#minamoto kou oneshot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

banjjakz · 1 year ago

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once upon a december (things i almost remember); hananene oneshot

On the first day of Christmas My true love sent to me: A partridge in a pear tree The wine glass slips from her left hand and crashes to the floor in an ear-shattering explosion. Dark red liquid – frigid and insidious – seeps between the gaps in her stockings, dyeing her toes crimson from the outside in. She can’t be bothered to cringe at the unpleasant sensation. No, Nene is more preoccupied with dropping the card, clutching her head, and letting out the first wail she’s released since last December.

(Or: Aoi went missing last Christmas, and the chilling bite of the new year rendered her case cold to the touch. This year, on December first, Nene opens an anonymous Christmas card to find a lock of deep purple hair. Terrified, jaded, and freshly incensed, she teams up with the boy next door to track down her best friend before it's too late.)

wc: ~9.7k warnings: horror; psychological thriller; kidnapping; gaslighting; implied drugging; murder mystery; stalking; manipulation; bad end

🖤 read on ao3 🖤

December is the coldest month.

December, for Nene, had not always been cold. December was once filled with warmth and laughter, joy and friction, a vibrant collage of pale golden sun leaking through the bleary overcast sky; beams of light bouncing from snow mound to snow mound in a grand display of merry acrobatics; a fireplace and a hearth and a cornucopia of store-bought curry, leftovers gifted generously by the neighbors, trials and many errors of family recipes lost in the muddled translation of time; cable-knit sweaters; worn leather boots; snowflakes on the tongue like a burst of magic spreading so cold, so rapidly across her body it threatened to burn her alive; and a friend, to join her in this winter wonderland.

December had not always been cold.

Nene, very desperately, tries to remind herself of that fact this year.

It certainly feels colder, but this is admittedly due in large part to her broken radiator. The same radiator she’s been meaning for months now to ask Minamoto Kou from across the street to come and tinker with. She doesn’t know why she keeps forgetting. She should have told him in April, when it first threw in the towel. Should have, should have, should have. Now it is December, and Nene shivers at her own dining table, like she’s seen a ghost. Now, it is December first, and she might as well have, because the ghosts of time’s past are beginning to claw their way from underneath her tissues flushed down the toilet, all her tears buried between threadbare pillowcases. Now, it is December first, and the skeletons in her closet begin to reanimate themselves, cracking their joints stiff from disuse, skulls grinning madly in sadistic preparation.

An anniversary requires fanfare, after all. Twenty-four days until the big event.

How, she thinks, numbly. How has it almost been a year? It’s been simultaneously the longest and yet the shortest expanse of time in her mortal experience of life. Just yesterday she’d been burying her face into Aoi’s neck, red-cheeked with laughter. Eons have passed since she last saw her best friend’s face.

Time works in funny ways when you’re depressed. So does depth perception, apparently; Nene almost brains herself skating across a haphazard patch of ice that runs jagged down her driveway. Her arms windmill, flailing wildly in an attempt to brace what she knows will be an inevitably nasty faceplant. Perfect. An amazing end to a fantastic day at the start of her favorite month of the year. Nene would cry, if she had any tears left to spare.

Someone above must get bored of watching her aimlessly struggle, because she’s able to snag ahold of the mailbox at the last second, effectively steadying her unsightly downfall. Dry, peeling fingers clutch at the hard metal tin with all the force of an animal cornered. It takes her a second to unclench, to exhale, to remember that she is no longer in peril. The tunnel vision fades. Her breathing evens out. The ringing in her ears subsides. She notices the meek red little flag, erect and upturned on the side of the mailbox, valiantly standing tall and bright amidst the grey dreary backdrop.

She hasn’t received mail in months.

Her bills are paid online, for the most part. She doesn’t have any close friends. Her family stopped trying to contact her months ago, when the cherry blossoms began to wilt in the storm drains. Now there are no fruit bearing trees, and Nene lives alone – truly alone – with no one to send her mail. No one she knows of, at least.

That last thought triggers something in the back of her brain, sharp and chilling and alarming all at once, a sensation she has not embraced for months now: self-preservation.

Suddenly anxious, Nene rips open the mouth of the metal box and peers inside. A lone ruby envelope greets her. Before she can think better of it, Nene snatches the thing and hastily fixes her mailbox to fit the lackluster, lonely image she’s more accustomed to: close-holed. Flag down.

She hustles up her front steps, huddled around the strange package like a mother protecting its wounded young. Her neighbors must think her insane, but Nene doesn’t care about that. She hasn’t cared since – well.

The house is cold, and dark. Shadows leap and jump in warm welcome as she meanders her way into the kitchen, flicking the right switch on the first try out of sheer muscle memory. All at once, her line of vision is illuminated in frosty fluorescents, rendering the pale wood and bloodless countertops an even more pallid hue. The dust that collects along the lone windowsill just above the sink unsettles itself at her arrival, motes floating benignly in the air, almost as though waving a shy little welcome home.

Her coat is shouldered to the tile floor. Her heels are kicked off somewhere near. The top two buttons of her work dress are popped open to allow for some breathing room. The bottle of wine she goes to uncork awaits her dutifully from the countertop, where she had uncorked it the day before, and the day before that, and even the day before that one. Tonight’s glass runs a little bit deeper, though. She has a feeling she might need it.

The first thing that strikes her as truly odd is the lack of a return address. She revolves the slim, rectangular envelope in one hand, inspecting it thoroughly from pristinely pressed edge to pristinely pressed edge, and yet she is unable to locate any address beyond her own, which is printed neatly in dark, black ink. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve guessed it had been printed directly on the surface, what with how evenly the characters are spaced from each other. An errant smudge blurs the last zero on her prefecture code, however, and Nene deduces that this was hand-written and hand-mailed – by whom, she’s yet to uncover.

It should disturb her more than it actually does, this piece of mystery mail. A literal scarlet letter resting innocently enough in her lap, its insignia black as night, its arrival marked by the year’s darkest hour. These past eleven months have numbed her, she thinks ruefully. What’s frozen cannot feel.

At worst, it’s a lame little prank from some of the kids on her street. The adults know better than to prod at her, but she’s caught some of the junior high kids messing about on her lawn right around dusk, completely unaware that her dark windows do not denote vacancy. She’s the strange woman in the strange house at the end of the lane, she knows. Tragedy has painted her desolate. Maybe this is a note poking fun at her late age, her living in solace, perhaps even her style of dress, which is just as muted and bland as the rest of her general surroundings.

Maybe it’s an urban legend, placed in her mailbox to frighten her, boldly proclaiming that something terrible will happen in seven days if she doesn’t forward the message immediately.

Maybe the sender was one digit, one character off, and this envelope isn’t even hers to claim in the first place.

Unenthused and fairly exhausted, Nene feels nothing as she unhurriedly splices the red lip with her thumb.

Her immediate reaction is confusion. There is a Christmas card inside. Her family doesn’t celebrate the holiday. She doesn’t have any friends at work, or in her neighborhood that celebrate the holiday.

A prank, she reasons. It’s not a farfetched notion.

As she gingerly pulls the card out of its snug red outfit, she’s greeted with the sight of the Western caricature of a robust, profoundly smiling Santa Claus, who grins up at her from his boisterous perch atop a sleigh wealthy with presents. HO, HO, HO! Read the English characters emblazoned above his head, bright like headlights. She feels caught in their glare.

Yep. Definitely a prank.

Like ripping off a band-aid, Nene flips open the card in one swift, violent motion.

And her heart stutters to a standstill.

All around her, the house freezes in place; the dust-motes shrink back, captivated in disbelief, their once amicable air now petrified with the abrupt shift in the air; the shadows at her feet shrink back in empathy; and even the skeletons in her closet quiet their clamor for a handful of terrible, awful, painstakingly potent seconds.

A lock of hair is tucked gently into the spine of the Christmas card. A lock of hair Nene remembers brushing, braiding, caressing, adorning with clips and bows and ribbons and ties. A lock of hair Nene had watched as a child cascade down from the smooth, scarless expanse of an unblemished ivory neck, all the way down to an impossibly tapered waist, slim and cinched and imprinted on her living room couch, in her kitchen chair, in her bed. A soft lock of hair. A purple lock of hair. A fresh lock of hair.

(It still smells like her shampoo.)

The card is white and red and green and festive, with only the following words written as any kind of explanation:

On the first day of Christmas

My true love sent to me:

A partridge in a pear tree

The wine glass slips from her left hand and crashes to the floor in an ear-shattering explosion. Dark red liquid – frigid and insidious – seeps between the gaps in her stockings, dyeing her toes crimson from the outside in. She can’t be bothered to cringe at the unpleasant sensation.

No, Nene is more preoccupied with dropping the card, clutching her head, and letting out the first wail she’s released since last December.

The “gifts” continue to arrive, after that first fateful day.

Nene, in all her discombobulated panic, scrambled to look up the English text from which the sender was pulling. It was a Christmas carol, apparently. One that went on to detail twelve days of presents sent from a secret admirer to their ‘true love.’ In accordance with the rhyme, Nene received parcels for twelve days – each containing some remnant of the previous day, and a new addition to the mix.

They were all pieces of Aoi.

Locks of hair. Soiled socks. Broken bits of jewelry. The ribbon Nene gifted her as a birthday present two years ago. All of it intimate, all of it freshly pressed into an airtight Ziplock bag – and all of it smelling freshly and distinctly of Aoi. These keepsakes, Nene was convinced, were not coveted posthumously. Despite what the police department decreed, Nene knew eleven months ago what she knows now: Aoi is alive. She must be. She must be.

And her captor isn’t done with her yet.

As the week trickles through her ruddy, cracked, trembling fingers, Nene weighs her options. She could seek legal help once more, but she doesn’t know if she trusts them to do their job right. Not after they’d given up so easily, had let Aoi’s memory fade from their logs and legal books like the final wisps of a fire smudged out. No, she couldn’t go to the police. She couldn’t reach Aoi’s family, hasn’t been able to since the investigation closed out in January and the Akanes minced no words when they voiced their contempt – and their blame – for just who, exactly, was at fault for their daughter’s disappearance.

(“You lived with her,” Mrs. Akane had said, quietly, “and saw nothing?”)

There is nobody else on which Nene can rely, except herself.

She devises her plan on the eve of the twelfth night.

I’ll stay home from work, she reasons. Turn of all the lights. Close all the blinds. Pretend not to be home. And watch the mailbox like a hawk.

Worst comes to worst, the only person who graces her front lawn is a dutiful delivery man. But still, Nene finds that hard to believe; the packages that reach her are pristinely placed with care and precision, arriving on an individual, consistent, and daily basis. Surely the faults of the very human Japanese national mail system would have hit a snag at least once during this entire operation. As such, Nene is led to believe that the culprit is hand-delivering these dark little omens.

And she is going to catch them in the act.

That Friday is a slow one. Nene rises with the sun, or what little of it manages to peer past the caliginous cloud of fog that overcasts the city. She makes her coffee. She settles into her armchair – the one tucked into an obscure corner of the living room, just out of eyeshot from the street beyond her drawn curtains – and she waits. And waits.

And waits.

She is waiting for so long that it surprises her when the sun flirts with the horizon’s edge, dipping his does into dusky twilight. This is usually the time of day when she comes home to a new parcel.

Surely, they haven’t forgotten. It’s the grand finale, after all.

Something is decidedly different, then.

The time, unfortunately, does get the best of her. Despite her best efforts, Nene is powerless to the exhaustion of the week, the fatigue of remaining still and alert for the better part of twelve hours, and the draining anxiety that’s plagued her from the moment she’d received that first card. She’s drifting off before she can catch herself, floating aimlessly, blissfully in a dreamless scape, brought back to the world of the living by an offensive CLANG!

Immediately, Nene jerks awake, rattled.

God dammit. How long had she been out for?

Ears ringing, eyes wide and teary, Nene sits and stews in the silent dark of the house, straining her ears to sus out any more noise. It’s late, judging by the opaque black that coats the living room with a thick, ominous mood. Nobody on her street – not even the spunky kids – are out this late.

Creeeeeak…

The squeal is faint, but telltale. The sound of metal hinges whining in protest. The mouth of her mailbox opening. The mailbox.

Nene, with shaking hands, peels back the curtain just wide enough to peer out of the window.

A dark, shadowy figure is right there on her front lawn. Two arms outstretched into the rusty, tin cage.

Bingo.

She’s on her feet and out the door before she has time to second-guess herself. In that moment, she cannot see the consequences of her actions; rather, what plagues Nene’s mind the most is are the locks of deep amethyst hair, the fingernail cuttings, the socks, the accessories, the used tissues, the empty lipstick tubes, and everything else that has been sent in a boldfaced taunt to provoke Nene into the very same reckless action she has no choice but to take now.

For Aoi, her heart screams as she throws open her front door and barrels into the street, This is for Aoi.

“STOP RIGHT THERE,” exclaims Nene, projection boosted by the copious amounts of adrenaline running rapid like wildfire through her pulsing veins. It is a powerful yell, a wounded shriek, and it startles the hooded figure so badly that they stumble backwards in surprise, catching their footing right underneath the streetlamp. When they look up, the violent yellow lighting is enough to illuminate their face just enough for Nene to make out some key identifying features, but – wait – isn’t that –

“Yugi-san?”

The man across from her giggles nervously. “Hi, Yashiro. I am aware that this looks very bad.”

She blinks. “No shit.”

