#owlish answers asks

[divine-misfortune]

Also 🌹

~owlish

"Jealousy crept in despite his best attempts to tell himself he didn’t care but it turned his expression sour to watch Swiss reach out and touch Rain. Swiss didn’t hesitate, like he wasn’t scared to burn him, and still somehow Rain melted for him."

[owl-of-fandom]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. learn to know your mutuals and followers.❤️🍀

Hi Rory! Thank you so much for the ask 🫶🏻

1. My dog

2. Spending time with my flat mate

3. That it’s finally october (I hate summer and heat with a passion but I adore spooky season)

4. Reading a really good story

5. Lovely fandom people (like you 💕)

[owlishanon]

4, 20, and 36 for the get to know me asks :)

Thank you :D

4 - what are you looking forward to?

Uploading the first chapter of into the eyes of fire (I will do that today)

20 - what is your favourite song at the moment?

It‘s super hard to decide because it changes regularly, but I’d say it’s Nazareth - Sleep Token

36 - 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

1 - making a living by being a content creator

2 - studying chemistry just for knowledge but not to get a job

3 - publish a book

[hanchette]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( wind breaker characters )

a/n: i want suzuri to cook for me

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationship — soft moments

𝐒𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐇𝐄𝐈, you're seated at the back of suzuri's workplace, one that you've called your own with how much you frequent here to visit your boyfriend. he's just as dedicated to his job as you've known him since.

known to never half-assing anything when he can do his best to do it.

and that's why you're here now, suzuri had done his best cooking a meal, one that is wrapped up in a container that he has bought for the two of you—one that he had prepared meticulously with despite his rather clumsy fingers.

"ow." he reacted, although his tone was too flat for you to discern whether he really felt that anyway. nevertheless, you murmured an apology. "sorry."

suzuri kept quiet, allowing you to map the little wounds littered all over his hands as you bandage them with the little ones that possess cute prints.

"i am always worrying you, aren't i?" suzuri breathes out, eyes trained on your hand as you help him patch up.

"you do." you admit, ever since you've met him, ever so self less and kind—so much that he forgets about himself until tsubaki and nakamura found him where he change, albeit slowly.

suzuri breathes through his nose, as soon as you placed the final bandage on his finger, suzuri allows his body to slump forward, his forehead pressing on your hand like he is bowing towards you.

"i promise to do better so you won't then." he mouths against the back of our hand, warm breath fanning your skin as you look down at the man whom dedicated his life towards you.

"how so?" you asked, eyes crinkling at the sides as you look at him—trailing the way his man bun looks good on him.

and his words came in sincerely, "i will practice hard to cook you a perfect meal and try to take care of myself better.. and yet.." he pauses, sucking in a breath, "and yet, at the same time, i don't want to."

your mouth parts, about to ask until he continues, "because I'll miss you patching me up like this."

you shake your head, finding his words silly. feeling how his lithe fingers, wider than your own but the roughness like holding a jagged rock tells about how much his life has been. searching for a place he can safely call home. and though the guys were his family, you were a semblance of what home is.

"shuhei," you call his name, lovingly, tenderly, and suzuri lifts his head, "i will always be with you, don't worry, i will patch you up whenever you need to, take care of you, and continue to love you."

with a smile, suzuri allow a breath of defeat, of course, you'll always be with him. he takes a hold of your hand, kissing the end of your ring finger, a smile etched on his lips.

"okay." was what he could only say.

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀, "what are you?" now, in this same moment, takiishi holds your face in both hands, squishing your cheeks together, owlish eyes staring you down.

"y/n." you offer.

you're seated on his lap, as he had pulled you in when you were walking pass him, takiishi stayed silent, perhaps he did not accepted your answer, merely, staring you down with an intriguing look in his gaze.

he couldn't understand, how his heart would always ache when you're around, how his eyes would always be glued to your every move or how when you're not around, he would crave your presence besides him. and though it is a feeling that always leave him feeling bad about everything, the constant pinning needles that kinks his cold heart or the gnawing in his bones, takiishi would never forsaken this feeling.

endo had told him one time—that takiishi finds you intriguing.

takiishi continues to stare, remembering the moment he had sent endo on an errand to check on you, eager ear listening attentively to any updates on your situation.

you make him feel worse, but at the same time good.

