Kings will be always be killed by other Kings or by their own powers). Mikoto sees that scene and is the one who has to give some first-aid to prevent >

Munakata from, you know, dying. There isn't much he can do anyway, besides pressing his hands on Munakata's wound in the attempt to stop the blood loss. And the blood is warm on his hands and doesn't stop, and a cold shiver run through his body when he feels a Sword >

cracking down, and he doesn't need to look up to know it's not his. Fortunately, the Sword doesn't fall, and it doesn't take much for Munakata to get some actual emergency medical care and to be brought to the hospital. it's a devasting night for everyone, >

especially S4, waiting to know the conditions of their King. It's almost dawn when they get to know Munakata is out of danger (and this is the moment in which Fushimi makes the "betrayal scene", right in the middle of the hospital hall). >

Homra goes back to the bar, and Kusanagi suggests to take a rest, that it was a long night. Mikoto is more than happy to follow that advice, he just wants to close his eyes and forget about everything, especially about that red power that keeps twirling inside him. >

But as he closes his eyes fragments of that night comes back to his mind: the shot, the blood, the endless wait, his powerlessness before an event he couldn't stop, and then that maniacal laugh, and the thud of a body falling on the ground.

There are Swords that go into pieces and Swords that fall. Old and recent memories mix with events never happened, with dreams and nightmares and worries.

>

It's a loop of bad dreams-waking up- feeling shitty-trying to get some rest; until he abruptly wakes up in the middle of the night. It's 2am. He is tired but wide awake at the same time. He gives up, and decided to take a walk. >

"I can't sleep" he says, while he walks into Munakata's hospital room through the window. Munakata, who wasn't sleeping either, notes that it is not visiting hours, Suoh. Mikoto shrugs and flops onto the chair next Munakata's bed, grabbing the other's tablet from his hands. >

"It's not work hours either" he replies, throwing the device away. Munakata sighs, maybe with a hint of fondness, or maybe he is just tired, murmuring "what should I do with you?" Mikoto replies that he doesn't want to hear that from someone who's in a hospital bed. >

They could keep going on, but there are tiredness and distress in both of them, and no one can hide it much. An awkward, but somehow soothing, silence falls onto them. >

It's Mikoto the first who breaks the silence. Out of the blue, in the middle of the darkness of that room, he murmurs that when he got that call from Kusanagi, his world shattered into thousands of pieces. Totsuka was gone. And that was the end. >

And sometimes, during particular bad nights made of nightmares, he wakes up and thinks if he really has the right to be there, when Totsuka is not here anymore and his world isn't the same anymore. >

Munakata doesn't know how to reply, or, to be correct, he has plenty of replies, but nothing that he feels to say. Eventually, he snorts, saying since when Mikoto worries about rights and such, wasn't he the one who wanted to choose for himself?

There is a pause, and then Mikoto asks what Munakata will do about his "world". Munakata says he doesn't have any intention to make it fall, that he will keep running until his last breath. Mikoto sighs, leaning back into the chair, murmuring that's unlike you. >

Munakata smiles bitterly, noting how only a year earlier, their roles were reversed. Nevertheless he doesn't regret anything of what he did. >

That doesn't reassure Mikoto in any way. If anything, it makes him feel even more exhausted, of the Slate, of other Kings, of everything. Again, silence between them. There isn't much to talk about they don't know already. As Kings, they understand each other's reasons. >

Mikoto has almost fallen asleep on the chair when Munakata speaks again, asking him why he came there. Mikoto doesn't even open his eyes; he makes just a "mmh" and after a pause long enough to make Munakata thing he has fallen asleep, he says >

he just came to see a friend (when he truly means he just had to see with his eyes that he was still alive). Munakata snorts, noting how Mikoto actually listens to his words, and Mikoto is all "ofc, otherwise I couldn't throw them back in your face"

Eventually Mikoto falls asleep (to then regret it the next morning), leaving Munakata with this bittersweet feeling, and with no other choice but to try to rest, since Mikoto made his tablet disappear. At least, he thinks, the night doesn't seem so lonely anymore.

[shibuemiyuu]

Desires - Hakuoki Fanfiction - Chapter 15

Here’s another update. 

All the editing credits goes to @impracticaldemon and @nalufever :)

Hope you enjoy :D

Chapters of the Story:

Prequel - Prologue - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - Omake - XIV

Miyuu

@hijichiweek @kirakirachiizuru

-XV-

Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you want to take a rest?"

"No, it's okay Inoue-san. I'll be alright. Besides, we can't afford to stop."

Inoue looked at Chizuru with creased brows. They had been running for the past hour so they could be at Yodo Castle as soon as possible. When Hijikata gave his permission for Chizuru to go to the Yodo Castle to ask for reinforcements, Inoue and Chizuru didn't waste any time and soon they departed the Fushimi magistrate's office. The Shinsengumi was doing poorly and they really needed help.

Suddenly Inoue stopped and turned to Chizuru, "Yukimura-kun, I think we need to slow down."

"What?" asked Chizuru, confused with the abrupt stop.

Inoue didn't give any explanation to Chizuru. Instead he walked to one of the large rocks and sat on top of it. Chizuru wiped the sweat from her brows and took a deep breath.

"Please sit here," Inoue patted the space on his right side for Chizuru to sit. The woman forced her throbbing feet to move, slowly walked to the large rock and sat beside Inoue. Chizuru then realized how tired and weak she felt. She had been tending to the wounded soldiers of the Shinsengumi before she heard Hijikata's words about asking for reinforcements from Yodo Castle. Her little energy had been depleting fast from all the hard work she had done. She took another deep breath to calm her raging heartbeat from all the running.

Chizuru glanced at the older man next to her and gave a sheepish smile, "Thank you Inoue-san."

"Now I know why Toshi-san didn't give his permission for you to go alone. When you are set on doing something, you really don't give any thought to your surroundings; much less yourself, Yukimura-kun. Since I became a captain in the Shinsengumi, I have seen a such behaviour amongst the young recruits. And it has been my responsibility and job to look after my subordinates so they won't get reckless." Inoue gave a tender and fatherly smile to Chizuru, "And looks like you are no exception."

"Sumimasen," said Chizuru, feeling embarrassed. A red colour burst on Chizuru's cheeks.

"It's okay. Even Toshi-san and the other captains also have their own moments of being reckless. And some of them are still doing it now."

"I know." They shared a tiny smile while they remembered one of the captains (Nagakura) 'antics' of being reckless. And then, they let out a laugh remembering the glare that Hijikata gave to the brawny captain which made him let out a bucket of cold sweat because of what he had done.

"We are in the middle of a war, Shinpachi. So, please refrain from acting stupid with your-so-called bravado and not beating our other members with sparring. Or, should I also become your sparring partner?" That had happened on the first day, when the Shinsengumi arrived at the Fushimi magistrate's office. Long story short: Hijikata found Nagakura and all the second members division stretching their muscles by sparring with one another. In the end, they were the ones sent for guard duty; some of the members faces were black and blue courtesy of their sparring session.

Chizuru had regained control of her breath. Looking at Yodo Castle, her face turned solemn, "Inoue-san?"

"What is it, Yukimura-kun?"

"Do you think the people from Yodo Castle will help us?" Chizuru asked wearily, glancing at Inoue.

"They have to. We need the help." Inoue answered her, but Chizuru heard the uncertainty laced in Inoue's tone. His face also gave away the anxiousness that he felt with their situation. "Honestly, I don't want to see Toshi-san's face like the one he showed before we left." Inoue paused before he continued, "I've been with him for a long time. I know how hard it was for the man to admit we had to retreat... One loss is enough," Inoue said mournfully while he was looking at the sky.

Chizuru agreed with Inoue inwardly. She gave a small nod at Inoue's last sentence. Back then, when Sen-hime and Kimigiku visited her and asked her once again to come and join them, she had warned the young woman of this condition. "This is a war Chizuru-chan. And looking at the situation, I can say that this one isn't in your favor. The Shogunate era will come to an end. Everyone who has been backing the Shinsengumi till now will no longer be able to give their support. Either you are going to swim or sink; disband the force or be killed in the process." Sen gave a wistful smile to Chizuru, "I hope that the captains in the Shinsengumi won't be their stubborn selves and will consider the rational option rather than following what their gut told them." Chizuru didn't know what to say. She realized what Sen had told her was an indisputable fact; of the Shinsengumi's situation and of the way the Shinsengumi members would react. An unknown fear slowly crept into Chizuru's heart.

"Chizuru-chan?"

Chizuru shifted her focus back to Sen.

"Are you alright?"

"Osen-chan… Is it wrong for me to hope that they will be back safely and none of them injured? When I think that one of the members of the Shinsengumi could be wounded and for them to risk their life… It really scares me."

Sen grabbed Chizuru's hands and she squeezed the latter's hands to comfort her.

"They are my friends, my comrades, my family. I really don't want them to come to any harm. But… this war is not only a war to defend the Shogunate. Their pride…. Their belief…. The things that they have fought for from the start, their foundation… That is what this war means to them. I can't simply tell them not to be reckless. Because I know that they will not just submit their fate to the new era and not fight with all they have for their belief. If they lose this battle… I can't imagine what face the Shinsengumi will show, of losing all the things that they have fought for till now. The captains… Hijikata-san won't let their belief to end just because of the name of a new era."

Chizuru didn't want to acknowledge the fear that she had felt since first hearing about their situation. While she went and stayed in the Fushimi magistrate's office, she still hoped that the war wouldn't escalate to the worst and somehow, the Shinsengumi would win the upcoming war. But when Sen told her directly about their condition and situation, she knew then that she had to confront her fear before it consumed her fully. Not that she wanted to face it, more like she didn't have any other choice.

Sen, Chizuru and Kimigiku were standing in front of the Fushimi magistrate's office gate. The Oni princess looked at the man that stood not far from where they were; sending his sharp and cold stare straight to them. The oni-fukuchou had stated that their visit was not welcome, especially when he knew that Sen and Kimigiku's intentions were to ask Chizuru again to come and join them. The gestures of his body language; his arms folding in front of his chest, not to mention the way he stared was clear enough for Sen to get the message. To go away and never come back.

'I'll never imagine the intensity of the bond will escalate this far. Back then, even though he had showed us that he didn't like our presence, he never blatantly expressed his hostility like the way he shows us now. Something must have happened between him and Chizuru.' Sen thought, looked back to her friend. 'The fear that Chizuru-chan feels, it must be the effect of the bond.'

Sen gave Chizuru a slightly sad smile. "Chizuru-chan," Sen began softly, "The fear that you feel right now is not completely because of what will happen to the Shinsengumi. Of course, you will worry for their wellbeing and hope for their safety. I have seen firsthand how strong your bond is with the Shinsengumi after all." Sen referred to how the captains reacted when she came previously to take Chizuru away. "And surely the situation will make you feel distressed and anxious. But… this fear, this unknown fear that has crept to your heart and nearly suffocated you, it's because of what happened between you and him. And sadly, I can't tell you what you can do to lessen it.

"But I will tell you one thing." Sen narrowed her line of vision to the Shinsengumi fukuchou. Their eyes met briefly before she looked back to Chizuru. "Do you know that my ancestor eloped with a human?"

"Eh?" Surprised, Chizuru blinked with the information.

"Her name is Suzuka Gozen. She fell in love with a human by the name of Sakanoue Tamuramaro and followed him to the capital. And I, in fact, am their granddaughter," Sen said with a smiling face. "Back then the scandal was really a big one, not to mention the chaos my ancestor had caused when she eloped with a human. She was an Oni, a princess in her clan, but she chose a human to be her partner. Two different creatures, an Oni and a human, to be together was a thing that was uncommon and could be thought as forbidden to be happened. The human and the Oni were not supposed to be together, less to have a romantic relationship. And her status also was not helping. Even though at last they could be together and the fact that I am here is an irrefutable proof of their love, the things that they had to go through, the trial of their love was very hard.

"What I want to tell you is, your condition and my ancestor's condition are the same. The two of them were also in your condition when they went through all their trials." Sen referred to Hijikata and Chizuru's bond. "But, instead of letting worry and fear consumed them, they chose to let one feeling to overcome all the anxiousness and it was what allowed them to endure the trial till the end."