Yugi Amane, her next-door neighbor. The other black sheep of their strange little cul de sac. She’s spoken to him only briefly in passing, and each time was an oddly pleasant surprise. On one particularly noticeable occasion, he even helped her carry her groceries inside, and let her cry on his shoulder when the gallon of milk she’d lugged all the way from the grocery store did, in fact, burst all over her kitchen floor. He’d been kind. Offered to clean it up, and then fetched her some more the next day.

That was six months ago. They haven’t spoken since.

“Look,” he begins, frazzled, hands in the air as if to show he means no harm, “I’m not the creep you’re looking for. Believe me.”

“The creep I’m looking for?” Asks Nene, wary.

“You know�� the… the guy? Who keeps stalking your mailbox?”

All the color drains from Nene’s face in an instant. “How do you know about—”

“I’m your next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, almost offended, “It would be stranger if I hadn’t noticed. He’s there every day, same time, hood up, face mask on. And, let’s be honest, Yashiro, you don’t have very many people over nowadays. Was I so wrong to be suspicious?”

“Excuse me?” Nene feels a vein threaten to burst from her forehead.

Yugi ignores her and barrels on. “So, I tried to catch him in the act tonight! Maybe rough him up a little bit! Teach him a lesson?”

“Teach him a lesson,” echoes Nene, hollowly. She eyes his body up and down. His five-foot-seven, rail-thin body, dwarfed by the egregious amounts of black fabric he’s swaddled himself in to fight against the cold. “You,” she repeats, just to clarify, “were going to teach him a lesson?”

“It’s the least I can do,” says Yugi, suddenly somber. “After all that’s happened.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“Not pity. Try ‘basic human decency.’”

“You are so—” Nene stops. Re-centers herself. “Right. It’s too cold out here for all this. Did you… would you want to… I mean—”

His face shouldn’t loom that brightly. Not out here, not in the deep bottomless dark of the December night. He’s all pale skin and round cheeks, elusive like the moon, marked by twin bright points of luminescent amber. They twinkle at her in a dazzlingly spot-on impression of starlight. They wink in and out of sight as they’re scrunched upwards by the force of a sly, boxy grin. They bore into her, chilling her to the bone, shining bright and merry all the while.

“Why, Yashiro, I thought you’d never ask.” The comment hangs in the air for one beat, two beats, until Yugi breaks the tension with a well-timed quip. “I’m freezing my ass off!”

“’Teach him a lesson,” grumbles Nene, already spinning on her heel to lead the odd young man through her front door. “I’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Hm? Did you say something?”

“No, nothing at all.”

Amane – as he’d told her in no uncertain terms to address him as (“it’s not like we’re strangers, now, are we?”) – sits next to her at the dining room table with a troubled look on his face. The large, even spread of dark mahogany has functioned as her drawing board for the past week; laid out in two neat, even rows are every envelope, card, and keepsake she’s received thus far. Amane studies the twelfth card, which arrive in a small box in lieu of the paper manila envelopes Nene had become accustomed to. There was too much of Aoi to contain in a simple slip, this time.

“Hm,” hums the dark-haired boy, lip caught between his teeth as he studies the contents. “And you’re positive all of this is hers?”

Nene jerks back, as if slapped. “How could it not be?”

“What exactly is your plan, Yashiro?”

He’s standing up, now, svelte figure made even slimmer by the all-black sweater and jeans combination that hangs off of him like dripping gloom. Amane begins to circle the table, socked feet thumping gently, quietly, soundlessly against the wooden floorboards. Nene nearly thinks him to be a specter, floating effortlessly through the thick air, making maddening paces around her. “You charged at me with no weapon to defend yourself, no phone to call for help, nothing in your arsenal except eleven months of pent up hurt.”

She wants to get angry. It’s her knee-jerk response nowadays, and the things he is saying are out of line. They’re blunt, they’re insensitive, and—

Worst of all?

They’re true.

Amane’s slow revolution stops right behind the axis of her chair. He can’t see her bitten lip from her, her watering eyes, her hot cheeks. She wonders what he’d say. She sends a silent thanks that she’s shielded from his calculating view.

“I’m not trying to be mean,” murmurs Amane, quietly. Nene can tell he’s being honest. “I’m trying to prepare you.”

“Prepare me?”

Amane steps into her periphery, then, silently urging her to look towards him instead of hiding behind the safe veneer of her hair. “The world can be cruel. You’re no stranger to that, Yashiro. When Akane-san left, it was hard for you. We all saw it. I saw it. I saw you.”

Nene looks up at him.

His voice is strange, affected in a way that Nene would have never thought to expect from her neighbor. The guy who let her cry over spilled milk, smearing her snot and tears all along the crisp lines of his nice button-down shirt. The guy who smiles at her – who has always smiled at her – when she was out and about in the neighborhood. The guy who never crossed the sidewalk when he saw her coming. The guy who never told his kids to stay away from Yashiro-san, the woman with the missing roommate. The woman whom tragedy seems to tail like a hound after its master.

“I saw you,” continues Amane, “and it hurt me to watch you go through something like that.”

He is pale, he is wan, and he is brightly flushed in the middle of her dining room, Sitting on her table. Fiddling nervously with the hem of his worn sweater.

She doesn’t know what to say. The words get caught in her throat, blocked by the lump that grows bigger and bigger with each word that comes tumbling out of Amane’s stupidly perfect lips.

“Let me help you.” His face turns fixed, resolute. “Anything I can do to be of assistance. Whatever you need, I’m here for.”

“But why?”

“I told you, already. It upsets me when you’re upset. I don’t like seeing you like that.”

“And when have you ever ‘seen’ me,” scoffs Nene, but it’s mostly to detract from the tears trickling down her cheeks.

Amane wipes them away with the pad of his thumb so impossibly gently it nearly hurts. “All the time, Yashiro.” His touch grounds her – or, rather, she’s being sucked into it, forced to lean on the first scrap of stability she’s been offered in nearly a calendar year. Where she is weak, and greedy for more, he is kind, and benevolent enough to offer her his comfort.

Surely, there must be a catch. Surely, she’s going to regret this.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nene spots the errant glint of one of Aoi’s favorite bracelets. It rests atop the card for the fifth day, along with a small mountain of her other personal effects, some of which Nene can recount the stories behind. Those earrings are from the boutique in Harajuku we visited on a weekend trip. She’s used that same brand of dental floss for years, now, ever since we were kids. I gave her that hairclip, I bought her that lipstick, I used to clip her nails for her when she was too tired to do it.

The loss hits her anew, driving her face further into the palm of Amane’s hand. He’s cooing something or other, his carefully crafted words spun like candy floss, but they fall upon deaf ears. All Nene can think of are the past twelve days, the past eleven months, the past lifetime she’d taken for granted with her best friend, and the ticking doomsday clock that lies ahead of her, counting down to one of the worst anniversaries Nene has ever had the displeasure of celebrating.

For Aoi. This is for Aoi.

It must be.

It will be.

The dust had nearly settled.

The last of the moving trucks pulled out of the driveway, leaving the two young women to their brand-new, freshly stocked, Real Adult House. This was a first for the both of them – a first that they were delighted – and purposeful – in sharing together.

It was an unseasonably warm autumn afternoon. As such, Aoi thought it appropriate to pour some lemonade into a pair of matching glasses, even while a litter of cardboard boxes crowded every conceivable surface.

“Oh, let’s just relax a minute, Nene. Un-packing can wait until we catch our second wind, hm?”

“I don’t know,” said Nene, taking Aoi’s offered glass all the same. “There’s so much to do…”

“Stop fretting. You’ll get wrinkles.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Little too late to be worrying about that.”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about anything. We’re finally home. We finally made it. How do you feel, love? Talk to me.”

Nene swirled her lemonade and worried her teeth at the rim, the dull clink reverberating in the otherwise silent house. Her gaze draped lazily over the wooden banisters, the charming dark, earthy tones of the first floor, all of it bathed in the gorgeous amber glow of near-dusk. The windows had a lovely view, but they were rather large – they’d need to buy some curtains.

“The neighborhood is nice. Well groomed.”

Aoi, it seemed, was pleased by this answer. “It’s not the only thing well-groomed around here.”

“That was terrible.”

“I know.”

“…Who is it?”

“One of our neighbors,” Aoi giggled into her lemonade as she took a dainty sip. “I swear, he was ogling me when we were helping the movers. Like he just couldn’t look away!”

They never can, thought Nene, bitterly. “Which one?”

“Across the street. They’re two brothers, I think. The older one has got such a piercing stare. I’m not going to lie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d be a little frightened.”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Nene. You’re going to find friends, here, too! And then we’ll settle down and live our happy little lives and be best friends forever. Don’t you think so?”

“… Yeah. That sounds nice, Aoi.”

“Of course it does, it’s our dream! Or don’t you remember?”

“I do, I do.”

“Good. Now, why don’t we go door to door and introduce ourselves? The old-fashioned way!”

Ten days.

They’d had to wait until they both had a day off from work to reconvene. As such, it is now the fifteenth of December, approximately four in the morning, and Nene is parked outside of a non-descript storage facility. She’s far away enough to ward off any suspicion, but close enough to carefully track the movements of each patron passing through the massive revolving door.

“Look alive!”

Amane crows from the passenger seat, shoulder-checking her hard enough that Nene is jolted out of her momentary reverie. “No sleeping on the job, silly.”

“’The job,’” scoffs Nene, “Funny you should mention one of those. There’s no earthly way you’re this awake at four in the morning. What is it that you do again, Amane?”

“Property management out in the banks,” Amane rattles off, dismissively, before leaning forward in his seat. “Ooh, now look who finally decided to show up. Closer, Yashiro, or you’re going to miss him!”

The ‘him’ in question is Minamoto Teru.

Amane asked her to conjure up a list of potential suspects. (“Spare no one. It is, unfortunately, those closest to us who pose the most threat. Y’know?”) So, Nene thought back to simpler times, where she and Aoi would sit and gossip on lazy Sunday afternoons about work, family, and the odd faces around town. One odd face always managed to steadily reoccur in every single one of Aoi’s anecdotes.

The elder Minamoto and his kid brother lived directly across the street from Nene, in one of the more traditionally styled houses on the block. Incense regularly burned out front, and the entirety of their porch was adorned with wind chimes, along with various other little tools and trinkets that she could not for the life of her even begin to decipher the purpose or use of. She’d never been spiritual – neither had Aoi – and so the orthodoxy of the Minamoto household was already rather unsettling.

What really drove the wedge in further was Minamoto’s penchant for staring.

There were many a night where Aoi would complain of a restless sleep, chalked up to the sensation of being watched. Nene – in her thoughtlessly callous manner – dismissed this often as a symptom of Aoi’s inflated ego. What Nene now realizes she’d failed to take into account is the fact that Aoi’s bedroom window peered straight into the second story of the Minamoto abode. The distance between the two houses was not that large; if they wanted to, they could push up the glass and shout to communicate.

Naturally, Minamoto is number one on Nene’s list of persons of interest.

After all, there’s something to be said for handsome, charming men with a seemingly endless knowledge of social niceties. Minamoto had never been anything short of polite to both her and Aoi, but the more that Nene reflects on their past interactions, the less confidence she holds in the sincerity of Minamoto’s respectful manner.

Even now, as she watches him stride through an otherwise empty parking lot, large packing bin held effortlessly on top of his right shoulder, his striking features are hard. Intense. Laser-focused. A far cry from the friendly smile he projects at home.

Beside her, Amane whistles low and long. “He doesn’t look so happy.”

“No,” Nene murmurs, agreeing. “I wonder what’s in the bin?”

“Well, it’s hard to say, but…”

He cuts himself off as they both watch it happen: Minamoto hefts the bin into the bed of his truck, and pays no mind to the shiny, metallic item that slips out from beneath the lid. It winks underneath the moonlight, practically inviting the two voyeurs to come and investigate its properties once Minamoto pulls out of the parking lot and off into the impending rising sun. As soon as he’s gone, they slip out of the car and peel into the parking lot, harping in on the lost effect.

Nene’s breath stutters in her throat as she gets a good look at it.

“Oh my God…”

A phone. The case is floral and pastel colored. Feminine. The most popular model and brand of last year’s winter.

But most importantly: it is Aoi’s phone.

Nene would recognize those scratches on the screen anywhere; she’d been apart of nearly all the stories that accompany them. Everything, down to the worried edge of the case where the design fades away, rubbed one time too many by Aoi’s anxious pinky finger, is familiar to Nene in a way that smarts freshly. It is astounding, how every piece of her best friend lives on so very vividly, even as the woman herself continues to elude Nene’s ever-desperate grasp.

“Is that--?” Asks Amane, but his tone betrays comprehension. Nene’s reaction is enough to confirm his suspicions. She presses the power button and nearly wails when it won’t turn on. She begins to spam it, frantically, her thumb coming to jam the home button as well in a cacophonous roar of clicks. She looks crazed. She knows. Yet she cannot bring herself to let go of the phone; she cannot stop hoping that maybe if she presses harder, or faster, the screen will light up and show her the lockscreen photo of her and Aoi sipping hot cocoa in front of the fireplace, taken just days before the unthinkable happened.

Before she can fall any further into disarray, two gloved hands find purchase on her shoulders. Nene belatedly realizes that she’s been shaking. Violently.

“Yashiro,” croons Amane, with infinite patience. “It’s not going to turn on.”

“I-it has to, it has to, it has to—”

“It won’t,” says Amane, not unkindly. He smooths his hands down her arms and comes to rest directly behind her, warm chest to her hunched back. “Can you feel me breathing?”

Nene nods jerkily.

“Try and copy it. Come on. I know you can do it, there you go. Just like that. You’re doing so well.”