"no." he finally answers, "you, what are you." he repeats his question.

just earlier, you were nothing but a babbling mess towards him, his fist propping his head up as he looks at the view. you're sitting on a terrace of an abandoned house that's situated at roof, a place he found—more like endo did.

topics and topics spewing from your lips until you find yourself laughing and giggling at your own story. which prompted to takiishi to shift his attention to you. bored, dull look placed on you as his free hand brushes your cheek gently. and now, you find yourself in this situation.

and now you're stuck looking at him, you couldn't place a word in, what is he asking of you? what he wants of needs to hear? ahh.. but you know him well enough now, enough to stay by his side.

"your s/o." you answer, watching as his dull gaze only seemingly soften, the stiff look in his eyes relaxing ever so slightly that it has your mind going blank, focus on the very little details that makes takiishi.. him.

you don't understand, somehow, why and how he feels so foreign right now. that nonchalant look still present but he's too- he's not the usual. it's weird, but at the same time, endearing.

"right." he nod once, his free hand going back, thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone.

you're not sure if it was the right answer, but it's enough, it seems, when his eyes stray from your to look at the view, not dull, but softer now.

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔, "hehe, i am so happy you came to me for help." he smiles, stupidly pretty that your heart couldn't help but swoon. he's so beautiful.

"how could i not? you are the right person to come to." you tilt your head, tsubaki giggles in response, dragging the chair in front of you as you straighten in your seat, watching his fingers take a napkin from the stand to wipe your face.

"that's why i am happy."

tsubaki then preps your face, from the soft bristles that glides along your face to the little sponges that press against your skin. "you're so pretty, y/n-chan." he compliments you, watching the color from the brush dust your eyelids.

"thank you.." you croaked out, honestly, you still can't believe you managed to date someone like tsubaki—someone so kind, sweet, and tantalizingly soft when it comes to the matters of the heart. "but you're more pretty than me tsubaki-chan."

you can hear small giggles from his lips, maybe you were making a weird expression? ahhh whatever, at least you made him laugh.

"really now?" his eyes crinkle in delight, "that's odd, why do i find you the most beautiful then?" he pressed a sweet peck on the tip of your nose.

perhaps you would need make up anymore, tsubaki muses, watching the way your eyes go wide and feel the warmness creeping in your face with his hand. "hm? y/n-chan is feeling shy in me now?" he teases, pinching your cheek.

"i suppose you won't need a blush now, am i right? then, the only thing that's missing is your lipstick."

before you could reply, tsubaki shows you his collection of lipsticks, from gloss, matte to tints with various colours, allowing you to choose whatever you want.

until you settle on one that you like.

tsubaki giggles, head tilting slightly, and his long hair following the gesture in a flawless motion.

"close your eyes and pucker your lips." he instructs you, you raised a brow, why would you need to close your eyes if he's applying it to your lips?

and it seems like your face is an open book, your beloved immediately responding, "c'mon, it's a surprise."

and so you did.

your senses heightening with the loss of your eye sight, hearing the cap of the lipstick open and waiting for it to be pressed on your lips.

what you thought would be cold and hard was instead, warm and soft.

familiar that it has you closing your eyes shut, thinking that it is merely an imagination you are feeling, until you feel tsubaki's hand wrap around the side of your neck, his thumb angling your head.

and you feel the pressure deepen.

it wasn't until soon that you feel him parting, your lips chasing what was on them, eyes fluttering open to look at tsubaki—his usual meticulously put on lipstick smudged, and the color is similar to the one you just picked earlier.

"ahh, i messed up on putting it on you, maybe we should try again?"

𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎, he closes his eyes, feeling the way your fingers rake through his hair, these are one of the beautiful moments in his life—and though yamato endo lives for the thrill and the chase he use to do, he also lives here in this moment, in your arms. the two of you usually sleeping in this particular time of the day.

"hey, let's do something fun." he hums, thoughts pushing each other like a train without a brake.

"define fun."