Sen gave Chizuru a knowing smile and gave another gentle squeeze. "You told me that you love him. Hold onto that feeling and let it lead you to support the Shinsengumi and to support him. Your love is not doomed to failure. I just hope that you will tell him about the situation that happened between you and him, Chizuru-chan." The princess spoke to her friend with a solemn and serious tone, "I have told you that this is a life and death situation. If somehow, he dies in the upcoming war, and leaves you behind…." Sen shook her head. "You know what I mean."

Chizuru nodded and gave her friend a promise that she would try to find a right time to tell Hijikata about their bond in the near time…. Hopefully.She hugged Sen and sent her friend and her bodyguard away after that.

Thanks to Sen's words, the fear that she felt at first subsided. Not entirely, but at least it wouldn't haunt her and she could give her full support throughout the war. She poured out her love into the support which she gave to her friends and family…for the man who she loved dearly with all her heart.

But even then, her love was not enough to support the Shinsengumi winning the war. The look on Hijikata's face when he had to give the order to retreat had made her heart clench in pain. It was like she could feel the pain that Hijikata felt at that moment; which was true because of their bond, but she didn't know about this information and would learn about this in the future.

"If only Isami-san is here, instead of me…. Yodo Castle will surely lend us their reinforcement if Isami-san is the one to ask, as the Chief of the Shinsengumi. "

Chizuru turned to Inoue and the man offered her a kind yet strained smile.

"Inoue-san, you shouldn't talk like that!" Chizuru admonished the older captain. "You are one of the captains of the Shinsengumi. Hijikata-san wouldn't send you if he didn't have confidence that you will succeed with this mission."

"... You are right. If there are still ways for me to be useful to the Shinsengumi, I will do it without a second thought. Toshi-san would never send me away if he didn't have trust in me." Inoue offered another kind smile but it wasn't strained anymore. "Rather than to also look after you I guess."

"Inoue-san…" Chizuru blushed with embarrassment. Inoue chuckled when he saw Chizuru's red cheeks.

"Thank you, Yukimura-kun."

"You're welcome, Inoue-san."

"Then, let's keep our hopes up, shall we?"

"Hai."

They got up and resumed their walk to Yodo Castle without any delay after that.

---

At last Inoue and Chizuru reached Yodo Castle. The thing was, Yodo Castle no longer supported the Shogunate. They had changed their allegiance to the Imperial forces. What awaited them was a fortress, full of enemy soldiers.

Inoue had felt strange the moment they arrived and didn't see any soldiers guarding the front gate. His instinct told him to be on guard and when one of the soldiers aimed a gun from the castle's window at them, he grabbed Chizuru's wrist and dove, avoiding the bullet. They ran to the nearby forest and hid behind the trees.

Chizuru was shocked by the shot, but the older captain assessed their situation calmly. "Either they've already been overrun by the rebels, or they don't want to ally the side they think is going to lose. We need to get back and report this to the others and Toshi-san. It's clear now that they're no longer our allies. As grievous as this information is, they need to know." Inoue grimaced with his words. "It's also dangerous to stay here. The longer we stay here, the more danger I'll put you in."

"But…" The shock from the shot had made Chizuru slow on processing Inoue's words. When she fully grasped the situation, she felt dread and anxiousness come on full force. "But if we leave, then what's going to happen to Hijikata-san? What's going to happen to the Shinsengumi?!" She panicked and the look from Hijikata's face, the bitter and agony she had seen, flashed in her mind. "L-let's just try and talk to them! If we explain what's going on, I'm sure they'll understand and will help us!"

And for the first time since Chizuru joined the Shinsengumi, Inoue's kind eyes glared at her.

"That's enough!" Inoue said sternly, "I also want to go back to Toshi-san and the other with the reinforcements as much as you do! But please also understand that my job here is not only to ask for help, I also have to make sure that you are safe and protected. If something happens to you now, then I won't have a will to face Toshi-san. And that will have made me fail him twice, not being able to bring reinforcements from Yodo Castle and not protecting you."

Chizuru felt herself wilt under Inoue's angry words and glare. She realized she hindered Inoue's performance of his job. But before she could wallow in self-pity and blame herself, the older captain continued speaking, but this time the anger had subsided and had been replaced with concern.

"And it's not because of you. Even if I go by myself, I would return immediately and tell the others of this news so we can think of another plan to aid the Shinsengumi."

Chizuru could feel tears pricking her eyes. Inoue was not angry with her. His tone was not an angry one, more like a reprimand one would give a child over a mistake that the child had made.

"I understand," Chizuru bowed her head and covered her teary eyes.

"Now, let's go then."

Chizuru followed Inoue and they left Yodo Castle. They were silent on their journey back to the Shinsengumi. Chizuru didn't dare open her mouth, afraid that all that she could utter were endless apologies. Her mind had acknowledged Inoue's words, she just had to make her heart and feelings also see the logic and not feel useless or a failure-

"Don't worry about it."

Chizuru's mind snapped from her thoughts, and when she looked at Inoue, the older man was walking to where she stood. He looked at her with the same kind gaze he always had. Her feet had stopped in the middle of the road apparently. The captain had to walk a couple of steps from his previous position to reach the distraught woman.

"Inoue-san…" The tears that were welling up in Chizuru's eyes threatened to fall. She brushed them away roughly before Inoue stood at arm's length in front of her.

"This is Toshi-san that we are talking about. I'm sure he'll come up with an amazing plan and surely he will turn this whole thing around." Inoue laid his hand on Chizuru's shoulder and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Please calm yourself. If you show up and the others look at how distraught you are, it will only dampen their spirits more and that is not a good thing to happen during a time like this. Also, I think Toshi-san won't be happy to see this state of yours."

Chizuru focused on the warmth of Inoue's hand on her shoulder and the words from the older captain. 'I have to be strong! There's no time to be weak. I have to support them… to support Hijikata-san with all my strength!'

And Chizuru began to calm down and regained her composure.

"...Thank you, Inoue-san. And sorry that I can't offer any help for this situation."

"Like I said before. Don't worry about it. Who knows? Maybe Toshi-san already predicted this kind of situation and made a backup plan." Inoue reassured Chizuru again. His kind smile was still plastered on his face.

'Inoue-san's smile and hand are very comforting. Like what my father used to give me ….'

"Your smile and hand are so warm, Inoue-san. It gives me comfort and I feel like right now my father is the one that is comforting me." Chizuru felt wistful and nostalgic for her own father, Yukimura Kodou. Whatever her father had done and whoever he was, she still thought of Kodou as her father. "I recall when I was a child, my father used to stroke my head with his hand, especially when I was sad."

Inoue blinked, and his hand dropped to his side from Chizuru's shoulder. He observed Chizuru from head to toe, as if he had just seen the woman for the first time.

"A daughter, huh? ...Well, I guess it wouldn't be strange a man of my age to have a daughter of your age, Yukimura-kun."

"S-Sorry! Did I perhaps say something rude?!" Chizuru panicked and fumbled her words when she realized that she might have offended Inoue.

"No, no! Certainly not." Inoue shook his head. "It's the opposite, actually. I would be honoured and very glad to have a cute daughter who is also selfless like you." 'The father' gave his 'daughter' his fatherly smile. Chizuru felt her cheeks blush at Inoue's words.

"I-I am n-not like what you have described me as, Inoue-san…. You have made me blush too many times today." Chizuru stuttered, fighting the embarrassed feeling of being described as cute.

"I'm just stating a fact though." Again, Inoue put his hand on Chizuru's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Let's go then. The others are waiting for us and will get worried if we aren't back soon."

"Hai."

Chizuru and Inoue resumed their way back to the rest of the Shinsengumi; their bodies engulfed with a warm feeling for different reasons (amusement for Inoue and embarrassment for Chizuru). They hadn't walked too far when they saw some soldiers standing several feet away from them.

"Someone's over there," Chizuru muttered.

It had taken several hours for Inoue and Chizuru to arrive at Yodo Castle. By the time they left Yodo Castle, the sky was already beginning to turn red and the sun had begun to set. The soldiers they met were standing with their backs to the setting sun. They narrowed their eyes a bit because they were blinded by the light of the sun. By the time the two could adjust their vision, they saw one of the soldiers was raising his hand and a gun was aimed at them. A shot was heard.

"Watch out!" Inoue pushed Chizuru to the side and a loud groan escaped his mouth a moment later. His shoulder had been hit by the shot. He fell to the ground, clutching his wounded shoulder.

"Urgh!"

"Inoue-san!" Chizuru shouted. She tried to get near the injured captain, kneeling beside him to look at the wound.

The soldiers -turned rebels- sneered at the two from where they stood.

"Light blue robes? They are the Shinsengumi, huh?"

"We should take their heads, then later we can get nice rewards."

"That's a good idea."

There were three rebels standing before them. The three wore the same manic and mocking grins plastered to their faces. Two of them were approaching Inoue and Chizuru while their hands were drawing the katanas on their waists from their scabbards.

"You are rebels!" Chizuru said angrily, her eyes glaring at the attackers.

"So what if we are," one of the rebels answered, with a mocking tone.

"Y-Yukimura-kun…" Inoue grabbed Chizuru arms and tried to lift his body. "Don't provoke them more than necessary. Stay back." Inoue spoke with difficulty. The shot didn't hit a vital organ, but blood was flowing from the wound and the older man already felt light-headed from its loss. He realized that he couldn't fool himself; his life was nearing its end. 'At least I have to protect Yukimura-kun!'

"Inoue-san…" The older captain stood in front of Chizuru. He drew his katana and aimed the tip at the rebels.

"You have to go back," said Inoue. Each breath that he took was painful, and his body was staggering. "And please tell something to Toshi-san for me." He tightened his grip on his katana hilt and focused his eyes on the enemy in front of him. "Please tell him that I apologize for my weakness… And that I hope that he'll forgive me for not staying with him to the end."

Chizuru held back a sob that was threatening to leave her mouth. 'No… Don't say that.'

"I don't have the words to thank him enough for giving a man like me the chance to be a part of something." Inoue turned his head a bit to Chizuru and gave her one last kind smile. "Leave this to me."

After that, Inoue charged the rebels with a fierce outcry. "HAAAAA!"

"INOUE-SAN!"

Inoue attacked one of the rebels with all his might. His katana met the enemy weapon with a clang and for a second he managed to make the enemy take a step backward. But the other rebel stabbed Inoue from behind and the body of the Captain of the 6th division of the Shinsengumi went limp and then fell to the ground.

Inoue's half lidded eyes stared at the ashen Chizuru from where he lay, while he offered a last prayer that the woman would run and be safe before a last blow ended the life of the older captain.

Chizuru's body froze. Her face paled from the whole scene that unfolded in front of her. She bit her lower lip till she drew blood, but she didn't feel the pain from the cut. 'Why…Why…?'

The rebels were slowly approaching her again.

"Another one and after that we'll get a big reward for killing the enemy of the Emperor!" Manic laughter followed, after the rebels said what was in their minds.

Tears were flowing from Chizuru's eyes. Tears of anger. She gritted her teeth hard and slowly got up from her kneeling position. She drew her kodachi and pointed the tip at the rebels.

"You abandoned your comrades when you saw that they were going to lose the war. And you dare to call yourselves warriors. Samurai. None of you deserve to be called samurai!" Chizuru's eyes turned gold and her hair turned white. The rebels' eyes widened a bit.

"W-What's this?!" yelled one of the rebels in fright. "What kind of creature are you?!"

"Tch! A Shinsengumi is still a Shinsengumi. Just kill it and we'll still get the reward!" shouted the other rebels.

"HAAAAAA!"

Chizuru braced herself and prepared to defend herself with the blade in her hand. But a figure dashed from her behind and slew all the rebels in one swing.

"AAARRGGHHH!"

The rebels fell to the ground, blood flowing from their mouths and pouring from their wounds. The figure that had slashed them with his katana swung his blade once more to get rid of the rebels' blood and sheathed his blade in its scabbard. He turned, and a pair of golden eyes met another pair of the same color.