The praise washes over her like a hot sauna over old bones. Just how long has it been, since someone has spoken to her like this? Has touched her gently, with intent, with purpose, with fingers so reverent she feels like she’s being worshipped? Has hugged her close to their beating heart and let her count her breaths to its steady rhythm?

In her rational adult brain, Nene knows that the man behind her is only doing what’s necessary to bring her down from what was gearing up to be a full-blown panic attack.

But in her fantastical, escapist brain – the one that commandeers the reign in times of duress, that whispers sweetly treacherous words? Nene cannot help but to allow herself to fall into the daydream that is being held in the arms of a man who cares for her; who camps out with her at four in the morning on a Saturday; who stands with her in empty, poorly-lit parking lots and sways their conjoined bodies back and forth, side to side, like the benign ebbing and flowing of waves at sea.

When Nene can open her eyes again, she finds that it has begun to snow.

Little flakes drift down to collect on her eyelashes, on the crown of her head, on the tip of her red-dusted nose and cheeks. She resists the sudden, childish urge to stick out her tongue.

“Better?” Whispers Amane. The steam from his breath lingers so closely that she watches as it wafts past her ear and out into the dark expanse of the night. Mutely, Nene nods.

“I told you, I don’t like seeing you upset. I’m going to make sure that this year is better for you. Okay? I promise. You can hold me to it.”

“You barely know me,” says Yashiro, finally regaining some clarity. Although she was present for all of it, finding herself entangled in Amane’s arms is somewhat of a shock, now. She’s speaking to a flickering lamp post in the distance as she continues. “Why are you doing all this, Amane?”

A humorless chuckle leaves his mouth. He breathes it into her hair. “Why do you think?”

The night is cold, the night is dark. Nene takes in a lungful of frigid December air and relishes in the way it burns the back of her throat. It feels like a brand, much in the same way that Amane’s arms do as they snake around her own, ever tightening.

“I’m going out!”

“Where? With who?”

Aoi stopped in her tracks, heels in hand, by the front door. “Aw, is Nene-chan worried about me? I can handle myself, you know.”

“I know,” grumbled Nene, indignantly. The stew she’d been working at for ages gurgled at her lethargically. “Just. Wanted to be safe. That’s all.”

“I will be. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when I’m there and when I’m on my way home.”

“Is there any particular reason why you won’t tell me where you’re going, Aoi?”

Aoi’s face was wry as she finally slipped the last inch of her tiny foot into her gracefully lifted shoes. She looked like a vision – but she always did. That was just her. “You won’t like my answer.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t wait up, okay? I’ll be fine!”

“Ah—Aoi, wait—at least take a jacket! It’s getting colder these days—!”

But she was already out of the door before Nene could finish.

Seven days.

It’s getting harder. Harder to keep up with work, harder to keep up with bills, harder to get out of bed on the weekends to make herself something other than instant meals and refried rice.

This time of year has always been overstimulating for Nene, but now that so much of the holiday season is imprinted in her mind with memories of bereavement, there is very little Nene can experience that doesn’t send her back to a different place in time entirely.

She begins to space out in department stores, in konbinis, in supermarkets, when she spots something that resembles Aoi’s wardrobe a little too closely. When she comes to, she realizes she has no idea how much time has passed, or if she’s someone has tried to speak to her. It’s frightening. It’s numbing. It should be sobering, but the closer the anniversary date looms, the harder Nene finds it to wade through the waking world.

And through it all, of course, is Amane: cooking her dinner when she lets slip she hasn’t had much besides energy drinks and protein bars; picking up groceries when she cannot bear to take another step outside of her house; running errands on her behalf like it’s his civic duty; keeping her company while she knits, or reads, or even as she sleeps, so that she is never alone; and even when he isn’t at her immediate side, he’s just one door down. One knock away. Less than one hundred feet apart from her at all times. Always so close. Always.

Sometimes, he behaves… strangely. Erratically. On these days, Nene will hear him talking to no one in particular in the next room. He is louder, too, and proceeds with a manic edge. He laughs too hard. He laughs at the wrong jokes. Nene considers that she is not the only one with dark secrets, with loss brimming at the core of her being.

In her state of gradually building disarray, Nene finds it especially hard to keep track of her personal belongings. It starts with harmless items, things she can easily replace: her toothbrush; her hair comb; a few pairs of socks; a vial of nail polish. Although she swears she puts them back in their respective places, still they vanish into thin air, without a trace.

“Amane,” she hums, tonelessly, “the next time you go to the store, could you pick up some more floss?”

He snorts, like she’s just told him a funny joke. “Again? We should keep a running tally, at this point.”

Nene sinks down to rest her head on the kitchen table. “I don’t want to hear it, Amane. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” groans Nene, miserably. “It’s like… I don’t know…I’m just sort of. Floating. Through life. You know?”

She peers up at him through her crossed arms and almost chokes on her own gasp. In the dim lighting of the kitchen, there stands two Amanes. The twilight of the late afternoon provides a sinister backdrop for the sight that Nene’s mind cannot even begin to comprehend. The two Amanes are grinning down at her, eyes bright, mouth wide open. And then she blinks, and they merge as one, and suddenly Amane is crouching down to her level, nose on her arm, pupils boring holes into her own.

He stares at her in silence for a few moments. This close, Nene can smell him – neutral, clean, yet faintly metallic. “What would make you feel better?”

“I just want her back,” Nene says, so very quietly. “Getting Aoi back would be the best Christmas present ever.”

Amane, Nene has noticed, for all his enthusiasm and passion for their investigatory activities, doesn’t appreciate it when Nene talks about Aoi. For whatever reason, his face falls flat, his eyes, dull, and the shift in his energy is so sudden it threatens to give her whiplash.

As the sun finally sets, it is just the two of them illuminated by a small table lamp several paces away. Amane is aglow with orange light. It bounces off of his cheekbones sparingly, rapidly. He’s drawn gauntly like this, a vision of nightmare in her mundane little kitchen. Golden eyes half-lidded and simmering with…

“Amane…”

“If that’s what you want,” he says, finally. “I’ll make it happen.”

“You can’t—don’t say something like that. It’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to make you laugh.”

“… Promise me, then. Promise we’ll find her for Christmas.”

“I promise, Yashiro.” He hooks their pinkies together with a grim smile. “I promise you’ll get to see her again.”

Minamoto Teru stops by two days later.

He has the audacity to stroll up to her front door, put his dirty hands on her doorbell, and summon her outside where he awaits, a tray of what he announces to be baked goods occupying his right hand.

“Losing a loved one can make the holiday season burdensome. Please remember that you are in all of our thoughts, Yashiro.”

She slams the door in his face.

How dare he? How dare he? How dare he come onto her property and offer her his stupid fucking food and say – that – knowing damn well what he’s done. He is so sick. He is so sick. He is twisted and evil and Nene cannot breathe she is so livid. She rushes upstairs, little feet pounding hard on the wood, and throws herself into her bedroom, slamming the door shut in blind rage.

The collapse onto the floor is natural; her knees fail her and she plummets onto the carpet, fingers scrabbling blindly as she lets out a frustrated sob. The devil is her neighbor and he smiles in her face, invites himself to her house, and speaks of Aoi as if he doesn’t know full and well about her loss.

Delusional with upset, Nene fishes her phone from her pocket and dials the first number in her favorites. She expects the mindless ringing, the numbing dial tone, the familiar error message telling her that her call cannot be completed at this time.

What Nene does not expect, however, is the faint ringtone that wafts through the wall.

No, she thinks, panicked, I must have finally lost it.

Still, Nene crawls slowly, hesitantly, to the opposite wall – the wall which conjoins hers and Aoi’s rooms. As she makes her way nearer, the ringtone grows louder, easier to discern from the rapid pounding of her own overexerted heart. She strains to make heads or tails of it over the pounding in her ears, the rushing of her blood, the adrenaline buzzing through her veins. She crawls, on her hands and knees, unsure of if her feet could even carry her through a moment like this.

There are no thoughts in her mind. She is suspended in disbelief. Pressing her ear against the thin wall, she confirms that yes – that is Aoi’s ringtone. One of the prettier pre-set sounds on her model. Nene would recognize it anywhere. She recognizes it now, with her pulse in her throat.

Her mind is made up in the blink of an eye. Swiftly, silently, Nene rises from her muddled heap on the ground and moves towards her own bedroom door, tactfully twisting the knob and slipping through the miniscule sliver she creates for herself. Before she can think about what, exactly, may greet her, she’s shoving open the door to Aoi’s room and barging in.

The ringing grows louder, louder, and louder, until she hears it in her eardrums, can feel it in the heavy pit of her stomach.

“What are you doing in here, Amane,” breathes Nene.

He’s – here. Sat cross-legged in the middle of the room. Her room. Her phone is in his lap. Turned on. Miraculously functional. And ringing.

(Hadn’t Nene stored it in her dresser, the night they discovered it?)

“What do you mean, Yashiro?”

“Why are you—in here—”

“Didn’t you invite me over today?”

Did she? “Did I?”

“You wanted me to look for clues.”

“Clues…” repeats Nene, dumbly. She brings a hand to her head and massages her temple, as if that’s going to jog her memory. Why can’t she break through the heavy fog permeating her mind, obscuring from her even the most basic of mental passageways?

What had she done all day? Where had she been?

If Minamoto Teru never came by, would Nene have awoken from her stupor?

“The phone…”

“You gave it to me,” Amane reminds her helpfully. “I told you I found a way to unlock it.”

She considers, for a brief moment, arguing. She wants to tell him that she doesn’t remember anything he’s saying. The past twenty days have all been a blur, exacerbated by Amane’s introduction into her otherwise benignly lugubrious existence. Just what is his real motive, here? Why insert himself into her personal affairs after months of watching from afar? What does he know that she doesn’t? The questions swirl inside of her, ready to leap forth in a vitriolic outburst, but one good look at Amane stops her dead in her tracks.

This… is one of his strange days.

The days where he acts like a stranger wearing Amane’s skin. Jerky movements. Pitchy laughter. Shrunken pupils. He smiles innocently up at her, nearly childlike in its simplicity, and chills erupt along the rigid line of the back of her neck.

“Okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

“…Yes.”

“I’ll go make you something!”

“I can help.”

“No,” says not-Amane. “Let me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

He brushes past her on his way out of the door, pocketing the cellphone as he descends the stairs.

Nene realizes that she probably should have asked for it back.

The next four days are something out of a nightmare.

Nene is barely lucid for any of it. Bits and fragments of her days find her like bottles drifting aimlessly onto the shores of a deserted beach, with nobody there to properly receive the message.

Amane had to leave for the weekend – something about business and taking care of the properties he manages – and so Nene is left to her own devices in one of the worst states she’s found herself in. She has to call in sick from work. She can’t go out. She can barely make it from the dining room table to her bedroom without some form of setback.

As always, Amane seems to have been prepared for this. He left her packaged meals before he left, encouraging her to eat to her hearts content. He cooks for her all the time. He is very kind to her, even if sometimes Nene is a little frightened by just how far his kindness extends.

The food is good, but her condition gets worse. She doesn’t call an ambulance, because she doesn’t know what she would tell them. I’m sleepy and depressed and obviously dying because of this.

Very quickly, reality begins to blend with her dreamscape. She sees Aoi at the bottom of the stairs during the nighttime hours. She wakes up to a voicemail at three in the morning left by an anonymous caller; when she clicks on it, she hears her best friend’s bloodcurdling shrieks of terror. Minamoto Teru haunts her, stalks her property, prowls around her house like a predator studying its prey. Is that it? Is he mulling over how he’s going to catch his next victim? She refuses to answer the door when he knocks – not even when he shouts that it’s important, not even when he says that she isn’t safe. What does he know? He’s the one who—

She’s in the bathroom, sifting through the cabinets, throwing out decrepit old orange pill bottles. She looks up and Amane is behind her in the mirror. She blinks in surprise and he’s gone again. The back of her neck is still warm. Nene wonders how he always manages to get into her house—

She’s in the garden. Do they have a garden? Aoi always wanted a garden. She’s in the maybe-garden and she’s planting a radish, only it’s not a radish, it is a pale, thin, slender arm with fingernails painted an extravagant lavender hue, and Nene is powerless to do anything other than shovel more dirt onto the appendage until it disappears from sight completely. She tries to dig up the body, but her hands don’t move fast enough. She should have done more—

She’s in her bed, and she’s being jolted awake. Truly awake. Nene tries to scream, but a gloved hand covers her mouth.

Amane is leant over her.

“Yashiro,” he says, gravely, “I found her.”

Wordlessly, she nods, once. Hard. Resolute. She went to bed in her day clothes (time had long since stopped meaning much of anything to her) and so there is little she needs to do to get ready to accompany Amane. Shoes. Coat. It’s dark in the house, what time is it? It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, except that she is finally – finally – going to be reunited with Aoi.

Before Nene can get too far out of the door, Amane draws her back in with one arm, bringing them forehead to forehead, nose to nose, breathing in one another’s air. They are so close that Nene feels it when his heartrate picks up as he caresses her cheek.

“I did this for you,” he reminds her. “It’s all for you.”

“I know,” says Nene, lips pressed into his palm. “Thank you, Amane.”

“Always. Come on, let’s go.”

“What day is it today?”

“Christmas,” Amane says from the driver’s seat. “I heard your wish loud and clear.”

Not for the first time that morning, Nene’s gratitude is intermingled with an underlying sense of insecurity. She pushes it down. Amane would never tell anything but the truth, and he’s the only person who cared enough to take Nene seriously and help her find Aoi. If anything, Nene owes Amane more than she could ever possibly give.