"maybe we should invite takiishi." endo hums, opening one eye to see you looking at him, sporting a scrunched face at the call of his friend's name. "no way." watching you flat out disagree made endo pout, for someone infamous for his fighting skills and terrifying actions, he acts like a kicked puppy towards you in the span of your relationship with him.

"takiishi and fun is fun, ya know?" endo offers, trying to change your mind as he shifts in place from your arms to lay his chin on your chest, eyes still trained on you with intent.

you pursed your lips, squinting at your boyfriend who merely chuckles at the sight of your expression, though takiishi is a good companion—in a way, you don't like how endo always sports an injury after coaxing him for something.

"kidding." endo jokes, kissing your collarbone before nipping at the skin below it, "a' know ya' don't like that, hehe."

his eyes are crescent in shape as he grins at you from below, sneaky and naughty fingers trailing from your side to under your shirt. "endo."

"yeah?"

"stop that."

your words will always be his command, endo sighs, taking off his hand from you only to lift himself up so he can see you face to face. "you're no fun." he murmurs, lowering himself to plant kisses on your lips.

and though no matter how calloused his hands are, how dry his lips is, and how rough he is. endo is gentle.

gentle with the way he never gives you too much of his lips, hovering, small little pecks to keep you chasing but never waiting. "but a' like ya'." he mouths through your lips, hand coming to guide your nape.

"endo.."

and endo, he's a relentless. "ya want me to stop?" his words are soft, never a whisper at that point, it wasn't to ask a question, but asking for your permission.

you nod, eyes fluttering as you watch him grin at you. "kay.." he agrees, pressing his forehead against yours.

there are moment that you just can't believe, how soft he could be. he's danger all around, sharp along the edges and one wrong move, you'll have to lay there bleeding and crying. but that never happens, with endo, you feel safe, you feel stupidly safe.

and like a drug instilled in your system, your fingers, smaller than his—softer than what his could ever be, trace the inks that line his skin, the way the drawings seem to come to life at every twitch of his muscle amazes your eyes, and yet, you favorite would be the infinity on his neck.

"stay like this for a few." endo breathes, closing his eyes and plopping his heavy body on yours like a heavy blanket.

"i thought you wanted fun?" you question, lips tilting as you watch him.

"later." he replies.

he only says that, because he wants to feel more of your touch, soothing the ache in his soul and guiding him to a paradise he calls you. "for now, i want this." he muffled out through the soft pillows.

[juuuulez]

thinking about consensual somnophilia with carmy

it’s not a casual thing. even if you express interest in it, and ensure him you don’t mind, he won’t ever do it on a random occasion. it’ll have to be planned out, pre-prepared:

like on a night where you both know carmy will come home late. so you have a nice relaxing bath, maybe a little wine, read your book. get all snug and cozy in bed and drift off. and carmy messaged you, like, 5 times during service asking how your night was, if you still wanted him. the answer was always a resounding yes.

so he’s quiet as he undresses, eyes wide and owlish as they stare at you in the bed. when carmy delves under the covers, he finds you’re already wet for him, having pleasured yourself before bed to ensure you were nice and ready. you smell good. like coconut body wash and your skin shines with the remnants of a nice body oil.

carmy hardens quickly under his own hand, stroking and pulling and savouring the sight of you naked in bed, waiting for him, peacefully unaware but also so devoted to proving that you’re his, always.

and he’s trying so so hard to be quiet. to keep the moment going, keep you asleep while he slips between your dewy folds, pushing deep inside. he pants next to your ear, breathing laboured and strained as the feeling overwhelms him.

maybe the excitement was too much to truly fall asleep, anyway. for with carmy barely holding in his groans, and the sensation of slowly being filled, you awake with a slow start. it’s groggy and hazy and feels so good, barely aware but coherent enough to understand that you’ve got carmy again, that he’s here and he’s letting himself indulge.

he makes a particularly strangled noise, poorly muffled into your neck, prompting you to take mercy on him. your hand lazily finds his curls, pushing them away from his face, bringing him up into your vision.

knowing you’re awake seems to startle him, mouth parted and eyes wide as carmy stares down at you. “hey.” he whispers, sounding already so wrecked, but full of adoration and love.

