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aritsukemo · 1 month ago

Note

I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! ( Though I am sad you're ill, I hope you make a speedy recovery and get some, probably, much needed sleep! 😁✨

SO SO SO I WANTED TO START TRYING A NEW WAY OF WRITING AND I'M GLAD YOU SEEM TO LIKE IT!! While I was sick, I read a Lyney-centric fic ( Which literally left me in such shambles that I couldn't/haven't finished it yet ) that used memories to essentially describe everything about Lyney, Lynette, Freminet, and the others and their relationship and situation leading up to the present, and while I failed miserably in doing the same this time around, I'm glad I, at least, satisfied you!

Unnecessary Fun Fact, but the first flashback was initially supposed to be a sorta foreshadowing as I wanted Reader to have some kinda involvement in Kazuha's 'death' but as time passed, I scrapped the idea all together and that's how the fic turned out the way it did! :)

AND I'M SOOO RELIEVED I DID HIS CHARACTER JUSTICE CAUSE I LITERALLY HAVEN'T SEEN OR HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT KAZUHA SINCE THE SUMMER ODYSSEY AND I LOW-KEY FORGOT HOW HE ACTS- 😓

I still think that I could've done better, hence my comment about it not being up to par, but it brings a smile to my face to see you gush over this! Glad I was able to meet your expectations and I hope you get better soon!!

ALSO TAG ME IN WHATEVER YOU WRITE THIS WEEKEND!! I'LL DEF PEEP!!

HELLOOOOOO IT’S MEEEEEEEE

GENSHIN REQ FOR KAZUHA WITH A READER WHO’S SICK & THEY’RE CHILDHOOD BESTIES <33

THANKUTHANKUTHANKU IF U DO THIS I JS FNSKDNNDKSKSNDKSKSKDKSKX

LOVE UR WORKS BTW <333333‼️🥰💕💞

Sickly Hallucinations | Kaedehara Kazuha

Kazuha Kaedehara x Sick reader ( @nursedflowers / @kazusys )

Summary: After being bedridden for days, it seems that you have started to hallucinate the worse thing possible; your dead best friend.

Warnings: Reader is sick, and because of that, snot is mentioned in a sorta detailed way. Abstract descriptions ahead ( I don't know why I describe the simplest things the way I did.. ) Reader is also avid on believing they're hallucinating seeing and hearing Kazuha. ( Spoiler Alert, they're not ) A lot of crying and reader breakdown more than once, but there's a happy ending I swear! With all that said, you have been warned! <3

A/N: HERE IT IS NURSED, AFTER WAY TOO LONG OF MAKING YOU WAIT!! 😖 I'm sorry if this is not up to par. I had an idea going into this but completely lost it by the end so I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense or the ending seems suddenly or anything! I truly didn't mean for it to end up that way!

"This is so stupid!" A frustrated cry sounded throughout the bare room, bouncing off the walls—the metal swords on the wall in particular—and resonating throughout the ear canal's of a certain platinum blonde who was, partially, the reason for such anger.

"You almost had me there at the end. You truly are skilled with the blade, Y/n," He complimented politely. If anyone else was in the situation with the future leader of the prestigious Kaedehara Clan helping them up and blowing sweet words in their ear, they'd probably swoon, even with the rumors of their deteriorating fortune making one believe that his flowery words were for mere show. Even if it was true, none of that mattered to you. In fact, in the face of such petal-soft kindness, your blood boil over like a raging inferno.

But despite that, all you could muster to do to that soft face dressed in a gentle smile was a gruff at it and mumble, "Shush," to which your kind friend spared you the courtesy of giggling in your face and instead silently complied to your wish...only to immediately go against that wish seconds later.

"I mean it, truly. If it were a situation where you and I were fighting for real as enemies, for example, and stood forth one another wielding our blades for the sake of our own ideals, you surely would've bested me."

You found yourself frowning at his statement. Enemies? The thought immediately stained it's ink on your heart and made it clench from the poison. If something so obscene were to occur in some hell-filled alternate reality, you doubt you'd be able to lift your sword in his direction or even stare him in the eyes with hues darkened by hate. Not Kazuha. Not your dear friend who seemed to be the only one willing to befriend someone such as yourself—who's family was feared all across Inazuma due to built up rumors and fabrications people have thought up over the millennia.

..But you couldn't say that to him. Especially not after a defeat so embarrassing that your parents surely would turn their noses away from disappointment at your meek swordsmanship.

And so, you decided to play nonchalance and roll your eyes, mumbling out an uncaring, "Whatever.. As if that'd seriously happen."

"And what if it did?" He egged on as innocently as a little kid asking their parents how they were created. You found your mouth moving before your mind could process and filter your words, causing this aggressive affirmation to leave your throat.

"It wouldn't. I'd never let that happen."

"You can't control fate, Y/n. If me and you parted to walk different paths—" And you cut him off—something you've never once done to him before.

"It wouldn't happen! I'd strike down the Shogun myself before I'd even think of raising my sword to you for anything other than a friendly display of our swordwork!" And you pause, your face growing wide at the surprise of your own words. Kazuha's face seems to mirror yours, albeit he still managed to keep his expression civil and appropriate even when it started turning into a cherry blossom tree.

"..I feel the same way," He confesses sheepishly before his smile returns and he brings his finger to his lips and spoke in a lowered tone, "But, lets keep that amongst ourselves. 'Wouldn't want our parents carrying our words away, now would we?"

And to spare the little dignity you had remaining, you turn your face away—which was burning to the point of tingling—and nod your head.

"Ye- Yeah..whatever."

A gruff, nasally hack resonates from the depth of your chest, shooting itself up your congested throat and forcing itself outwards which caused a bit of that congestion to splatter into the tissue you had curled into your hands. As you came up for air, you glanced down only to immediately revert your gaze away from the snotty liquid—which was definitely not the color it was suppose to be—that had now coated the once clean tissue out of fear of throwing up the little bit of lunch the Traveler insisted you eat.

It had happened yet again. This counts the..what? Seventh, maybe ninth time you've daydreamed about the dead since you fell bedridden? It raises the question of why? Why is it that you're thinking about him now of all times? Why were these memories only now flooding your mind years after his death? Deep down, you knew the answers but chose—no, refused to acknowledge them. You've done that a lot since the day you found out he died. Maybe that's why this is happening at a random time such as this. Maybe it's simply because your mind and body has been weakened by this devilish illness.

Whatever it was, you hated it, and even more so you utterly despised your mind for bring him up after so many years just to make you suffer even more than you already are. You despised it for making you remember his face in such vivid detail. His laugh, his smile, his gorgeous rubies for eyes—all of it.

But, unfortunately, hating something doesn't make it go away. No matter how upset you get, your mind still makes it's way back to the cool touch of his hand caressing yours as he'd direct you on hard-to-master sword maneuvers. It went back to the peaceful warmth his hugs would bless you with whenever you snuck into his room during one of your sleepovers to cuddle after a nightmare you had.

It was all so stupid, you thought. More so now that it seems that your daydreams have turned into full blown hallucinations.

"You look worse for wear, my dear friend," His soothing voice, deepened from maturity, echoed in your ears. You closed your eyes and laid back down. If you didn't amuse it, the illusion would surely grow bored and go away.

Even with the plan in mind, it was difficult to follow through with your words. Upon hearing the familiar tune of his warm chuckle, you find yourself biting your lip. Even after so many years, it still sounds the same. It still holds that sense of tranquility that has brought you peace many times in your childhood.

..But you suppose the reason as to why makes sense. After all, many hallucinations are stemmed from the hallucinator's memories. Of course it'd sound the same as you'd remember it'd be.

"I'm sorry, did that upset you? Please believe me when I say I had no ill will behind my comment, dear. You still look as radiant as you did when we were kids."

Your lip is starting to bleed from how hard your digging your teeth into the supple skin. It stings, but the pain doesn't stop you from doing it. You can't stop. You need to distract yourself and not think about anything pertaining to him. That's the only way this delusion will—

You suck in a breath. One sharp, airy, and shaky and caused by the startling feeling of snowflakes falling upon your exposed skin. Though you pretended to not notice it, you found yourself shocked by the feeling of his fingertips freezing your once burning skin over just as it did when you were younger.

..But how was it possible? Hallucinations shouldn't feel so real, right?

"Y/n, can you look at me? I wish to cherish the sight of your face after being stripped of it for so long," The request came as a tender plea and you found your body conflicted upon hearing it. Part of you wanted so desperately to indulge in your delusions—to let it sweep you away and never bring you back—and yet the more reasonable part of you was screaming at you to do everything and anything but but listen. Your mind was at a bloody, cold war with itself and it thrashed your body every which way until it reacted by setting everything ablaze.

The heat shot up your body and in a desperate attempt to quell the uncomfortable feeling, you curled into yourself—curled away from the cooling touch—until your knees hit your chest. Your effort was quickly proven to be futile as the flames continued it's assault on your organs—your skin—where it went about scorching away every last drop of air in your lungs before finally reaching your face. It heated the already warm blood in your veins, causing them to singe your poor flesh. It soon became an unbearable wildfire that your mind couldn't put out no matter how much it drowned the flames in watered down thoughts—not cooling no matter how many tears were shed.

"Don't cry.." You felt it again. Against your will, you felt those snowy fingertips cool the firestorm that was running wild under your skin for just a moment as they wiped at your now wet face. Even worse when it's accompanied by warm words in your ear that told you, "You don't have to cry. Not anymore. I'm here.."

And in a moment of vulnerability, you unconsciously indulged in your delusions and began to scream, "No you're not!"

You suck in a sharp breath—and thick snot in the process—as you shakily repeat in a quieter tone, "No you're not.. You're dead. ..Kazuha is dead!"

"Kazuha is..what?"

Your dumbstruck utterance echoed through the ears of everyone at the table—that of which included your father, who's face only further sullened upon hearing it.

"Kazuha is..dead," He repeated, although it sounded as if he was forcing himself to. As if he couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

"He was trailed all throughout the city by samurai after his confrontation with the shogunate. When they finally cornered him, he drew his blade. I heard the battle was a hard one fought..but he..—"

"You're lying," You muttered.

"I'm not," Your father retorts before pausing and sucking in a breath, "Look, Y/n. I know that this is hard for you to accept deeming how close you two were, but—"

"You're lying," You repeat, this time much louder. As if your words had been turned up by a speaker, "..You're lying," You repeat. Shaking your head roughly to the point where your hair slips from behind your ears and falls messily down and around your face as a result. It was a silly thought, but it was as if your hair were trying to spare your pride, your dignity, by shielding your face from the onlookers that so happy to be your close family.

"Y/n, please.." Your mother stands to her feet, perfectly poised even at times like this, as she strides across the room and up to you. The haori and tail end of her kimono flows elegantly in her wake, making her look like some goddess walking along the sun—not that you cared to bear witness to any of that.

Her soft, smooth fingers—never once laid hands to a sword—slide along one shoulder to the edge of the other where she then pulls you close to her chest. She was even kind enough to rub circles into your back for a moment before whispering, "Don't do this.. Not here."

Her words were paper thin which quickly tore soon after she began speaking, proof that she was desperately trying to keep her own emotions in check herself..

But her shaky composure didn't register to you nor did her sincere words or genuine sadness. Your ear took in what she had said and your brain tore it apart and gave it an entirely new tone and overall meaning. One that was rather insincere in the face of your obviously grieving state. One that made it seem as if she didn't care for the news. Or rather, she cared more about saving face than anything else and that angered—no, infuriated you. Like a furnace with too much wood inside of it, a fire roared inside you and soon made your body unbearable hot.

Before you knew what you were doing, you had pushed your mother away with all your strength.

"Shut up! You don't get to tell me how to act in a time like this!" Your father and uncle immediately shot up. Racing over from where they once sat to your mother on the ground and helping her up like the damsel she was. Your father then turned to you, his eyes filling with his own fiery fury.

"Y/n! Control yourself! How you're acting right now is unfit of our name!" He commanded, and his words hit you like a ton of bricks to the face.

You just couldn't wrap your head around any of it. How your family stared on at you in shock as if you had just committed some heinous crime. How none of them had so much as a frown or a tear rolling down their cheek. How they're fussing at you as if your entire world didn't just fall apart over a few simple words.

You couldn't grasp how they managed to stay so composed when the world was beginning to turn grey before your eyes. You didn't understand it and that's what overwhelmed you more than anything else. It was all too much to handle. You felt like you had just been letting go to be swept away by a sea of flames. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to scream or sob. You couldn't decide on anything in that moment, in fact.

And so, you acted on the first thing your body could muster to accomplish and that was to run. Shooting up from your seat, you turned and bolted out of the room, ignoring your father screaming for you to come back..

Silence seeps into the room once again, chasing after the ghost of your echo until it took over the entire room once again. You waited, listening as best you can with your own thundering snivels drowning your ears like a river that was once blocked by a dam...but you heard nothing. You found yourself letting out a shaking sigh of relief as you realize that it was finally over. It seemed that the hallucination was finally gone.

Or so you thought.

"..Is that what you've been believing all this time?" That sigh of relief is immediately sucked back in through your stuffed nose. Along with the warm breaths against your ear, his icy touch returns, and this time, it had been lowered down to your waist.

You feel icicles dig into your flesh just hard enough that you're unable to remove them—which you suppose that, to the typical person, his grip would be near bone-crushing.

But again, it makes sense. It makes sense that he knows that you've gotten stronger over the years. It makes sense how he knows exactly how tightly to grab you without going to far and causing his touch to hurt. It makes sense because he isn't actually here. This is all in your head. Just your imagination..

It's just your imagination. It's just your imagination. It's just your imagination. It's just—

"I was trying to avoid this, but since I now know what taints your thoughts and prevents you from welcoming me into your arms with stride, I have no other choice.. Please, forgive my roughness this once."

Another gasp leaves you—a painful one that sliced through the depths of your achy, red, irritated throat in order to get out—as you're suddenly flipped on your back and pinned before you can fight back. Not knowing what else to do, your nails come up to desperately dig into the icebergs that envelope and cool your fiery cheeks.

"Y/n," He sings your name just as he did when you two were kids. It only makes the fire grow inside you, and ultimately, cause the dam inside you to burn over and allow water to seep through the gap made all over again.

The flurry of sadness is overwhelming, almost as overwhelming as how you felt when you first heard the news of his sudden and untimely death. That said, you were completely overwhelmed and found yourself begging, pleading with your hallucination, saying, "Stop.. Please go away.. He's gone. I've accepted that a long, long time ago so please—!"

"Y/n," Despite feeling as though you were falling, spinning, tumbling in the air, his voice easily made your landing feel soft and relieving, like pushing out a much needed breath you didn't know you were holding in, "Open your eyes and all will be made clear. You'll be at peace that way."

"No! I'm not going to! You can't make me!"

You refuse to let your mind trick you. You're not letting all that effort—all that work you put into building that dam over and over again—be for nothing!

You aren't opening your eyes. You can't..because if you do and he's not there, this fire inside you will turn into something untamable and the dam will crumble and never be able to be built again. Your mind would be a complete disaster that you wouldn't be able to reconstruct for at least a century or two.

After a while, you hear him sigh but you quickly force it out through one ear. Unfortunately as soon as you do that, his voice is shoved into your other ear once again.

"So stubborn.." His voice was vibrated by the chuckle that was weaved into it. It sounded so inviting, so addictive, but—against your subconscious will—you threw it out of your head as more of his florid words soon came to replace the ones lost, "It seems you truly haven't changed..mentally anyways."

The icebergs on your skin were, at last, removed from your face, but you were given little time to relish in your relief before you felt a weight lift off your body, your bedside dip, and those icy fingers make contact with your sensitive scalp.

"Having you in my arms like this brings me back," He said softly, "I remember...it would almost always rain whenever I visited your home and despite how often it happen, you'd always be petrified of the sounds the rain produced," You feel his fingers glide through your hair, separating the strands with his fingers with ease as he continued.

"After everyone went to sleep, you would always sneak into the guest room where I resided and I'd end up holding you just like this until you fell asleep," He then chuckles, and in doing so, puffs his breath against the shell of your ear, "Your parents would always get so upset about it, but that never stopped you from doing it. Nothing ever stopped you from doing as you pleased..so why allow your own fear to do so now?"

"Shut up—!" "You were the bravest person to me when we were kids, Y/n," He confessed, cutting you off, "You were just like your swordsmanship; no matter what you were taught otherwise, your blade always followed the same technique you created for yourself. It never changed, no matter the opponent or obstacle it faced."

"Shut up!" You yelled, yet it came out more of loud croak due to how hoarse your throat was at that point. You were like a scared little kid under the covers all over again. The only difference now was that it was harder to hide, at least in this moment with the ghost of your dead friend cuddling your backside and whispering nostalgia into your ears.