Perhaps this is why she doesn’t question him, when he tells her that the way to Aoi is long, and she must rest beforehand.

Perhaps this is why she doesn’t object to taking the bottle of water he hands back to her, with claims of concern for her health.

Perhaps this is why when she wakes up hours later to sand and water surrounding the car, she trusts Amane when he says to get out and follow him.

Perhaps this is why she trails dutifully behind him, slipping through nooks and crannies, hustling through underbrush, scurrying through nature’s back alleys, relying on him to direct their path.

Perhaps this is why, when they come upon the secluded one-story cabin, she clings to him as they enter inside, her fists white knuckled and tense as they dig into the back of his black jacket.

“Is the—” her fearful whisper splits in half right down the middle. “Is Minamoto here?”

Amane is silent for a beat. “No,” he finally says, without turning to look at her. “So this is the perfect time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nene agrees. “It’s really… wow, it’s really normal-looking in here. I can’t believe someone like him can have a cabin out in the banks, all furnished and decorated or whatever, and then he just – does these horrible, awful things. It’s sick. He’s disgusting.”

Again, Amane is silent.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” sniffs Nene, hot on Amane’s heels as he opens some sort of trap door and begins to climb down a concrete ladder. “Scum like him are so good at pretending to be normal, likable. But it’s all a ruse. Just to get close enough to their victims. And then they strike.”

“Strike?”

“Well, sure. They… they take people.”

“How?”

Nene’s brow furrows. This sure is a long way down. Some light would help guide her way. “How? Um, well. I guess he would have lured Aoi in with a false sense of security, right? Made her feel nice, take her out, call her pretty, that sort of thing. And just when she was getting really comfortable, he probably…” Nene chokes. She doesn’t like thinking about this. “… he probably tied her up and threw her in his truck and drove all the way out here. She probably woke up alone – cold, scared, on Christmas. He would have dragged her inside, and down all these stairs, and then he’d… have his way with her.”

“Are you sure?”

Nene nearly stops mid-climb. “Excuse me?”

“Must it be so violent, Yashiro?” Amane must be significantly farther down than her – his voice sounds odd. “Why couldn’t he have knocked her out for it?”

“That’s unrealistic.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What if she woke up before they got down to – here?”

“What if she followed him willingly?”

“I can’t imagine her doing that. Aoi’s too smart.”

“What if she thought someone was in danger?”

Nene is quickly starting to lose patience with this pointless conversation. “But who, though?”

The moment her feet hit the ground, she’s seized suddenly from behind. Nene struggles in the pitch black darkness, shrieking out for Amane, but her cries for help are rendered defunct with the man himself croons low in her ear:

“You.”

Oh.

Her body goes limp with the realization. Her hands poised for attack slacken on his forearms. Her kicking legs sputter out weakly, until they drag lamely on the dirt floor. Her unseeing eyes – glassy, watery with emotion – flutter, stunned.

She cannot speak. She cannot move. All Nene can do is whimper, now properly ensnared in the spider’s web.

“I’d never hurt you though, Yashiro.” Amane’s voice is sing-songy, light and airy, flirtatious and fun as he drags her body through what feels like an endless array of catacombs. “Would never hurt a hair on your pretty little head, hm?”

Oh my god.

“The—the phone, Minamoto—”

“I planted it there, dummy.”

“In his personal storage unit?”

“People really do a terrible job at creating reliable passwords and pins nowadays.”

They take a turn, and there’s distant light up ahead. Nene tries to hone in on it, but it’s multicolored, and focusing on it for too long makes her vision blur. “Why Aoi? If you wanted me, then why did you take her?”

“She was a distraction. She was holding you back.”

“Holding me back from what?”

“Me.”

The light grows nearer. Now that Nene no longer has to strain her eyes to parse out the source, she can recognize that the forceful glimmer is actually—

A Christmas tree.

It illuminates the dank cellar just enough for Nene to look around and take in the chilling sight. A decrepit armchair with a few springs popping out of the seat sits perpendicular to the tree, with some poor excuse of a throw hung over the back of it. Mysterious stains litter the upholstery in a disturbing splatter pattern that she must look away from, if only to preserve her sanity.

The rug is dingy and cheap, if not outright taken right from the dumpster of some overstocked department store. Leaves and brush still cling to its prickly surface. Where the hell did it come from? How did he drag it all the way down here? Is this supposed to be some sick attempt at a heartwarming Christmas scene? Nene feels bile creeping up the back of her throat.

Now that Amane has brought her up close and personal, she makes the mistake of looking underneath the tree.

“Holy fucking Christ.”

“The ‘best Christmas present ever,’ right, Yashiro?” Amane’s voice jolts her back to reality. Nene startles in his arms and he lets her go, watching fondly as she stumbles around like a newborn fawn, collapsing next to the limp hand farthest away from the tree. The purple nail polish is still fresh, still bright; so bright, in fact that Nene can glimpse her own horrified face in the distorted reflection.

“Merry Christmas.”

This can’t be real.

Nene looks up and sees double. The two Amanes are laughing – absurdly, ridiculously – with arms outstretched and cheeks flushed pink. “I got you the best present ever, right? You like it, right? Right?”

“R-Right,” gasps Nene, because what else is there to do?

“December can be warm. December can be bright. I can’t wait to spend all mine with you, Yashiro. I’ll make sure you’re happy. You know I hate it when you’re upset.”

Curled next to the tree, clutching the cold, lifeless hand of her best friend, Nene smiles. It is watery and it is wobbly, but it is a smile and she knows, now, that there is no other option. “Thank you, Amane. I’m r-really happy.”

“Of course.” He crouches down to her level, and brushes the sweaty, tangled hair from in front of her face. “Anything for you. Merry Christmas, Yashiro. I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

An incessant pounding at the door awoke Aoi in the dead of night.

She was not above admitting it – Nene returning home to spend Christmas with her family left Aoi alone in their brand-new house. She felt odd, and a little strange, by herself in such an unfamiliar environment. Hopefully all of the new-neighbor activities she’d participated in would shield her from any misfortune – at least until Nene returned.

She hurried down the stairs with urgency, in fear of some poor soul needing help on Christmas night of all nights.

When she wrenched open the door, she was met with the sight of… their next door neighbor? Yugi Amane, if she remembered correctly. Before she could ask him what on Earth brought him there so late, he began to speak frantically.

“Yashiro is in danger! You’ve got to come, quickly!”

“Danger?” Mused Aoi. “I haven’t heard anything from her.”

“I know.” Amane held up a blinged-out phone, adorned with two charming hamster clip-on charms. “I found this at the end of the street.”

“Oh, God.”

“Please, come with me. And hurry. I don’t know how much time we have.”

“Oh, God, okay, okay. I’m coming.”

And so Aoi went, with no knowledge of what was in store; with no clue that they were not the only new tenants in town, and that in fact Amane moved in one month before they’d settled down, entirely on purpose, after he’d seen the activity in Nene’s bank account and connected the dots to their brand new location. And so Aoi followed him, wholly unaware that if anyone knew where Nene was, it would in fact be Amane, as he did, in fact, know where she was, as he knew where she was all the time.

And so Aoi believed him, crawling willingly into the spider’s web.

Aoi was not a stupid woman. Aoi could not ignore the red flags that waved overhead, announcing the imperfections of such a convenient danger. But if her friend was truly in distress…

For Nene, she thought. This is for Nene.

#hananene #hananene fic #hananene ao3 #tbhk ao3 #jshk ao3 #tbhk #jshk #amane yugi x yashiro nene #hanako x nene #hanako x yashiro #hanako x yashiro nene #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #my writing

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anmiruzu · 1 year ago

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rules and fandoms I'll write for

rules:

will take a day to a month or so depending on the amount of characters, how busy I am, and how motivated i am to do your request so please be patient <33

no max amount of characters you can request but if you request a lot of characters, it will be posted seperately. (with the second or so part taking a while; you may have to request for updates)

when requesting make sure to clearly specify whether you want headcanons, drabbles or oneshots and which characters you want or if you want me to choose

also when requesting oneshots, beware it may take longer as i don't normally write oneshots (but i'll do my best!)

i write both platonic and romantic for any character

no requesting nsfw (suggestive is okay tho! keep in mind that I am a minor)

this is a x reader blog so no character x character ships (not really comfortable with character ships so srry! just not my cup of tea)

ocs, i know i just said no character x character ships but ocs are kinda on the line? (if that makes sense?) i will write for your oc if i can find enough information about them on your page. however if not i will politely reject your request

if you don't see a certain character in the characters i write for or characters i don't write for just ask! i'll add them in.

and you're welcome to ask for updates on your request; i don't mind as long as you're not rushing me

also! I apologize if anyone is ooc

(will be updated later if needed)

fandoms I'll write for (organized by interest):

kimetsu no yaiba (demon slayer)

twisted wonderland

oshi no ko

jibaku shonen hanako-kun (toilet bound hanako-kun)

jujutsu kaisen

houseki no kuni (land of lustrous)

(will be updated later if needed)

characters I write for

(organized by favorites):

just a quick thing to note but just because a character is here does not mean i will always write for them (unless i have written for them before). some of the characters here are characters i have never written for before. i’m just willing to try since i know how it feels when no one writes for your favorite. (and in my case that would be my kny favorite senjuro)

(kny) tanjiro kamado, senjuro rengoku, genya shinazugawa, nezuko kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, sabito, makamo, kyojuro rengoku, mitsuri kanroji, shinbou koucho, zohakuten, rui, gyuutaro, daki, uzui tengen, tokito muchiro, sanemi shinazugawa, inosuke hasbira, gyokko, aizetsu, sekido, urogi

(jshk) yashiro nene, akane aoi, hanako (amane yugi), aoi akane, tsukasa yugi, teru, mitsuba, kou minamoto

(twst) azul ashengrotto, sebek zigvolt, floyd leech, ortho shroud, riddle rosehearts, ace trappola, deuce spade, trey clover, leona kingscholar, ruggie bucchi, jade leech, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoneit, idia shroud, malleus draconia, lilia vanrogue, epel feimer, cater diamond, jack howl, silver

(onk) aquamarine hoshino, ai hoshino, ruby hoshino, kana arima, mem-cho, akane kurokawa

(jjk) sukuna, itadori yuji, maki zenin, toge inumaki, megumi fushiguro, nobara kugisaki, gojo

(hnk) dia, antarcticite, phos, jade, yellow diamond, bortz

(will be updated later if needed)

characters I do not write for:

(kny) kanao tsuyuri (i’m a tanjro simp with issues, the most you’ll ever see me write for her are angst fics focused on tanjiro), gyomei, obanai, kokushibo, hantengu (tbh i’m a little traumatized from seeing that one hanten shipper so no hantengu. also, no offense hanten shippers; it’s just rlly not my cup of tea)

(twst) rook hunt (too complicated of a character to write plus i sorta dislike him), any staff member, any character from jp twst events (eng player srry!)

(hnk) any character from the manga (anime only for now…)

(will be updated later if needed)

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astro-can-write · 1 year ago

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𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓮 | tbhk

a tbhk oneshot [angst]

word count: 734

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

My name is [REDACTED].

I was a mother, and wife, but now I am a widow and I live by myself.

How did it get to this?

My sweet, kind husband died only a few years after my son entered school. He was an amazing, handsome man with a burning passion for photography.

My son, although foul-mouthed and cocky, was also a kind soul and often looked after me. He told me my clothes looked bad and told me to change, but I knew it was because he loved me. He had picked up his father’s camera one day and became just as passionate as my husband was. He was extremely good at taking photos, even winning awards, but he was down-to-earth about it. He didn’t brag about his achievements. He simply loved photography.

I am a nurse. I work daily, helping patients and at my local hospital. It brings me so much joy when I see my patients’ faces of happiness when they are finally let out of the hospital. They all have family to go back to.

Meanwhile I come home every day, exhausted and burnt out, and I am greeted by no one. The burning smell of incense wafts around the house as I give my prayers to my son and my husband’s souls. Several pictures are hung up on the walls, all of them containing me, my husband, and my son.

My son was beautiful. He had chin-length pink hair that he usually put up in a ponytail, leaving out his bangs. His eyes are wide and downturned and pink as well, with hints of azure hidden behind his pupils. They glint with determination and confidence.

I keep my son’s room nice and tidy. I wash his old school uniform every day and I dust off all the pictures he has tacked up on the wall. I organize his old, musty school notes and I fluff up his bed every morning.

I know he isn’t coming back, but I want to make sure I never forget him and my husband for as long as I live.

My son…he died on my birthday. I was going off to work when he stopped me and said that he’ll make my favourite curry for dinner. The way he shyly mumbled “only because it's your birthday!” warmed my heart, because I knew that he would do it for me every day if I had asked.

When I got home that night, the house was warm and the smell of curry was in the air.

But I couldn’t find my son anywhere.

I’ll be right back, said the note on the counter. Apparently we were out of potatoes and he was going to go buy more because he wanted the curry to be perfect.

He was killed in an accident that day.

What if he hadn’t gone out of his way to make the curry perfect? I was fine with no potatoes. It wasn’t needed.

But my son, oh, my son…

Today, I met some of my son’s friends.

I had gone to his grave to clean it up when my weak body had given out, making me fall to the ground and drop everything. Two kids who happened to be behind me immediately rushed over and helped me up. To my surprise, they had come to visit my son! I had never met any of my son’s friends before, so I invited them over for some tea.

There was a girl and a boy. The girl was in her first year of high school, and she had beautiful beige-coloured hair and wore the school’s uniform. The boy was the same age as my son, and apparently they had been in the same class! He was a very gentle boy with shaggy orange hair and an earring with a traffic-sign dangling from his right ear. He held some sort of staff in his hand, but I didn’t question it.