“hi.” you whisper back to him, smiling up at his cute little face. you swallow his noises with kisses, making it clear that you’re enjoying the moment, to which he appreciates the nonverbal reassurance.

the sex is soft and sleepy and carmy lets himself melt into your cunt, body strewn over yours like a blanket, huffing and gasping between the constant stream of praise you deliver:

such a good boy for me, ‘m so proud of you.

know just how to make me happy.

yeah? feels good? y’can have me like this whenever you want, baby. ‘m yours.

[planetxiao]

# SOMEBODY TOLD ME

𖤐 niko ikki ; isagi yoichi ; itoshi rin x reader

⟢ fluff, lil bit of crack, college au, scenarios // rumor has it that you’re dating your best friend, the star of your university’s soccer team. how do they react to you not denying it?

As you and your best friend were on your way to the bus stop after class, a group of people approached you with a rather interesting question.

"Hey, there's a rumor that you two are dating. Is it true?"

𖤐 NIKO IKKI

Niko froze. The question had completely caught him off guard, this being the first he had heard of it, as well as it pertaining to your relationship with him. He knew that he had garnered some attention from being called the "star" of the university's soccer team, but he hadn't thought much of it at all.

He couldn't even take a glance at you to gauge your reaction, knowing that if he did, his cheeks would burn even hotter than they already were. His heartbeat rang in his ears as the organ thrummed against his ribcage painfully; he worried it was so loud that you could've heard it. To have someone else pose this question while he hadn't even worked up the courage to ask you yet — it felt like a cruel joke from God.

He kept his mouth closed as he lowered his gaze, deciding to let you handle this messy situation. He wondered how you'd answer, though he was sure it wouldn't play out in his favor. After all, he hadn't thought there was even a chance that you'd return his feelings.

But, to his surprise, he felt the tickle of your skin against his palm. You slid your hand into his hold, interlocking your fingers and giving him a slight squeeze. He gasped quietly, sea green eyes widening and peeking through his bangs to see your soft smile.

"Yep, it's true!" You exclaimed, a small giggle escaping your throat.

The crowd grew antsy, whispers carrying through the air as you led Niko through them. He paid no mind to the people around him, too wrapped up in the honeyed words that left your mouth seconds ago.

You didn't deny it at all. You did the exact opposite. And he couldn't figure out why. Well, more accurately, he wouldn't accept the reason he knew to be the only plausible one.

Niko’s mind wouldn't stop replaying the scene in his head while he let you drag him along to your destination. It was then that he realized how warm your hand felt in his, and how much he truly yearned to hold it forever.

But before he got too ahead of himself, Niko halted his steps. At the small resistance, you turned to him with a tilt of your head. Niko took a deep breath, dropping his gaze back down to the ground.

"Why didn't you deny it?" He asked, attempting to hide the shake in his voice.

Silence hung in the air for a couple seconds — the longest seconds of Niko's life — before you uttered the words that Niko had always hoped to hear.

"Because I like you, dummy."

𖤐 ISAGI YOICHI

Isagi never knew the feeling of his heart catching in his throat until that moment. Each syllable that had curled within the girl’s seemingly taunting smile weighed heavy on his chest like stones. He felt as if his biggest secret had been revealed, and depending on his answer, it very well could have been.

His cheeks immediately blossomed a rosy color, eyes widening and mouth falling open slightly. How was he supposed to react to this?

He was less concerned with the fact that people had been speculating things about him behind his back, and more so with how the topic of the hearsay had to do with you; not to mention, it was something so embarrassing.

He wondered what you thought of all this. Were you as embarrassed as he was? Was the confrontation making you uncomfortable? Did the thought of dating him disgust you? But when his gaze flit to you, he couldn't decipher any answers from your slightly owlish expression. He could only guess what ran through your head — while also admiring the way your parted lips looked ever so soft and your eyes shimmered with golden curiosity. Whatever Isagi had inferred made his stomach lurch. He better fix this quick.

“Ah-“ He started, but the words evaporated from his tongue as the question echoed in his mind once again.