Chizuru eyes widened at the person, the Oni in front of her. "...Kazama-san…" She reverted to her human appearance. Her hands dropped to her sides, still gripping her kodachi.

"I told you before that Oni and human can't coexist. You've seen for yourself how that ridiculous fantasy of yours has brought you to this unfortunate event. Where is that human, the Shinsengumi captain who dared enough to say to me that he would protect you, huh?" The mockery in Kazama's tone was something that Chizuru expected. But it surprised her that Kazama was the one who had helped defend her from the rebels. It never occurred to her that the one to save her would be him.

"Ariga-"

"Surely, you have changed your mind about staying with this shameless and useless creature, haven't you?" Kazama cut Chizuru off when she wanted to thank him. He approached Chizuru confidently. In a quick motion, he was beside her already and his face was just an inch from hers. Chizuru gulped and took a step backward. "The humans are failing. I know you are a smart woman. It's time to leave them and join me, to be my bride." Kazama's face was getting nearer Chizuru's.

"L-Living with the Shinsengumi is not ridiculous," stuttered Chizuru. She tried to sound brave and convincing. "They have been protecting me, and even though this event is an unfortunate one, I won't leave and will stay with them always." Chizuru stared straight into Kazama's golden eyes. Determination reflected in her eyes. "I won't join you or anyone else."

'Certainly not to become your bride. Never.'

Kazama straightened his body and stared back at Chizuru, his face void of emotion after another rejection.

"I see that you still care for these human… for these insects."

"Wha-"

"And looks like my thought of you being a smart woman is mistaken. Only a foolish woman would reject my kind offering as many times as you have." Kazama added in haughty tone, "Or have you been poisoned while living with these insects?"

"Shut up!" Chizuru could no longer listen Kazama's insults about the Shinsengumi.

"What? Why are you so angry?" One of Kazama's eyebrows lifted. "Don't tell me that you are this upset just because of this insignificant man?"

"Shut up!" Chizuru took several steps back, distancing herself from the male Oni. She raised her hands and pointed her kodachi at Kazama. "I considered them as my family. You have no right to be bad-mouthing my family!"

"Family? You really have weird taste to have ever considered these insects to be at the same level as the oni," scoffed Kazama. "Really, I'm disappointed."

"Kazama-san, I'm grateful that you saved me from those rebels. Can you please leave now? You don't have any more business here after all."

"Who said that I don't have any more business here? My business is not finished yet." In the blink of an eye, Kazama had narrowed the distance between them, and next thing Chizuru knew, her hand had been struck, making her drop the kodachi. Kazama grabbed her wrist and held it in tight grip. "You are my business."

"Let me go!" Chizuru tried to pull her wrist from the Oni's grip but her strength was no match for Kazama's.

"I'm only interested in taking you with me. Your value as a pureblood oni woman is very high. It was never my intention to kill those rebels. I could care less which side they took and what their role was. For me, humans are all the same. They were just getting in my way and killing them is a bonus for me." Kazama pulled Chizuru toward him and their faces were nearer than before. "I thought that with all the things that happened around the humans, you would realize that it's no use to be around them again. And I can easily convince you to come with me."

"Whatever happened around the humans, around the Shinsengumi, will not make me leave them ever! Nor will I come and join you! Please let me go!" Chizuru spoke vehemently. She wriggled her wrist to loosen Kazama's tight grip. Suddenly, Kazama released his grip and made Chizuru fall hard.

"I really hate when someone tries to go against me. And you, that's exactly what you always do." Kazama was annoyed. "Or should I educate you to never again go against my words?"

A shiver ran through Chizuru's body. The oni in front of her had showed her nothing except that he was arrogant and selfish. She didn't want to imagine what he would do to educate her. With how pushy and perceptive Kazama was, she was afraid that the oni would know about her situation with Hijikata; about their bond. Even though Sen had told her that no one would ever know about the bond except the two persons who had made it, her gut was telling her that Kazama would somehow figure it out on his own. Making Kazama angry was not a thing that she wanted to do.

"I'd rather die than let you do whatever you want to do to me!" stated Chizuru fiercely.

"Would you?"

"Don't test me!" Chizuru brought her kodachi, which she dropped before, and positioned the blade in front of her neck. Slowly she got up from the ground, her eyes didn't leave Kazama's hard stare.

Kazama narrowed his eyes, his expression unreadable.

"Why are you so adamant about rejecting to be with me? Is it so abhorrent for you to be with me?" Chizuru almost blinked, didn't believe on what she just heard.

"What are you talking about?" asked Chizuru, confused with the unlike-Kazama words.

"Something must have happened between you and the humans. Something that makes you so adamant about not leaving them. Something crucial that involves a life and death situation." Kazama spoke his thoughts out loud.

"Kazama-san, what are y-"

"Did you bond with one of them?"

Chizuru's eyes widened. Her hands dropped to her side. Cold sweat dripped from her body. She wanted to say something to refute Kazama's accusation, but her words were caught in her throat.

'How… how could he come to that conclusion?!'

Chizuru's reaction was enough for an answer.

"Who?" Kazama said the one word in a dangerous tone.

"..."

"WHO?!"

Kazama launched himself at Chizuru and grabbed the woman's upper arms, his nails digging into Chizuru's flesh. "Tell me who he is or I swear I will kill all the humans that you have interacted with."

Chizuru was contemplating how she should reply to Kazama's inquiry. But before she could think any further, a blade flew by her side, aimed at Kazama's shoulder. Kazama dodged the blade and released Chizuru from his grip.

"Release her." A commanding voice came from the figure that walked toward them. A voice that Chizuru had wished and longed to hear since the rebels attacked her and Inoue. It's was so ironic that the owner of the voice came at the time when he shouldn't have come.

Chizuru turned her head to look at her behind. Her heart was beating furiously inside her ribcage. She was very afraid of the upcoming confrontation: of what Kazama would do; of what would happen to him. One name escaped her trembling lips.

"Hijikata-san…"

To be continued

Note: And now... Kazama knew about the bond. What will happen next? Hijikata and Kazama fight on the next chapter won't be as simple as Kazama mocked the Shinsengumi and he got angry because Hijikata grazed his cheek. It will be more complex, I can assure you that :)

See u on the next chapter ~~

[brynne-lagaao]

(Fanfic) Inconsequential

Title: Inconsequential

Rating: R18

Description: Since they’d started their new contract, Fushimi had gotten used to his arguments with Yata resolving quickly and easily. The latest one was lasting longer than usual, though, and he wasn’t sure what had changed.

Note: This is set after my longer fanfic, Set in Stone, which is an AU. You’re going to be confused if you haven’t read that one before jumping in here.

Crossposts: AO3, FFNET, my website. Links are here.

Happy Sarumi Day!

It started with coffee.

More often than not, Fushimi had noticed, their squabbles were over something petty like this. When it happened, generally there was a build-up of irritation on either his side or Misaki’s – or both – and it came out over a small matter. Usually it ended within minutes: a sharp outburst, a small period of reflection and then wordless apologies. It helped to feel one another’s emotions when saying those kinds of things out loud was too difficult; that was the major advantage with their contract. As a result, those moments of friction in their relationship were almost always mercifully short-lived.

This time, it seemed to be one of the rare exceptions: despite being the usual petty nonsense, the argument did not resolve quickly.

“Fushimi.” Awashima’s crisp voice cut into that thought; when he looked up from his phone – which he’d brought up to occupy himself while waiting for the train and then gotten lost in his thoughts instead of paying attention to it – she was approaching him, a small sack in her hands. “Could you bring this with you for Yata? He left it behind the other day.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue, more out of reflex than real annoyance. “Is it really that much of a hassle to hold onto it for one night?” Despite the words, he reached out to take the bag from her. “He could just get it when he comes in tomorrow.”

She raised an eyebrow in return. “He requested the day off tomorrow. You didn’t know?”

Now that was irritating. “Obviously not, since you had to tell me.” He turned his eyes deliberately back to his phone, avoiding that pointed gaze. It’s not your business. “Is that all?”

Not her business that what should have been a small argument over an empty coffee bin had not resolved by the end of a single day, and bled into the next. Not her business that he could feel the faint echo of blended frustration and hurt from Misaki’s side of their bond, punctuated at random by emotional reactions to the events of the day. Not her business that Misaki had spent the night at his mother’s house, without explanation and seemingly out of nowhere. And especially not her business that they hadn’t spoken since the morning of the supposedly trivial argument they’d had.

He didn’t know why this particular argument had triggered such an extreme scenario, and it was beyond irritating. Why did relationships have to be so needlessly complicated and nonsensical?

Awashima let out a short sigh, sounding vaguely exasperated. “That’s all.” She turned smartly on her heel, glancing back over her shoulder only long enough to add, “Take care going home,” before heading back out in the direction she’d come.

Fushimi frowned after her for a brief moment, and then clicked his tongue again.

It was still hard to deal with sometimes, having people who legitimately cared about his well-being. He didn’t know how to react.

Well, it doesn’t matter. Awashima, of all people, was smart enough to read between the lines.

For all the talk of him being an idiot who needed things spelled out, usually Misaki could too. When it mattered most, at least. It had spared Fushimi a few times, though he was gradually coming to terms with having to initiate difficult conversations when necessary. The relationship they’d carved out for themselves was not always easy to maintain.

Worth the effort, though. In the months since he’d moved permanently into Misaki’s place, Fushimi had become more and more certain of that.

Which was probably the only reason he had been able to cage and control the dread that crept instinctively into his heart and fluttered about in a panic at the extension of the unresolved argument. He was fairly sure that Misaki couldn’t feel it, not at this distance.

If Misaki could feel it, and still avoided him…

Fushimi squashed that doubt ruthlessly, clicking his tongue again. It didn’t bear thinking about – that response went against everything he knew of Misaki’s nature. And his knowledge on that particular subject was extensive, despite the current thinning of their bond through the distance between them.

When they were apart, the vivid spectrum of emotion that typically flowed into his head from Misaki’s end was faint, a poor echo of the flood that had overwhelmed and eventually captivated him when they had initially been forced together. It was a blessing in some ways – he had to focus on work, and the emotions that Misaki lived with on a day to day basis were incredibly distracting to Fushimi, who was used to compartmentalizing his feelings in order to get through life with a minimum of unpleasantness. But ultimately, he preferred when they were together and he could drown in the pleasant chaos of Misaki’s heart and soul.

Even just thinking of gazing into Misaki’s eyes and seeing the warmth of his affection on display in perfectly harmony with the emotion that radiated through their bond could send a little shudder of anticipation through him. Not sexual – though that was simple enough to conjure too, imagining the heat of Misaki’s reactions and the soft but firm sensation of his flesh under Fushimi’s fingers – but rather… something deeper and more basic. It triggered a reciprocal reaction within him.

He hadn’t really known that he was capable of such vast and fervent care for another person. It was terrifying in a number of ways, but it wasn’t something he could be persuaded to give up.

That’s why I’m planning these annoying things. Fushimi clicked his tongue again, hefting the sack in his left hand just enough that he could tilt his fingers to see the light reflect off of the rich orange of his ring. Even just looking at it was enough to settle those unpleasant feelings of uncertainty and discomfort. It was a material proof of everything that had been built between them, and a physical reminder that their commitment was unbroken. Even if he couldn’t understand the reason for the persistent ache in Misaki’s heart, the fact remained that he could still feel it. Misaki wasn’t shutting him out.

In his coat pocket, the small bundle of coffee beans he’d negotiated for earlier that day seemed to sit heavily.

Whatever the unknown significance behind his using up the last of the previous batch was, he hoped this peace offering would be enough to counter it. Or, at the very least, get Misaki talking to him again. Regardless of how often he’d complained about how loud his partner could be, the current silence really was unbearable.

Just to be sure, he checked his messages again. The last received text from Misaki was still the brief note from the previous day stating that he’d be at his mother’s house overnight.

The train pulled into the station at that point, and Fushimi stowed his phone and Misaki’s forgotten bag to join the flow of traffic filtering up to the doors.

With luck, Misaki would already be at home when he got there, and they could resolve this quickly.

The apartment was empty.