Her name was Nene Yashiro, and his name was Kou Minamoto.

When we talked about my son, I saw the boy tear up and the girl comfort him. Were they dating? I don’t know. It wasn’t any of my business. I was just taken aback by the fact that there were still people who remembered my son like I did.

It made me happy.

Are you watching, Sousuke?

I love you, and so do your friends.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

thank you for reading!

#tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #mitsuba sousuke #mitsuba #supernatural #tbhk oneshot #oneshots #fanfiction #angst

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ao3feed-danganronpa · 2 years ago

Text

Book of Oneshots

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mp1kqHh

by nag1t0

Just a random book of oneshots from many fandoms. Feel free to request any ships Fandoms: OHSHC DDLC Project Sekai TBHK Danganronpa DR fangames MCYT OC's Character x reader(the reader is non-binary or gender fluid)

Words: 690, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Danganronpa, superdanganronpaanother2, projectsekai, ddlc, Toiletboundhanakokun, Minecraft (Video Game), mcyt, Oneshots - Fandom, Romance - Fandom, fluff - Fandom, Angst - Fandom, Death - Fandom

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, Other

Characters: Otori Teruya, Sannoji Mikado, Yomiuri Nikei, Suoh Tamaki, Ootori Kyouya, Azusawa Kohane, Kamishiro Rui, Monika (Doki Doki Literature Club!)

Relationships: Otori Teruya/Yomiuri Nikei, Hashimoto Shobai/Otori Teruya, Otori Teruya/Sannoji Mikado, Sannoji Mikado/Yomiuri Nikei, Chiebukuro Setsuka/Yomiuri Nikei, Ootori Kyouya/Suoh Tamaki, Fujioka Haruhi/Suoh Tamaki, Kamishiro Rui/Tenma Tsukasa, Azusawa Kohane/Shiraishi An, Hanako | Yugi Amane/Yashiro Nene, Minamoto Kou & Yashiro Nene, Minamoto Kou/Mitsuba Sousuke, Monika/Sayori (Doki Doki Literature Club!), Natsuki/Yuri (Doki Doki Literature Club!), Grian - Relationship, GoodTimesWithScar - Relationship, Jimmy | Solidarity/Scott Major | Smajor1995, Maeda Yuki/Sora

Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Comfort/Angst, BL

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/mp1kqHh

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #dangan ronpa #danganronpa #dr

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httpswwwtbhkcom · 3 years ago

Note

Hi could you write a kou x male reader who’s super affectionate and always makes kou flustered on purpose because y/n knows that he has had a crush on him ever since middle school. And one day when y/n and kou were on the rooftop eating lunch kou randomly kissed him. (Sorry if it’s too much!)

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

A/n: AHHH MY HEART- Don’t worry, it isn't too much! Thank you for requesting Anon!

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Title: “It’s a date then.”

Pairing: Minamoto Kou x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Keys:

Y/n- your name, Fairy is the Tiara’s mokke’s name, f/s- favorite snack,

Reader: Male

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You were running to school, waking up late. Luckily, it wasn’t time for class yet. While running to the halls, a teacher told you to not run in the halls. You nodded and speed-walked your way to your locker. You saw Kou waiting beside your locker. His back facing you. You grinned and went behind him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head on his shoulder, seeing half of his face. “Boo.”. He yelped, flustered. “O-oh, Good morning Y/n! You scared me, haha…”

“Morning, Kou! Had a good sleep yesterday?” You asked as you unwrapped your arms from him, opening your locker and grabbing the books you need. “Mhm, I had a dream of becoming like Teru-nii! I was a great exorcist and I had cool moves too!” He gushed. You closed the locker and looked at him. “Eh, what do you mean ‘was a great exorcist’? Aren’t you one already?” You flicked his forehead lightly. “I’m not as great as Teru-nii though.”

“You are. You just don’t know it yet.” You kept eye contact with him, giving him a smile. Kou giddily smiled and chuckled nervously. “I-I don’t really-”

You cut him off and held his hand, which made his face turn bright red. “Come on, let’s go. The bell will ring soon.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Kou was listening to the teacher’s lecture while you stared at your desk. You silently sighed, having nothing fun to do. You decided on taking a piece of paper from your notebook and wrote something, then passing it to Kou without the teacher noticing.

He read it and looked at you, mouthing ‘It really isn’t the time to tell me this.’. You stuck your tongue out and deadpanned ‘I’m bored’ you mouthed back.

It said:

‘Hey Kou, wanna go to the new store with me after school? My treat!’

You waited for him to respond. You guessed he would come with you, but then again, he might be busy. To your luck, he nodded. Kou took out his pen and wrote something on the note, then passed it to you. ‘We should go to the park too. If it isn’t too late.’

You nodded, throwing the paper somewhere in your bag. “Minamoto, please answer the question on the board.” It caught both you and Kou off guard. Kou hesitantly stood up and went to answer the question.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You were waiting for Kou in his home. You sat on the couch as you were looking everywhere in the living room. The television, pictures in frames... Tiara noticed you and smiled “Y/n-kun! Hello!” You greeted her and smiled, giving her a wave. “How are you and Fairy?”

“We’re doing great!” She answered. “Actually, I made a drawing with me and Fairy.” You watched as Tiara ran to her room before coming back with a piece of paper. “See? That’s me.” She pointed to the drawing of herself. “And Fairy!” She pointed to the mokke with a scared look on its face. The background was.. Interesting.

“T-that looks great!”

“Thank you! I feel like something is missing here. But I’m sure it’s nothing.” She smiled. You heard footsteps coming from the hallway and to the living room. “Kou-oniichan!” Tiara exclaimed. “Are you and Y/n-kun going outside?” Kou nodded. “Oh? Where are you guys going?”

You jolted at the familiar voice. “Teru-oniichan!” Tiara exclaimed, running to Teru to give him a hug. “Welcome back, Teru-nii!” Kou greeted. Teru’s eyes went to you and you waved awkwardly. Teru waved and smiled at you. “Where are you two going?” He asked you and Kou. “W-well.. There is a new store and we thought that maybe we could go buy some snacks.”

“Alright then, please go home before 6.” Kou nodded. You and Kou went to the and bid goodbyes to the youngest and oldest Minamoto siblings. “Bye bye, Kou-oniichan, Y/n-kun! I hope your date goes well!” Tiara shouted happily, waving. Kou’s eyes widened and his face was red. You snorted and went along with it. “We will!” You winked at Kou before dragging him to the shop.

Kou blushed as he asked “But we’re not dating!”

“Not yet~”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You and Kou were examining the shelves for something that could catch your eye. You took a snack off a shelf and went to Kou. You tapped his shoulder and showed him the food. “It’s sweet potato jellies. We should buy some!” Kou took the snack and grinned happily.

You and Kou bought some snacks and drinks for the two of you and for Tiara too. You and Kou sat on a bench near a fountain. You took out a sweet potato jelly packet for Kou and f/s for you. Instead of giving the pack to him, You opened the pack and took one of the jelly.

You held it in front of Kou. He looked away and became flustered. “Come on. Say Ah.”

He closed his eyes and slowly opened his mouth. “A-ahh...“ You fed him the jelly. He chewed the jelly. You both sat in slightly awkward silence. You gave him the sweet potato jelly pack and smiled at him. “Here ya go.”

Kou pouted but it was immediately changed with a satisfied smile when he took a bite of his snack. “Have you tried this yet? It really tastes great!” You shook your head. He took one and held it in front of you. You gently took it from him, making your fingers brush his. He felt a small shock from his fingers. Kou stared at it as you ate the sweet.

“It tastes great! But f/s is better.” You giggled at his dumbfounded expression as you knew that you both would argue which snack is better.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The next day, you met up with Kou at the rooftop for lunch. You opened the door to the rooftop, thinking you're the first person to be there. To your surprise, Kou was already there, leaning on a wall with his bento in hand. He heard the click of the door and looked at the person. “Y/n!” He smiled, walking over to you.

“Sorry, was I late?”

Kou shook his head. “Actually, I just came here.” You both sat on the floor and leaned on the wall, opening your bento boxes and eating the food.

Kou was almost done with his food until he spoke.

“Hey, uhm.. There was a movie premiering later today. Wanna watch it? I’m sure it’s up your alley.” Kou offered. “I can pay for both of our tickets too! If you want too.. I don’t mind if you decline.”

You nodded. “Sure, a movie sounds nice.” You took a bite of your food, glancing at the sky. “Sure.” Kou said, coming closer to you. You felt something soft kiss your cheek. “It’s a date then.” He said, smiling bravely. Kou stood up and grabbed his bento “I- uh, gotta go. Seeyoulater!”

He immediately ran out of the rooftop. His face tinted red and his heart beating quickly.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

E/n: I apologize for making you wait for a few days! I’ve been busy with school work and have a group project. I hope you like this fanfic, Have a great day Anon!

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years ago

Note

Hey there Savi.. could i request a kou,mitsuba and tsukasa x reader where their s/o gets bullied alot?? I've been struggling with it recently and now that school is going to start again im dreading it .. thank you in advance <3

kou minamoto x gn!reader, mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader, tsukasa yugi x gn!reader

a/n: of course!! I’m really sorry that you’ve had experiences like that, but I also genuinely hope that this year will be better! You’ve got this-!! And don’t be afraid to ask for help <3 you’re so so welcome, tho I’m sure schools probably started by now, therefore I’m super sorry for the time this took- and thank you so much for requesting <3

Waaaaaah i’m also sorry if it’s OOC, cos I know Tsukasa’s at least is;;; writer’s block is aaaaaaah-;; I’ve genuinely been writing this since September 19th,,,,

warnings: bullying

word count: 2,044

kou minamoto <3

You glanced at your phone screen, the date flashing up at you. It was depressing. Thoughts of previous years danced in your head, as you shut your phone back off. You currently stood outside of your school, “open house” finally over. School was starting back in just a few days. Your days of freedom could be counted on one hand… this was, by far, one of your least favorite times of the year.

“(Y/N)! Do you still want to walk to the park?” Kou questioned, running up beside you. You nodded, hoping that spending time with your boyfriend would get your mind off of school, and memories related to such. As the two of you began to walk, you could practically feel the question on the tip of Kou’s tongue. He always made himself rather obvious- his hands fidgeted a bit, his gaze lowering to the ground.

“Say, (Y/N)... you seem sad. Is it because school’s starting back?”

You thought for a moment, unsure of how to put it. He certainly wasn’t wrong…

“Yeah, that’s basically it… last year was just… not a good year, haha.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sure this one will be better!! If you want, we can make a list or something? All the bad things about last year can be something we change this year-!”

Despite bitterly knowing that it wasn’t exactly something within your realm of control, you laughed a bit. “That’s… insanely corny, Kou. I didn’t say a terrible idea- just… corny.”

When you glanced up at him, you noticed his red face, as he blurted out an excuse. A moment of fumbling over his words passed, before he gave up, glancing off to the side once more.

“Wh-whatever- I mean, just… like, tell me what’s wrong, if you want to. And I’ll try to help. Alright?”

“It’s really not something either of us can help, Kou.”

“So? I’m your boyfriend,” He seemed a bit embarrassed to say, most likely not used to pulling that sort of card, “If you don’t want to tell me, I can’t make you. But, if you’re alright with telling me, I want to know. Either way, I’m here for you...”

“Ah… I know it, Kou. Honestly, I just… dealt with some bullying last year, so I’m really not looking forward to this year. No matter how much I hear ‘oh, the bully does it to feel better about themself’, it’s just emotionally… hm, awful, you know?”

“Oh… I understand, (Y/N). I do remember some people picking on me, since I have a big brother like Teru- it’s not fun at all. Here!! I’ll stay with you, 24/7! Sit with me during classes, and I’ll hang out with you during free time!” “Thanks, Kou- but we probably won’t have every class together.”

“Then- just tell me if something happens during the class,” He spoke, crossing his arms rather seriously. “I’ll talk with the teacher! Easy peasy!!”

A moment passed, before Kou took your hand, looking at the ground, then back up with you. His eyebrows were furrowed just slightly, his eyes not as wide as they usually were. Kou was being serious- as serious as his sweet mind could let him be. He almost seemed to resemble his big brother even more- when the two were serious.

“If something happens, tell me, okay? I mean it. I don’t want this year to be bad for you- as your friend and boyfriend! Let me do what I can to help, alright?”

You blinked a bit. Kou’s words were so sincere, you felt your heart beat a bit quicker. “A-alright. Thank you, Kou. I really mean it.” You spoke, bringing the boy into a hug to hide whatever sort of expression you were making.

“Of course! You don’t need to thank me, (Y/N). I’m happy to try and help-!”

mitsuba sousuke <3

“(Y/N), if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll give you something to complain about.”

Ah, Mitsuba… he spoke, his arms crossed as he sat next to you, silently noticing your slightly disheveled clothes. Judging by the slightly down look you wore, too many things were now adding up. Something was bothering you, and he was bound and determined to find out what it was.

“Mitsuba, it’s okay, really. Here! Let’s eat, I’m starving!” You opened up your bento box, sliding one his way, and sticking the chopsticks into your mouth. Though you hummed happily, Mitsuba was… in Detective Mode, to put it lightheartedly. Your every move was being analyzed, as he tried his best to figure out what was wrong. Your eyebrows furrowed, as you swallowed a bit harder than usual.

“What’s the point of lying to me, dummy? If you aren’t hungry, it’s probably because whatever is bothering you is ruining your appetite. Talk to me. I’m serious.”