A pregnant silence permeated the air unbearably, occupying the space Isagi had planned on using to dispel the problem. Though only for fleeting seconds, Isagi felt time pass like interminable hours. He knew what he needed to do — what he should’ve said — but his heart made no motion to follow through with the action.

That's when you hummed, the sweet sound alone causing butterflies to flutter within his system with fervor.

"Mhm, definitely!"

Huh?

Did you just confirm you two were dating? Even though he hadn't asked you yet?

His head snapped to you, mouth sputtering open and closed like a fish. What were you doing? You had to know that answering like that would drive him insane. Or else, why would you say that?

When greeted with your endearing closed-eyed smile, Isagi's thoughts began spiraling more rapidly. Through his internal predicament, he failed to notice the crowd dispersing, satisfied with the information they had been provided.

His fixed gaze had been shaken by the sound of your small laugh, finding his expression rather amusing.

"C'mon Yoichi," You teasingly poked the tip of his nose, "We're gonna miss the bus."

But Isagi didn't move; rather, when you turned on your heel, his hand grasped your wrist quickly.

"Wait."

Isagi gulped. He needed clarity on the situation that just unfolded. There was no way he could continue normally after what had just happened. At least, not without finding out why you had done what you did.

"Why did you tell them we're dating?" He asked.

With an innocent gaze, you answered, "Why not? I mean, I like you a lot, Yoichi.”

Isagi's breathed hitched in his throat. The familiar scarlet color returned to his face, trailing all the way up to his ears. Your confession was one he yearned for longer than he'd care to admit, and yet it simply didn't feel real.

He knew he had to say something back, but his brain had turned to mush, leaving him to flounder amongst the sea of words he wished to say.

All he could muster was, "O-Oh. That's good, 'cause I feel the same."

A giggle had escaped your lips at how shy he had become. You had already figured that out, but to save him the embarrassment, you decided to keep it to yourself. Though, you had to admit, red was a nice color on him.

𖤐 ITOSHI RIN

It was not uncommon to see Rin's disinterest etched rather clearly in his eyes when he was approached for something so unnecessary. How a mere rumor, lacking the foundation of truth nor mirth, could entertain so many was lost on him. Especially when it was none of their business — even more so, that it was his own.

Though he showed his disdain for the subject, it was nothing he wasn't used to. As the star of the university team, Rin was constantly the talk of campus. He gained immense popularity for his looks, as well as his skill, but his apathy toward it was resounding; you had felt the way it colored his aura so strikingly, you were surprised no one else noticed. Or, perhaps, that's what drew people to him.

In any case, Rin remained unbothered as he was presented with the question. It was you, instead, whose jaw had almost dropped to the floor.

You had quite the crush on the soccer player, and though you tried keeping your cool, it seemed you weren't hiding it well. The inquiry had, truthfully, caught you off guard; you hadn't ever thought of the possibility of such an inference being made about yours and Rin's relationship.

Admittedly, you didn't hate it. It was quite the opposite, actually.

So, you schemed: just a fun little joke to tease the stoic man.

"Yup! He's all mine, right my love?"

You really thought your obnoxious answer would earn you an eye roll, a scoff, a dismissive comment, something from him. But Rin didn't say anything. Actually, you could've sworn there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. But, before you could say for certain, he had turned around with intent to continue his trek to the bus stop.

"Let's go," He had said before taking his first step away from the gawking crowd.

You blinked. What was that?

That did not go how you thought it would at all. But, all you could do was follow behind Rin with eyes that could revel the moon. What did this all mean? Usually, he would've told you to shut up and in his own way denied that the rumor was true; this time, he just... walked away? Did you piss him off?

"Uh, Rin?" You started, matching his stride as best as you could, "You didn't deny what I said... or tell me to shut up. Are you feeling ill?"

He glanced down at you, as if analyzing your expression, before asking something that made your heart jolt.

"Is that what you wanted?"

It felt as if the oxygen filling your lungs had promptly dissipated, leaving you struggling to breathe. You truly did not know how to answer. He had to be messing with you or something.

Your gaze flit to your shoes as your brows knitted together, wondering what was even going on inside his head.