Even before he’d made it up the front walkway, Fushimi knew that Misaki wouldn’t be there. The flow of emotional backlash in his head was still a faint echo, telling him that they were nowhere near each other and not steadily getting closer as he would’ve expected. Once again, as he hesitated at the foot of the stairway leading up to their floor, he felt that unpleasant blend of uncertainty and dread rise up like bile at the back of his throat, and once again he ruthlessly forced it back down.

It’s not like it’s unusual for him to be out, is it? Misaki was frequently out with his friends, which Fushimi had come to appreciate. He was more accustomed to solitude and as much as he enjoyed being with Misaki, it was nice to have some moments to himself here and there as well. There was never any question that Misaki was coming home to him in the end, as evidenced by the enthusiastic cheer that was always present at the back of his head during such times.

And of course there were the times when Misaki blundered back into the apartment, full of boisterous energy, and Fushimi couldn’t quite resist the urge to move in close and direct that energy… elsewhere.

Somehow, with the echo of frustration and hollow unhappiness still lingering in that place where Misaki’s emotions bled into his, this didn’t feel at all like one of those times.

Fushimi clicked his tongue at that thought, with more worry and less irritation than he would’ve preferred, and made his way up the stairs to unlock the apartment door. As expected, it was dark and silent inside, with no sign that Misaki had even been home at all that day. A glance at his phone showed no new messages. Seriously, where is he?

He could always ask, of course. Fushimi even went as far as to type the question into the message box, before grimacing to himself and exiting the app. The impression of a nagging housewife demanding to know her husband’s every movement gave him an unpleasant feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake.

Granted, Misaki had no problems asking him where he was when the situation called for it, and he didn’t exactly mind. But still… showing concern like that - exposing that worry…

It was a little too much right then.

Rather than dwell on it, Fushimi opened his scheduling app instead. It was more to give himself something to focus on than because he thought he had overlooked anything - his memory rarely failed him, and even in the unlikely event that it did, he had reminders enabled. The visual details in the app itself confirmed that everything was in order, which put him at a loss of what course of action to take, yet again.

Why was this all so needlessly complicated and perplexing?

There was an additional event showing on the previous day, though - one without a reminder and with no color indicating priority, which meant it had been added in case a conflict arose rather than as something he needed to take particular note of. It was labeled with ‘Yata anniversary’.

Right. Misaki’s mother’s wedding anniversary. That would explain why he hadn’t given it much thought or had it come to mind immediately; it had seemed inconsequential at the time, so he’d filed it in his own head much like he had in his phone, as something not worth paying much attention to. After all, he would not have been attending and Misaki being out wouldn’t be unusual.

And then the fight had happened, and it had thrown him off. Of course.

The relief that came with the discovery was palpable. Fushimi let out a breath, lowering his phone, and then allowed himself a rueful little smile. What a ridiculous situation. There was nothing unusual about Misaki spending the night at his mother’s after - likely - celebrating late into the night. It didn’t relate to their argument at all; the two events had just happened to coincide.

Still, he couldn’t shake the unease that had plagued him. It wasn’t just the actions Misaki had taken; with the way their bond worked, it could never come down to just that.

The persistent sense of an emotional ache at the back of his head had lingered since yesterday.

Unbidden, a sharp memory of Misaki’s voice came to him, unusually subdued, “they’re a real family, all of them related and everything.” It wasn’t exactly bitterness in his voice; more like a kind of longing, or regret. “All of them normal.”

Ah. Right - that.

The realization was enough to line up the rest of the pieces in this puzzle he’d been trying to sort out in his head. Fushimi turned into the kitchen to retrieve the jar where Misaki kept his invisibility powder.

He was fairly certain he knew where to go now.

Most of the time, Fushimi was indifferent to the temperature outside. It didn’t really impact him as someone who wasn’t a natural resident of this realm, so he didn’t feel the need to pay much attention to it. He made a point of wearing jackets as it started to get colder so that he didn’t stand out, but that was it. So the fact that it was late November and there was already a chill in the air even before he flew up above the city shouldn’t have been particularly worrying.

Misaki, however, was affected by temperature. And there was no telling how long he’d been up there by that point.

Even in mid-flight, Fushimi found himself clicking his tongue. Not like he can’t handle himself. There was no real reason to worry, and yet…

Well. It was another of those annoying ‘relationship’ things.

At least he didn’t have to wonder where Misaki had gone. The familiar domed glass roof of the skyscraper wasn’t even in sight when the rush of emotions started to intensify and he knew he was getting close. As he drew close enough to land next to the hunched figure sitting on the beam, he could feel frustration so deep that it settled in his own belly and rose up at the back of his throat like an old ache.

Fushimi clicked his tongue as Misaki turned his head up, their eyes meeting without trouble in the tiny amount of moonlight that peeked through the clouds to dimly illuminate them. “I thought you might be here.” Since Misaki had already retracted his wings in order to put on a sweater, Fushimi did the same, dropping down to sit beside him and raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Misaki offered him a rueful smile in return, tiny threads of resignation and something like gratification weaving through the thick funk he’d worked himself into. “Yeah, well, y’know.” He reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Had some stuff on my mind.”

“Hm.” There was no trace of anger or resentment towards him, so this really did have nothing to do with their fight. Oddly, Fushimi didn’t feel particularly comforted by that. When Misaki’s mood was subdued or low, it was always concerning. Not because his emotions weren’t as strong as ever, bursting through even in the ‘off’ moments, but because it felt wrong.

When Misaki was being fully himself, the world was in order. Fushimi couldn’t help but selfishly hoard those moments, taking pleasure from Misaki’s unrestrained side. But knowing how free and bright he felt in those moments, it seemed doubly as devastating when he squashed himself down like he was at that point.

You shouldn’t have to feel like this. Anyone who didn’t appreciate Misaki at his most natural was a fool, in Fushimi’s opinion. He couldn’t see any benefit to repressing that brilliance. Even when something about Misaki’s boisterous behavior annoyed him, he wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

He could see the change in the dim light of Misaki’s eyes as those emotions flowed through to him - at the same moment as something warm and thankful started to overpower the frustration seeping through the back of his own head. The tiny smile that he’d been offered widened into something much more content. “Ah, yeah, I get it - you don’t have to say it.” Misaki let out a long sigh, as if releasing a load of tension, and leaned sideways to bump his shoulder against Fushimi’s. “But thanks.”

Even after all this time, gratitude still made him feel mildly uncomfortable. Fushimi managed a small shrug, reaching up to adjust his glasses without thinking. “I didn’t really do anything.”

Misaki laughed, amusement accompanying the sound, and his smile split into a grin. “Yeah, yeah. You still suck at this stuff, huh?”

Fushimi clicked his tongue at that, frowning as he turned his gaze aside. “Don’t say it like you didn’t already know.”

“Heh.” Misaki shifted so they were closer, pressing against his side with easy familiarity and dropping his head sideways against Fushimi’s shoulder. “It’s part of what I like about you, Saru.”

The sincerity and affection that came with the simple statement had him closing his eyes in instinctive reaction, allowing himself a moment to indulge fully in those pleasant emotions. “Mm,” he responded noncommittally, and let his own head tilt to rest on top of Misaki’s. The roughly cut strands tickled his cheek, but he didn’t mind it.

He could have sat out here for hours like this, just him and Misaki in their own little world. But there were other things to consider, too. After a short while, as Misaki started to shift a bit with restless energy, Fushimi lifted his head again, adjusting his position so that he could reach into the pockets of his jacket.

“Here.” He started by handing over the sack that Awashima had pressed on him earlier. “Apparently you forgot this at the Captain’s office.”

“Oh shit, I did!” Misaki took it from him, shaking his head as his grin turned rueful again. Despite the reminder, his spirits seemed higher. “Guess I was pretty distracted today, huh?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Well, thanks for bringing it! Would’ve sucked to have to go get it tomorrow since - ” He stopped there, eyes widening a little as he caught himself. “... ah.”

“Since you have the day off?” Fushimi finished for him dryly. He raised an eyebrow when Misaki shot him a guilty look, chagrin overpowering the bond between them. “Were you planning on telling me any time soon?”

“Of course I was! Obviously!” The indignation in Misaki’s tone matched his feelings perfectly - as usual. He scowled. “It was supposed to be a surprise - you’re off in the morning, right? I thought we could, y’know, spend some time together.” One of his hands came up to rub against the back of his neck, a mild undertone of embarrassment coloring his emotions. “Or something like that.”

That shouldn’t have been unexpected - it was very like Misaki - but somehow, Fushimi found himself taken off-guard. He blinked, attempting to collect himself.

Misaki didn’t wait for a response, tearing ahead forcefully as usual. “I mean, I was gone overnight and the last time we fucking talked, we had that stupid fight - fuck, that was so dumb.” He shook his head, letting out a soft ‘ch’ under his breath as his lips twisted further into the scowl. There was an edge of that familiar frustration from the past two days seeping through from his end again. “I wouldn’t have cared you took the last of the coffee - not like I can’t just get more, right? But I was thinking too much about some shit, and I just - ” He made an agitated noise, abandoning the rest of that sentence. “Whatever, anyway… I went and got more.” Hastily, he pulled open the sack and retrieved a familiar bag of coffee beans, looking up to meet Fushimi’s gaze again. His eyes were flashing in the moonlight, stubbornness and determination writ on his expression and echoed through their bond. “Figured I’d make it for us both tomorrow and we could hang out for a bit. Yeah?”

Misaki… Dimly, Fushimi thought he should be able to predict and control this. It happened all the time, after all. But he could never be properly prepared, somehow. So once again, here he was - stunned and captivated by that expressive presence that had bulldozed into his life and settled comfortably at the center of it. He wanted to shut his eyes and will away the furious pounding of his heart, but looking away from that straightforward gaze felt almost unbearable. So he settled for drawing in a breath, gathering his thoughts, and weakly clicking his tongue before reaching into his pocket for his own peace offering.

We were thinking the same thing, huh?

“Here.” He held up the second bag of coffee beans, satisfied with the slight widening of Misaki’s eyes and the surprise filtering through to him as he did. “Now we have more than enough, I guess.”

Misaki blinked a few times in rapid succession as that sunk in, and then abruptly let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Are you kidding me? What the hell?” The grin that settled on his face was wide and bright, eyes sparkling with the same amusement that outlined his feelings as he reached out to take the second bag. “How’d you even get this, anyway? Didn’t know you had anything to trade for it.”

Fushimi clicked his tongue again, vaguely irritated by the reminder. “I didn’t. The Captain does, though.”

“Damn.” Misaki grimaced with open sympathy. They both knew all too well what making that kind of deal involved. “What kinda shitty jobs did you do?”

At that, he did close his eyes, letting out his breath in an aggrieved huff. “Don’t ask.”

“Right, yeah. I can guess anyway.” When he opened his eyes, Misaki was offering him a lopsided smile. Gratitude and more than a little affection surged through their bond, seeming to envelope him as their eyes met. “Thanks for that.”

Fushimi didn’t have to strain himself to catch the underlying meaning. Thanks for caring enough to put in that effort for me. It was close to how he felt often, where Misaki was concerned. Still, he responded with only an awkward shrug. “It was nothing.”

Once again, that affection gained an amused edge. “Sure,” Misaki responded teasingly, letting out a small ‘heh’ and bumping against his shoulder again, playfully. His eyes grew lidded, a smirk forming on his lips as he regarded Fushimi with warmth.

It was a sight he couldn’t help but find beautiful, heart catching in his throat as he let himself drown in that gaze. Without thinking, Fushimi reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from Misaki’s forehead, letting his fingers linger on the cool skin. “How do you feel about racing home?”

The meaning wasn’t lost; he could see it in the way Misaki’s expression changed subtly, anticipation building both from their bond and in his own head, mingling so that it was impossible to tell where it had originated. The answer was clear even before it was voiced.

“Hell yeah!”

They were on each other before they’d even properly fumbled through unlocking and opening the door, stumbling inside in a flurry of heated kisses and wandering hands. Misaki’s torso was bare from their flight, and Fushimi shamelessly took advantage, fingers mapping the familiar path to the sweet spots he’d so pleasantly discovered in the course of their relationship. Misaki moaned into his mouth, delight and arousal answering his own with abandon, hands gripping Fushimi’s arms, shoulders - everywhere that could be reached - with rough enthusiasm.