You sighed, feeling as if the food was stuck in your throat. Or maybe your throat simply felt as though it had a lump in it…? Either way, you were painfully aware of the unpleasant feeling. Along with the creeping suspicion that Mitsuba wasn’t going to leave this alone. Was he good at reading people?? Were you just easy to read…? Or maybe, he was just far too accustomed to the way you reacted to things. Able to focus in on the little things, especially when he wanted to. Perhaps it was the talent of a photographer? Being able to read the entire picture??

Perhaps you were thinking too much into it, desperate for a way to get your mind off of the things going on around you.

“I’m just… dealing with some stuff.”

“Well, duh. What kind of stuff?”

You kept your gaze glued to the floor, fiddling absentmindedly with the chopsticks. You knew you could confide in Mitsuba… yet, something about it felt practically impossible. What would happen if you told him? Could he do anything? He was merely a ghost…

“Oi, I asked a question. Listen, and listen well, you idiot- I know I can’t solve all your problems, but I can at least listen- which is what you’d better be doing right now. You listen to me, though who wouldn’t want to is beyond me, so I can at least do the same. I’m not your therapist, but I am your boyfriend.”

Those words danced around in your mind for a bit, as you considered how to put it. For a moment, you simply nodded, letting Mitsuba know you heard- and were acknowledging- what he said. A few more moments passed before you began to speak.

“Lately, there have been some students… picking on me, I guess. It’s… discouraging, and makes school feel like a living nightmare. You’re the only good thing in my day at this hellhole.”

“Oh.”

You tightened your grip on the chopsticks, trying to read Mitsuba’s tone. Suddenly, it clicked- remembering Mitsuba mentioning being bullied for being “feminine” and “foul-mouthed”. He truly, genuinely, understood where you were coming from.

“I see, then… I’ll tell you what to do, (Y/N). Tell an adult, lame-o. I don’t give a flying flip about ‘oh, they won’t believe me’ or ‘what if the bullies blah blah.’ At least try it- it’s hard, but I don’t care about that either. Also, freaking ignore them. Obviously, you don’t want to pay them attention, so don’t.”

“Mitsuba, it’s not that easy-”

“I know. (Y/N), I’ve been in your shoes. Maybe it’s different- I dunno what kind of bullying they’re doing. Still, if you’re good enough for my standards, you know you’re at least worth something. So don’t let those low-lives get you down. I promise you, if I could, I’d give them a piece of my mind. But, since I can’t, just… do it yourself, or something. Don’t endure it, you rat.”

(“Mitsuba, all your insults lowkey feel like bullying-”

“Shut up, stupid-face, you can’t tell a teacher on a ghost. What’re you gonna say?? Waaaah, sensei, school mystery number 3 is calling me names!! Hah.”

“Tsuchigomori-sensei can see you, you know. And he teaches both Minamoto boys!”

“Lalalaaaa, I can’t hear you-”)

tsukasa yugi <3

Tsukasa… knows.

There was no other way to put it. You knew he knew, and you knew he was just waiting. A part of him wanted you to ask him for help- to confide in him, even if it took some pushing. He was… a bit different in that sense- I mean, how was he to know you didn’t enjoy being bullied? Was it the same way he felt when Amane looked at him with such hatred?

“(Y/N)!! What’s with such a sad look?? Did you get a bad test grade?” Tsukasa questioned, floating alongside you as you entered the broadcasting room. You simply shook your head, placing your bookbag on the floor, then standing back up.

“It’s just been a day, Tsu,” You added, taking a seat near Sakura. As you did, she pushed a cup of tea your way, her gaze as it usually was. She looked right through you, as if you were nothing but a ghost. Still, it was a much better look than the ones given by the bullies. Muttering a ‘thank you’, you lifted the cup, fiddling with it slightly.

“If there’s something bothering you, feel free to share it,” Sakura spoke, her gaze staying on you, then finally closing as she sipped from her cup.

“If there’s something bothering you, share it.” Tsukasa added, placing his head on your shoulder and staring at your eyes. His gaze drifted to your hands when you brought the cup to your lips, then over to your throat as you struggled to swallow.

“Runt, if you don’t back away from them, you’ll the the one bothering them,” Natsuhiko spoke, raising his eyebrows at Tsukasa, then offering you a slightly concerned look. His expression was enough for you to know he wanted to know if you were alright- to which you shrugged, reaching up and patting the side of Tsukasa’s face.

“Don’t worry, guys. I’ll be fine, really.”

Sakura pondered for a moment, before standing. “Mitsuba, would you like to walk with me? I should go grab something.”

Mitsuba, who had been sitting off to the side- glanced up, his usual puppy-like expression on his face. “Sure,” He replied, standing up, practically in sync with Natsuhiko.

“I’ll go as well, my lady!”

Oh. She’s doing that on purpose.

Your eyes followed the trio as they left the room, and you could feel Tsukasa’s eyes still stuck on you. The moment the door shut, he spoke. “(Y/N), tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem to enjoy being miserable!”

“Am I supposed to?” “You’re miserable then? What’s wrong, c’mon!!”

“I didn’t say I was- just that I don’t think many people like it,” You spoke, taking another sip from the tea. The warmth of it made your throat feel hot, but it didn’t help the lump stuck in it.

“(Y/N). Just admit to me what’s wrong, and I’ll do what I can!”

You sighed, not wanting to grow frustrated. Tsukasa was… trying. He just didn’t understand everything- the boy who enjoyed seeing people wear normally unpleasant expressions, of course he wouldn’t personally understand. He wanted to help you, but how could a ghost help? Much less, the ghost of a boy such as him?

“(Y/N)-” “I’m just dealing with some bullies. It’s fine, Tsukasa- I’ll figure something out.”

“I’ll kill them <3”

“Tsu-”

Tsukasa stepped away from you, crossing his arms. “So, (Y/N), you don’t like it when people bully you? I’ll take care of it! Promise!” “Stop it right there, Mr. Only-grants-wishes-for-the-dead. Don’t ‘take care of them.’ I just need to get enough confidence to tell a teacher or something…”

Tsukasa paused, pouting his lips slightly, before nodding. Quickly, he floated back over to you, and trapped you in a hug. His arms wrapped around you securely, making you feel rather safe for being in the arms of such a destructive boy. “Fine. I’ll go with you, then, (Y/N)! I’ll even hold your hand!! And I definitely won’t let those bullies bother you any more~.”

“Tsukasa, please, don’t do anything drastic-” “Whatever you say, (Y/N). You know I can’t go against the wishes of my cute partner~!”

#anon #gn!reader #x gn!reader #oneshot #tbhk #jshk #kou minamoto #mitsuba sousuke #tsukasa yugi #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #kou minamoto x reader #mitsuba sousuke x reader #tsukasa yugi x reader

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yourfriendlyneighborhoodsimp21 · 4 years ago

Text

Masterlist For Toilet Bound Hanako-kun

Mod Yashiro Rules

Mod Natsuhiko Rules

NSFW Alaphabet

Prompts

[Hanako-Kun/Yugi Amane]

[] Hanako and Tsukasa With A Female S/O Who's Afraid Of Being Alone HCs

[] “You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.” [Fluff] COMING SOON

[] NSFW Alaphabet || O,U,V ||

[] Confession Tree [Angst & Fluff]

[] Hanako-kun, Tsukasa, and Yashiro With A Rich Female S/O Who Runs The School HCs

[Tsukasa Yugi]

[] Hanako and Tsukasa With A Female S/O Who's Afraid Of Being Alone HCs

[] Tsukasa With A Non Binary S/O Who's Afraid Of Thunderstorms

[] Tsukasa Comforting an Upset S/O [Hcs]

[] NSFW Alaphabet || O,U,V || COMING SOON

[] Hanako-kun, Tsukasa, and Yashiro With A Rich Female S/O Who Runs The School HCs

[Yashiro Nene]

[] Hanako-kun, Tsukasa, and Yashiro With A Rich Female S/O Who Runs The School HCs

[Mitsuba Sousuke]

[None Yet]

[Kou Minamoto]

[] Kou With A Cute S/O Headcanons [Fluff]

[Teru Minamoto]

[] Career Surveys [Lime] COMING SOON

[] Smut HCs COMING SOON

[Akane Aoi]

[None Yet]

131 notes · View notes

damedamedame · 4 years ago

Text

TERU MINAMOTO X READER - SHORT DRABBLE

- “Fang.”

NOTES: i wrote this weeks ago and presented it to @fruitybops aka s i m p and decided to mmm why not post it

Teru felt like he was being sucked in, your lips so soft and utterly delectable that he almost couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Your eyes shut tight, cheeks flushed bright pink as his hand on your chin tilts your head up. How could one kiss feel so dizzying? So enchanting? And so, so lovely?

Well, it was.

Until you felt your lip bleeding.

“M-Mm, T-Teru—!” Your hands move to his shoulders, shaking him with immense intensity. How else were you supposed to stop him? Thankfully, he got the sign, rather quickly may you add, and relinquished his hold on you. He steps back, a bit confused for why it had to end so soon but more concerned than ever once he spots your bleeding lip.

He bit your lip with his fang.

Teru felt his face heat up, for many reasons including an obvious embarrassment for accidentally letting himself go and for how much his sadistic side is cheering inside him for the tiny injury he knew didn’t hurt much. He couldn’t tell you about the latter he’ll take that to his deathbed thank you very much but he might as well apologize for biting your lip.

“Ah, I’m sorry..” He chuckles, nervously thinking about how turned off you would be that you wouldn’t even consider kissing him again. That would’ve been a nightmare that haunted his dreams every single night, if that happened. Hell, she didn’t have to tell him off, this is still going to stay in his mind without a doubt.

To his utmost shock, he heard a ‘snrk’ coming from you. Eventually turning into a full blown chorus of chuckles and giggles that only made beautiful music to his ears. “Y-Your fang b-bit my lip!” You’re practically wheezing now.

This only serves to confuse the ever living mind out of him, unsure about how to react at the situation at hand. Was he supposed to laugh too? Be more embarrassed? His significant other in front of him only twisted his thoughts and stretched it until he felt emotionally drained.

A hand lands on his shoulder, an amusing sight to see for him because you were unbelievably shorter than he was, no matter how many times you tried to at least have the same height as him. “It’s fine, Teru.” Your teasing tone only makes his shoulder stiffen. “I always knew you had a sadist in there!”

The last statement makes his eyes widen and his whole face fume, even the tips of his ears burned bright red.

After how many times you’ve tried to get him to blush, you finally hit the jackpot.

“Sorry I’m late, Ao-chan needed some protect...ion...?” Akane’s eyes squint, watching the odd scene unfold in front of his eyes. Teru is absolutely red, right hand trying to hide the extreme blush on his face but to no avail, and you were bent over, hand on your stomach as you continue to laugh at your flustered boyfriend.

‘What happened here!?’

NOTES: are there any inconsistencies?? of course there are because i wrote this at midnight and half asleep and had the late night thought of teru biting my oc’s lip while kissing so m m m y e a

#teru minamoto x reader #minamoto teru #teru minamoto #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #tbhk #oneshot #scenario #oh this also works for kou :00 #planning to write about tired teru so stay tuned #i am in dire need of fanfics

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the-moon-and-stars · 3 years ago

Note

haiiiii againn !! can i pls request anotherrr oneshot where y/n gets anonymous notes from a secret admirer (who turns out to be kou) ? (｡•́ ω •̀｡)

Hi again!!

Let's go!!!

Warnings: None!

Day 1

You were walking in the hallway to your classroom, there were students still getting to class and teachers speed-walking to their homeroom. You knew you weren't late which is why you didn't bother to rush. But the closer you got to your classroom, the more whispers could be heard.

You walked in and saw students gathered around your desk. You began to grow worried, thinking someone might have drawn horrid things on it, perhaps even wrote some things that you'd think about at the end of the day. You walked to your desk, students looking at you moving away, showing a bouquet of roses and an envelope.

Your eyes slightly widened as you sat down in your seat and looked at the roses and envelope in from of you. You picked up the roses and smelled them, a scent that reminded you of the beach washed over you.

However, looking at the envelope.. you noticed no name written on it. Your thoughts were cut off by Yashiro looking at you with a huge smile on her face.

"Y/n!! Looks like someone likes you!!" She said, a love-struck sigh escaped her lips as she looked off dreamily. "Love..."

You shook your head and looked back at the envelope. "Actually.. Yashiro.. it doesn't have a name on it." You said, a frown appearing on your face. Yashiro cocked her head towards you, taking the envelope out of your hands looking at every angle of it. "Have you opened it Y/n? Maybe they left their name inside the note."

You looked up at the cream-haired girl and slowly shook your head no. She handed the envelope back to you, you eagerly took it and opened it, almost ripping it. The note had handwriting you couldn't exactly recognize. You read the letter, your heart feeling slightly warm with every word that was written on it. It was short but still made your heart beat.

---

Strong, beautiful, smart, sweet, adorable. Things I adore about you. Thank you for being you <3

XOXO

---

Though there was no name at the end of the letter. "No name.." You sighed. Yashiro's smile only grew wider. "A secret admirer!!" She giggled, patting you on the back while wishing you luck on finding out the mysterious person. Leaving you confused.

You looked back at the letter and sighed.

Day 2

You opened your locker about to take out the books for your next class. Almost immediately after opening it, a box fell out. "What the.." You bent down and picked up the box that fell next to your feet. You opened it only to see chocolates and a note on top of it that had the words, ´for you´.