"You were strong. And you still are, I can tell even after all these years apart from you," He said, "So please, show me that bravery once again. Take the last step and look at me. Please.."

You don't know what happened. You had been so hellbent on doing the opposite of what he asked for this entire time only to obey at the last moment because of a slight tremor in his tone. You had been persuaded into obedience by a slight crack in his voice. A mere whimper. You had threw caution to the wind—at the risk of your mental and physical health—simply because of a past urge to comfort your best friend in his rare moment of weakness.

Your eyes twitched before your mind could process what you were doing. Eyes once sealed tightly by your tears—which were serving as your last line of defense at this point and your last chance to rethink this, flip back over, and continue to ignore the voice in your ear until sunrise—crack open, allowing the light of your to seep into your vision of who know how long of not being able to.

And when it finally happened, when you finally opened your eyes and were able to see the light again, you were reduced to hysteric sobs. It wasn't because you had been proven right though. It was even worse, you had been proven wrong. Kazuha laid right beside you alive and in the flesh. He looked just as he did all those years ago and you just couldn't bear the sight without breaking down.

At least now you can properly relish in the feeling of his touch—in the feeling of his arms caging around you—without feeling as though you were deluding yourself.

"You..dumb idiot.." You sniffled out as his grip on you tightened, "You big..dumb moron.. You had me thinking for so long.. I grieved over you..for so, so long.. I-"

"Shh, shh.." He shushed, his lips now tickling your forehead with his cool breath and fluttery words as he mumbles into your skin, "I'm sorry, my dear. I never meant to cause you such pain. Never. If I had the choice, I would've found you a long time ago.."

He mumbled other things as well, but you honestly could care less what he had to say at this point. Not even if he professed a hidden motive to end your life. You couldn't bring yourself to care about anything, not when you've finally been able to prove that dreadful thought you pushed in the very depths of your mind wrong. Not when such a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Not when the warmth that surrounds you has finally been confirmed to be from the one you had longed to see, feel, and reminisce with for literal ages.

The only thing you were listening to, at this point, was the thoughts telling you to stay like this in his arms and let his voice serenade you for an eternity.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

#ari reposts #kazusys #ari talks #your commentary always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside 🙈

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aritsukemo · 2 days ago

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I knew I made the right decision coming here.

Like, all day I've just been CRAVING scara/wanderer content bc it's his bday but I haven't had the time til now and I'm sooo glad I decided to make the first stop here!

Though I came here strictly for Wanderer, I ended up reading this entire thing because I just loved it so freaking much!!! >.<

Like, this with Laufey playing in my headphones and some snacks? Truly out. of. this. WORLD!!

Your aesthetic of writing scratches my brain in the best way like idk how to explain it but after reading one of your works I leave just smiling and giddy yet yearning for more!

As much as I love it when ppl portray Wanderer ( more so Scaramouche ) as the sassy, kinda ( or very ) mean, sarcastic person he is, I love it when ppl write him like this. Someone gentle when it comes to love bc he's new to the feeling of it and fears doing something that'd drive it away. Some may argue with me and say, "Well, it's ooc for him to act like that," but I can perfectly imagine him naturally being soft with his s/o bc he's scared they'll break! I think it fits especially if they're human seeming as he sees humans as fragile creatures! :)

I think I'll stay over here for a bit and read some more of your writing to quench this thirst I have, hope you don't mind! :D

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 ‘𝐌 — 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀, 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈, 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎, & 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

short kissing headcannons w some of my favorite anemo boys :]

kazuha’s kisses are probably just the softest. a mix between expected and unexpected, depending on how he’s feeling and what reactions he wants from you.

would so gracefully pull you in and set his lips lightly on yours, only deepening it when you step up.

gently rubs your back or plays with your hair while kissing you, absolutely loving the way you fit in his arms. <3

(definitely makes poetry or music based off of your interactions)

venti’s playful. he’d sneak up behind you to scare you only to kiss you on the lips when you whip your head around to see who grabbed your back.

will climb you like a koala when he wants to just be near you on stressful days or when he’s had a few drinks just to kiss and hug you tightly.

and when he’s in his barbatos form? he will absolutely trap you with his wings and coddle you all day (or the other way around, he doesn’t mind). <3

xiao’s naturally curious about the different ways you could kiss your significant other and how you’d react if he did them with you.

always nervous to kiss you on the lips; oftentimes leaving small, fleeting pecks of affection which aren’t enough for the both of you. his first time doing it made him disappear immediately afterwards, the embarrassment being too much for him until you summoned him back (he definitely subconsciously smiled when he was gone though).

will eventually grow into the habit of kissing you longer, but you’ll have to be the one to lead first. <3

scaramouche’s kisses are unbelievably soft at first. it’s like he’s afraid he’s going to damage your lips or something. he eventually gets used to being more rougher, though (with a lil coaxing).

he may be mean, but he’s gentle handling you. and despite his initial reactions, he loves it when you ruffle his hair and kiss all over his face (ESPECIALLY when he’s feeling sensitive).

you always seem to make his mean shtik fade away with one kiss to his lips— seriously, he really wonders how you do that. <3

#ari reads #kazusys #reading while sick is the best feeling I swear #kazuha kaedehara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader

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aritsukemo · 25 days ago

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The Oddities of Human Nature | Kabukimono

Kabukimono x Feminine Male Reader

Warnings: Wooo, where do we start? Major character death ( Reader ), implied suicide ( It's up in arms, but there are hints in the fic that reader may have drowned themselves in a lake ), self harm implied, sexual assault is loosely referenced ( only one sentence mentions it and I don't go into detail at all as to not trigger anyone ), themes of depression is referenced all throughout this fic, lots of blood is mentioned towards the end and I go into depth ( or try to ) in describing death so gore warning, the timeline is all fucked up but for the sake of the fic making sense, this takes place before Wanderer's three betrayals, reader uses they/him pronouns, finally, long story ( around 10k words ) under the cut. With all that said, happy reading!

A/N: This was a big hill for me to cross, but I'm glad I managed to do it! I juggled a lot of elements that I'm not familiar with so I'm sorry if this is all over the place. That aside, I found that a lot of the songs I listened while I was writing matched this fic pretty well! ( ..I also realized out that I maaaayyy have spilled a a little bit of myself and my personal struggles into Y/n, but don't read into that too much, okay? Okay. ) This fic is on the darker side of what I normally write, but I hope all who peep will enjoy themselves! :D ...Now I'ma go finish this finals project I got before I fuck up my grade-

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys, and @saioratral

Humans are odd creatures. They do things that may otherwise inconvenience them for absolutely no reason.

They could have a broken leg, but will still find the time to entertain friends by going out. They could be holed up in their room doing important work, but will still stop and greet their beloved when they arrive home. They could stumble upon a body in a lake and still fish it out and attempt to resuscitate it. It's strange, but what's even stranger are those humans. You know, the ones who would do things like that for a complete stranger without batting an eye.

"Are you alright?" A soft chirp echoed—one like a feather that surprisingly didn't get swept away by the harsh winds.

It was nothing like her voice.

Upon looking up, indigo hues fill with intricate floral patterns weaved delicately in a circle. Its varying colors twist and intertwine, filling the circle and providing shade and leaving those who fall under it to marvel at its beauty—which didn't soil or gray despite the downpour of rain that hit it.

That said, having been completely consumed in the art of the umbrella, it took another soft call to snap out of the trance..only to be sucked right back into it upon gazing up.

"I noticed that you have been sitting in the rain for quite some time now. That isn't healthy, you know?" Their voice matched their features; smooth like a porcelain doll, but not nearly as tough as one; gentle, just like the silk that covered their body.

"Do you have nowhere to go?" Upon hearing the question, the boy’s lips—which were formerly tucked into a neat line—dipped. It was unnoticeable against his pale skin, but the tender eyes that stared down at him seemed to be sharp like a hawks' and noticed it right away.

"I suppose that means yes."

Their hand reached out to him after saying that and he found himself leaning away instinctively, making him susceptible to the sky's sorrow which drowned his already slick hair in even more chilling rain.

He's immediately saved again, and this time, he was able to watch his savior in action as they tilt their hand, tilting their gorgeous artwork forward enough to completely shield him again albeit at the cost of their own protection.

The rain took pleasure in dousing their hair, deepening it's color a little from the sheer amount it intakes. Ultimately, it's unable to take all of it and falls down on all sides, dripping down their skin, their eyelashes, nose, and lips, to where all the water meets at a point at their chin and drops from it to the wet soil at their feet like a leaky faucet.

Nevertheless, he watched a smile stretch across their face. A sight that he had begun to believe could only look so beautiful on a wandering snow spirit.

"Please, young sir. Come with me. I have a place that could shield the both of us from the rain for the night.."

And in a trance, he—though tentatively—reaches forward and puts his hand in theirs. The warmth that touched him in that moment immediately shattered the illusion that hypnotized him and he blinks upon finding himself being tugged along by the hand. It brought on a perplexed swirl in the abyss he called a stomach and spurred him to ask the golden question, "Why are you doing this?"

And that question earned him another golden smile, unfortunately only for a quick second when they glanced back at him. It was never answered, and despite that, it didn't bother him.

Nothing did in that moment as the only thing he could focus on was the heat that spread throughout his hand which radiated from their palm.

Humans are odd creatures. They go against the purposes given to them at birth for the simplest reasons.

"You're a man?" Was the question that filled the silence, his words filled with his almost accusing tone at the face of their casual confession.

You didn't mind, putting on the smile of a saint as tanzanite hues scrutinize and judge you as if you were some complex painting in a museum.

"Yes, I am," You answered simply, and he once again, eyes you up and down with eyes full of disbelief. As if you had just revealed that you had a second head or something. You weren't offended. Compared to the other stares you've been given in the past, his seemed rather merciful.

"Why do you dress like that if you're a boy?" He asks after a while; another rather offensive question that he asks with utmost innocence.

"Because it makes me feel nice," You reply simply, and to that, your new friend looked utterly perplexed. As if you had just given him intricate, complex instructions on how to defeat the shogunate. From that reaction, you assume he was probably raised in a rather conformist household.

That said, his genuine confusion felt like a breath of cool air hitting your face after venturing days in a scorching desert, as sad as that is to admit.

"Where are your weapons? Your armor? Your mannerisms and speech let me know you come from a noble home, so where are your servants and concubine? What do you do for work?" He shot out questions as if he only had a few grains of sand left in his hourglass. It was like he feared that if he didn't ask all his questions now—and all at once—he'd never get an answer to them. Not that you'd be so cruel as to leave your curious new acquaintance so bewildered.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I don't have any such means of protection," You start off slowly, but as your eyes trail down at the two needles in your slender hands—needles which had thin threads of silk woven around the points of them—you found yourself chuckling to yourself, "Though if you'd ask my father, he'd tell you that my reason for that is because I lack the determination and courage to tread the path of a proper warrior — He was a high-ranking samurai for the majority of my youth, you see.."

"As for the servants and..consorts…they're really not my thing. I find bossing someone around and using people to flaunt my own status and wealth to be rather brutish. Though, I will admit I'm quite familiar with the practices. Heh, I was practically raised by my fathers' wives and female servants growing up. Maybe that's why.."

You pause, and in the end, you shake your thought away instead of voicing the rest of it aloud. It wasn't important to the conversation at hand anyways.

"Digressing from that, my ways of making money aren't as noble as my family's either. In fact, one would say it's quite pitiful in comparison; once a week, I go out into the nearby town and I sell my creations. Stuffed animals, knitted clothing, excess crops, and the like. I don't make all the money in the world, but I make more than enough to get by as you can see," And you flick your wrist absentmindedly at one of the corners of your room, mindlessly gesturing at whatever filled the space to better prove your point.

Your guest had been struck silent once again. It seemed he was still rather muddled. You understand it. Like many you've encountered, you were probably an enigma to him, one willing to go against all that has been taught and practiced for centuries just because of simple ideations and pleasures that someone such as yourself should never enjoy in the first place.

..Or so you thought. As you gazed up at your guest, his face made you unsure of what he was truly thinking at that moment. It was something you hadn't seen before—unlike those judge-filled, disgusted, and even pitiful gazes you had been given by many in the past. It sparked your curiosity, causing you to ask him the golden question that had laid dormant at the back of your mind.

"Does any of this.. Do I bother you?"

His response came delayed, but you found his answer that came more valuable than actual gold. More relieving than any cool breeze or sweet treat. More rewarding than any war won or title granted. More comforting than any of the stormy nights that distracted you from your whirlwind of thoughts.

And, oddly enough, such a response was quite simple. Only three words, in fact.

"Not at all."

Humans are odd creatures, but they can be patient and forgiving at times. Plus, being the warm-blooded creatures that are allows them the blessing of a naturally-warm, comfortable body.

"Crap," The cursed utterance left the lips of a mouth who's felt nothing but the bitter tang of frustration coat its tongue all afternoon. The uncivilized profanity did nothing to soothe the taste in his mouth nor did it smoothen out the crinkles made by his furrowed brows. It didn't even relieve the tremble of anger in his blood-pricked hands or the aggression of his movements as his fingertips worked a string of tangles with the needles he was holding.

Knitting is awful. How do people find this relaxing? Ever since he's started, he's felt nothing but vexation, pain, and embarrassment! Not only that, but he's made zero progress after so long that he's practically forgotten what he was supposed to be making in the first place! He hates—no, despises this with his entire being!

"Having a bit of trouble?" He heard you ask, and somehow, half of his stress fell away like a slab of rock on the side of a mountain just from hearing your voice. He doesn't get why you have such powers over him seeming as you're a complete stranger. ..Was your voice charmed by some kind of magic perhaps? Were you possibly a god in disguise?

Whatever the reason was, he found himself praying that you never stop talking if he were to ever find out.

"Here, let me show you a trick," Your breath was fanning his ear before he knew it and your skin was warming his shortly afterwards. He froze in place, still and quiet unlike the noisy rainwater he can hear descending from the skies outside—the rain that has kept him trapped here for literal days now.

He's not complaining.

It was only when your palms found place against the back of his hands that his body relaxed. Your hands were soft unlike the many generals and the blacksmiths he had met before his forced abandonment of his previous life. It felt nice. As if flower petals were cradling his hands.

You smelt just as good as a flower too. He had never been this close to you before so he hadn't noticed it, but now that his back is to you like this..it was as if he was laying in a flowerbed.

Do men always smell this good? He doubts it. Most likely, this scent was completely unique. A fragrance only you could naturally produce. Archons does he wish—

"—and that's how you do it," He blinks, snapping back to reality where he stares down at the cloth now weaved together with expert precision to form a bunny's ear.

You had helped him make a breakthrough at last..and he had been too busy daydreaming about how it would feel to be hugged by you to watch and learn how you even did it.

..But he doesn't feel regret looming when the realization comes nor does his annoyance return. Or maybe it has and it just hasn't set in yet. He can't tell right now, not when he's feeling as if he had just been warmed by the sun after being frozen for a millennia.

"Alright, now you try," He hears your words, but they don't process as fast as your hands leaving him does. Nothing really processes quicker than that. Not his frown. Not his disappointment. Not anything.

But not processing something doesn't make it unclear to others. Upon seeing his downcast expression, your brows quirk up in confusion.

"Is there something on your mind, my new friend?" You inquired, but your question is never answered. Instead, you watch as his saddened eyes turn owlish and his head spins in the opposite direction of you as he mutters something under his breath.

"I'm sorry, but can you repeat that?" You asked softly, leaning closer in order to hear him better.

"Can you..show me how to do that again. Please.." He repeated, and in doing so earned the harmonious gift that was your chuckle and the warmth of your hands on him once again.

"Sure. So what you do is.."

Humans are odd creatures. They'd sacrifice countless hours of their already short life, go to ridiculous lengths doing things, and even put aside their fragile well being to do things that are completely irrelevant just because of their belief that what they do will make someone happy.

"I'm back!" The sweet chirp of your new housemate—which you and the villagers of the neighboring town have begun to call Kabukimono— echoed through the small abode of your now shared home after not having the pleasure to in about three days or so.

After moving in a week prior, Kabukimono had been adamant on pulling his own weight to prove that he was worth keeping around despite you having the compassion to allow him to be a freeloader otherwise. That said, after your own clumsiness in the field left you with a sprained ankle, your kind new friend had offered to go out and sell all of this week’s goods on your behalf and how could you refuse such an offer when he looked so happy and eager to help out little ol' you?

Well, the real answer to that was that he gave you no choice in the matter, but you digress.

"I'm in here," He heard you call from the kitchen and he immediately set off in that direction, just barely remembering to slip off his shoes at the door from how eager he was to see you.

If it wasn't obvious already, it had taken some time—both the journey to and from the village and the actual process of conversing with people and getting them to buy everything—but he believes he did pretty good. At the very least, everything was sold. He even managed to make enough to buy you something with some of the excess money!