Misaki hadn’t withdrawn his wings, only folded them so that they would fit in the smaller space within the apartment, and so Fushimi followed his example, dropping the illusion of his coat and retracting his own wings only long enough so that Misaki could tug his shirt off before loosing them again. He wanted to feel those calloused hands on his skin, rapidly warming with the heat and friction between them as they ground together. But the moonlight streaming through the open window in the kitchen, finally freed of its cloudy prison, seemed to demand more of them.

Or maybe that was just a reflection of the emotion behind this. Fushimi couldn’t be bothered to puzzle it out. He only wanted Misaki in that moment, hard and warm and passionate against him.

Despite the flurry of activity and the urgency fast building between them, things were not moving as fast as Fushimi might have expected. Misaki’s kisses were slow, lingering - deep - underlined with a kind of aching longing that overwhelmed even his arousal. He wasn’t being as aggressive as usual, instead clinging to Fushimi with something like desperation, a silent plea in every action and emotion that passed between them.

It wasn’t difficult to figure out what he needed. Considering the previous night, his mood throughout the day, and the baggage he carried.

“I also wanna know for sure that you want me.”

Fushimi had been there often enough himself, and Misaki was always only too happy to oblige him. The fae were possessive by nature, and it didn’t take much to draw out that side. Now, faced with that same demand, Fushimi found that wild, unrestrained part of his own nature rising up to meet the challenge.

Demons were no less possessive, after all.

Mine. The thought rose into his head unbidden, fueled by the heat of that rush. Fushimi pushed forward on instinct until Misaki hit the edge of the kitchen counter, their mouths separating with the impact. He slid his eyes open just enough to take in that flushed face in front of him, plush lips parted with ragged breathing. Misaki’s eyes opened just a crack, gaze clouded with heat, and Fushimi felt the telltale spike of pleasure from his groin that signalled lustful attraction.

Misaki was stunning. Beautiful. The way his hair brushed his face. The sharp outline of his eyes, the natural downturn of his mouth, the rise of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw… Everything. Fushimi wanted to take it all into himself and keep it forever, to hold onto the parts of Misaki that only he was allowed to touch and never let go.

“Misaki,” he murmured, their lips brushing, and swallowed the responding shudder with a kiss. My Misaki. Only mine.

That possessive thought was still ringing in his head as he slid his hands down the slope of Misaki’s back to cup and then grip the curve of his ass. Mine. Breaking their kiss with one last swipe of his tongue along the inside line of Misaki’s lips, he began to trail harsh kisses down along Misaki’s jaw, neck, and chest, savoring the taste and the slight give of flesh under his mouth.

So good. He could feel every hitch, every shudder of arousal, the vibration of every moan. Misaki’s arousal fed into his own, made the wait almost unbearable. Trapped within the confines of his pants, his erection throbbed painfully.

Not yet...

Unsteady fingers tangled in his hair, seeking and finding the base of his horns for purchase as he moved purposefully downward. “Saru,” Misaki managed to get out, low and rough, thick with lust and desperation. Fushimi reached the waistband of his pants, hands sliding around to the front so he could remove that particular obstacle. “Saru,” he said again, voice catching in a gasp when Fushimi tugged his pants and underwear down, allowing his cock to spring free.

He’d wanted to tease - slowly work his way up to giving proper satisfaction - but with the rush of blind desire that flooded his head from Misaki’s end, with the scent and the heat and the sight of that telltale bead of fluid at the tip of Misaki’s dick... that plan pretty much went to hell. Overwhelmed by sudden need, Fushimi leaned in to run his tongue over the head, gripping Misaki’s hips with trembling fingers against the abrupt forward jerk at the stimulation. He obligingly followed the forceful guiding motion of Misaki’s hands and widened his mouth to take in the entire length.

The sound that escaped Misaki at the action was loud and breathy, a mix between a moan and a gasp. His fingers were tense and shaking around Fushimi’s horns - the sharp sting as he pulled roughly at them fed right back into Fushimi’s own erection. He paused with his mouth around the base of Misaki’s dick and dropped his right hand to reach between Misaki’s legs and lightly fondle his balls.

They were tight, as expected, and his light touch prompted a shiver; this was going to end abruptly if he wasn’t careful, and he really didn’t feel like being careful. He felt like driving Misaki mad, in the way that only he could.

Because you’re mine. You’re mine, Misaki.

With that goal in mind, Fushimi slid his fingers back, between the cleft of Misaki’s ass, and brushed over the familiar puckered hole at its base.

The reaction was immediate; Misaki let out a strangled sound, the force at which his hands tugged on Fushimi’s horns growing exponentially. “Saru,” he gasped, and jerked helplessly as Fushimi wormed his finger inside. “Wait… wait, I’m…”

Yes. Deliberately ignoring the warning, he curled the finger inward, applying suction to Misaki’s cock at the same time.

It was incredibly gratifying to feel Misaki’s body go taut and then convulse against him, releasing down his throat and throbbing around his finger in the throes of orgasm. He rode out the shivering aftermath and Misaki’s throaty gasps for breath, waiting until he felt the cock in his mouth begin to soften before drawing on that familiar store of energy and pushing a stream of it into the bond that connected them.

The moan that Misaki let out as his body reacted to the fresh flood of arousal was so affected it was nearly a sob. “Saru,” he gritted out, rolling the r more than usual. His tone was sloppy - desperate.

Fushimi slid his mouth off of Misaki’s hardening cock and pulled back just enough to free himself of his pants as he stood again. “You didn’t think we were done already, did you, Misaki?” he murmured, trying to ignore the way his own voice shook. The ache in his erection was nearly painful; he wanted to bury it in Misaki’s body, feel the tight passage clench around it and draw out the pleasure that could only come with sex.

“Fuck,” Misaki gasped, voice breaking as their bodies came into contact again. He clenched his teeth visibly, letting out an impatient ‘ch’, and released Fushimi’s horns. “Shut… up…” His arms dropped to the counter, hands bracing just before he hoisted himself up so he could lift his legs and hook them around Fushimi’s waist to tug him closer. “Just… quit screwing around and” - he was interrupted by the helpless little noises that tore free of them both as their erections brushed together - “fuck me already, Saru!”

The last bit came out as a near growl, challenging and lustful, and Misaki’s flushed face split with a brilliant smirk as Fushimi narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need you to tell me,” he responded, low and dangerous, and revelled in the little spike of arousal that reverberated through their bond at his tone. He reached into the drawer near them for a familiar tube and doled out a generous amount of its contents onto his hand, reaching between their bodies to run it sinuously over his cock and allowing himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe out deeply at the influx of pleasure.

Only a moment, because he was too impatient to wait very long before worming both arms into the space under Misaki’s knees and reaching down to grip his ass and separate the cheeks so that he could slide his dick into the opening thus revealed without obstacle.

The intense sensation that came with the penetration flooded his senses and left him gasping in the initial rush, unable to hold in the tiny desperate whine that rose to his throat as he was overpowered by his own pleasure and the telling surge of arousal and satisfaction from Misaki. He had to clench his teeth to hold himself back from thrusting blindly and chasing that feeling to its inevitable end all too soon. It was something to savor, not to rush, and he wanted to feel Misaki around him, welcoming him and enjoying him, for as long as possible.

It wouldn’t be long regardless, but it was worth drawing out as much as he could.

Having sex like this, in positions that were only possible because of Misaki’s strength and flexibility, had become one of Fushimi’s favorite things. There was something exciting about seeing the muscles in Misaki’s arms ripple as he held himself up, wings braced against the cabinets for stability, specifically so that Fushimi could press him against the counter and fuck him.

The extra effort seemed to excite Misaki just as much, too - the storm of their combined need was particularly intense. It took every ounce of Fushimi’s self-control to keep his thrusts even and deep. He couldn’t hold in the little whimpers that escaped him each time he buried himself fully in Misaki’s body, the blend of mental and physical stimulation causing any rational thought to fracture.

Misaki was getting close too; his thighs were tense against Fushimi’s arms and the shifting of his body in that difficult to hold position was a telltale sign that he wanted very badly to sink back against the movement of Fushimi’s hips. The fact that he was stuck like this, forced to take it at the pace that Fushimi decided on, brought on another little surge of pleasant satisfaction - which may have originated with either or both of them; it was impossible to tell at that point.

We’ll have to do this one again.

The thought had barely occurred to him when Misaki tipped his head back, letting out a wild-sounding moan and exposing his throat. Without thinking, Fushimi found himself leaning in to take the invitation, thrusting hard and deep into Misaki’s ass as he sank his teeth into the base of that taut neck.

Mine.

Misaki jerked beneath him, stiffening in that telltale way and letting out a strangled moan as came. The clamping of the inner muscles around Fushimi’s dick was the final kiss of death for his already feeble self-control, and he opened his mouth, releasing a wet gasp against Misaki’s skin as shuddering pulses of pleasure overrode everything else.

There was the usual pause as they collected themselves in the aftermath, panting for breath and coming down from the high. As their bodies were still connected, so too were their minds, emotions jumbled together without properly belonging to either of them.

It wasn’t something that demanded an immediate solution; Fushimi was content to feel merged with Misaki in that short period of time. As he came back to his senses, he caught the slightly blurred sight of the angry mark he’d left through his now half-fogged glasses, and lowered his head to run his tongue over the line of it in a sort-of apology.

That’s going to be hard to cover up. Fushimi felt shamelessly satisfied by that fact.

Misaki let out a weak-sounding snort, weary amusement seeping through his haze of satiated contentment. “What the hell was that, Saru?” He shifted his weight, leveraging his wings for balance and freeing one hand to slide along the back of Fushimi’s neck. “Marking your territory?”

He was gorgeous like this, flushed and satisfied with a smirk on his lips and heavy lidded eyes. It made Fushimi’s heart start to pound in his chest, even this soon after finishing. He clicked his tongue lightly, raising an eyebrow in response to the question. “Remind me... when exactly did you protest that?”

“Shut up - you know I didn’t.” Misaki moved his hand up to force Fushimi to tip his head, bringing their foreheads together. He looked thoroughly pleased with himself. “That was… I mean, damn.”

“So descriptive,” Fushimi murmured, but he felt his own lips curling up in a responding smirk.

“Whatever, asshole.” Misaki’s grin was sharp, but his eyes were still soft and fond and there was no hint of irritation in the mass of unsorted emotions between them. “And... thanks.”

Fushimi closed his eyes, for once not feeling the need to dodge that gratitude. In a moment like this, it wasn’t so awkward and embarrassing after all.

“Anytime.”