You smiled and ate one of the chocolates. Milk chocolate was the first thing that came to mind after biting into it. You put the box back in your locker and got what you originally came for. Before closing the locker you looked at the box. A grin spread crossed your face as you grabbed the box before slamming the locker door shut.

Day 3

You came to school early today. You told Mr. Tsuchigomori you were gonna help him set up class today. He was your favorite teacher, and you personally felt happy whenever he asked how you were since you knew that wasn't something he would do with just anyone.

On your way to the classroom where Mr. Tsuchigomori told you to meet him, you heard footsteps.

You stopped walking trying to find out where the footsteps were coming from. You looked behind you and heard the noise coming from the classroom you were gonna have the first period today. A concerned look along with strong curiosity filled you. You knew it could still be a teacher but still wanted to check it out.

You slowly walked towards the opened classroom, trying not to make as much noise as possible.

You walked into the classroom, your eyes widened as a pink blush spread across your face. You saw an orange hair boy neatly placing another bouquet of flowers on your desk with yet another note. You knew him, it was Kou Minamoto.

You guys have met on several occasions and you couldn't help but get all giggly around him.

"K-Kou?!" You stammered, making the boy turn. A bright red blushed covered his face as his eyes grew wide.

"A-Ah-!! U-Uh- Y/n- I-Its n-not what it looks l-like u-uhm-" His hands raised as he shook his head.

You walked towards the stuttering boy, giving him a small smile. "I didn't think you would be the secret admirer.."

He looked shocked, shocked at why you aren't mad. He chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah.. i actually.. kinda.." You smiled and leaned in towards him standing on your tippy-toes, kissing him on the cheek.

You walked away towards the door before turning around and smiling at him.

"I like you too."

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

The boy is NOT all that good with being sneaky

He tried his best to last at least a WEEK being anonymous

However, he was shocked he even lasted a day

He thought he made himself obvious

Teru had to give him a pep talk every time Kou went to give you a gift

He wasn't all that shocked he got caught, just your reaction

He is practically SCREAMING internally

Be a dear and give him some more context and a few hugs

At the end of the day, this is gonna be something he's gonna be afraid to ask you about :)

#kou #kou x reader #kou x y/n #anime x reader #tbhk #jshk #kou minamoto #tbhk oneshot #tbhk x reader #tbhk kou

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bluespider-lily · 4 years ago

Text

One shot

#anime #manga #reblog #reblogs > likes #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #amane yugi #kou minamoto #yashiro nene #tsukasa yugi #oneshot #aidairo #teru minamoto #akane aoi #aoi akane #jshk mokke

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toiletpoubelle · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! First of all, I'd like to say welcome to the fandom! If you ever need any help with anything, feel free to ask me anytime! Now, is it alright if you do a Minamoto Teru x Reader where the reader catches him being mean to Kou? Thanks, and once again, welcome! I hope you have a great time here uwu

Teru Minamoto x reader

Aww thanks for the warm welcomes! And I'm sure I will! 💛

prompt: reader catches Teru being mean to Kou.

After walking around the school for half an hour searching for Teru, (y/n) is finally fed up. Teru had said that they had some student council business to attend to, so where is he? He’s usually not the type of person that would be late. Ugh, Teru!!! ”I love this dude and all, but sometimes he just gets on my nerves.” (y/n) shook her head and continued walking. Soon enough two voices could be heard from around the corner. Could it be Teru? No, It couldn’t be. Why would he be on this side of the school? But if it is, who could he be talking to?

”Kou just listen to me, he’s not your friend! You can’t trust him!” ok, that’s definitely Teru’s voice. And what does he mean ’you can’t trust him.’? And Kou? What are Teru and Kou up to?

”Teru please, I can do it! Just give me a chance, if he hurts somebody then I’ll get rid of him. I promise!” What is going on? (y/n) sighs. They know they're not supposed to eavesdrop on people, especially their boyfriend. But-

”Kou! You’re so naïve. You can’t trust him! Stop acting like such a kid!” how dare he say that! (y/n) walked around the corner and crossed their arms.

”How dare you say that to your little brother!” (y/n) walked up to the pair and wrapped their arm around Kou’s shoulder. The kid might be younger than them but man, the kid is tall. Teru sighed and pinched his nose.

”(y/n), baby, you don’t understand what’s going on. Just head back to the classroom and I’ll catch up with you in a bi-” Teru took one look at (y/n) and stopped talking. Their face was turning red, he could almost see smoke coming from their ears. He would be lying if he said That he wasn’t scared. He can face supernatural beings no problem. But when it comes to his s/o, he would get to his knees and beg for mercy.

”Teru. You have no right to make decisions for your brother. I can understand if you're worried about him, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell him what he can and can’t. He's a big boy now. Capiche?” Kou couldn’t believe his eyes, his older brother was speechless. Never in his life has he seen Teru like this. It’s kind of scary.

Teru face was starting to heat up. He reached up and scratched his cheek with one finger. ”uh, yeah. Got it.”

After the whole ordeal with Kou. Teru and (y/n) walked back to the classroom in silence. All (y/n) could think about is the conversation they were having.

They ended up finishing all the stuff they had to do for the student council in silence. Well not necessarily, Teru had tried to apologize a couple of times but (y/n) wasn’t having any of it. It's not like they were mad at him, well maybe just a little. But they were just trying to teach him a lesson.

The next day after class, (y/n) tried to walk out of the class but a hoard of people was crowding the door. ”excuse me, pardon me, ow! Can y’all not-” before (y/n) could finish there sentence right in the middle was Teru holding a box of chocolates and a single white orchid. When Teru spotted them he promptly pushed passed the crowd and stood in front of them.

”I'm sorry.” Teru handed the flower and chocolates to (y/n) and hugged them.

(y/n) giggled. ”its not me you should be apologizing too.” Teru kissed their forehead.

”i know, I already apologized to Kou. I bought him some sweet potato jellies.” He scratched his cheek awkwardly.

”anyways, would you like to have lunch together?” All (y/n) did was smile and grab his hand.

#teru minamoto #xreader #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #jshk x reader #jshk #tbhk x reader #tbhk #teru minamoto x reader #kou minamoto #minamoto kou #minamoto teru #oneshots #request #requests #imagine #minamoto teru x reader

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halloweenismyfav · 5 years ago

Note

Could you write a cute Kou x Reader oneshot, where Reader and Kou are cooking together... and Kou confesses his feelings to her?

《 Note: This idea has been in my head for a bit, so I now present...》

《 Kou x Reader - Cooking Together 》

Warnings: None

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

“So, (Y/n), I was thinking we could make a chocolate lasagna.” Kou suggested as he finished slipping on his apron. “Wait...Are we baking chocolate into a lasagna?” I asked. Kou snickered as he shook his head. “No. It’s a cookies&cream type thing.” “Oh...” I deadpanned. The blonde handed me an apron and I tied the ribbon around my waist. I walked up to the counter and stood next to Kou while he opened the Oreos.

When he turned his attention to the fridge to grab the butter and milk, I went to grab and Oreo, but my wrist was grabbed by Kou’s hand. “You can only have one if there're extra when we're done with them, remember?” He stated. “Can’t I have at least one? Please?” I gave him the cutest look I could muster. “Ok. You...You can have one.” Kou gave in while looking away with pink cheeks. “He’s too cute!” Ok, stop fangirling and take the dang Oreo!

I grabbed an Oreo and munched on it while Kou started to get all of the ingredients ready. After a couple minutes, it was time to cook! I just hope I don't screw anything up somehow...

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

...I screwed everything up. Kou and I had finished putting out the fire I somehow started and I noticed the lasagna got ruined. “The lasagna got ruined...Guess we’ll need to make another-” I cut Kou off by smearing some of the desert on his face. I laughed at his slightly annoyed look when he wiped the majority of the desert off of his face. My laughter was cut short by the remaining frosting on Kou’s hand being smeared onto my cheeks and lips. I was about to turn this into a full on food-fight when Kou placed his frosting covered lips on the tip of my nose. “Kou?” “I...I have feelings for you. I have for a while actually.”

The blonde chuckled awkwardly and looked away, his face as pink as Mitsuba’s entire color-scheme. “I like you too, you adorkable dork.” I rejoiced, booping his nose in the process. “We should probably clean ourselves up.” Kou urged. I nodded my head, “But first,” I gave him a peck on the lips. “The frosting tastes nice.” His face exploded into pink. “You could've just licked your lips!” “Kou, you don't think I know?”

《 This was more of them having a small food-fight, but I hope you enjoy it anon! 》

#toilet bound hanako kun #kou minamoto #kou x reader #small food fight #oneshot #frosting kisses #kou is adorkable

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romelleah · 5 years ago

Text

❏ the ball ❏

(royal!mitsukou au)

for more context i advise you go check out my headcanon post which is just a few posts down (literally 2).

Today was the day. The stupid ball that the king and queen, Mitsuba’s parents, had arranged for Mitsuba to meet more people outside of the kingdom. Mitsuba has already put in a bad word for their royal family- him not socialising with anybody from other kingdoms but Hanako, and even then Hanako only hung out with Nene and Kou. Inside the kingdom wasn’t too much of a different story either, with Kou being the only one he socialised with. Kou did hangout with Hanako and Nene, but Kou was Mitsuba’s personal knight. After he was on duty to look after the young prince while he was asleep and saving him from a deadly assassin, he was crowned Mitsuba’s personal knight.

Kou didn’t even think he deserved the title. He was just lucky and pushed him off the balcony at the right time. It was the first time he killed someone and he hated it, he didn’t want to be a knight. He just wanted to be a stupid chef or something. Kou didn’t find being Mitsuba’s personal knight that bad, as the two actually spent a lot of meaningful time together. Mitsuba’s cockiness and sour additude became easy to decode after a while and Kou was always there to comfort him, even when he was being downright rude.

Mitsuba was pacing around his room, his fingers running through his hair as Kou sat quietly on his best friend’s bed, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. “Holy shit, Yako is going to be so fucking mad at me if I don’t make at least one good connection tonight...” Mitsuba muttered anxiously, his face as white as snow. Kou stood up, looking for something to say. “Maybe you shouldn’t insult whoever starts asking to you? Compliment them instead!” Kou cheered, smiling brightly. Mitsuba looked him in the eye, a smile forming- before the small boy broke into a pitiful and degrading front “Nice idea lame ass traffic safety earring boy.” Kou was taken aback by the younge prince, crossing his arms and pouting. “Maybe just don’t talk.” he suggested in response to the harsh nickname.

Mitsuba angrily picked up his tie from next to Kou and wrapped it around the collar of his shirt, fuming. “I hate my stupid parents, I hate this stupid ball and I hate this stupid tie.” he sulked, struggling to put his tie on. Kou glances over to the boy, clearly extremely stressed. He approached the petite figure and softly placed his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he assured Mitsuba softly. “I’ll do it for you” Kou suggested, which seemed to calm Mitsuba down. He calmly adjusted his expensive tie, as Mitsuba wiped away the barley noticeable tear off of his cheek. Kou decided not to say anything about it and finished fixing Mitsuba’s terrible attempt at tying a tie. Mitsuba blushed from his friend’s gentle contact, trying not to focus on how pretty he looked up close, or how his eyes looked liked they were glowing.

“When we get to the ball you’re not leaving my side.” Mitsuba stated, putting on his simple jacket piece and putting another pin into his hair. “You know that I won’t”. Kou smiled, throwing him a thumbs up. “Good. And you better not try talking to any ugly girls either- you’d just take advantage of their poor miserable state like a pervert!” Mitsuba teased, returning back to his usual self. Kou shook his head, chuckling softly. “I won’t. Now I need to get dressed so I’ll see you in a bit.” Kou waved goodbye to the shorter boy and walked out his large door, closing it quietly in the process. i

Mitsuba flopped down onto his bed, almost as if he was going to fall into a deep slumber and never ever wake up. The ball haunted him every second as the even got closer. 30 more minutes and his nightmare would come true. The clock would strike ten and he’d be announced to the crowd of people, the same crowd of people who he’d disappoint with his personality and appearance. ‘Are you a girl?’ and ‘You’re so rude...’ were phrases he was used to by now, but his parents were counting on him. It was all so stupid. To take his mind off the ball, Mitsuba got up and took out his hair tie. He could at least see if he could change up his hair a bit. He put his hair up like usual, but pinned back his bangs, which were covering his left eye.

“I forgot you had another eye. Don’t worry, you look cute” Kou chuckled, walking into the bedroom quietly. Mitsuba rolled his eyes and turned around, quickly taken back by the tall boy’s appearance. He was stunning. “Do you have a fever or something Mitsuba?” Kou asked, walking towards him. “No! I’m fine, don’t worry...” Mitsuba walked past him, covering his face bashfully. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts before looking at the clock. “It’s almost time to go, so we should do that.” Mitsuba announced, tugging into Kous arm. “Uh, okay.” Kou was alerted by the sudden contact but went along with it. He stared at Mitsuba lovingly as the two raced through the empty halls of the castle together, the instruments’ music flooding through through the area.

The two finally reached the door, looking over at the announcer who opened the door for the two, Kou standing slightly behind Mitsuba. The doors opened and the loud music and lights flooded their vision. “Prince Mitsuba Souske of Kamome” an annoying voice called out, alerting all of the guests. Mitsuba closed his eyes and swallowed his pride, walking down the giant staircase. He walked on with Kou closely behind him. Kou reached his hand out to hold Mitsuba’s, which frightened him at first but slowly grew into the contact. “Perv.” was all Mitsuba could say, slightly choked up by all the eyes staring at the two. Well, mostly Mitsuba. They finally made it to the King and Queen’s side, starting a conversation that quickly died out by Tsuchigomori reminding Mitsuba that bonds needed to be made.