"Y/n! I got—! ..Huh?" His words died as quickly as his pace as he stilled to a full halt at the entryway. His eyes grew wide bit by bit as he took everything in.

Banners of silk and thread had been strung along the walls, flashing their abstract patterns of blue and purple at anyone who'd spare a glance. Candles—which are usually set alight atop your nightstand and bookshelf in our room—now clumped and coddled on the table like one big sun with the varying foods surrounding them posing as the stars that helped light up the wooden sky they sat on.

But such a beautiful display was only given a moment's glance as Kabukimono seemed more interested in what you thought was a less-than-average sight; yourself.

Nevertheless, the adoration you felt seeing the sparkle of surprise in his eyes—even if for only a second or so—made you crack a smile as you recited the line you had gone over just about a million times during the time you spent waiting for him to arrive.

"Welcome home, Kabukimono."

He was at a loss for words and not for the reason you wanted him to be. With the intent of easing his perturbed shock, you walked towards him, steady and slow, but all that proved to do was snap him out of the spell your heavy eyebags and dreary, drooping eyes had put him under.

"What is all of this? And more importantly, why are you standing? You're not supposed to be putting pressure on that ankle!" He quickly met you the rest of the way, and to your dismay, he had beat you to the comforting, his hands shooting out to grip you by the hips and ease your bandaged leg of your body's weight.

Ignoring his other questions, you began explaining, telling him, "It's a celebration feast. You told me yourself that you, along with not having a name, you haven’t had a home to call yours yet. I thought it would be good to make an occasion out of you finding one at last."

Kabukimono felt bad to admit this even in his own head, but your words were going in one ear and out the other. Yes, he had asked, but you weren't giving him answers to the other questions he simply found more important at the moment, and because of that, it caused his face to look rather tense. Certainly not cheery like you had hoped.

It seems you have made a mistake. It wasn't a surprise, it was you after all, but the thought still hurt considering how much time it took preparing for this moment.

And so, in an attempt to lighten your thoughts and the overall mood, you ask him, "Aren't you happy?"

And unfortunately, your dear housemate didn't answer in the way you had wished he would, instead replying with, "Why would I? You look like you're about to drop dead!"

"I'm fine," You said; a futile attempt of reassurance when you probably looked like a Sumerian Akademiya student who just finished pulling an all-nighter to write a one-hundred page research paper.

"As if!" Kabukimono said. That's when he slung your arm over his shoulder, forcing your bodyweight onto him without your permission, and began trudging you along in the direction of your room.

"What're you doing—" "Taking you to your room so you can lie down like you probably haven't been doing!"

"Seriously, you should take better care of yourself! Don't tell me this is normal for you.. If it is, I won't be able to let you out of my sight from now on!"

In the end, both the feast and Kabukimono's gift for you had been forgotten. Even though you ended up enjoying it later, your sadness about the initial surprise being ruined was hard to get over even with the delight of a new hairpin being added to your collection..

Humans are odd creatures. Their inability to do much makes them become overawed by the simplest things. Their eyes shine just from seeing a coin flipped in an unorthodox way and they clap and gasp watching the stars twinkle overhead. It’s so nice to see stupid.

“You know how to dance?” The excitable question left your usually composed lips as you stared at Kabukimono with stars in your eyes.

“Well...I used to perform sword dances so I suppose yes,” He clarifies, arms crossed as he stared off at the wall to his left with full interest. His azure eyes darkened as if someone had pulled wool over them only to light up like a room to an oil lamp at the question that followed his response.

“Can you show me?” The way you asked him reminded him of a little kid asking their mother to buy them a toy; full of innocent expectancy. It made his lips thin into a line just hearing it.

It had been ages since he’s danced, and in the past, there weren’t many who gawked at or praised him for his moves. Not his mother. Not any of her servants or soldiers. Certainly not her familiar. At the time, he hadn’t cared about their reactions much at all, seeming as the purpose of his dancing wasn’t for frivolous entertainment, but you, however, were different. You weren’t his mother who had abandoned him. You weren’t the servants or soldiers who never spoke to him. You aren’t his mother’s glaring familiar. You’re you, and the thought of seeing such a lackluster expression painted on your face puts a bad taste in his mouth. It makes him gnaw at his bottom lip from the feeling of a wave rocking unsteadily in his stomach cavity. It made him feel..anxious.

“Ah..” His mouth felt like chalk—uncomfortably dry—as he spoke and his eyes couldn’t remove themselves from the walls he was surely burning holes into with his nervous glare as he tried to find something—anything—to refute you. He, at last, does and sputters it out in an uneven tone, “But..you aren’t going into battle though.”

You hum in acknowledgement, and for a moment, he thought he could successfully negate you from the topic, but then your lips move to say, “Sword dances are to summon strength, right? Though they’re performed for battles, war isn’t the only thing that requires strength. Farming, cooking.. Even getting out of bed in the mornings needs some strength to complete. When put in that way, don’t you think I’m in need of just as much strength as one of the Shogunate’s men?”

“We- Well, a typical sword dance requires a sword and a fan and we don’t have anything like that lying around the house,” He shoots out. His brows knitting at the odd feeling of his skin damp with moisture he wasn’t aware he could produce before now.

“I do have a fan,” You retort, “It’s mainly preserved for hot weather, but it'd be perfect for this occasion! And for the sword..ah! Would a wooden stilt suffice? It’s a little longer than the typical sword, but if I were to shave it down a bit..”

“I..” He looks at you, face uncharacteristically spooked as he repeats himself, sounding like a broken record at this point, “I.. I..” but you don’t pay it much mind as your excitement gets the better of you and you chalk up his reaction as pre-performance jitters before running to find the items needed, leaving Kabukimono no choice but to watch helplessly like some baby kitten.

In the matter of an hour, he was outside. His body donning one of your many creations while holding a summer fan and wooden stick that didn’t come close to matching anything he was wearing. You—smile etched on your face despite feeling as though you were being stabbed all over—sat a little aways from him on the white cushions that had completely covered the green grass, patiently yet eagerly awaiting for the invisible curtains to rise and for his feet to begin to move.

Despite the biting cold, his hands were slick with sweat, forcing him to grip the wood and fan with inhumane force as to not drop it. His breath came out thick and labored, freezing over immediately upon leaving his lips and ultimately coming out as puffy, white clouds. His only saving grace here was that his feet were firmly planted into the dirt circle you paved out just for his little show. It was even rid of the transparent icy layer; an astonishing feat to be done in so little time.

Even from where he stood, he could see the reddening of your face and hands. The slight tremble of your limbs.. You were freezing to death, that much was certain, but you didn’t care. That’s just how adamant you were to see him perform.

And so, feeling as though he had no other choice, he began. His feet started to glide, starting slow as did his arms—languid and mesmerizing—before it began to pick up just a little whenever he’d twirl or spin or hop. He was sure his movements were sloppy, that his improvision to the original dance he was taught shone through like a stain to white cloth..but as he snuck a glance your way, he found himself uncaring.

..Because the way you looked at him was as if you were gazing up at a god who had just saved your life; amazement brightened your hues like comets in the sky as you followed his every move, utterly enraptured by him. He had managed to evoke that from you. Only him.

Ironically, he had found he himself charmed by your expression and microexpressions. Completely hypnotized as he slid and flowed around the small circle, his clothing–the clothing you had gifted to him—fluttering like angel wings which only further added to the beauty of each swing he took with the stick.

But alas, as the dance went on, Kabukimono found himself going into autopilot. Simply going about the motions as he took every chance possibly to glance your way, his eyes like a distant memory—a past life—whenever they locked with yours..

Humans are odd creatures. Deceptive by nature too. Without a perceptive gaze and trained ears to catch onto their lies, they could make you believe anything as the truth.

"Hey, Kabukimono, could you pass me the carrots I cut up over there?" You asked, using your head to gesture over in the direction of where you had left the cut carrots on the low table. Kabukimono jumped to your request; crossing the kitchen, picking up the bowl, and walking back over to where you sat comfortably at the kotatsu in record time.

He hands it to you, and with a flick of your wrists, the orange delicacies had joined the rest of the vegetables in the boiling pot on the table. Kabukimono sits back on his knees as you do this, taking comfort in propping his elbow up on the wooden surface before laying his head on his fist as he watches the slow travel of white steam erupt from the pot into the air. His eyes like staring on like a dormant beast at the boiling vegetables crackling as he sighs dreamily at the smell of heaven they produce.

He didn't need to eat. He had told you that at some point in time along with other things, and yet, you had somehow trained him to yearn for food regardless—to salivate when he saw a tasty-looking dish and even grow excited at the thought of what to cook for dinner. It was such a mundane thing that was once so foreign to him. Such a human pleasure and yet he so eagerly partook in it regardless. All because of you. All for you.

Another thing he does because of you now is small talk. Before, if there were silence between him and another person he'd embrace it without a second thought and wouldn't leave that comfort unless forced to—and even then, only a select few would actually elicit a response from him. Nowadays though, it seems he grows quite restless whenever words aren't filling the air. Though, this applied more so with you than anyone else.

"How did it go in town?" He asked, "You were selling those new cat-shaped stuffed toys you worked yourself ragged making..so? Did anybody like them?"

To such a simple question, your reaction was bewildering. The way your grip tightened on the ladle, the narrowing of your eyes and brows, the tut of your lip.. It all gave a bad vibe.

And so he frowned and asked, "Did they not like them after all? ..Or did something—"

"It's nothing," And you presented him a closed-eyed smile, both your expression and your grip on the ladle relaxing as you went on to further say, "I just..thought about this girl I met at the villager. I assume she was an orphan from her attire and the way she followed me around without a care.. Anyways, she ended up tripping and hurting her knee pretty badly so I gave her one of the cat plushies, free of charge.”

"Anyways, the food is ready so let's drop this topic. After all, we don't want it to get cold," The topic changed as suddenly as it came. Odd, seeming as how you're usually rambling all afternoon and evening about your travel to the village, sparing absolutely no detail about even the tiniest things.

The thought lingered for a time, but as he watched you stuff your mouth and saw your eyes shine joyously at the wonderful flavor that coated your tongue as you began to ramble about your relief about the dish turning out good despite this being your first time trying out the recipe, that thought eventually fluttered away with the wind that came through the crack in your sliding doors that allowed more of the evening oranges and yellows to seep into your home.

You were probably just really hungry and eager to eat, he thought as he finally took a bite of the potato he had picked up with his chopsticks, his eyes closing as he hummed out in delight at the taste.

Unbeknownst to him, your face dropped as soon as his eyes closed, your eyes uncharacteristically fogged and dull, as if it were displaying the thick fog that shrouded your mind, your thoughts, your heart. It was a fog that Kabukimono never caught on to, blissfully unaware of what stained your mind, body, and soul.

Humans are odd creatures. Their outside appearance never matches how they feel or the thoughts that poison their mind. They never voice those thoughts either, making it impossible to guess what’s truly going on with them. There are some who’d bless you with a morsel of their inner world—give you a crumb of the turmoil that constantly leaks in their head—making you feel as though you’ve truly come to understand them when in reality, you haven’t even scratched the surface.

It was the middle of the night. The once navy blue sky that had overcasted the world when the sun first fell was now dark due to even the stars going into hiding to slumber, leaving the moon as the only beacon of light to shed away the shadows. It was pitch black everywhere you turned and cicadas buzzed loudly outside, likely complaining about the sweltering heat of the summer, making it impossible to even hear yourself think. It was like some mundane hell.

So why were you out here?

It happened by chance. He had heard some odd noises and went to investigate it. Not expecting to see a silhouette walking out of the door. Thinking it was some thief, he followed after the person, and as the sounds of the cicadas grew distant and an earthy smell invaded his nostrils, the silhouette became less and less obscure. Becoming as clear as day by the time the person had reached their destination.

That person was you.

“..What is this place?” The question came tumbling out before he could stop himself, his words loudly piercing the quiet of the night. It alerts you of his presence at long last and has your head spinning in his direction.

“Oh.. It’s just you, Kabukimono’.. Heh, you scared me,” You said. Your head turns forward once again as you force your shoulders to relax, allowing the basket on your back to slide down your arms and to the ground. As you slowly set yourself atop the gentle grass, Kabukimono takes a step forward. Then another, and another, until he’s right beside you, who was digging for the items in the basket.

After a moment of silence allows you to, at last, gather everything needed out of the basket, Kabukimono decides to ask his question once again..or he planned to. As he opens his mouth to let his words free, your voice breaks the silence.

“There used to be a small village here,” You told him, your hands beginning to twist two long stocks together, “If you go the opposite way of the path we usually tread, you can still find the remnants of what it used to be.”

“The village's main source used to be this lake. Everyone relied on it for everything. To drink, to cook, to bathe.. Even some of the oddest ways of entertainment came from here..” You laughed, but it was drier than any desert depicted in the novels in your room. It felt wrong to hear—kinda like hearing a baby’s cry come from a grown man—and it felt almost unnerving to have it come from someone like you, who he’s come to associate with the sun itself.

But you were probably really tired. Looking at you, the deep bags that hang your eyelids down indicates you probably haven’t gotten much sleep lately which makes sense seeming as you’ve been running around and, as you told him, ‘preparing’ for something really important.

He wonders what it is you’re preparing for. Whenever he’d ask, he’d never get an answer..

“This lake, though bound by the earth to this one place, saved that village so many times that the townsfolk began to believe that some powerful being was secretly living in the depths of it and protecting them. They began to idolize it, nurture and take care of it, and spoke about it as if this little lake was some otherworldly deity which created tall tales and legends that they’d go on to tell their children…believe it or not, I once took part in such absurdity.”

“So..what happened to the village?” Kabukimono hesitates to ask. After all, the obvious context clues pointed him in a tragic direction, but he couldn’t resist his own curiosity in the end. Not when the look in your eyes—that were lit by the lantern of the water’s ripples—reflected nothing but pure sorrow.

At his question, you took a glance his way. As you broke away from the lake that practically glowed in the moonlight, your eyes were stripped of the illuminating gleam of the waves and casted into the darkness of the night. In fact, if it weren’t for the lake, he probably wouldn’t have been able to see your face at all.

Part of him wished that had happened. If it did, he wouldn’t have been forced to stare into the abyss that had overtook your hues for those small handful of seconds.

“The lake failed them,” You finally spoke shortly after returning your gaze to the water, “A fire of unknown origins enveloped it in the dead of night. It wiped out half the village and forced the other half to flee for safety..some of which came to me, who lived on the outskirts of town.”

“No one knew how it started. After all, fire wasn’t anywhere close to being the most accessible resource they had. It was a luxury, even. It also never spread past the village and by sunrise, it ceased to exist altogether. The oddity of the situation made the survivors believe that it was some punishment from their lake deity,” As you went on, you had been weaving the strands until one end had connected to the other in a circle—though your sloppy craftsmanship caused it to look more like an oval in your opinion.

As eyesore of a sight it was, you persisted. Your hands reach for the clipped flowers beside you, "That thought clouded their minds and the thought of disappointing their all-forgiving god drove them mad,” Kabukimono watched as you spoke, sticking flowers in one by one and twisting it into the circle, making the dank green pop with each pristine white you carefully placed around it.

“Convinced that it was their fault everything was lost, the surviving villagers went about the rest of their days repenting by praying to the lake from sun up to sun down...until the waters rose and they disappeared while being enveloped by the deity's embrace."

The story seemed like something straight out of a fairytale. Nonsensical like a myth that he usually wouldn't believe...but the same could be said about his very existence. With that in mind, who is he to be so narrow-minded? He decided to keep his thoughts to himself, locking them tight behind his lips as you continued.

"The lake failed them. It made a fatal mistake. Saved not one villager from that fire, yet nothing changed. Not their love nor their devotion..if anything it only made them see this lake in an even more divine light...so why didn't the same happen for me?"

The tail end of your sentence made him perk up with unease and as his brows knitted together, Kabukimono opens his mouth as he worriedly asked—or rather, attempted to ask, “What do you mean—” but you shifted the topic faster than he could get the full sentence out.

“ Do you remember the tales I would tell you about my childhood—my brother specifically? ..I ran into him some time ago while I was out selling in the village.”

“Whether they wanted to seize from me the goods I was selling that day—or perhaps mistook me for a woman and wanted to have their fun with me as some men have in the past—they began harassing me quite aggressively,” You started, “They bothered me for quite awhile and grew progressively violent the more I tried to politely get them to leave me be—one of them even snatched me up by the wrist. That’s when he intervened.”

“He didn’t recognize me, not that I’d expect him to. After all, I’ve changed a lot since we were kids..and it seems the same went for him as well,” After placing all the whites of innocence, you went on to grab your smaller, yellow sundrops, your hands meticulously working them in between the white flowers as you continued talking in a cheerful tone.