[herelaymythoughts]

Preface

Artemis: It’s ok to care a lot. To care too much. I think it’s really sweet that you care so deeply about everyone in your life. I don’t find it silly at all. I don’t think you’re a stupid girl. I don’t think you’re weak and I don’t think you should change this about yourself. Make a million playlists for a million different heartbreaks because at the end of your life, wouldn’t you rather have those memories to hold on to? Remember them? Know that you allowed yourself to feel such depth? The Fowl: Janus tells me that I’m looking for love in the wrong places, and I feel like I’m wasting my emotions, time, energy, and grief. Artemis: So what? So what if you are? Even if it comes from a misguided place those feelings and emotions are still real. If you’re looking for the Osaka Castle in Kyoto you won’t find what you’re looking for but you may stumble upon the Fushimi Inari Taisha, something equally fascinating and deserving of exploration. Are you going to wallow because you didn’t find what you were looking for? Do you throw your hands up and go home or do you climb it and appreciate the things you find along the way? The Fowl: That’s a good one. I’m mad at how good that metaphor is. But I still feel that they’re just a bunch of misguided steps that could have been avoided. Shiva tells me that I seek discomfort and stress because it’s the only condition I actually feel comfortable in. Artemis: So that’s something you work on not something you should invalidate or feel bad about. It’s not your fault that you are like this. It’s not your fault. The Fowl: But I am so self-destructive. And other-destructive. I feel like a tornado who can’t stop hurting everyone and everything in her path including herself. Artemis: A tornado forms due to the build-up of the pressure of a million gusts of wind. A tornado doesn’t wish to form herself. It’s not the tornado’s fault. It’s not your fault. The Fowl: I feel like I’m too old to be listening to Lorde. Artemis: You’re never too old to listen to Lorde. The Fowl: Really? Artemis: Really. The Fowl: I feel fat. I am fat. Artemis: You’re not fat. How is it even possible that you feel fat? The Fowl: I don’t know. I felt the most beautiful when I was underweight. I like the anorexic look. Artemis: But anorexia is a disease; why would you want to look diseased? You look and you are so healthy right now. Full of life and power and energy. The Fowl: But I was more beautiful then. Artemis: *gives up* The Fowl: I’m addicted to heartbreak. Artemis: Yes, yes you are. And you go to great lengths to find and manufacture it in your head baby. You use it to self-soothe. But it’s alright. It’s not your fault. It’s the only way in which you existed in your childhood: heartbroken. All you experienced was heartbreak, all you knew was heartbreak. You don't know anything else. The only things you knew were fear, guilt, and shame. You have no idea how sincerely happy you have the opportunity, the right to be. But you’ll get there one day. The Fowl: A stable relationship could never fulfill me the way a situationship doomed from the start could. Artemis: And that’s why you go after all these unavailable men. Physically, emotionally, worse when it’s both. Because you already know how it ends and there’s nothing you crave more than the heartbreak. And that’s why you’re so scared of commitment because you know that it’ll be the complete opposite of what you know and you’re afraid of being out of your comfort zone, afraid of letting yourself find happiness. Afraid of breaking the chains that have held you since before you were born. You’re not gonna wake up one day and decide that today’s the day you’re ready to commit. That it’s been 3-5 years since you said that maybe you’ll be ready in 3-5 years. Oh baby you have so much to learn and so much room to grow. You always have and you always will. The Fowl: Do you think that people who were loved properly as children can be artists? Artemis: I don't know. I mean they sure can be and maybe I'm just romanticizing trauma but I feel that having no trauma limits the degrees of intensity to which you can feel. Thus, those who’ve experienced the lowest lows can too depict the highest of highs. Are all those who are traumatized artists? No. Does it hurt? Definitely not. The Fowl: Wow. That makes sense actually. But then again you’re just a figment of my imagination, so I have no idea if that actually has any merit. Artemis: You can’t discount us like that. You love having conversations with me. The Fowl: I know I do. Higher highs, lower lows, but it’s only fun for a while before you realize that all you want eventually is stability right? Artemis: Yeah, but you’re not there yet. You’re getting there but admit it Lucia you love this feeling. You love this self-induced, subconsciously orchestrated heartbreak. You fucking love it. Lucia: I really do. The Fowl: Do you think that people want to read what I have to write? Artemis: They absolutely do. You know this. They’ve told you. The Fowl: I know but I feel so silly. Artemis: We’ve been over this. How many people do you think exist who are like you? The Fowl: Probably tons. Artemis: Probably. And the way you are able to articulate exactly as all those people feel? Think about how many people feel alone. How many people don’t have the incredible friends that you have who help you through this? Think of how much your writing could help them. Your writing has so much value. “Flaws, Chaos, Wreckage and All” That’s what you wanted to call it right? Plus you're hot. It doesn’t even need to be that good. The Fowl: Ok, insulting. Artemis: I’m your favourite person to talk to, aren’t I? The Fowl: Yeah, probably. Do you really think that people want to hear what I have to say? Artemis: Remember when we realized that we need to live as if we’re rich white men? Do you think that a rich white man ever doubts whether people want to hear what he has to say? A white man you know is writing a TREATISE. That white man thinks that what he has to say has enough value to be considered a TREATISE, darling. Darling me oh my. Do you know why all philosophers are rich white men? It’s because they’re the only ones with enough confidence to publish what they write, baby. Human greatness rests on humanity’s willingness and ability to communicate it. The Fowl: Wow, Jesus you’re convincing. Ok well. I already proclaimed it and Dionysus has already promised to buy at least 10 copies when I publish it so. Artemis: You already spoke it into the world baby. Self publish like Rumi, Su Shi, Rupi Kaur, and all the other greats. *The author would like to make a note that the above phrase is meant to be read sarcastically* *The author would also like to note that this is, in fact, an homage to Hofstadter* The Fowl: Ok, so what’s the first step? Should I wait until I have enough good things to say? Artemis: No, you’ve already outgrown some of the stuff you’ve written in the past. Why do you think that there will come a point when you have gathered enough experiences worth reading about and that’s when you’re going to be ready to publish? You should only feel that way on your death bed. Your life is going to keep happening and boy, I know yours is a damn interesting one. Filled with so much drama and chaos and love and loss. Remember what you’ve been told: “You are loved from all corners of the world.” The Fowl: Ok, so I just do it then? It’s not... Artemis: Why do you even have doubts? The Fowl: Because I don’t believe in myself. Artemis: I believe in you. And I’m literally the goddess of wisdom. The Fowl: And I’m just a chick. And a fool.  Artemis: That was funny. The Fowl: Why can’t you just laugh? Why announce it? Artemis: There are levels to this shit ok? The Fowl: Wait hold on Athena is the goddess of wisdom.

Artemis: Wait fuck you’re right how did I fuck that up? Rick Riordan would be so disappointed. 

The Fowl: Whatever. Back to the thing. We’re calling it “Flaws, Chaos, Wreckage and All” right?

Artemis. I’m not writing this book, you are. Is that what you want to call–” The Fowl: Yes! That is exactly what I want to call my anthology. Artemis: Darling you’re misusing that term. The Fowl: Then what do we call it? A book of poetry or prose or writing doesn’t quite cover it. Artemis: Call it a treatise. A treatise on emotion. The Fowl: Holy fuck I fucking love it. “Flaws, Chaos, Wreckage and All: A Treatise on Emotion” by Y. H. Zhang. FUCK I LOVE IT HOLY FUCK. Artemis: I’m glad you like it, dear. 🥺 I’m very proud of you, dear. You’re one of the smartest people I know. One of the smartest, most self-aware, most conscientious, most courageous, most loving, most thoughtful, most beautiful, most righteous people that I know. You really really don’t give yourself enough credit. The Fowl: That’s a lot coming from you, Artemis. Artemis: And I mean it. I mean every bit. See how I didn’t include some things like “selfless” or “kind”? Because we’re still working on that. But the ones I said I mean with full sincerity. The Fowl: I don’t know how to handle all this praise. Artemis: Accept it, dear it’s yours. Anyone who knows you could not be clearer of this. The Fowl: Hehe yeah, I think you’re right. My friends do praise me a lot. But I think I tune it out because I don’t love myself. Artemis: We all do. It’s a process. The Fowl: This conversation seems drawn out. Artemis: Does it? Or are you simply uncomfortable being praised? The Fowl: ummmmmhhMmm Artemis: Because I’ve just started. I can go on and on for days about how magnificent of a person you are. I mean I can also go on and on for days about the mistakes you’ve made and the people you’ve hurt too. But that’s the beauty of it. If you’re not making mistakes you’re not learning. You’re not going out of your comfort zone. You’re capping the level of your opponent, Life, at only 30 exp. If you’re always winning at life you’re not advancing in it. I once read an article that said that you should be failing at least half of the goals you set. Because if all your goals are within reason and achievable, then you’re not setting them high enough. You’re selling yourself short. So become a poet, and a musician, and a choreographer and dancer, and get a Norwegian green card and a regular green card and have four kids and get married and stay married. And have your own flower shop, publish and write and read to your heart’s content, be an equestrian, surf and dive and break the world record for women’s freediving. Speak nineteen languages and fall in love and stay in love and remain in love. And be buried under a tree that your great-grandkids can play under. And raise kind, loving children and cook vegan food for all your friends and have Lucia’s Club be a thing and love so much. And love so much. And love so much. The Fowl: That was really really intimate. It makes me want to publish even more. Artemis: It should! The Fowl: Wow, you really are just as insightful and knowledgeable about life as any of the men I’ve put on pedestals. Artemis: I am literally a statue placed on top of a pedestal. The Fowl: I think I need to apologize to you. Artemis: I’m listening. The Fowl: I’m sorry that I don’t believe in you enough. I’m sorry that I don’t love you enough. I’m sorry that I treat you in any way other than with kindness and love and compassion. I’m sorry that you’re the last person I’m apologizing to. I’m sorry that I’m going to keep hurting you despite knowing all this. But I want you to know that I’m trying, every day, to love you more. Trying, I promise you. Sometimes it’s easier and sometimes it’s oh so difficult but I’m sorry and I promise you, despite how scary it is to make that commitment, to keep loving you more and more every day. To console you, to trust you, to believe in you, to nurture you, to nourish you, to give you everything you need to succeed, even though I’m not even sure what that means. I promise to take care of you. Mentally, spiritually, physically, emotionally, intellectually. I promise to not let you get carried away with your playtime, to get involved with things that are bad for you, and to cultivate the things that are good for you. Because you really are yourself such a treasure. You yourself are as brilliant and incredible, and beautiful, and deserving of love, deserving of care, as any of the men you cherish. I am so sorry that I’ve been bad to you. Artemis: Thank you. It’s not your fault. It’s all written in the stars or in a book somewhere. I’m really glad that you can acknowledge this. I’m also really proud of you. You’re young to have realized this. Many people go their entire lives without ever even meeting their Artemis. The Fowl: I know, I’m so, so lucky to have you. Artemis: I’m lucky to have you.

[darksylvir]

Mikorei beauty and the beast headcanons? 😄

Your ask simultaneously delights me and calls me out, anon, because there is a MikoRei fairytale!au I’ve had on the back-burner forever–and it still shows no sign of actual progress. So maybe this’ll be an excuse to get my ass in gear…or to settle for throwing out vague plot points ^^;; If you’re looking for something that actually passes as a good piece, btw, @azii has done a lovely take on the Beauty and the Beast scenario here; if you’re ready for straight rambling, read on xD

–Munakata’s the Beast. At this point, just assume that in any fairy tale redux Suoh is going to be in the traditional ‘princess’ role; it’s my forever aesthetic. But also because I dig imagining Muna’s grace and elegance coming out of something like Guillermo del Toro’s Angel of Death from Hellboy 2. That’s pretty much how I envision him–wings, bones, misplaced eyes and limbs like thorns, the whole nine yards of grotesque.

–Suoh, on the other hand, grows roses. And camellias. Chrysanthemums. He’s scarily good with orchids, and pretty much everything else. The town is really too small to even make use of a florist, but he just does it because it’s the only way Anna gets to enjoy the one color she sees. When Izumo came back from university, he used the last of his big city grant money to lease a storefront, and their day-to-day is just keeping it above water.

–The town. I’m pretty much shamelessly ripping off the setting for Shiki–small, close-knit, buried in the mountains, and right in the shadow of an “abandoned” castle. Don’t go by the castle. There are old, warded torii gates on the paths–no one really remembers why, but it’s a superstitious kind of place and no one is prone to test their luck.

–Except, Anna has always been a curious girl. The old, flaking lacquer is a different kind of red, and she wants to capture all the shades she can. Aunt Honami’s always handled her with a loose rein, so she takes her camera and treks up the overgrown paths. Fearlessly.

–Stumbling upon the great stone walls does not surprise nor frighten her. Instead, she’s fascinated by the roses blooming in huge swathes across the walls. They’re almost the size of her head, and a color so rich it seems to burn. Too lush to be wild, but no one could be growing them here–she just wants one, to show Mikoto. Not that he wouldn’t believe her if she just told him, but they’re just–

–And that’s when a long, terrible shadow lands on the wall, nearly taking off her hand before she can as much as touch a petal.

–“A Beast,” she insists later, solemnly, as Totsuka bandages the sizeable gash on her arm. And, “I’m sure it was an accident. His claws were long, and his eyes hadn’t settled.” She nods to herself. “The roses would have been worse.”