Mitsuba rolled his eyes, and was about to flip him off while walking away but was quickly reminded that this wasn’t an empty ballroom, and that there was real life people around. Kou tapped on Mitsuba’s shoulder, frightening him. “Holy sh-“

“I think someone wants to talk to you?” Kou smiled slightly, showing Mitsuba to an average sized girl with green hair and an uniterested expression. Kou moved behind Mitsuba once again, leaving Mitsuba (almost) alone with the mysterious girl dressed in black. “My name is Sakura Nanamine, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Sakura bowed, lifting her dress up gently. Mitsuba panicked, dusting himself off before doing the same. “I’m Mitsuba Souske, I’m happy you’re here.” Mitsuba replied, dying inside at how stupid and formal he sounded and Kou internally cringed about how nice he was acting. “I’m only here to get away from the boy whom I was arranged to marry. He’s on the other side of the room and I’m avoiding him, so we can just pretend to talk.” Sakura suggested, taking a sip of wine or whatever she was drinking. Mitsuba nodded, adjusting his hair slightly as Kou was staring at his feet.

“How old are you?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“Why don’t you look like your parents?”

“I don’t know, my mom met a nice mailman probably-“

“Mitsuba!” Kou piped in, scared that this would frighten her or start a rumour, making Mitsuba chuckle. Sakura formed a small smile on her face, shaking her head. “You two are amusing, that’s nice. Are you two romantically involved?” Nanamine asked, the two frozen in place after she spoke those words. Kou turned a bright red, shaking his head while Mitsuba played with his hands awkwardly. “No, no! I just saved his life and now I have to stay by his side, for like- ever so...” Kou assured her, scratching the back of his neck. Mitsuba looked away, blushing. “Oh, it appears my presence is needed elsewhere. I hope us two can meet again.” Sakura smiled, before walked off into the distance. Mitsuba let out a deep breath, hiding his face as he turned around to face Kou. “And that is why I hate talking to people. Most of them are dickwads anyways.” Kou shook his head, smiling as he took a hold of Mitsuba’s hand gently. “That was really good! You didn’t insult her at all!” He laughed, making Mitsuba roll his eyes for the 25th time that evening.

Soon a slow romantic song started playing and everyone gathered around the ballroom and started dancing with a partner. Mitsuba looked around, before turning his face towards Kou. Kou looked at the small boy and smiled, before bowing down and taking Mitsuba’s hand. “May I have this dance?” He said sarcastically, chuckling, looking at his prince. Mitsuba blushed vibrantly, taking his hand and kissing it softly. “Fucking pervert, fine. But if you feel the urge to turn it into one of those scenarios like in porn, I’m running away.” Mitsuba and Kou started dancing like the rest of the others, maintain a steady yet comfortable conversation. “The hell? What porn? You’re so weird, Mitsuba!” Kou replied, shocked by the young boy’s words. Mitsuba shook his head, trying to keep up the pace while dancing.

“If I step on your foot I’m not sorry, it’s your fault for wanting to dance with me.” Mitsuba stated somewhat warmly, as if he didn’t mean the things that he was saying- which he didn’t. As the two were dancing, it was like time had stopped. The light had stopped being the distracting and the music stopped being loud. Their hands started becoming comforting and their gazes became necessary, as if they were to look away they would die. Kou didn’t want to let this moment go, as the small, cocky and rude boy’s presence was like a gift. Despite his additude, Kou had completely and utterly fell in love with the small and feminine boy.

Mitsuba knew in that moment that he wasn’t alone in the way he was feeling. At the two came closer, his heart beat faster and his lips parted. His mind was at ease yet so crowded, and the butterflies in his stomach seemed to all become a lot easier to handle. It was like that everything that had happened up until this moment was worth it, because it mean that he could spend his time with the one person who would tolerate him. The one person he could truly feel comfort in being with. They were in love, and nothing could ever prove that they weren’t.

For that moment, everything else was irrelevant. It was just them. And they were infinite.

#mitsukou #mitsukou scenarios #mitsukou oneshots #mitsukou oneshot #royal au #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun oneshot #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk onehsot #mitsuba souske #mituba #kou #kou minamoto #minamoto #mitsuba x kou

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httpswwwtbhkcom · 3 years ago

Note

[TBHK] Kou x GN!Reader | Genre: Fluff, or Angst | No TW unless you want to add anything || Reader is a Supernatural that controls Fire, they aren't a School Mystery but they still hang around the school. They are the strongest during Sunset after school when the sun and air are the hottest, but mostly they just wander the corridors... And if they visits Kou everyday, even at night where they're weakest, they smile. They do love him so!

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

A/n: Thank you for waiting! I decided on making this a fluff-

Hope this was to your liking. I haven’t written in days- and I kinda didn't know what I wanted to wrote- I apologize.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Title: “He’s such a sweetheart.”

Pairing: Minamoto Kou x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Warnings: Grammar errors, not proofread, mentions of almost getting killed, mentions of being in a cabinet (but the cabinet door is slightly open, then leaving soon after.), a bit of swearing(?),

Genre: Fluff

Keys:

Y/n- your name,

Reader: Neutral

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You waited at the roof for Kou. You reminisced about the time, feeling your power surge through you for a second due to the sun setting.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Flashback]

You were walking down the hallway, humming a tune from a song while you watched the students go to their classroom, and mingle with their peers. You wore a uniform close to what the students use. It had some minor and major differences but if people could see you, they would think you're one of the students at Kamome Gakuen. And so someone did.

You felt someone from behind tap on your shoulder. “Uh, Excuse me?” A male voice said. Surprised, you turned to the boy and stepped back in shock. “Ah.. Sorry for scaring you. I’m just new here and I’m lost. I’m supposed to be with my big brother today to help me around the school but he was busy with paperwork. Can you tell me where the student council office is?” He said, scratching his neck.

After a while of silence, He spoke up once more. “Ah! Of course! I’m Minamoto Kou! Nice to meet you.” Kou held out a hand for you to shake. The people around you looked at him weirdly. They couldn’t see you after all. You finally responded and pointed to yourself. "Me?" He nodded. You shook his hand, and began to get more surprised. “Minamoto..? Sounds familiar. May I know the name of your brother?” You asked, feeling a surge of happiness and relief go through you.

“It’s Minamoto Teru. He's the school council president. I’m sure you know him right?” He said proudly, grinning at you. You let out a small ‘oh’ as you stiffened at the name Minamoto Teru; An exorcist. ‘If Teru is his big brother, he might be an exorcist too..’ You noted. “I don’t know where your brother is but he might be-” You told him the directions to the student council room.

Kou nodded. “Thanks but can you lead me there instead?” He gave you a sheepish smile. You hesitantly nodded, not wanting your head sliced off by him. You shuddered as you remembered that you almost got killed by Teru alone. Your powers were strong that time yet you still couldn’t defeat him.

As you and Kou walked beside each other to the student council, he tried to make a conversation, ignoring the weird looks the student gave. “So, I didn’t catch your name earlier..”

“It’s Y/n.”

You gave him short answers, wanting this to get over with. Even with Kou talking to you, he showed no signs of trying to eliminate you. But that doesn’t mean you could trust him that fast. ‘Does he even know that I’m dead?’ You asked yourself. You shook your head, not wanting to know his answer.

“Are you alright?” He gave you a worried look. “You seem troubled.” You shook your head, telling him you’re alright. Kou glanced at you then at the floor, slightly frowning. You felt a pang on your chest. ‘Damnit..’ You sighed before trying to make a conversation.

“So.. Do you have a pet?”

---

You and Kou were right in front of the student council room. “Here it is. Your brother must be here.” You acknowledged. He nodded. “Thank you for taking me here. Sorry if I wasted your time or something.”

“It’s nothing, Minamoto-kun. Happy to help.” You told him with a small smile. He returned the smile and you waved, slowly walking away. “See you later, Minamoto.” Kou bid goodbye before. You turned away from Kou as you walked away, with a small smirk “This day got interesting.”.

Kou watched as you walked away. His gaze was interrupted when a student caught his attention.

“Excuse me. But, who were you talking to?”

Kou gave the student a confused look. “What do you mean? I was walking with someone earlier. Didn’t you see them?”

The student shook their head. “No one was there when you arrived here.” They said as they walked away.

[End of flashback]

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

A few days after you and Kou became friends, he learned that you were actually a supernatural and about your past life.

It wasn’t much but you were happy at least someone other than supernaturals could see and interact with you. You sighed dreamily, looking at the view and watched people as they left the school. You heard the door open and immediately, your eyes darted to the door to see Kou.

“Sorry I was late! I couldn’t find something for a while.” He panted, slumping to the floor. You sat beside him and patted his back in reassurance. “Don’t worry. Whatever it was, I’m sure you’ll find it.” You told him. Kou looked at you before chuckling.

“I already found it. I’m just tired.” He said with a cheeky smile. You stiffened before your face slowly turned red, feeling your cheeks burn. You looked away, feeling embarrassed. Kou stared at you for a few seconds before taking a small box out of his pocket.

“Here.” He passed you the small box. You slowly took it from him. Your hand brushing his. Ignoring the feeling for a second, you opened the box to see a necklace. “I bought it for you cause I think it’d be great..” He admitted, a small blush noticeable on his face. Then he grinned “I have one here too see? So we would match!” Kou showed the necklace hidden under his clothes.

Your heart fluttered as you gave him a love-struck smile. “Thank you, Kou. I love it! Can you help me wear it?” Kou nodded then took the necklace from the box and carefully wrapped it around you, making sure not to hurt you and get it tangled. While he was wrapping it around you, you were sure you could feel his breathing from the back of your neck.

Once he was done, he backed away and looked at you. “There! All done.” You gave him an apologetic look “I didn’t know that we were supposed to give each other gifts. I could’ve given you something..” You mumbled guiltily, looking down. Kou shook your worries away and informed you that he wanted to give you the gift and that he doesn’t need anything because you’re with him.

Still, you insisted on at least giving him something in return in the future. Then, you decided that you and Kou should bake instead. “What should we bake then?” He asked you, glancing at the sky. “But I have to go soon.. I can’t get Teru-nii and Tiara worried.” Kou frowned as he remembered that he needed to go home sooner or later.

“Can we bake at your home then? I’ll try to hide when your siblings comes to the kitchen.” You said, wanting to hang out with him longer. He looked at you and sighed, not knowing what to do. “But you’ll get weak. It’s almost evening.”

You waved him off. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” You stood up and lent him a hand “Let’s go. We don’t want your ‘Teru-nii’ to be worried, hm?” You joked, mimicking the way he said his brother’s name. He gladly took your hand and laughed, lightly punching your arm.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You were supposed to help Kou with cooking but couldn’t due to his older brother offering to help him, so you’re stuck hiding in one of the cabinets (the cabinet door is slightly open so you could see.). “Teru-nii, It’s alright. I don’t need help! You can just play with Tiara while I cook.” Kou insisted, a bead of sweat visible on his face.

“Come on! You’ve been working so hard. I just want to help you cook for the night.” Teru cheered, smiling at his brother. “I sense something here too. Are you hiding something Kou?” Kou chuckled nervously and shook his head, trying to act innocent. Teru seemed to catch the act yet ignored it.

Teru was going to open the cabinet you're in and Kou immediately closed the cabinet, making you flinch. You immediately left the cabinet and hid behind the table undetected. “You’ve been working more than I do. You should take a rest. I’ll handle it, no worries.” He said, genuinely caring for his brother. You smiled at the scene.

Teru pouted but finally obliged, going into the living room where Tiara was. Once Kou was sure Teru was gone, he immediately opened the cabinet, to see nothing but food there. Worried, he frantically looked around to see you standing beside the table. “I told you this was a bad idea! You almost got caught.” He whispered to you, holding your shoulders. “I’m alright, don't worry.” You reassured him, trying to calm you and him down.

“Oh and Kou?”

“Yeah?”

“The food’s burning.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The food Kou made burnt but Kou made a new one, you using your powers to cook the food faster. Kou didn’t like it at first, you were getting weak every second and yet you’d do this. You told him that it’s fine, as long as he and his siblings get to eat. And that you can eat some of it too.

After quietly roaming around the house, and almost getting caught 4 times. You went to Kou’s room and lied on his bed. You sighed, finally feeling the fatigue. You’ve been ignoring it for a while that you didn’t notice it was this late.

Kou went to his room and saw you on the bed. He slowly walked over to you and sat on the floor and poked your cheek. “Are you asleep?” He asked quietly, not to wake you up, but enough for you to hear when awake. You grumbled and nodded, facing him.

You both seem to be in a trance and stared at each other. You were the first one to look away, a pink blush dusting on your cheeks. “Is it time for me to go now?” You asked, sitting up on the bed. “You could stay here for the night. I’m sure Teru-nii wouldn’t find out.” The way he just said that made you blush more.

You coughed, trying to calm your red face. Then smiled. “If that’s alright.” Kou’s eyes glistened and he smiled. “That’s great! I’ll just tuck in Tiara for now, you’ll wait here. I’ll grab you a mattress, pillows, and a blanket.” He said before running off.

‘Does he know that I don’t really need those?’ You thought. Chuckling, you shook your head. ‘Nevermind. At least it’ll be comfortable. He cares about me.’.

“He’s such a sweetheart.” You lovingly smiled as you caressed the necklace around your neck.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

E/n: This was something... Improvisation. I kinda didn't know much on what to do but I hope this was to your liking! Have a good day/night.

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