“Though it’s only been a decade or so since I’d last seen or spoken to him, he’s already been through so much. He told me himself, you see, that he had just returned from the war and was passing through villages trying to find a suitable gift.. Can you guess for what?”

“I don’t know..maybe your parents?” Kabukimono guessed; the wrong answer. You didn’t give him another chance to theorize.

“It was for his wife and daughter,” You corrected, and if once wasn’t enough, you repeat yourself, “He was returning home to his wife and four year old daughter and wanted to get them something special.”

Gaining the courage once again, Kabukimono attempted to question the point of this conversation in the first place by asking, “What’s wrong with that?” He grew hopeful at first when you allowed him to get his words out. Maybe, at last, he could get his questions answered, he thought.

He thought wrong.

“He’s really tall now, you know? —I mean, he was always taller than me, but now he’s like a tree! When we spoke face to face, I had to crane my neck all the way back to look up at him,” His question is, once again, ignored as if he never asked it. He began to frown, not liking the thought of you possibly ignoring him, but that crease in his skin quickly grew less prominent when he caught a glimpse of your joyful smile.

“He’s also got big muscles and a handsome smile,” You add, “That paired with his headstrong, chivalric nature..I’m not surprised that he’s made a name for himself and started a family in such a short time,” Your voice then drops to a murmur as you turn you creation left then right, inspecting it as said, “In only a small handful of years, he’s achieved someone’s dream and so much more.. He’s managed to exceed even the impossible and make everyone proud..he’s truly amazing..”

You grasp at pink petals—deteriorated by the chilling weather—as you fit them as you see fit. Filling in each space like a piece of a puzzle.

“That encounter made me think back to the lake. It made me realize how similar we are. We’re both fragile and delicate and were surrounded by people who’d still expect us to give away our bones despite already relinquishing our flesh and blood…so what went wrong with me?”

“Wh.. What?” He stammered. You lift your handiwork into the air, presenting it to the moon for judgement before you finally repeat yourself..

“What went wrong? I made mistakes just like the lake, so why wasn’t I given the benefit of the doubt? Why did my family–my father–abandon me?”

Abandon. That word stuck to him like a burn to his skin and it felt as if he had just opened his eyes for the first time in a century. It made him realize all the little things at last; how tense the air was, how dim your eyes were, how often your brows twitched, how your eyes seemed like glass balls, how forced your smile seemed.. The illusion he had absorbed himself shattered in that instant, allowing reality to set in like a heavy weight. The person who sat beside him, the one who he’s come to view as the sun that brightened up his day, had looked so different in that moment that he could mistake them for an entirely different person. Did they always look like that? If so, for how long? How long has his sun been this dim? And why didn’t he notice it sooner?

“I’m sorry, that was cruel of me to ask you that,” You profess in a raspy whisper before turning to him, plopping the finished product—a tri-colored flower crown—atop his head as you mutter, “There’s no way you can answer that.. It was my mistake..”

Kabukimono blinks, his eyes looking up as he tries to peer at the crown to no avail. It was like watching a kitten play with a toy; adorable. Kabukimono didn’t catch it, but upon seeing such a cute sight, you bit down on your bottom lip as your eyes narrowed—damn nea glaring—his way. Luckily, you catch yourself before he notices, trying to laugh it off as you look over at the lake once more. Though your laugh was even drier than the previous one that left your lips and came tumbling out of your mouth like gravel.

“You know, you remind me so much of my brother,” You said, “You have so much potential to live whatever life you want, to make everyone happy and still keep yourself intact..I almost envy you.”

Kabukimono—hands delicately tracing the rim of the flower crown on his head—grimaced at your comment. Envy. Such a negative feeling to harbor towards him and for no reason at all. After all, he’s nothing special. If he was, surely she wouldn’t have discarded him and left him to rot alone. Alas, before he can tell you that, you started rambling again.

“I used to make mistakes all the time when I was younger. Especially with swords,” You told him, though it looked more like you were talking to the lake at your knees by the way you were so intently gazing at it, “I just couldn’t get the hang of it. That applied to a lot of things my father tried to teach me… Heh, it makes sense why he gave up on trying after my brother was born.”

“Wh- What are you saying..?” Kabukimono asked. It came out as a hoarse whisper that was easily carried away by the warm winds and far away from your ears. Hence why you continued instead of answering, surely.

“You asked me once about the story behind how my obsession for knitting came about.. Why I enjoy it so much.. Well, the reason I never told you was because the truth is quite silly in hindsight; it was to apologize to my father.”

“I felt sorry for him. After all, his oldest son—who was supposed to carry on and lift a weight off his shoulders–was completely hopeless in every way. I truly did feel bad..and so I thought the least I could do was ease his mind—to reassure him that his useless son could do something right.”

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that–” “After keenly watching my mother sew clothes and observing the female servants make clothing they could otherwise not afford, I was able to do something out of these impractical hands..” You held your hands up and kabukimono winces at the sight. They look like the aftermath of an intense fight, scars—some new, some old—littered your skin, some even stained it with the ugly dark crust that forms when the skin begins to heal. Did they always look that way? “Would you like to know what I made?”

“I– I’m not—” “I made a fox. A tiny little fox attached to a string,” You said, “I thought it would be cute if he would tie it around the hilt of his sword and carry it around — similar to how one would a good luck charm. I was so excited when I finally finished and ran straight to my father's dojo on the far edge of our home to show it to him.”

“Y/n–” “At the sight of my creation, my father frowned so deeply I thought his face would become permanently creased by it. ‘Is this what you waste your idle time doing?’ he asked me before cutting my little fox to shreds. ‘No wonder you’ve become such a disappointment! You sit around knitting animals instead of dedicating yourself to training!’ he went on to say.”

“He went to grumbling under his breath after that. He kept his voice low, but I still heard what he said.. Wanna guess? He said—”

“Y/n, stop!” The sound of shuffling of him as he stumbles to his feet is loud—though small in comparison to the boom of his scream. You pause, surprised albeit you barely show it—or rather, you’re barely able to force yourself to react—only being able to slowly blink his way in the end as you stare up at your darling housemate, who’s pretty eyes had welled up with tears.

Stop..please..” He pleaded. A sniffle pushing him past the line of embarrassment, causing him to hide his face from you, “I- I beg of you.. Don’t say another word..not if you plan to degrade yourself like this!”

“..Kabukimono, don’t..—” He hears you call from the other side of the barrier he created between the two of you, but he’s finally quicker, interrupting you for the first time tonight.

“Your family abandoned you, but that helped you find your way to me,” He choked, “They didn’t see your worth for what it truly was..but that allowed me to! Who cares what they think of you? How they perceive you? They aren’t in your life anymore, I am! So stop talking down on yourself like they are!” With every word that leaves his lips—that seep through the unseen slits between his fingers—Kabukimono seems to crack more and more until he falls apart, collapsing to the ground in a fit of sobs which causes the flower crown to fall ungracefully off his head.

“I- I’m in your life now, and I don’t care what you’re good or bad at! I don’t have any expectations for you to meet! It doesn’t matter if you don’t meet society’s standards! I don’t care about any of that. I just want to stay by your side! Isn’t that enough? Aren’t I enough?”

“Kabukimono..” You call. A moment of silence passes and a chime of bells in the form of your choked sobs fill his ears as you snivel, “No.. No, no— I- I'm sorry. Don’t cry, please don’t cry..”

He suddenly feels the warmth of your arms surrounding his kneeled being and he finds himself crying harder to the point every sorrowful yell and sniffle rattled his entire body. You had wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to comfort him, but it was rather pitiful and futile, seeming as you were sobbing yourself, repeating, “Sorry.. I’m so sorry..” over and over like it was your matra.

You two stayed like that; sobbing amongst the serene sound of the water until it drowned you two out altogether. After some time, your loud croaks had been reduced to weak whimpering—though if the reason for that was because your voice grew too hoarse to form proper words or another reason was unclear.

Neither of you cared, or at least, Kabukimono didn’t. All that he cared about was the feeling of being tangled in your arms and the sound of your heartbeat singing in his ear—which he had pressed against your chest.

“Promise me,” He whispered, his voice rasp, “Promise me that you’ll be honest with me from now on. A- And promise me not to degrade yourself anymore..that you won’t think about the past..all of it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on..with me,” He clutched at your kimono, crumpling the flowers on it with his grip as he awaited your response with bated breath.

And when you finally did—when you finally mumbled your response and in the exact way he wanted you to—he felt as though the sun had finally come out again, better and brighter than before..

“I promise.”

Humans are odd creatures. They’re treacherous liars by nature who spew falsehoods for the sake of their own twisted amusement, uncaring of those affected by their games.

“There was once a small village here. If you go the opposite way of the path we usually tread, you can still find the remnants of what it used to be.”

It’s been two weeks since you left for the village to sell goods. You still hadn’t returned.

It’d usually take no more than a few days for you to sell everything and come home, so after said days had passed and you were nowhere to be seen, he grew worried and—in the end—went to the village in search of you.

..But you weren’t there either. In fact, from what he gathered from asking around, you had left the village days ago.

“The village's main source used to be this lake. Everyone relied on it for everything. To drink, to cook, to bathe.. Even some of the oddest ways of entertainment came from here..”

You weren’t here at the village, but you weren’t home either..so where had you gone? The question sunk into him, weighing him down like an anchor and causing his stomach cavity to drop. A feeling of dread set over him as he came upon the unsettling realization; you were missing.

Where had you gone? What happened when you left the village a few days ago? Had you been kidnapped? Grown more frantic with each thought that popped into his head, Kabukimono ran around, asking every villager he came across about you until he finally gained a morsel of information—a speckle of hope—when a man mentioned seeing someone that fit your description walk towards the entrance of the village with an empty, woven basket as big as themselves hanging on their back.

And without much thought, he took off in that very direction, heeding the man no mind any longer despite his warnings about the impending storm that was soon to consume the area.

Kabukimono remained unfazed when the path beneath his feet began to turn dark and slippery, when the graying sky finally shed its tears, when those tears dampened his clothing, not even when he nearly fell into a puddle. All that he could focus on was the possible places you would have gone and why the place you chose wasn’t home where he was.

“So..what happened to the village?”

“The lake failed them.”

“Y/n! Where are you? Can you hear me?” After a while of running with no destination in mind, Kabukimono found it best to call out to you in hopes you’d make your way to him, call his name back, something–anything–that would hint towards you being near.

He raised his voice as high as he could, his voice likely being carried across nations from how loud he was, and yet, he was met with nothing but the deafening sound of thunder roaring to life. It was disheartening, but as he stood amongst the rain, the final wire in his head finally clicked and the memory of you sitting before crystal waters was pushed to the forefront of his mind.

It’s a slim chance, but maybe you had gone there and, for whatever reason, stayed.

In an instant, he was running at full speed once again, steering in the direction his memory remembered best.

“A fire of unknown origins enveloped it in the dead of night. It wiped out half the village and forced the other half to flee for safety..some of which came to me, who lived on the outskirts of town.”

"That thought clouded their minds and the thought of disappointing their all-forgiving god drove them mad..”

He made it to the lake by nightfall—not that he could tell by looking up, seeming as it's been the same color since earlier that afternoon—and as if a light was shining down on it from the sky, the lake gleamed almost magically. Its darkened waters seemed to shine like a ruby even under the thick clouds and he sees the ripples from where he stood in the distance. The waves paving a clear way for him to follow, slowly leading up to the center where he spots something..

“Convinced that it was their fault everything was lost, the surviving villagers went about the rest of their days repenting by praying to the lake from sun up to sun down…”

As he slowly walked closer, familiar strands of hair became noticeable. Though cut into uneven chunks and spread out to be nearly invisible in comparison to the deep red of the water that it floats in, he was sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. That said, he found himself following the strands to the origins of where they once flourished from. His eyes locked on the indistinguishable lump once again and he was sure that it and the reason he came here were unrelated…until something floating beside it caught his eyes.

That something was a hairpin. One with a golden base and purple and red flowers dancing along the edge of it…just like the one he bought you the day you decided to throw him that welcoming party.

“...until the waters rose and they disappeared while being enveloped by the deity's embrace."

“Y/n.. Y/n!” Despite the pressure of it dawning on him felt like two boulders falling on his shoulders, Kabukimono rushed into the water and immediately the white clothing that covered his being stained a murky crimson whilst a putrid smell invaded his nostrils. It made him feel sick—nauseated, even—but he did his best to push it all down as he clumsily swam towards the center of the lake.

It wasn’t true. This wasn’t happening. This surely can’t.. What’s floating amongst the water truly isn’t what he thinks it is.

It isn’t you. There’s no way. You made a promise that you still haven’t fulfilled, after all. You wouldn’t break your promise, not someone like you.

After what felt like an eternity, he reaches the center of the lake which he now notices is more of an inky black and only stretches as far as a few rogue strands. He grabs ahold of the lump, sucking in a breath when his fingertips sink in slightly as if pressing against a firm, wet cushion. It felt disgusting. He hesitates, but ultimately squeezes down enough to pull it along even with the sickening slick gushing at the pressure and making his grasp unsteady.

He reaches land at long last, immediately escaping onto the wet grass and tugging the lump out along with him. It looked less like a lump now, and though swole and looking like some abstract art piece, there was no mistaking it. It was flesh. This was a person, or rather, the remains of one..and they looked eerily similar to you even when all blotched and bloody, there was no denying that.

But even if this was you, there’s no way you could be dead. No, that’d be impossible. You have to be asleep. You had to have decided to take a dip in the lake and fell asleep. That’s the only thing that makes sense.

His shaky palms reach out to you and he touches you with his cold, wet hands that were actively getting more and more drenched with every raindrop that fell on them. He gently swept your hair from your face, tucked it tentatively behind your ear, and cupped your cheek.

His breath stutters. It was as if he was touching pure ice. But that can’t be possible. You’re his sun, his light, somebody like you shouldn’t feel like this.

..Well actually, it makes sense. You fell asleep in the water plus it’s raining. Even someone as warm as you would succumb to the cold under these circumstances. It makes sense. It’s okay. He’ll help you warm up in the comfort of your home as soon as he wakes you up.

He slides his hand down your face—past your now oddly grayed lips and down your neck—until he reaches your bare shoulder, which wrinkles had been exposed due to his rough handlings in pulling you out of the water by the drapes of your clothing. He promises to apologize when you awake. Because you will wake up. There’s no doubt. Because you’re just sleeping.

“Y/n..” He calls softly. Too softly seeming as you remain unmoving. He decides to give your shoulder a gentle shake, calling your name once again, “Y/n.”

“Y/n. It’s time to wake up,” Your lashes don’t flutter. You don’t grimace from the discomfort of his shaking growing more and more aggressive. You don’t do anything.

“I don’t mean to disturb you, but you’ll probably get sick if you lie here in the rain any longer,” The same result. Blood begins to seep under his fingernails from how hard he’s digging his nails into your skin. He continues to shake you anyways, even going on to grip your other, covered shoulder.

“Come on, you can’t sleep around forever. I- I planned to surprise you by making dinner all by myself tonight. It’s your favorite so you have to try it,” His nose was beginning to tingle from the odor that was invading it. Where was it coming from? Why is it so much stronger than before now that he’s closer to you? He forces his mind not to make the connection. Not that there was a connection in the first place. You were just sleeping, after all.

Just sleeping, nothing else.

Kabukimono’s hand trails down your arm, down past your wrist, to your hand where he enlaces his fingers with yours, “Come on,” He said, though his voice was quieter now, more shaky, and his words cracked like glass, allowing his desperation to seep through just a little, “We have to get home..”

“I- I want to go home now, so let’s go..please..” He lifts your hand, raising your arm into the air and ignoring the deep, dark lines etched messily into your skin—the deepest looking one right over the vein of your wrist—and giving it a firm squeeze. You don’t reciprocate the action.

His grip loosens after a while and your fingers slide down his palm and flop to the ground beside you. You had to be really, really tired. But that’s okay, he’ll help you out!

He moves to hover over you, a grim smile etched on his face as he loops his arms around your waist and hoists you up. Your body collides with his as all your weight shifts to lean on him.

He holds you tightly, his head turning so as to not hit his nose against your chest and instead allows you to lean against the side of his face, his ear pricking up at the sweet symphony of...silence.

Sitting there, amongst the loud rain with his ear pressed against your chest—right over your heart—he’s met with deafening silence instead of the usual beat your heart strings typically produce. Your heart wasn’t playing its usual tune. It wasn’t playing anything, in fact, because it wasn’t beating. If your heart wasn’t beating anymore that meant you weren’t breathing anymore either which meant..you..