–“Obviously,” Izumo says, after chaining three-quarters of a pack in around one quarter of an hour. “Obviously there are wild fucking animals in that ruin and why the hell nobody has condemned the damn place is another reason we should just cut our losses and–”

–Suoh just remembers the moment Anna walked into the shop, red leaking through the tight press of her fingers–and decides.

–Next day, the flower shop is closed. Doesn’t make a difference. His walk is quicker than hers; he doesn’t even finish his cigarette before he sees the wall, the roses, and something else that wasn’t there for her: an open gate.

–He goes in. He gets a job.

So, that’s the rough of it xD The nature of the curse and circumstances its casting is probably going to be heavily-influenced by the lovely retellings I’ve read from Robin McKinley and T. Kingfisher, but I’m thinking kitsune at the root. The roses are not to be trusted. As for the S4 character reimaginings: 

–Awashima is bonded to the castle, I’m still working out how–torn between manifesting in the wall carvings or connected, Rapunzel-style, with sentient hair xD

–Fushimi doesn’t seemed cursed, at first. But he never talks. Only tongue-clicks. Make of that what you will.

–Akiyama and Benzai are animated samurai armor; cliche, I know, but it fits them. Kamo is a disembodied, invisible fire-spirit that manifests in the kitchen. His daughter was caught up in the curse, and is in the body of one of those tea-serving automaton dolls. He can’t go near her, as the nature of his flames are unpredictable. Fushimi does the best he can with helping her around. Domyouji is a magnificent winged stallion; that, too, will probably make sense later.

–As for the rest, there is a collection of around eight or so large, disquietingly-shaped black rocks in the garden that Suoh has been contracted to maintain. They are not to be disturbed. He often catches Fushimi hovering, just at the edge of sight, like he’s making sure of it.

I know this probably leaves more questions than answers, but I don’t want to give a lot away for when this gets rolling. I write from a deep love of fairy tales and folklore, so this is one of those ideas that started as a bit of a joke and then expanded into a universe that I’ve sorta fallen in love with. I hope to share it with you guys eventally, and hope you find at least a smidge of the same enjoyment

[ridiasfangirlings]

1/2) Yata tells Fushimi that he needs to see and meet Yata's family. Fushimi says he knows them. Yata answers, no, you only know my parents (well, my mother and stepfather. Yata himself doesn’t know my biological father well), I’m talking about my ENTIRE family. It is a tradition to introduce the bride/groom to their family. You are my fiancé, which means you will soon become part of my family tree!

…why does this make me think of that old unfinished Sarumi fic where Yata was possibly in a cult XD Imagine Yata’s whole family is constantly having big boisterous reunions and Fushimi somehow never realized that most people don’t go visit their families that often, his baseline for family visits is underground so he has no idea what too much is either. Oh maybe this is the Yata stepdad side of the family, like his stepdad actually comes from a huge family and they like to get together a lot and of course they always introduce any new significant others too. The family was always really accepting of Yata but he still felt out of place because he wasn’t blood related to anyone there, and it’s not until post-ROK that he really realizes he was accepted all along and starts going back to reunions with his parents and siblings. 

So then when he and Fushimi get engaged Yata realizes he needs to introduce Fushimi to the rest of his family. Even Yata is smart enough to realize that this will be overwhelming for Fushimi so imagine him trying to be all cool about it, like yeah as my fiancée you just need to meet my family, no big deal. Fushimi clicks his tongue all I’ve met your family, your family has known me since middle school, and Yata gives this nervous laugh. Fushimi glares at him suspiciously and Yata’s like so now you need to meet the rest of my family. Fushimi’s like since when did you have a rest of the family and Yata’s all so funny story. 

Yata hurries to reassure Fushimi that it will be fine, his family isn’t picky and they’ll love whoever he brings with him (Fushimi’s all is that supposed to make me feel better, Misaki). Yata’s like anyway my mom and stepdad and siblings all love you so the rest of my family will too. It takes a while but he does finally manage to wrangle a promise out of Fushimi to come to the next family reunion, Yata’s like we don’t even have to stay you can just come with me and we’ll get some food and leave. As soon as Yata’s gone though Fushimi can only think about what a terrible idea this is and how much Yata’s going to regret it, there’s no way a big family like Yata’s would like Fushimi. He doesn’t know what Yata’s told them either, like will they all know how Fushimi broke Yata’s heart and was an asshole to him for years, will they all know that Fushimi wasn’t even good enough to be cared for by his own family, will this be like Homra all over again where he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do and won’t be able to breathe. 

The day of the reunion comes and imagine Yata and Fushimi  at the door to like the big restaurant or whatever that they’re all meeting at. Outwardly Yata actually looks like the one who’s so nervous he’s going to pass out, imagine he put on his nicest outfit (the red garbageman outfit of course) and he’s trying to look cool and put together. Fushimi meanwhile is slouching and complaining that they should just go home, Yata’s like no it’s fine they’re gonna love you. Fushimi looks at Yata and is like ‘what if they don’t.’ Yata’s all ‘huh?’ and Fushimi says it again, if they don’t love me what will you do. His voice is flat and emotionless, like he’s just asking about the menu, and Yata takes a moment to let that sink in. Yata’s finally like well if they don’t their loss, Fushimi’s like can you really say that so easily. Yata’s like fuck yes I can, he’s doing this because he wants Fushimi to have this family too but if they don’t like Fushimi then Yata doesn’t need their opinions — he wants Fushimi, and that’s all that matters. Yata says if it’s just his parents and siblings at his wedding that’s fine, the rest of the family will just have to miss out on how amazing Fushimi Saruhiko is. 

[ridiasfangirlings]

Saruhiko's daughter sobbing when he drops her at school for the first time because she thought he'd be there for her classes.

When it's time to leave she immediately runs to cling onto Saruhiko's leg and ask where he was while she's gone.

Why do I feel like Fushimi would be the one who’s most traumatized in this situation. Like he knows his kid needs to go to school, even though he himself still considers school stupid and useless he’s aware that he doesn’t have the temperament for home schooling at all. His kid seems excited about going to school for the first time anyway, she’s not upset or worried at all. Fushimi gets to walk her to school for the first time (Munakata and S4 are 100% there to see them off because this is too adorable to pass up, imagine Munakata patting them both on the head and telling them to have a good school day and Fushimi just deadpans I do have to get back to work Captain). His daughter is all skipping and holding his hand and Fushimi is just silently walking beside her. Everything is good until she realizes that she has to go to school alone and starts crying. I imagine poor Fushimi would be at a loss here, like obviously the thing to do is reassure her that he’ll be there after class but Fushimi has no idea what the obvious thing to do is because his parents never did the obvious things. I feel like Fushimi’s first instinct would be to just go ‘okay’ and take her home, like well if she doesn’t want to go he shouldn’t take her right. 

Luckily a kind teacher sees him sitting there looking unsure and steps in, greeting Fushimi’s daughter and being all reassuring to her that her dad will pick her up after school. The teacher leads Fushimi’s daughter into the building and imagine Fushimi standing there for a while still looking unsure, just silently worrying that maybe he did the wrong thing and what if his kid thinks he abandoned her somehow. Eventually he gets a call from Munakata asking how the drop off went, Fushimi immediately mutters ‘fine’ but he’s clearly on edge. When he gets back to work I imagine he doesn’t tell anyone that his daughter cried and didn’t want him to leave but Munakata at least kinda suspects and everyone can tell his mood is bad so they try to cheer him up with stories of being dropped off for their first day at school. Hidaka laughs as he’s like I remember crying and crying, Fushimi noticeably stiffens and Hidaka quickly adds but I had a great day and I didn’t get upset at my parents about it I was super fine, totally fine.

When Fushimi shows up at the end of the day to pick his daughter up imagine she immediately runs to him, clinging to his leg and asking where he was. Fushimi just stiffly responds ‘…at work…’, not really sure what else to say. He’s expecting his daughter to be upset, that maybe she’ll pull away from him or something, but instead imagine she smiles and hands him like a crumpled piece of construction paper covered in paint. She says she made him a picture at school, he should put it at his desk at work so he’s not lonely while she’s busy at school. Fushimi stares at her blankly and she takes his hand and starts telling him all about her day at school, Fushimi slowly finds himself relaxing and smiling slightly as he realizes that it really was fine after all.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Yata helps his little sister make chocolate for valentines and decided to make one he could give to Fushimi as well. March comes around and Fushimi has to find a white day present for Yata.

Imagine this post-ROK, Yata’s been spending more time at home with his family and reconnecting with his siblings. His mom asks him one day if he can stop by and watch Megumi for a few hours while they take Minoru to some school event and Yata says fine, he doesn’t mind. He thinks about asking Fushimi along but Fushimi’s busy with work so Yata goes by himself. As soon as he gets there Megumi just grabs his hand and drags him into the kitchen saying she needs his help. Yata’s mom tells him it’s fine but don’t ruin the kitchen as she’s on her way out that door, leaving poor Yata totally at a loss as to what’s happening. Megumi tells him that it’s almost Valentine’s Day and she wants to make chocolate for school (Yata has a protective big brother moment as he’s like wait is there a guy who dared to pursue my little sister, Megumi rolls her eyes and says it’s for her class — but maybe there’s a couple special chocolates she wants to make too). 

Yata agrees to help her and they start making chocolates and chatting. Megumi asks Yata if there’s anyone he wants to make chocolates for and Yata starts to laugh, saying girls give chocolates and anyway who would he be handing chocolate out to. The moment he says it though Fushimi’s face flashes through his mind and he suddenly gets all red. Megumi sees this and is all excited, asking who big brother likes and is it Saru. Yata can’t believe he’s so obvious even his little sister knows, but he sighs and admits that yeah, it’s Saruhiko. Now Megumi is even more excited, imagine they go from Yata showing her how to make chocolates to Megumi giving Yata all these tips on how to make the best chocolate for Saruhiko. Valentine’s Day arrives and Yata ends up on the steps of S4, blushing as he hands Fushimi a heart-shaped chocolate (meanwhile the S4 alphabet squad are huddled in the bushes watching and gossiping). 

Fushimi takes the chocolate and he and Yata get to have a little moment, Yata kissing him goodbye as he heads off to work and Fushimi left standing there holding this chocolate all baffled from being given affection. Things are fine until March when Hidaka excitedly walks by and asks Fushimi what he’s doing for Yata-san for White Day, Fushimi’s all ‘eh?’. Hidaka’s like you know, White Day, Yata gave you chocolate right. Fushimi suddenly realizes that he is now expected to get Yata a gift in return and he’s in crisis mode because what does Misaki even like besides Homra and skateboarding, what kind of presents do you get for someone you’re dating for White Day, why is this so stupid and hard why does he have to do this. He would like to just blow it off but he’s also vaguely aware that Yata’s always doing so much for him and wouldn’t it be shitty of him if he didn’t do this one small thing for Yata for White Day.

Fushimi starts looking for a gift, imagine the alphabet squad being all nosy and offering suggestions. He’s told people usually give white ribbons but that’s normally for girls isn’t it, so that’s no good for Yata. Imagine Fushimi thinking about that though, and on White Day he ends up handing Yata a white cord hair tie. Yata’s confused until Fushimi mumbles how he’s noticed Yata ties up his hair now for skateboarding competitions, so he just thought this would help and if Yata hates it and throws it away that’s fine it’s just a hair tie anyway. Yata’s immediately like no no I want it, I’m gonna wear it every competition from now on, just grinning ear to ear because Fushimi bought him a present.

[ridiasfangirlings]

diff people of the cast raging at video games 🫶

Munakata does not rage at video games, he crafts impeccably worded missives to the game companies letting them know about the deficiencies in their products. Munakata generally doesn’t strike me as someone who would rage at video games anyway, he’s actually having fun if he’s losing because then it gives him a chance to craft various strategies in order to win. On the other hand though if there’s like a glitch causing his loss I could see him being displeased and writing angry letters like an old man responding to the newspaper editorial section. Also I feel like he might at least find himself annoyed at online multiplayer games, like he expects everyone to act in the way he’s planned and when some edgy teenager says screw off old man and Leeroy Jenkins their way through a raid Munakata starts huffing irritably and pushing up his glasses.

Yata and Fushimi I think would be opposites in this, Fushimi just quietly stews in his spite while Yata is absolutely yelling at the screen and has probably destroyed more than a few controllers by throwing them into the wall. Like imagine the two of them on multiplayer and getting defeated, Yata’s all red in the face and leaning real close to the TV all you fuckers I’m gonna kick your ass. Someone trash talks him and he’s shouting back and berating teenagers, and if he loses a boss fight because he got caught unaware he almost punches a hole in the wall. Meanwhile Fushimi is just sitting there quietly, muttering under his breath. Yata gives him a look like you okay Saruhiko and then Fushimi gives the most twisted smile as he’s like I’m fine, preparing to utterly destroy anyone who stands in his way because he’s not getting defeated by a video game.

The Homra guys probably occasionally have raging at games moments, I bet Bandou brags about how he’s a professional gamer so he never loses his temper. Akagi’s like oh hey I just beat your score and Bandou’s immediately like the hell you did what the fuck. Imagine one day Totsuka asks to play and it’s some difficult PvP multiplayer online game, the Homra guys are like sure you can try it but just be warned these guys are brutal. The Homra alphabet all go through various stages of yelling and trash talk as they try to survive but Totsuka is just smiling and smiling. In the end it’s just Totsuka and Bandou left and Bandou’s talking about how he’ll take it easy on Totsuka and while he’s talking Totsuka’s player character just casually stabs Bandou’s in the back. Bandou is immediately crushed and Totsuka’s all sparkles and happiness as he’s like this was a fun game, you guys were right.

[ridiasfangirlings]

I've read most MiSaru fanfictions with Yata dying in the end, so... what if Fushimi was the one to die? How would it affect Yata on either timelines, like, before and after reconciliation?

Before reconciliation I think the most painful part for Yata would definitely be that they never reconciled and he never was able to understand why Fushimi left, and now there’s no way he’ll ever know. I think it would be especially hard for Yata if Fushimi died on some S4 mission and Yata doesn’t find out until afterward, like all of this happened while Fushimi was apart from him and he couldn’t even be there when Fushimi died. I absolutely see him yelling at Munakata about it if he can, like he probably has to be pried away even as Munakata just stands there and lets Yata yell. Having Homra around would help Yata a little but imagine worst case scenario where this happens like pre-MK or some time right around the end of S1, I feel like that would be the worst blow for Yata. There’s that whole part at the end of LSW where Yata looks over at Fushimi on the bridge and thinks that at least Fushimi is still alive, that they still have time to clash again and maybe come to an understanding once more — but if Fushimi is gone then Yata’s lost that, he can’t even be comforted by knowing Fushimi is still there even if they’re enemies. I feel like this would make Yata’s depression even worse, not just losing Mikoto and Totsuka but also the person he cared about most of all, and it’s like everything important has gone away from him.

Post-reconciliation would also be hard for him obviously, especially if things were going well and now it’s just over. I think Yata would be better equipped to handle the loss post-ROK but that wouldn’t make it any easier, because he’s still lost Saruhiko right after getting him back. The good side I think would be that Yata at least got to understand Fushimi this time and they were able to be together and make good memories, maybe Yata was even able to be by his side when he died so that Yata could properly say goodbye. I think he would still be distraught and grieving, because Fushimi is so important to him and Yata thought they’d have all the time in the world now, and once again he’s lost someone. At the same time though I feel like it would be tempered at least a little by the knowledge that they were able to have some time together and that Fushimi knew how Yata felt about him before he died, Yata was able to communicate his feelings and come to an understanding with Fushimi for the time that they had left.

[ridiasfangirlings]

highschool au yata and fushimi being forced to join the most bizarre clubs such as the dungeons and dragons club with the unsufferable "well actuallty-" nerds and the "anime club" only with guys who watch a.. different type anime

Imagine they’re like required to join a club and so they keep trying to pick the weird ones in the hope that no one else will be there and they can just hang out together, and instead they end up getting dragged into strange club activities. Like a Gakuen K style AU where there are dorms that everyone stays in, since they live on campus it’s considered an expectation that every student will join a club. Yata and Fushimi are freshmen who came from the same middle school where they were members of the going home club (well, Yata tried to join sports clubs his first year but everyone ignored him or complained about him, then he befriended Fushimi who refused to join any clubs so they would just go home together and hang out by themselves). Yata figures joining a club might not be too bad right, Fushimi clicks his tongue and grumbles about what a stupid requirement this is. Yata considers trying a sports club again but decides not to, because he knows Fushimi will struggle finding a club and Yata can’t leave Fushimi on his own.

Yata’s like well okay what if we find a club that doesn’t have anyone in it. He starts looking through the posted list of clubs and is like here, some kind of gaming club for nerds, you’ll fit right in Saruhiko. Fushimi doesn’t particularly find the idea of tabletop rpg club interesting but thinks it likely won’t be popular so he can just slack off and not do any club activities. When they join though they’re immediately grabbed by a group of nerds who place a bunch of game guides in front of them and expect them to memorize all the fantasy races and classes. When Yata haltingly tries to ask isn’t this a game club one of the kids pushes up his glasses and says this is an rpg club, actually. Yata’s like hey Saruhiko these guys kinda remind me of you and Fushimi tells him to shut up.

Next they try the anime club, Yata’s like well I like anime and sometimes you watch with me. When they step into the classroom though the door is covered by a black sheet and they’re hustled through by some classmates, told that they must swear to absolute secrecy. Yata’s doesn’t get why they have to swear to secrecy to watch anime but sure fine, which is when he finds himself face to face (or chest) with an extremely busty, half-clothed anime figurine of a girl in a barely-there bikini. Yata’s stuttering and getting flustered as it’s explained to him that this is their queen Marin-chan, here’s a clear file folder of her in her bikini for you to keep. Fushimi decides to remove Yata from the situation before he dies of blood loss.

They go back to look at the club list and Yata sees one for a Ninja Club, maybe that will be cool. There’s also a Anything Goes Hobby club, that one might be good too. They decide to split up, Fushimi will check out the ninja club and Yata will go to the hobby club. Fushimi steps into the ninja club, takes one look at student council president Munakata sitting there at a desk hopefully waiting for new club members and turns right back around. Yata has better luck, upperclassman Totsuka is super happy to have someone to help him with his hobbies like baking, cheese making and constructing the Taj Mahal out of toothpicks. Fushimi is less interested but Totsuka figures if they don’t like hobbies the Red club is always looking for members, and now Yata is interested. (Meanwhile Munakata makes a note to learn more about the adorable underclassman who was clearly too shy to join the Ninja Club, he seems intriguing.)

[ridiasfangirlings]

What would Saruhiko do if Yata began to sound like Niki?

Like…physically or just in spirit? I’m assuming the same kind of tone, like maybe this is some kind of Strain issue that makes your loved one into the person you hate the most. Fushimi is hit without realizing it and afterward he goes to Yata’s place to relax. He’s got this itchy feeling in the back of his mind, like something’s off, but he isn’t really sure why — he feels anxious opening the door and he knows he shouldn’t, because this is Misaki and he’s always relaxed around Misaki.

That’s when as soon as the door opens he hears this distinctive ‘GYA HA HA’ and his whole body freezes up. He reflexively reaches for a knife and that’s when Yata comes into view, this crooked smile on his face as he greets his ‘little monkey.’ I imagine Fushimi immediately attacking him, thinking that Niki’s soul has like inhabited Yata’s body somehow but it’s still Yata, he’s just talking like Niki. Yata taunts Fushimi for getting angry, like you’re so amusing when you act like this monkey. Fushimi’s just at a loss, imagine Yata teasing him like hey why don’t we do something fun, like see who can jump off the roof quickest, I’ll give you a push. 

I imagine this being pretty traumatic for Fushimi and I think ultimately he’d have to leave for his own mental stability, like he just slams the door on a laughing Yata and goes back to S4. Yata keeps texting him though, little taunts and wondering why his monkey is in such a grumpy mood, and Fushimi ends up throwing the PDA against the wall. He knows this isn’t the way Yata usually acts and I think that would tip him off that something’s wrong, but even knowing that it’s hard to reconcile the knowledge with the emotions surging through him — Yata’s supposed to be someone he loves after all, and he can’t stand hearing those kinds of words and that man’s laughter coming out of Yata’s mouth. Even when he finally manages to reverse the Strain power and things go back to normal I could see Fushimi being a little jumpy, Yata’s so upset and apologizing for upsetting him and Fushimi keeps sayings it’s fine, it wasn’t Yata’s fault, but Yata can see that there’s a distance between them again and he has to try and bridge it slowly to keep Fushimi from bolting again.

[ridiasfangirlings]

post rok sarumi after they have completely lost their powers and now when they fight they just slap each other or pull each others hair like little children

Isn’t that in essence what they do anyway XD Somehow I imagine Fushimi being a biter, like he and Yata get into lots of good-natured fights even after making up and once he doesn’t have powers anymore Fushimi’s been known to just lean over and bite Yata’s arm or something. By this point they probably don’t fight as much, like it’s more verbal sparring than physical, but every now and again they’ve been known to pull each other’s hair or clothes and yell a lot (please imagine them in the middle of the street yanking at each other’s clothes while passersby try not to stare). I don't actually think they’d do much slapping besides maybe a swat on the head as needed, like when Fushimi thinks Yata’s being an idiot he’s not above swatting Misaki in the head and vice versa, nothing too rough just a quick ‘don’t be stupid’ hit. But then there are the times Yata thinks they’re doing more of a toned down fight and Fushimi will bite him and Yata’s like what the hell Saruhiko were you raised in a barn don’t bite people, Fushimi just shrugs languidly and says he needed to get Misaki’s attention. Yata pulls on Fushimi’s bangs in retaliation and soon they’re fighting like school kids, neither one willing to be the first to give up and admit a loss.

[ridiasfangirlings]

following my previous ask, imagine the same situation but in reverse, so this time we get docile saruhiko

Docile Fushimi would just be scary, imagine him all calm and agreeable and not even clicking his tongue or rolling his eyes or anything. The alphabet squad would probably be in a total panic, imagine them returning to S4 after Fushimi’s been hit with the Strain like it’s an emergency we think Fushimi-san’s been bodysnatched, look he’s smiling it’s scary make it stop. Even Munakata is thrown a little off balance by docile Fushimi, like on the one hand this is a good way to get Fushimi to play puzzles with him but at the same time a Fushimi who won’t even talk back or speak his annoyance is rather displeasing in its own way. Ultimately Munakata decides to give him the day off, because he’s scaring the rest of the squad too much and no one really knows how to handle him.

Fushimi decides it was very thoughtful of Captain to give him the day off and doesn’t argue (the squad are like what if he’s dying he didn’t even argue about all the work that still needs to be done), deciding to go for a walk all on his own. As he’s out he ends up running into Yata and imagine he just ignores Yata entirely, it’s Yata who notices that Fushimi just walked past him. On the one hand it’s good that Fushimi didn’t want to fight but Yata’s still really confused, like maybe Saruhiko didn’t see me. Imagine he’s out with Kamamoto who’s like let’s just keep walking then, we don’t need to get into a fight with him, but Yata’s like nope I’m gonna show that traitor that he can’t just ignore me. Kamamoto sighs and decides to go on ahead by himself.

Yata moves so he’s right in front of Fushimi as he’s like ‘Saruhiko,’ all threatening, and Fushimi just looks up and says ‘oh, Misaki.’ Yata’s like don’t use my first name and Fushimi says ‘sorry, Yata.’ Yata’s like that’s right you’re—wait did you just say sorry. Fushimi's like you don’t want me to use your first name right Yata, so I’ll stop. His tone is perfectly sincere and Yata’s like wait you are Saruhiko right. Fushimi says he hopes he isn’t bothering Yata, if so he’ll go walk somewhere else. Yata huffs that yeah you are bothering me and Fushimi's like oh sorry I’ll go this way then. Yata is just at a loss, he doesn’t know if he’s being made fun of or what. He’s also starting to get really worried though, like Saruhiko you’re okay right. Fushimi says he’s fine and thanks Yata for his concern, Yata’s like you know what why don’t we go to the hospital together just in case.