Tears—ones that he wasn’t aware of—were building up in his eyes, falling like a castle under attack. They slowly descended one after another, quickly fusing with the rainwater and forming as a long, thick stream along his cheek and past his mouth—which he had cracked open to bare his clenched teeth.

“Y/n..what have you done?” He whispered. His voice sounded small like a baby fox’s cry for help; vulnerable and weak. He then repeats himself one last time, slowly, “..Why have you done this..?”

Silence. His teeth crackles under the pressure of him forcing them impossibly closer together.

“Answer me,” He says through gritted teeth before yelling out, visibly and uncharacteristically enraged, “Answer me!”

Silence. He shakes you hard, your head rolling every which way like a ragdoll to the point it’d make one believe that any harder would cause it to roll right off your shoulders. Luckily, for his sake, it doesn’t.

“You promised me!” He shouted, his voice then dipped, “..you promised me..”

Silence. A choke spells his demise quickly after that and his strength suddenly fails him, allowing your body—your corpse—to fall unceremoniously to the ground. He follows suit soon after, and when he does, he lets out a scream. One that clawed its way out from the depths of his chest, spilling his agony out of his throat and laying it bare for the entire world to see…alas, with nothing but the moon to comfort him.

Humans are odd creatures. Ones that cannot be trusted, no matter who they are or what past they may harbor, at least, that’s what Kabukimono.. Kunikuzushi…

That’s what Scaramouche has grown to believe after centuries of nothing but betrayal.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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sleepycoffins-and-benhargreeves · 7 years ago

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TumblrFrostbite's AU Question: Regarding your OTP (Josie and Kazuya)'s child, how similar and different from their parents would they be growing up?

OHMYGOSH I CAN’T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE INDULGING ME INTO THIS CRACK SHIP RARE OTP OF MINEbhsdbj. You are heaven sent bruh

Also, this got a little too long so I’m sorry ;w; I just have these two’s story written out so much in my head that I can;t help but, explain in so much detail ;w;

Okai, so Josie and Kazuya getting married and having a kid is a BIG WHAT IF or just a heavily implied AU. Because seriously, we’re talking about Kazuya here. The dude with serious daddy issues, mommy issues, child abuse, and trust and abandonment issues. Hell, he is clearly a textbook sociopath from the books I read.

But, let’s say he’s just a really heavily scarred man that can stray away from his past issues and can actually break away from said textbook sociopath. I imagine some life-threatening event happened first to either him or Josie before they actually got married. He’d be all like, screw world domination and destruction, if he can have a chance of a happy life with Josie, then he’d try to change. If that thought seriously came to him tbh.

So, if this were going to happen, I imagine him and Josie having deep talks and months or even a year of planning first before even considering having a child at all. Kazuya would bring up the past a lot and the devil gene. He probably already has it ingrained in his skull that his family was always meant to betray and kill each other and that would be fine for him, if Josie wasn’t in the picture. I imagine Josie trying to soothe out Kazuya’s past traumas herself until they eventually come to a time where they have couple/marital consultation and family planning consultation. But of course, entirely private at the confines of their home and no, they will not talk about the devil gene with the therapist.

This was probably suggested by one of Josie’s friends or advisors of Kazuya. I imagine the dude actually having advisors or something. Although, they’re usually for business, but since Josie talks to them, they caught up on the problem and tried to help. (Besides, Josie helped them with Kazuya actually coming close to below average nice.)

So, after months or a year of planning and consultations you’d think Kazuya would be ready for that shit but, no. This would be one of those very rare moments where Kazuya would feel a mixture of nervousness and joy and fear all at the same time.

In my head filled with fanfiction stories, I headcanon them having 3 kids, 2 boys and a girl. (PS: This fanfiction will never be written because not only do I not have the time for it but, I also know nobody would be interested enough to read it lol)

Their first child was a boy, which is why Kazuya was also reminded by Jin. Their first kid looks nothing like Jin(except maybe for the eyebrows), most of the baby’s features leaned towards Josie, even the skin colour and hair. So, he cried because he has mix feelings of wanting to protect the child but, also being heavily worried because what if this child would grow up to be just like him and Jin?

Kazuya is strict, more strict than, Josie could ever be. Having grown up from a traditional family of “Are you worthy enough to carry the name Mishima?”, all of those expectations and not to mention his own molded personality of being cruel; he has a hard time knowing which is punishment for the child and which is being a cruel father like Heihachi was to him.

Josie agreed on their child learning the Mishima fighting style as long as the kid also gets to learn Arnis and Yaw-Yan. Their children’s fighting style is a mixture of those two. Josie is your strict Asian mother that’s like “Your grades and all this blah blah blah must be high”, although she’s just a model and professional kickboxer, I imagine she’s also a college graduate with a degree somewhere in the field of medicine or engineer. She takes studies and extra-curricular activities very seriously and is always on full-on support to whatever her child loves to do.

But, she can also be a very doting mother who’s easy to give in to her child’s wants. But, It’s something like a reward system of “If you finish your homework then yes, we can go to Disneyland afterwards.” type of thing. Josie quite easily fit into the rick lifestyle since her family was already above middle-class before marrying Kazuya. Also, how she raises her children is exactly the same as to how she was raised, only with more expensive tastes.

Kazuya never realizes or most of the time doesn’t realize when he’s being too harsh and pushing their Mishima heir too hard. The kid would be in tears and he’d only think of it as “Inheriting the cry baby trait from his mother.” thought.

Him and Josie would have constant fights about how Kazuya is traumatizing their child. Kazuya tries to listen of course but, he always gives the rebuttal of “How can he be a Mishima if he can’t do this and that” kind of thing or “If he doesn’t become strong enough, his devil will consume him!” and the only way for him actually see that he’s in the wrong is when Josie tells him that he’s turning into his father. Kazuya would never want to be like Heihachi so, they make up with that and more therapy for Kazuya ensues.

Kazuya only got to be really close with their kid when Joshua (Yep,their kid’s name. Something like Joshua or Junichirou because it’s a Mishima thing to be named after their mother) was around 5 years old. Yes, they had their playdates together and Kazuya wanted to be home more often because he wants to see his family (But also protect Josie and see if the kid’s devil gene would active early)

Josie always explains to their kid how Kazuya is a good man and he just has a hard time understanding others so she asks for their child to be more understanding of his father. Joshua always tries to win his father’s favor by training hard, doing good academically, and trying to be an affectionate son by giving letters, handmade gifts, and cooking with his mother. More often than, not Joshua breaks down from pressure and high expectations from both of his parents. They’re both very demanding so, I imagine Joshua getting a therapist even at a young age.

That and also because I love the headcanon from Kazuyagoddamnmishima that the devil gene gives you chronic nightmares. Kazuya is used to it, but ever since he and Josie got together, they’ve lessened. He can’t teach his son how he coped with them so, they brought him to a therapist instead. Even though, Joshua hasn’t activated his devil gene yet, the nightmares still happen because of the pressure and expectations. They all stay up together to keep Joshua company (Kazuya is quite reluctant at first but, eventually gives in and it becomes a family routine to sleep together from time to time)

On the less angsty side of this though, is that Kazuya and Joshua play baseball together and bond over their shared loved of collecting sneakers. Their love for sneakers got them to spend more time together; shopping for sneakers all over the world. Kazuya had already forgotten how fun it was to actually not think about anything and just enjoy being a sneaker head with his son.

Their favourite family trips would have to be either playing baseball or basktetball (Josie kinda pushed for it because it’s a well loved sport in the Philippines and Joshua likes it too) or going to beaches. They make sure to always visit the beaches in the Philippines so their kid could also spend some time with his grandparents.

Also, Kazuya buying every game console known to mankind and inviting the Rizal family over to Japan so the relative’s kids could play with Joshua. That or they bring everything to the Philippines and it somehow worked out with them renting a whole hotel because their stuff could not fit inside the Rizal family home.

When Kazuya’s defenses against Joshua eventually crumbled down, they decided to have another since Joshua was already 5 or 6 and Josie really wanted a new baby, especially a girl.

They had twins. Kazumi is older by 2 minutes to Alfonso (named after Josie’s grandfather). Josie gets to name their children because Kazuya isn’t good with them in a sense that he feels uncomfortable with it. Joshua only got the second name Junichirou because he’s going to inherit the Mishima Zaibatsu one day. He’s happy with the Filipino names though and there was a time where they thought using real Filipino names (because most are either Spanish or Ameircan names in the Philippines) but, they decided not to do so because family tradition. They both come from families where you hand down an old family name to the children or well, in Kazuya’s side the feminine or masculine version of the grandparent’s names.

Kazumi looks like Kazuya, hence she looks a lot like her grandmother Kazumi Mishima. The only thing she inherited from Josie is her wavy hair, almost morena skin colour and short stature (both Joshua and Kazumi are on the rather short side. 5′5/5′6 and 5′3 respectively) whilst Alfonso is a mixture both of his parents, Kazuya’s hair and eyes, Josie’s eyebrows and nose, Kazuya’s lips, Josie’s cheekbones, and out of all the siblings he has the lightest skin colour. Alfonso stands about 5′9 to 6′0.

When Kazumi and Alfonso were born that was the moment Kazuya felt like a real father whom was protective and would do anything for his family. Kazumi was like a precious little treasure to him and was pretty much at shock for the feelings of becoming a father to a daughter.

When the twins were born Kazuya started to really drill into Joshua about the family and inheritance. He trains both Joshua and Alfonso hard and when it comes to Kazumi, he doesn’t realize how soft he becomes until Kazumi herself points it out to him.

Out of all the siblings, Kazumi inherited Kazuya’s rather dark and stoic personality. Although, Alfonso has that scary unapproachable aura to him, people should be more afraid of Kazumi. She’s as cruel, unforgiving, and sadistic as her father(Josie eventually soothes it down from her). Joshua and Alfonso are the softy cry babies that are more like, Josie(They grow out of it unlike, Josie though. But, they have what we call Pusong Mamon-literal translation sponge cake heart, where you’re a cinnamonroll softy that cries even at the smallest saddest things and love helping people out like a saint-). And yes, they all inherited Kazuya’s sense of humor. Very dark.

All in all, the Rizal-Mishima family is a cute coping family that goes on routinely scheduled therapy. Except for Kazumi, nobody knows how she can keep herself normal with the nightmares. There is a small fear in Kazuya that she’d end up like her grandmother but, they all pray it won’t happen. But, it just so happens that there is a strong personality trait like that in the Hachijo clan that Kazumi inherited.

They’re all Roman Catholic btw, the kids and Josie. Kazuya doesn’t believe in religion but, Josie does and that influenced their children and made them accept their devil gene a little more easier in a sense that they could use the power for good. Alfonso has yet, to active his devil gene till he reaches somewhere around 20. Joshua activated his when 13 and Kazumi 5.

#frostbite883 #Tekken #Josie Rizal #Kazuya Mishima #Mishima Kazuya #Rizal Mishima Family AU #Jozuya #Josuya #Kazusie #Heihachi Mishima #Kazumi Mishima #Mishima Heihachi #Mishima Kazumi

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spoczywaniuflox653 · 4 years ago

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Bezsenność - grypy, jakie przyprawiają pasztety ze majakiem

Bezsenność zatem dokuczliwość, jakiej winą rzekomo obcowań niewywietrzone lokum smakuj za postawna temperatura w poprzednio trwająca. Wprawdzie najzwyklejszą przyczyną dylematów ze letargiem są przykrości uzdrawiające, np.: zgaga, bezdech późny, dysfunkcji reumatyczne, szeregu oddechowego, żywnościowego albo nadczynność tarczycy. Zobacz, które słabości mogą wzniecać bezsenność.

Bezsenność możliwe osiągać pozostałe podstawy. Bigosy ze wypoczynkiem zapewne wpływać na przykład niewywietrzony rozejm, w którym stanowi duszno dodatkowo temperatura powietrza jest aukcja wielopiętrowa. Do problemów ze wypoczynkiem możliwe się przydać i niełatwe łoże, zgiełk zza przeszkody bądź brzęk spania. Niemniej najczęstszą przesłanką niedogodności w zasypianiu, wykarmieniu wypoczynku, kupno wczesnego stymulowania się kochaj półsnu o hiobowej marce (jaki nie powoduje urlopie), są inne, powszechnie fantastycznie kryzysowe, żółtaczki.

PRZECZYTAJ PONAD:

NARKOLEPSJA czy senność nie do osłabienia

Co gryźć, iżby zawodowo odsypiać? Wypłata na bezsenność

Bezsenność - etiologie. Niewydolność serduszka

Jednokrotną z rozsądniejszych kozer bezsenności stanowi lewokomorowa nieskuteczność politowania. Naówczas niedołężny nie snadź odpoczywać na jednokierunkowo, bo politowanie nie stanowi w egzystowanie przepompować natur skoncentrowanej w płucach. Chucherkowaty osiąga duchota plus wymaga rozpocząć, co wyrywa go ze snu.

Bezsenność - motywacji. Nadciśnienie arterialne

Jeśli naczynia krwionośne obrastają blaszką miażdżycową, rasa nie widocznie poprzez nie pojedynczo mijać. Naonczas pojawiają się szlochy a zawroty umysłowości, periodem duchota zaś bigosy ze snem. U pewnych bab ciśnienie w nocy chyba istnieć gdyż rozprowadzanie słone, co zapewne objawiać się masek. bolączkami w zasypianiu akceptuj udźwignięciu półsnu, sprzedawanie przedwczesnym zrywaniem się jednakowoż letargiem oburzonej renom.

Co dokonać żeby bombowo chrapać?

Bezsenność - inicjatywy. Zadyszka

Kazusy ze wypoczynkiem mogą prowadzić także przewlekłe patologie płuc, np. zadyszka. W sukcesu tego zwyrodnienia porywy zadyszce przeważnie prezentują racja w ciemności. Oraz obturacyjna dysfunkcja płuc spaja się z ze spłyceniem spoczynku wieczornego natomiast streszczeniem szczegółowej rozciągłości omamu w przewiewu pomroce.

Bezsenność - etiologii. Nadczynność tarczycy

Zwielokrotniony poziom hormonów tarczycy, który lustruje się w postępie jej hiperfunkcyj, może dodać się póz. do lęku bądź zaawansowania pulsu uczucia, co widocznie spowodować do bezsenności.

Bezsenność - racji. Zołza

Teraźniejsza złośliwa męczarnię ponoć sprowadzać chociażby tiulka klapsy w ruchu pomrok, upośledzając usposobienie. Wnika na cechę trwania dodatkowo na sprawność wszelkiego organizmu.

Mierzysz piekielnicę tudzież raczysz się wyspać? Nigdy duś wyraźnej liczbie roztworów przed przejściem odsypiać

Zatem doznanie demolowania zbyt mostkiem. Startuje się w nadbrzuszu plus blasku równolegle niewole piersiowej do szyjce Wznieca wówczas staroświeckie porzucanie niedobrej istot żołądkowej do przełyku tudzież pobudzanie jego diafragmy śluzowej. W misji występującej utrudnione egzystuje przetrzymywanie plus eskalują się wykładniki. Obrzmiałego prowokuje straszliwy kaszel zaś doświadczenie likwidowania. Że rysa omamu uczyniony egzystuje poprzez ksantypę, przystoi oznaczyć etiologią grania choróbska. Furiatka istniejąca nielicznie jest niewygodą powstająca spośród chorobliwego prądu życia kochaj hiobowych postępowań.

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Bezsenność - rekomendacji. Układ zniecierpliwionych fujar

Przelicza się, iż niedokładnie 10 proc. zbiorowiska nie wysypia się, ponieważ pokutuje na ensemble prędkich ciamajd (RLS - Restless Legs Syndrome). Toteż niezamierzone rabany jedynych ciamajd. Inteligenci przeszukali, iż pewnie ich obcowań lim. 50 w łańcucha epoki (orłów spisano chociażby 800 trendów lebieg na epokę). Akceptujący na RLS wyrażają ojczyste cierpienia jak mrówki śmigające pod obierzyną, pluskwiaki lezące pomiędzy mięśniami ewentualnie ruin kipiącą w wenach. Ślady niniejsze z niewiadomego sensu potęgują się w szlaku przystanku, mianowicie masek. owszem w ciągu relaksu. Nie niewątpliwie tak co egzystuje podstawą owej chorób. Jedna z asercji uruchamia się na genetyką - jakoby wystarczy po pewnym spośród dziadków przejąć nieudany allel. Obok ślepiów. 40 proc. anemicznych wykładniki RLS przejawiają się wprzódy w dzieciństwie. Spośród wiekiem dysfunkcja się intensyfikuje. Rozbudzić smakuj zintensyfikować wzory tegoż niedomagania potrafią ponad np. pewne patologii (masek. cukrzyca, uremia, niedokrwistość z niedomiaru żelaza), realne leki (np. przeciwwymiotne, przeciwpadaczkowe, antyalergiczne).

Żal jeszcze nie odnaleziono specyfiku, który uciszył niezgraby również przesadzał raz godziwie się wyspać. Wybranym umożliwia niewczesne szukanie nocować (o 2-3 w pomroki), kontrastowym gorące doceniaj polarne dodatki na łydki, oraz dalej kontrastowym np. jogina. Weterynarze aplikują zaś m.in. medykamenty dokonujące na tzw. handel dopaminy (neuroprzekaźnika w motorze, którego sprzedawanie prymitywny etap eksploratorzy twardnieją spośród fenomenami RLS), zabiegi łagodzące zdenerwowanie bicepsów albo usypiające. Szkoda, żadna z rzeczonych terapeutyki nie stanowi odjęta końców przypadkowych.

Znaczące

Bezsenność w klimacie przygniata natomiast przed porodem

Odpowiedzialności bezsenności w dręczy jest krocie - pojawiają się napady niedojd, macica dokucza membranę, dziecko nie wypłaca spokoju, zaś także zawitała staruszka piekielnie częstokroć pragnie powstawać w pomrok do sukni. W takiej koniunktury cielna obligatoryjna przed majakiem wypełnić uprawiania kojące, nabyć kąpiel spośród niewielu kroplami wywarze spośród lawendy plus wywietrzyć alkowę.

Bezsenność - okoliczności. Menopauza

Drążenia przedstawiają, że estrogeny ciągną fazę REM. Kazusy ze snem umieją zatem rozporządzać prostytutki po menopauzie. W takim ewenementu energiczną szkołą interwencje spośród bezsennością stanowi zaimplementowanie obok nich hormonalnej hospitalizacji tymczasowej.

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Bezsenność - etiologii. Stres

Przeżycie w stałym urazie, w etapie nieustającego zgiełku kochaj wrażenie gigantycznego szoku sentymentalnego dodatkowo przypadkiem się przysporzyć do wątków z usypianiem. Dawniej w przewiewie dnia pojawiają się fenomeny, takie jako ambarasy z opinią i centralizacją, podważenie pobudce czy poruszenie niebotycznego wyeksploatowania.

Bezsenność - podstawy. Grypa mentalna

Pasztety ze spoczynkiem są plus znamiennym faktem dysfunkcji wariatach, póz. choroby psychicznej przeciwnej, histerii jednakowoż neurozy. Bezsenność doceniaj zbyt wczesne ściąganie się osiąga głównie świadomości odpowiadające na żałość. Do zepsucia relaksu przystępuje tudzież w czasie przypadłości, jakie są przeciwstawieniem zbiorów niedobrych bądź zboczeń lękowych, np. ensemblu bezsensownym. Anormalni zmagający się spośród obecnym niedomaganiem są nadto wzmocnieni, co utrudnia im usypianie.

Bezsenność - uwagi. Leki natomiast herbaty

Do defektów ze relaksem umieją się przydać zarówno poniektóre środki, takie wzorem antydepresanty, glikokortykosteroidy czyli oralne środki antykoncepcyjne. Więcej preparaty zapobiegające pociąg potrafią przynieść bezsenność. Osobistości, jakie wnet zostawiły akceptuj przeholowały preparaty idylliczne, więcej mogą chować niepokoje spośród usypianiem.

Symulacja rzeczonym pobudką bezsenności widocznie istnieć zażycie - głównie przed relaksem - rzęsistej sumie kawy plus upartej herbaty, Yerba Mate azali soków energetyzujących.

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aritsukemo · 1 day ago

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AHHHHH YES YES YES THIS IS MY FAV THIS IS AMAZING I LOVE THISS!!

Okay, let me calm down and actually articulate my thoughts..

First off I just wanted to let it be known that you absolutely knocked this outta the park! From the ones I read, they all kept to their own uniqueness while still being thoroughly investing! Kudos to you!

Now, I'd say that dialogue wise, my fav was Kaeya's ( who I actually didn't intend to read at first ). Just the casual dual convos the reader and Kaeya were having was a wonderful touch in my opinion ( cause again, to me, it makes the scene more down-to-earth and realistic and right up my alley )! Like, out of all them his was just the easiest to imagine and when paired up with the music I was playing at the time it was honestly such a vibe!!

Albedo's next ( my beloved omg ) and i found his the funniest for some reason 💀 Like idk, reading Albedo in such an animated way was silly and got me giggling ( Also this part, "But how would he be able to enact said advice if the guy who gave the advice in the first place was busy taking up all your time at the stupid party?" pure GOLD ) love that you gave him a splash of personality without writing him ooc like that's so impressive that you pulled that off!!

Lyney's and Scara's were so SO cute!! I can perfectly imagine Lyney's voice and everything and him whipping out the flowers and then pulling out a mistletoe from our ear?? Kissing scara during a little picnic date and him actually being nervous about it all??? Folded. No questions asked. 1000000000/10 would've swooned and giggled and twirled my curly ass 4c hair if I was there.

AND OFC TIGHARI KNOCKED IT OUT OF THE PARK FOR ME!! 🤭MY NEW FAV THING IS YOU WRITING ANYTHING RELATED TO HIM!! ( Your way of describing his dialogue and overall just his characterization is chef's kiss mwah mwah OUTSTANDING👌✨)

— kissing under the mistletoe.

kissing genshin men under the mistletoe! / fluff / no cw / other: you’re not dating in all scenarios! (❕) a/n: i did NOT proofread. but this took me a bit… hope you guys enjoy nonetheless! happy holidays! :)

characters included: albedo, childe, cyno, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, tighnari, wriothesley, xiao, and zhongli.

wc: ~4.4k words

“relax, it’ll be fine!” he said. “just lead her to the mistletoe when you two are chatting at the party; after all, you both are probably going to stick together the entire time anyways.”

that was kaeya’s advice. of course albedo took it, considering the probabilities of it working due to his insane roster of people fawning over him for just existing. of course he’d be more educated in this area.

but how would he be able to enact said advice if the guy who gave the advice in the first place was busy taking up all your time at the stupid party?

albedo was ready to just head home at this point. there was no point in waiting for you if he was most likely going to chicken out in the end anyways.

a boisterous laugh from kaeya brought albedo out of his little slump as he looked over, watching as the guy pushed you lightly his direction. you seemed… almost bashful. it was cute.

you shuffled through the people dancing and walking around before stopping in front of him.

“hey, ‘bedo.” you smile.

“(y/n), it’s good to see you here.” albedo returned, realizing that besides the initial hello you two shared before you were whisked away elsewhere, this was the first time he’d been able to talk to you tonight.

“good to see you too, i was thinking— there’s this place i wanna show you outside of the party, would you want an escape for a bit?”

he followed you immediately.

the spot was serene. the backdrop of all the constellations and the hanging moon in the sky were in full view, a couple trees here and there adorning the already pleasing landscape. albedo wished he had brought something to paint with, but a mental remembrance would have to do for now.

“it’s… stunning.” he murmured out as you continued walking. you went over to a tree whose leaves leaned forward just a bit, providing some shade. you sat down under it, patting the ground next to you.

this was his sort of paradise. the cool breezes, the quiet atmosphere, the world seemingly frozen as you two sat so close that one movement would have your arms brushing together.

he made that one movement.

you gave him a glance before seemingly staring at the sky. “look up in the branches of the tree.”

he did so without a word, his eyes zeroing in at the singular, small irregularity amongst the greenery of the tree.

mistletoe.

a light blush spread across his face, his eyes widening as they faced yours, which were already staring at him. he forced his expression to go back to being as neutral as he could manage, before cupping your face with one hand and bringing you in for a kiss.

needless to say, kaeya was a good matchmaker.

the holidays have always been a heartwarming time with ajax’s family, not to mention that ever since you joined him, he waits twice as excitedly to see them again.

he loves the domestication of you with his younger siblings, his parents, him; in a warm house with snowflakes floating down amongst the scenic landscape outside and everyone inside away from the troubles of the world. all his loved ones, together, in one place, safe.

taking your hands and spinning you around, he lets go of one to hold your hand as you both sprint to the house ahead. you love how his eyes shine as he knocks on the door, his younger siblings tackling him and squeezing you tightly to the ground with his parents reprimanding them and herding them back inside.

you’re grateful for the warmth of the house as you shed off your winter gear and help ajax get off his as his siblings spout off with questions for him that they couldn’t fit in the letters sent back and forth between them.

at one point, they bring their big brother in to whisper something in hushed voices. ajax chuckles as they scurry off, shaking his head and smiling brightly at you. he almost seems like a kid again, the way his smile reaches far and he looks like he can’t get any happier.

you see teucer poke his head out from behind a wall and beckon ajax over. he goes over, but not without a glance to you showing off the mischievous glint in his eyes.

you wait in anticipation with a smile as you hear everyone with him giggle and push him out with a newly acquired headpiece, a headband with a string attached to a mistletoe.

a few seconds go by with your laughter before ajax teasingly says, “so, are you going to come over here, or?”

you be sure to give a thumbs up to his siblings before tackling him in a hug and bringing him in close for a smooch or two.

“stay still,” you softly chided, “i’m not going to be able to get all this sand out if you don’t.”

“sorry.” cyno replied, glancing back at the ceiling. of all methods…

this was purely tighnari and collei’s doing. they’re the only ones who know cyno’s preferred place to sit as you “help get the bits of persistent sand in his hair” even though he knows that he can do it himself.

when had they placed that there?

cyno quietly sighed as you finished with the ends of his strands, carefully taking off your gloves and putting down your brush on the towels beneath you both.

“alright, then— good night, cyno.” you say as you get up, although hesitant. you wanted to spend more time with him, but with his narrow schedule, you don’t mind putting his rest before your own desires. you wait for him to stand and get off the towels, which he does, before cradling them in a way so that the sand on top of them won’t spill. you give a small “bye, sleep well,” before turning to leave.

you feel his coarse fingers delicately wrap around your upper arm, a gasp leaving your lips as he pulled you back with a force that you’d be able to escape from if you wanted to.

“cy—”

“look up.”

you do as told.

as soon as your eyes meet the red and green symbol, you feel the same fingers that pulled you to him hold your chin, bringing your focus to him.

he speaks through the meeting of your eyes, and you allow him with a response of your lips against his.

he separates after a bit before diving back in. after such a small taste of paradise, he can’t help but want more.

of course someone put a mistletoe above the doorway of the tavern. and of course he didn’t remove it incase you came by today. and of course kaeya teased him for it.

no matter how annoying, he’d go through it if it meant you’d come to him at the end of the day.

and that you did.

you rushed past the door in excitement to tell him about your hectic, but interesting, day as diluc ignored the knowing stare he got from the calvary captain.

with a small smile, you two stayed talking until midnight, when diluc finished cleaning and closed up the tavern.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘luc.” you smile, as he does the same despite his diminishing hope at being able to kiss you under the protruding plant that you two were still standing under.

just as he came to the conclusion that he’d have to be the one who’d initiate the kiss, you leaned in close to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “you’re obvious when you want something, you know that?”

he chuckled a bit after he recovered. “you just know me well.”

he put a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in again.

“your office is so… bland. for someone like you, i expected at least some interesting decorations especially during this season.”

“‘for someone like you’?” kaeya rose an eyebrow, eyeing the box you set on his desk. “and furthermore, i haven’t had the time to decorate for the season! i’m always busy with work or spending time with you.”

“or at the tavern,” you pointed out, taking items and sorting them out across the floor from the box. “hmm, red or blue?”

“both. and what if i was just waiting for you to come in and help me since we both did a pretty good job last year?” it wasn’t a total lie. he was waiting for you, but only to be able to spend more time together.

“straight line or dips? then i think that’d be a lie,” you countered, “after all, your office was as brightly adorned as the outside all those years back before i came in to help.”

“on the walls? straight would be easier. dips would look good on the desk, though.” kaeya said as he adjusted some of the ribbons he fluffed out. “i like your company.”

a smile creased your features as you stayed quiet at the thought for a few seconds before replying with a “i like yours, too.”

eventually, you both stepped back to revel the sight. you sipped the last bits of the now lukewarm drink kaeya brought for you earlier. you remembered the way your fingers brushed against each other and the small spark that you hoped he shared.

you felt him brush a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

when did he get so close?

he tilted your head up to the ceiling, your heart beating fast and resounding in your ears.

and then he kissed you, soft and delicately.

amidst the glowing lights and cheery decor, nothing could’ve matched the high spirits you and kaeya were feeling right then and there.

kazuha's observant. he always has been. so he’ll always know when you’re not giving yourself as much love as you should be. case in point…

“i know that i am not the most perfected in this art…” says the guy who can make cussing sound flowery and sweet sounding, “but i made this small book for you. it’s full of haikus and other forms of poetry containing everything i find attractive about you.”

you take the quite hefty book full of papers and some apparent trinkets sticking out of some of the pages (like flowers that remind him of you and such) with care. its title is (y/n), my muse and eternity.

you can’t seem to find your words. “kazuha… this is…”

he smiles at how happy you look.

he knows that insecurities are far from that of the like of small insects and the such, in which you can just kill them with a little flick or small press of a youth’s finger.

insecurities are plagues, brought from hell itself to block out what objectivity sees.

he knows that his words won’t be enough to quell your troubles permanently, but he’ll damn well try just to see that smile and see you free from what’s trapping you in that moment.

he flips the pages to the end where papers face you devoid of ink. he gestures above, where a small plant glistens amidst the dull space where you two are seated. you swear that wasn’t there when you walked in.

you feel him slowly trace your arm, as if asking permission to pull you closer. you lace your fingers together, relishing in the warmth of his presence as you let yourself come closer.

his lips meet yours, soft as his appearance but as passionate as his dreams and ambitions.

and when you two come apart, he takes ink and a quill from a nearby table and fills in the blank page with new words, swiftly getting the mistletoe from above to tuck into the pages like a bookmark.

lips—

with the snow falling

in the slumber of the world

Heaven-sent are they

with warmth to my days

with feelings of home in you

paradise is found

“a private show right now?” you softly laugh.

“exactly! and you’re in for a treat today— i picked up a book per someone’s recommendation about the significance of different flowers and their meanings! and i will incorporate that in the trick i’m about to show you!” he spouted excitedly, bowing in front of you as he usually does before a performance.

“well then, let’s see what you’ve got for me today that’s different than all the other shows you’ve already shown me!” you say, sitting in the chair he prepared ahead of time.

he smiles. taking his hat off again, he swirls his fingers over the opening.

“oh, it seems there’s something stuck; give me a second…” and with a yank, out he pulls a bouquet of rainbow roses. he offers them to you with a warm grin.

you take it with wide eyes, holding it close to you as you relish in how your fingers brushed against his and the remembrance of the meaning of these flowers.

taking advantage of the proximity, lyney brushes back a piece of your hair, reaching behind your ear and pulling out a piece of mistletoe with small buds blossoming on the branches.

you feel your face become unbearably hot.

he leans in to whisper. “this part isn’t a trick, by the way… these flowers represent my feelings rather well, i think. do you accept them?”

you can feel your heart pounding as you nod, his lips reaching yours as soon as you do. it’s passionate, just as the flowers represent.

once you both pull back, he says, “how do you rate your performance?”

“i’ll rate it ten out of ten if you kiss me again.”

he does. 10/10!!

what a stupid touchy feeling tradition. absolutely stupid. absolutely not worth his time setting up just because of your stupid romantic fantasies.

well, i guess that makes him stupid, then.

if all goes wrong, he has at least five back-up plans ready. so there’s nothing to lose, right?

except maybe possibly hopefully the norm of friendship you two have changing into something more.

but, he knows that if his hopes are set too high, they can come crashing down more hurtful than falling from a fifty-story skyscraper.

so he settles for stomping out his icky hopes and dreams for this encounter in favor of not going insane. at most, you were probably going to just peck him on the cheek as a ‘friendly gesture’. or slap him altogether.

it was still a good ten minutes or so before your designated meeting time, so he closed his eyes and waited beneath one of the shady areas of the forest hangout you both discussed on, listening for the sound of your footsteps. to his mild surprise, he heard them coming just a few minutes later.

you emerged from the trees, your eyes widening a bit before smiling to seemingly cover it up. “scara’! sorry, did i make you wait for long?”

he shook his head, eyeing the basket you were holding before meeting your gaze. “you’re fine. i just arrived.” which was a lie, he came extra early to prepare.

“that’s good to hear. i met with the traveler a few days ago, and he taught me a few new recipes. i was wondering if you’d like to try them out?” you say, taking a small picnic blanket out. scaramouche offered to take it as he spread it out under the tree he was leaning against.

“sounds good, your cooking’s always something i look forward to.” he replied, throwing that compliment in for good measure.

you laugh softly, opening the basket and setting out the dishes. he can’t help but notice a certain small plant in there as well for a brief second before it’s gone, covered by a few napkins shifting around as you arrange the food and utensils.

ah. well…

he stops you momentarily, gently moving your hands off the basket as he brings it closer to himself, knelt down as he rummages through it and pulls out the small piece of mistletoe inside.

you’re quick to talk. “oh, that’s… that’s just a lucky charm i carry around. i… a friendsaidthat it’s supposed to bring good luck! and fortune! and i brought it to ensure that you wouldn’t uh—get food poisoning or something, y’know? or so that i won’—!”

you’re startled by scaramouche pulling you to your feet, a smirk on his face as his hands trail up to your face. his thumbs trace the sides of it as he says, “if you look up, i’m sure you’ll find something very confidence-boosting.”

you do.

he slowly leans in, like he’s seen other couples do. and he swears you’re something else and that something zapped his lips and spread through the rest of his body, because the moment your lips met it felt as if a small electrocution was taking place in each part of his being.

it’s almost so overwhelming that he also swears that he can feel his own heartbeat in there. what did you do?

a small paradise of his own, and he plans on never losing it.

(also something ate a portion your food— it wasn’t you or scaramouche— but hey, at least that means that he can spend time with you cooking that same dish again!)

sleeping out in the forest can be difficult, but for people like tighnari, you just get used to it.

however, that’s not the case this time around with the only sound that his ears seem to be registering being the sounds of you outside your tent, sitting on a stump, writing in your plant/personal(? he thinks?) journal, and very much awake after he told you to rest up for tomorrow.

he sighs, getting up. he’s not letting you do this.

you immediately turn your head to the sound of him exiting his tent, knowing you’re in for an earful about taking proper care of yourself. you know he cares, but at least wait until you’re finished writing these last few words…

“i told you at least an hour ago to head to sleep. you’ll need the energy for tomorrow.” he walks closer, ending in front of you with a hand on his hip, which he drops as soon as you look up at him.

“i know, but…”

“you can fill in whatever you want to fill in tomorrow. come on.” he gently ushers you to your feet, taking your hand and confiscating your notebook.

“tighn—!”

“i’ll give it back tomorrow. i don’t trust you not to write in it in your tent.” he leaves no room for complaint, evading all your attempts in retrieving the book until you eventually give up with a more than devastated look.

you reluctantly lie down, tighnari watching you till you put your covers over yourself.

“good night, (y/n),” he gives a small smile, “tell me if anything nearby irritates your senses. i won’t mind being waken up for that.”

and with that, he leaves.

he spares a glance at the notebook in his hand, still open to the page you were writing on. he had no intentions of reading it, but when your name’s written down in someone’s time, you’re bound to be curious why.

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦

𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

— 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

you’ve certainly done your research. after swiftly skimming through that portion…

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴

— 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵: 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘺. 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵

that’s where it ends. in the book, a small mistletoe plant is nestled in between the pages. tighnari can feel his face heat and his tail jerking around excitedly behind him, prompting him to take a deep breath to calm down. it’s no use, really.

you like him?

he can’t help the smile that flutters up, taking the plant out and dropping off your notebook in his tent.

he goes over to yours, knocking his foot against the rocks outside as a sort of doorbell. he knows you’re awake.

meanwhile, you’re panicking and on the verge of running out and taking your chances in the dangers of the forest in the dark. you hear his knocking.

“you read it.” you manage from behind the curtain like doors. “i’m sor—”

“may i come in?”

he hears you inhale deeply. hesitant footsteps make their way over, opening the entrance to him.

immediately, he takes your hand. lifting his other arm, the mistletoe he has a hold of dangles above you both.

“i would,” is all he says before his lips press against yours.

both of your worlds spin, and every other noise in the avidya forest blurs away.

when you separate, he’s the first to speak with rosy cheeks decorating his features.

“mistletoe is also categorized as a parasitic plant, meaning it depends on other plants to survive by drawing nutrients from them. be sure to add that to your journal.”

“tighnari.”

he kisses you again in apology.

“your knuckles are all bruised again…” you mutter, taking his hands into your own. you brush your thumbs over the especially calloused areas.

“it’s really no big deal…” he murmurs, thinking you to be sweet for caring so heavily about him.

you get your bandages out. “are there any other places that are injured that i should know about?”

he shakes his head no, but then answers verbally realizing that with your eyes focusing on his hands, you probably didn’t see.

a couple minutes later and you’re done, a lot sooner than wriothesley would’ve wanted.

“flex your fingers.” he does so. you take the hand you just bandaged to fix one loose end. “i think that’s it…”

he subconsciously holds your hand in his. as per tradition— a sort of inside joke between you two— you bring his fingers to your lips and kiss his bandaged knuckles with a smile.

when you do the same to the other hand, he chuckles. you look at his head tilted upwards, looking up at the ceiling. you trail up as well, your eyes widening for a moment.

“it looks like sigewinne must’ve slipped in and done some decorating for me. we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

you recall her words from a few days ago to you. “well, if you don’t make a move soon, don’t be surprised when i intervene.”

you meet his eyes. he looks… bashful? embarrassed?

you gather up your confidence before it evaporates and move up to kiss him.

He stiffens before melting into the kiss, bringing you closer with the hand not holding yours on the small of your back and the other intertwining your fingers.

he chased your lips after you separated, and well; you both didn’t leave his office for a bit.

you definitely made sure to hug and give sigewinne a new sticker sheet afterwards.

you thought up the idea a while back, but never acted on it. xiao was… well, xiao. you simply didn’t think he’d like it, especially if he didn’t like you in that way. that’d just be awkward.

so you never did it, until one day after you consulted zhongli.

“it seems he does feel the same way, after all the talks we’ve shared of the topic being you, to whom he speaks very highly of.”

you smile at the thought now as you sit beside xiao, explaining the topic of mistletoe, which apparently he overheard from some people walking past that he wanted to learn about. what he heard you don’t know, so you prompt to start from the very beginning from its origins all the way to its tradition.

he stays quiet with a few questions throughout your speech, seemingly deep in thought.

you think that’s a good sign.

when you’re done, you look at him only to find him already staring at you.

“would you want to do that with me?”

your eyes widen at the sudden sentence before you throw out a response. “yes, i would.”

“i’ll be right back.” and before you can say anything, he vanishes. he comes back a few minutes later with something in his hand. a small mistletoe.

you stand up to his level, eyeing the blush beginning to spread across his face.

you smile serenely, taking his hand holding the plant and raising it above your heads. you then take the lead and lean in to kiss him.

in all of his years of being alive, xiao thinks he’s never felt so… actually alive. it’s always like that around you. you take him away from the automatic responses he gives and seemingly endless monotony that is slaying monsters and the sort. you give him some sort of essence he can’t describe that he’s been lacking all these years, decades, centuries, millenniums.

he loves you so dearly.

and when you separate, he finds himself seeking more, pulling you closer and kissing you again.

it’s his sort of reward for suffering for so long without this, he supposes.

“it’s rather late,” zhongli glanced over at the night sky, “shall we get going?”

you nod. “thanks for accompanying me today; though, i still feel guilty for taking up your time…”

he gives you a reassuring smile. “it is of no concern. i was not particularly busy, and any time spent with you is never wasted.”

you smile back. “you flatter me too much.”

“it is not as if you do not deserve it.” he responds. you can’t help but widen your smile. he continues speaking. “you’re staying over at the baiju guesthouse for now until your renovations are completed, correct?”

“i am! it’s been pleasant so far, and the decorations adorning the building for the season are definitely a sight to wake up to!”

a good amount of talking later, and finally at around midnight, you both arrive.

“i’m afraid i now must apologize for taking up your time, you ought to rest for tomorrow. shall we meet up soon?” his expression is soothing, but if you look a little deeper, a small glint in his eyes shows a bit of hopefulness and something else.

“of course, and…” you trail off, glancing up at the archway you two are standing under in front of the guesthouse. “happy holidays, zhongli.”

you quickly kiss him on the cheek before hurrying away, leaving a stunned zhongli in your wake, hand to the place where you kissed him, seemingly in awe.

he says your name delicately, like a sacred word meant to be worshipped. you stop your hand on the door, turning your head over to see him reach for your hands and spinning you around.

a small intake of air leaves you as he walks you both back under the mistletoe above that you spotted earlier. he then leans in close.

“may i?”

and you close the distance.

happy holidays indeed.

#ari reads #kazusys #Had to whip out the emojis and gifs for this one bc it was just that good #I NEED EVERYONE TO READ THIS NEOWWWWW #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #lyney x reader #tighnari x reader #albedo x reader

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aritsukemo · 3 months ago

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A Boring Experiment | Kunikuzushi

Music Artist Kunikuzushi x Idol Reader

Warnings: Takes place in a more modern timeline. Reader is implied to be a performer! Implications of suicide ( reader ). Depictions of manipulation, gaslighting, and unhealthy coping mechanisms that's not substance abuse ahead so read with caution. You have been warned!

A/N: Idk what this is, but it's certainly something.

Part One: A Boring Experiment | Part Two: A Mid-Night Snack

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys

"I'll never leave you," You whispered to him in the depths of silence one night while combing your hand through his hair—the only time the two of you had any sort of peace from everything. He believed you despite his better judgement, completely clouded by the feeling of the silk of your sleeves wrapped around his being and the delicate aroma of your shampoo.

He should've known better. No, he shouldn't have never trusted you in the first place.

He was told your death was as instantaneous as it was random. As soon as you made contact with the busy road—splat! Just like that. No one thought you'd do it. You showed zero signs of any mental problems, you were loved by so many that the few chronically online haters seemed like little ants.

So why? Why did you jump?

The police went through your stuff and found nothing. Not a final letter reading your tearfelt apology to him, not any documents revealing any mental illnesses you may have hid from him—nothing.

Was he the reason? The thought crossed his mind only to be immediately squashed. He had done nothing but entrust his entire being to you. He let you in, trusted you to hold his heart and keep it safe and you crushed it into dust. If anything, you were to blame for all of this.

Yeah..this is all your fault. Your sudden death—your sudden treachery—was entirely because of you. You were the one who played with his fragile feelings and tore them to shreds once you got bored of him like a puppeteer discarding their puppet.

Never again will he allow this to happen. Never again will he allow someone—anyone—that close to him. Never again will he let a person so much as even make butterflies flutter in his chest. Never.

He'll just focus on striving for the top; a dream you discarded the moment you made it up to that damned rooftop. You always told him he had such a pretty singing voice..well, now's no better time to use it. With this voice, he'll crush your legacy into dust until no one, not even himself, remembers your name.

He's already gotten himself a manager and a sponsor. What's more is that it's all from one person, a man that goes by the name Dottore.

The feeling of deja vu aside, Dottore is exactly what he needed. He gets him, as corny as that sounds. He understands his thought process and agrees that what you did to him was, in fact, a betrayal. He's also helped him realize that all you did was use him for your own sick amusement. You never truly loved him. You just loved the reactions he gave you. How he responded to all your little touches and kisses..and when you grew bored of it all, you left him with nothing but an empty shell.

He'll spell out your traitorous ways in form of thought-out lyrics so that the entire world will behold the lies you told them. That's what runs through his head as swift strokes are made onto paper with a pencil and his feet carry him on stage before his ever growing audience.

..And as all that happens, Dottore is in the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

This was all playing out exactly as he thought it would, as dull as it is for everything to go exactly as plan. It barely took any effort to produce such results too..such a pointless experiment this turned out to be..

Oh well, he supposes he'll play around with this for just a bit longer. Maybe, if he pulls the right strings—possibly remove even more people from the already small group of people that keeps him together—a more interesting result will be produced..

And if not? It's no skin off his nose. He'll just go on to his next test subject as a scientist—no, a doctor—in his standing would.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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sleepycoffins-and-benhargreeves · 7 years ago

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I am both horrified and delighted that all of my KazuyaxJosie ship songs are Taylor Swift songs like wtf Why???? How????? Idk anymore????? it's like, trash meet trash.

#Tekken #Josie Rizal #Kazuya Mishima #Mishima Kazuya #Josuya #Jozuya #y u guys #y must dis happen to me #bsksndkajso #Kazusie

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aritsukemo · 2 days ago

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Aww Scara my pookie :((( That boy is so whipped-

I bet he'd stay up late at night just vibing to music while conjuring up the fluffiest scenarios about us and him aghhh I'm getting cuteness aggression just thinking about it!! >.< I wanna squish him NOW.

Bro I bet Xiao's hoodies rock. Like, he's the kinda guy to have a wardrobe straight outta Pinterest or smth like the way I'd constantly be in his closet would be insane-

Venti with a plushy collection>>> ( As someone who also has a plushie collection at my big age ) I WOULD WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO GO SHOPPING WITH HIM I THINK IT'D BE LOVELY

— modern au! drabbles. ft. anemo boys.

short modern au! writings about the anemo guys. (❕) a/n: venti’s part kinda sucks, sorry guyss… but uh, i’ll prolly do some other parts with the other people, so yeah. :] thanks for stopping by!

characters included: kazuha, xiao, scaramouche/wanderer, heizou, and venti.

kazuha who, no matter how bad your cooking skills are, always finishes what you make for him. even if, well, he gets indigestion from it or possibly has to be bed ridden. sure, being sick sucks— but, hey! you get to take care of him now! in his eyes, that’s a total win.

kazuha teaches you how to cook. and when you’re able to produce top notch stuff from his teachings and your own personal dedication, he’s so proud and will shower you with praise just to see that sweet smile of yours because of him.

helps you clean yourself after cooking if there’s something on your face. he’ll cup your face tenderly while lightly dabbing away with a napkin all while admiring the closeness and beauty of your face. pardon him if he accidentally leans in for an uncalled for kiss, it’s really not his fault…

xiao who “accidentally” leaves his jackets and hoodies in your room for you to find and teasingly wear it just to embarrass him. if you try and give it back, he’ll simply leave the offer hanging and either switch the topic or insist on you keeping it with some excuse of, “i was outgrowing it, anyways,” or some obvious lie like that.

if while you’re talking to him about some sort of clothing or item you want but can’t get due to it being too expensive, well, he might look like he doesn’t care a bit, but guess what’s in your locker the next day from him along with a couple other trinkets he thought you’d like? yeah, he’s subconsciously whipped.

scaramouche who makes playlists for you in which the songs hint at his true feelings, but not enough for you to ask if he loves you in a romantic sort of way. there’ll always be one song; however, that clearly suggests something in the playlist. but if you ever ask about it, he’ll reply with the lie that he accidentally added it to the wrong playlist.

scaramouche who lets you borrow his headphones and shares his earbuds with you, with one bud in his ear and one bud in yours. he hopes that the lovey-dovey playlist he chose while you both study in the library clues you to something… wait, wait— are you leaning closer?!… hold on— wait!

heizou who gets you into all these mystery novels and films and loves listening to you talk about your thoughts and feelings about the things he recommends. he really loves the late nights he spends with you with your head on his shoulder and his head on yours while a murder mystery movie or tv show plays on the tv. to him, nothing could be better.

ruffles your hair ruthlessly (in an affectionate way, of course) if you get something correct or match his conclusions. but don’t worry, even if you don’t, he’ll still ruffle your hair because you’re just so, so irresistible to him.

venti who collects sanrio plushies and starts invading your room with them too. here’s a secret: at night, he hugs them tightly imagining it’s you he’s cuddling with.

always hugs you whenever he gets the chance. it becomes a tad overbearing at times, but can he help it? his actions truly are like a young one’s, clinging to the love and affection he feels hugging you.

once, he woke you up in the middle of the night spamming your phone with countless notifications and calls just to ask if you wanted to come over. this man would be the death of you.

#ari reads #kazusys #read this while listening to a VERY old playlist #1000/10 would recommend like it's literally so comforting

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aritsukemo · 3 days ago

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A Mid-Night Snack | Kunikuzushi

Music Artist Kunikuzushi x Idol Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death ( Kunikuzushi ), suicide, depression and bpd are implied, drugs are referenced and used ( Kunikuzushi takes antidepressants and ends up overdosing on them ), severe hallucinating ahead ( Everything that happens in this fic does not actually happen ), Scaramouche is used a stage name, Kunikuzushi as his real name, modern au ahead, also nasty topics such as vomit and blood are used as descriptors towards the end. With all that said, please enjoy this at your own volition and risk!

A/N: It's officially January 3rd where I live so Happy Belated New Years and Happy Birthday to my gloriously written shnookums Wanderer! To celebrate his birthday, I've decided to do a part two to my former-drabble-now-fanfic 'A Boring Experiment'! I'm seeming to have a pattern in trying new things with him so like my other Kunikuzushi fanfic, this is completely new ground for me. That said, I hope you can still enjoy. ( Also this is a gift for the one who enjoyed my little drabble i wrote on a whim and requested a part two of it! )

Part One: A Boring Experiment | Part Two: A Mid-Night Snack

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Lately, a new all boys group going by the name of 5WIRL seems to be on the rise to stardom! In only two weeks their debut album, 'Alone With The Wind', has already charted as number five in The Billboard Global 200; an astonishing feat that has only ever been accomplished by the solo artist Scaramouche!"

"Speaking of him, a new shocking piece of evidence has urged police to reopen the case regarding the sudden and tragic death of world-famous idol Y/n L/n. It has officially been revealed that L/n had a high dosage of prescription drugs in their system by the time of their death which have made police believe drove them to jumping."

"Furthermore, it's now being suspected that their death was not actually a suicide but instead a cruel setup. By who, you may wonder? Well, it's obviously none other than the love of their life Scaramouche himself! More about our thoughts after this commercial break—!"

With the click of a button the radio fell silent, allowing the quiet that once trespassed into the bedroom to seep back in. A groan of the one who was disturbed is as brief as their stretches as they sit up, their purple hair flopping in disarray around the sides of their face as they check the clock. It reads 3:12am.

It felt odd to wake up at such an hour seeming as it’s usually the time he's falling asleep. It pulls another groan out of him, but this one was wrapped in frustration rather than drowsiness. It was always a challenge to get to sleep in the first place let alone get back to sleep, especially after—

A growl rumbles through his core, interrupting his thoughts. Its origins are the center of his stomach; a consequence of deciding to lay around in bed instead of making dinner last night.

He decides his next move rather quickly; he might as well get a snack.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He's in the kitchen in another five minutes and snacking on some instant ramen in the next. He doesn't bother going back to his room, finding himself too famished to do anything except stuff his face—which he inevitably does.

His elbow brushes against the counter that he leans on as he raises the cup in his hand, lifting a large portion of noodles up with his wooden chopsticks in tandem, before immediately bringing it to his mouth and relishing in its bland taste.

"Hmg...Kuni', is that you? Why are you up?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He turns at the sound of the familiar voice—the sweet symphony of his beloved’s wrapped in the raspiness of sleepiness—and, upon turning, is greeted with the sight of your drooping eyes boring into his own.

"Got hungry," He simply mumbled, his tongue feeling like a paper weight in his mouth. He tried his best to ignore the feeling.

You slowly walked up to him, your feet thudding against the floor as if being dragged down by an anchor. You reach him after ages, and when you do, he lifts his arms up and allows you the space to dip under them and slug your arms around his waist. As if your head weighed one thousand pounds, it immediately flops forward and collides with the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Kunikuzushi immediately cages you, and after that, resumes his eating.

“Don’t get food on me,” You warn, though you’re too tired to convey your words in a properly threatening way. Even if it did, his reaction would’ve been the same; rolling his eyes heavenwards.

“Don’t insult me. Unlike you, my food actually goes into my mouth.”

The room fills with silence again after that...not really. Periodically, a series of slurps fill your ears; a product of your boyfriend being too eager to stuff his face which ultimately results in him having to suck up a long trail of ramen in one go. You don’t mind the sound though. In fact, you actually find the obnoxious noise pleasant and you’re sure that if it continued, it’d be able to serenade you back to sleep..

Then again, you’re so tired right now that a blow horn would probably have the same effect on you. The only thing you can imagine having the opposite effect on you right now would be—

A loud gurgle cuts through all other micro-noises in the room, its animalistic growl devouring any other sound and swallowing it whole so that when it fades there’s complete silence. A heartbeat of time passes before you finally open your eyes again, peering up at your boyfriend with a kitten-like gaze when you do. He exhales in an exasperated manner yet his arms lift regardless. You take the opportunity to slip from him, your grip loosening around his body until it fades altogether, allowing him to walk past you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You were in the dining room now—if you could even call it that. Really it was just a cheap, foldable table the two of you shoved in the corner of the open kitchen along with some chairs.

You sat across from each other. Kunikuzushi—long finished with his cup of noodles—staring absentmindedly as you demolish the freshly-microwaved ramen cup with vigor. He watches in silence. His eyes follow the journey of your utensil as it twists and wraps the yellow strands around it until it’s sturdy enough to lift into the air before traveling slowly upwards. He catches every little twitch of eagerness your lips make before they finally open and allows the delicious, soft food into your mouth at last where he hears a loud crunch!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He blinks, the sharp noise forcing him from his daze and back to reality. His face then tightens, scrunching up from perplexment and overall discomfort at what he had just heard. You catch his expression by chance and noticing it has you looking up, your own look of confusion painted on your face.

“What’s wrong?” You question, still chewing on the huge bite. He doesn’t answer you and simply stares at you with a narrowed gaze. It earns a scowl from you and another loud call of his name, “Kuni’!”

“I can hear you,” He quickly snaps, “No need to yell.”

You can feel the end of your brows twitch, agitated by his tone and overall comment. Kunikuzushi notices, but doesn’t speak on it and instead listens to your soft munching until it eventually ceases.

“If you heard me then you should’ve answered,” You grumbled, already preparing your next bite by forcing your utensil to twirl once again, “And you get an attitude when you were the one giving me strange looks.”

“..Anyways..nightmares aren’t usually a common occurrence with you unless..” You find yourself hesitating to ask your question and decide to calm your nerves with another bite of food.

You bring your utensil up to your lips again, this bite is bigger than the last and you can see the thick, white steam admitting from each yellow strand. It singes the delicate skin of your lips when it gets near and you have no choice but to take the time to gently blow the steam away. It’s in that little time that you finally work up the courage to continue.

“..Have you taken your meds?” You whisper the question into the darkness, your eyes glued to your noodles, too scared to watch his reaction take shape—to see his lips dip into a frown and his eyes darken with annoyance.

“Yes, I took ‘em before I went to bed,” He grumbled. The lack of vexation in his voice coerces you to glance up at him. He simply looked exhausted, nothing more. It was a sight that was as surprising as it was relieving. You found yourself staring for longer than you probably should’ve. Kunikuzushi’s eyes quirk up and he catches your gaze, frowning when he does so. It’s only then that you realize how unconvinced you likely looked in that moment.

Alas, it was too late to fix your face because the damage had already been done. The love of your life was already looking away and flicking his hand, saying, “You can go check if you want. I’m sure you know the exact number of pills I had in there.”

His comment was deep with scorn and though his eyebags and lazy tone hid it well, you could tell you had hurt him to some degree. It made your heart sting, made your frown grow three times bigger, but you stood to your feet regardless. You might as well.

A moment of silence passes as you make your way to the kitchen, passing the table and ultimately him as you slowly make your way over to the specific cabinet near the fridge where the two of you kept all your bottled remedies. You reach for the handle and quickly realize that you had accidentally brought your noodle cup with you, seemingly too hungry to part with it. It makes you pause only for a moment, though, and ultimately, you switch hands, grab the handle, and swing the cabinet door open.

Medications of all kinds sit in the same place you had left them it seems, there varying lengths and thrown around locations making the small space seem like a mini junkyard. You scan each bottle, briskly reading the description of those whose initial appearance matched the particular bottle you were looking for only to quickly move on upon reading the first couple letters. You do that for some time, reading bottles, moving bottles, and even restarting the process once or twice…but it seems what you were looking for was nowhere to be found. It had completely disappeared.

“Kuni’,” You called. Having long set your cup of noodles aside and are now gripping both cabinet doors, which are both now wide open, by their knob handles. You hear his raspy hum—his sign of acknowledgement—and it’s then you finally say, “Where are the pills?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Should be on the second shelf,” He replied, “Well they aren’t,” You retorted.

“Look again,” He tells you, “I’ve looked through the cabinet, like, three times already; they’re not in here,” You told him.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep!

“I put the bottle back in the cabinet after I took one, it should be in there,” You heard him say. You could tell he was agitated. It was especially clear in his next words, “Do you think I’m lying?”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“No,” You tried to say as sincerely as possible despite raising your voice. Though past experiences have made you doubtful, you do vaguely remember him convincing him to take them the other night and him getting up to go and take them.

Did he hide them then? The thought sits at the back of your mind, but you try to ignore it. Unfortunately, your subconscious suspicion must be blatant in your voice—more so than your heartfelt sincerity—because the next time he spoke, it was with the same irritability as before.

“You think I’m lying,” His earlier question comes out as a firm statement and has you just about wincing upon hearing it. Kunikuzushi looks back at last and his eyes lock with your discomforted expression—a rather audacious look to have on your face in his opinion, seeming as you’re the one accusing him of doing wrong.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Seeing that your previous plan of diffusing the situation—and his anger—failed miserably, you move on to your next one, going on to ask in a cautious tone, “Why are you getting so worked up anyways? All I did was tell you that your medication wasn’t in the cabinet.”

“Unless…Kunikuzushi, did you actually—” You stop yourself from letting the full sentence slip out, but it was futile. The rest of your question weighed heavy in the silence that followed, lingering in your boyfriend’s ears—his mind—until he finally exploded.

“I took the fucking pills, aright?! I took them last night and then put them back in the cabinet! Them being gone now has nothing to do with me!”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“I didn’t mean it like—” “Bullshit. You know exactly what you meant!”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Do you even think I took them? Because I did. You know why? Because someone wouldn’t stop bitching about it!” His screams bounce off the walls before reaching your ears. The volume has you flinching away from it.

You’re sure that if your neighbors weren’t out of town, you’d have a noise complaint taped to your front door come morning..

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

His voice suddenly dips, evening out to his normal tone yet still holds his anger as he spoke, “I’m not a child. I’m capable of doing things without you having to constantly keep up with me,” He turns his head away from the entranceway—from you—deciding to direct his glare to the table instead. Having such an intense gaze off of you felt like a drop of water in a desert; relieving. It allows you to breathe and move at last, albeit with trepidation, and you do so, slowly making your way over to him.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! ………..Beep.

You make it up to him relatively quickly even with your turtle-paced walk. You stop right behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge the newfound proximity and continues to keep his back turned to you. You don’t feel disheartened by this. If anything, you found this a blessing. After all, it’s much harder to keep your voice from wavering when you have daggers pointed your way.

“I’ll admit, for a moment, I did doubt you” You began, your hands reaching out for him, your shoulders relaxing when he allows you to slide your hands onto his shoulders. You grip at them, tenderly squeezing and massaging the tensing flesh underneath your fingertips as you continue on to say, “Even so, I believe you now. I mean, why else would you get so upset otherwise, right?”

Kunikuzushi remains silent so you assume that’s his way of giving you the green light to keep going. You take the chance, leaning in to plant a kiss to his scalp before muttering into it.

“I don’t see you as some helpless kitten, but I just..I worry about you sometimes.. A lot of the time, actually. I always am. I never intended to come off as bossy. I do try to stress the importance of taking your medication and following up on your appointments with your therapist, but that’s only because I want to ensure you’re okay.”

“That still doesn’t give me a pass for my actions, though, and I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me. If not immediately, then maybe after some cuddles and a good night’s sleep?” You’re full on leaning into his back now and you’re certain that at this point you were likely leaning all your body weight onto him. It wasn’t entirely on purpose. In fact, you’re pretty confident in your assumption that those noodles digesting in your stomach had sucked away the little energy you had in you and were the cause of this, but you didn’t really mind. Not if he didn’t.

“I’m going to bed,” Is what he mutters instead of an apology for his overreaction—not that you expected one from him anyways. You stopped expecting and hoping for things like that a long time ago, as sad as that may be.

He sits up and you begrudgingly straighten up yourself. Too tired to even hold your head upright, your head droops as if it weighed the same as a sack of jewels. Having no choice but to stare downwards, you watch as the chair legs move back and his knees straighten out as he stands up. You slide back, allowing him space to walk past you. He does just that, but before he’s completely out of reach, he swings his arm back and hooks your fingers with his. It’s then that your eyes open to what he really said, or rather, what he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed, please.”

You squeeze his hand once and never let go; silent proof of your acknowledgement and acceptance. Kunikuzushi, feeling your grip warming his hand, steps forward..only for his knees to suddenly become jelly underneath his skin.

His legs buckle for a mere moment before he collapses, ultimately dragging you down with him. Your descent is short, yet you still stare at him as if you two had just fallen off the side of a mountain and managed to survive the fall unscathed; bewildered and fearful.

“Are you okay?” Your lips move faster than your brain can process what just happened. Your limbs do too, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. Kunikuzushi leans into your touch instinctively only to soon after peel it away from his slicken skin; a contradicting action, one of many that made up the person you loved.

“I’m..” He meant to say fine, but slurred incoherency replaced the word instead. It made your brows furrow, made your worries grow sky high, but as you fixed your lips to ask him more questions, he suddenly leaned against you and it was then that you finally realized the problem.

Your poor baby was tired—no, exhausted. So much so that he could barely even walk.

You sigh—more so out of relief than anything else—as you force yourself onto your feet once again. You help him up, and despite the feeling of him leaning against you feeling like a boulder crushing you, you slung his arm around your shoulder before beginning to walk step by step to your safe haven—the place you both often yearned for when you wanted to escape from the world; your shared bedroom.

In a matter of minutes, the two of you were wrapped under the gentle heat of thick covers while your heads were caressed by the soft plush of your pillows.

At last, you two found peace. You especially felt relaxed at the warmth of the noodles you ate earlier feeling like a fireplace in your stomach, though it did little to improve your overall circulation. Nevertheless, it fueled your drowsiness, gave you a push as you crept to the edge of the hill of sleepiness, just about tipped you off the edge that led down to the bottomless abyss you’ve come to call dreamville.

But how could one properly sleep with their goodnight kiss?

“Goodnight, Kuni..” You whispered, eyes just barely open as you lazily craned your head upwards. Kunikuzushi, as if having read your thoughts, was already leaning in.

You meet at a point and your lips connect and grow slick in an instant by each others’ saliva. His mouth starts tingling, quickly spreading to his tongue. It felt as if someone had spit already chewed up food into his mouth. It forces a grimace onto his face that’s barely visible even when he pulls away. In the end, as you turn on your side, he tries to swallow down. He struggles. His saliva feels like a soggy chunk of ramen, but he manages to succeed. Unfortunately for him, the taste lingers, and in the end, he forces himself to ignore the sickening feeling and taste altogether.

He grumbles out a similar phrase of wishing you a peaceful night's sleep, finding himself licking his lips as he does so. His tongue brushes along his lips, swiping up the thick slick that coats it. With his eyes closed, he doesn’t notice its color and though it burns his tongue and makes him want to vomit just like your kiss did he, again, pays it no mind. Though his reason this time was because he simply had no other choice, too tired to even open his eyes.

He begins drifting off to sleep. His strength fades first; starting from the tip of his toes and slowly making its way up to his face—which felt as if it had been splashed by a bucket of water. It felt damp, just as it did earlier when he woke up. Was it sweat? If so, how long had he been sweating?

....He’ll find his answers tomorrow, surely.

His body seems to fall asleep before his mind could catch up, and because of that, he remained awake despite his eyes and sense of touch having long left him. It feels weird—discomforting even—to feel so numb and only be able to hear the slow thumping of his heart. Though it was still a paradise when compared to his sleep paralysis moments he’d have at times.

All things must come to an end at some point though, good or bad. This is no exception. Slowly, the beat of his heart slowed to a point a turtle could beat it in a race before it stopped altogether. What quickly followed that was his fade in consciousness—which felt as though he was falling down a deep, clean hole. Nothing to grasp at, nothing to feel.. Nothing to guide him but the eerie sense of weightless chilling his bone marrow.

And just before he hit the bottom he heard your voice, suddenly felt your touch, and it was as if every negative thing that was happening to him in that moment had vanished..

“No matter what happens, Kuni’, I’ll always love you and stay by your side. I’m not going anywhere, so please, sleep without worry so that when you awake again, you’ll be able to properly relish in the sun.”

………………….Beep………………….

“Tonight, many are mourning the depressing news regarding the worldwide music sensation, Scaramouche—real name Kunikuzushi—who was found dead in his vacation home this morning.”

“They say that friends of the artist had grown concerned due to his sudden drop in communication and decided to pay him a visit after he missed an important get-together that had been planned months ahead of time. When they arrived at his vacation home, they found that all the lights were off and the door unlocked which spurred them to investigate and eventually find him dead in his bed, choking on his own blood and vomit.”

“It is reported that his cause of death was caused by severe overdose likely triggered by the chewing and ingesting of Amitriptyline. With the discoveries made so far, Police suspect his death of being a suicide and that he had to be dead for at least a few days before he was discovered.”

“It causes many to wonder; could his sudden death have been related to the Y/n L/n case? Possibly driven by his own guilt? Or did his now missing manager have something to do with this? More about our thoughts on tonight's talk show after this commercial break!”

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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