"Well, not exactly..."

"Then I don't see the problem."

You nearly choked.

You pondered on it all the way to the bus stop with gaze trained on the passing pavement. Was this his way of getting back at you? You couldn’t understand how your small attempt at teasing Rin ended with you hiding your burning cheeks.

Whatever it was, you were tired of being embarrassed. You turned to face him with slightly puffed cheeks and a finger poking his chest.

"Okay, Itsoshi Rin, stop messing with me. What the hell is going on?"

This was when you expected Rin to fess up and stop this whole conflicting charade, but instead, you were met with a deadpanned expression.

“We’re dating now, idiot.”

note: it’s like each part just got longer so i apologize for them not being the same length djbdje also this is my rin debut so i hope he’s not too ooc ehe

[junkdrawerfics]

Hi, first of all, I am obsessed with your Jasper fics they make me feel all warm and fuzzy.

If you are taking requests, can I please request Jasper gifting the reader an old heirloom from his human family? Thank you and have a nice day :)

Unexpected Gifts

Hi! Thank you for this really cute request! I hope I did it justice, I literally spent so many hours just staring at the screen, struggling with it. I don't know how I feel about it but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Jasper Whitlock X Reader

Warnings: None, maybe like a tiny bit sad at parts?

Word Count: 1319

---

“I have somethin’ for you, darlin’.”

You glance up from your book to watch Jasper lean over to swipe a wooden box from the nightstand. He holds it tenderly, as if it might break, the box looking so small in his hands. The dark wood appears almost black against his pale skin, the dainty gold latch on the front matching his eyes.

“What is it?” You ask, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Jasper grins, your warmth spreading over him as you lean into his side, peering at the jewelry box with wide, owlish eyes. And they only go wider when he opens the box.

Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, is a necklace. It’s a little, silver locket, the front engraved with a simple bouquet of flowers. It looks worn, but in a deeply loved kind of way, where the metal is polished from years and years of touch. The chain is dainty, glimmering when Jasper lifts it out of the box. You can’t help but hold your breath when he settles it in your palm.

“Jazz,” you whisper, running a finger gingerly over the faint grooves in the metal, “it’s beautiful.”

He tilts his chin in a silent request for you to turn around, “May I?”

You bite back a smile, shuffling excitedly to face the wall. He moves slowly, methodically fastening the locket around your neck, fingers tracing over your shoulder as he pulls your hair loose. His touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. Then he suddenly pulls you back into his chest, strong arms winding around your waist, and you feel his lips at the base of your neck.

“Jasper!” You squeak, stiffening, face flushing a million shades of red. 

The blond chuckles, the sound rich and deep. It vibrates through his whole body, making your heart leap into your throat as he leans further into you. Stupid, charming vampire. When did he get so cheeky?

“You’re getting too confident for your own good,” you grumble, looking down at the necklace to hide your flushed face, as if he can’t hear your heart racing.

“I know how you really feel, darlin’,” Jasper teases against your neck, lips still brushing your skin. It makes your knees go weak, a shaky hum rattling from your chest as you hold the locket tighter.

That’s when you feel a small engraving on the back. You flip it over gently, eyes tracing over the delicate, looping letters.

‘L.W.’

Initials? Not yours. Not Jasper’s. Your curiosity comes flooding back again. Jasper must feel the shift because he turns more serious, propping his chin on your shoulder to see what’s caught your eye. Before you can even ask the question, he answers it.

“Laura Whitlock.”

His voice is soft, barely a whisper. You glance at him, chest constricting at the new look in his eyes. His composure slips, a mixture of pain and grief swirling with deep affection shining through. They look distant, lost in old memories.

Gently, you lift a hand to his face, and Jasper shutters, eyelashes fluttering as he takes in a sharp breath. Those gold eyes lock on yours again, back in the present, back with you. Your concern washes over him like a summer shower, softening him.

“Don’t worry about me, sugar,” he hums, covering the hand on his cheek with his own. He turns his head, lips pressing to your palm with a smile.

But your frown doesn’t ease. Not with how his voice plays over and over in your mind. Laura Whitlock. You can guess who it is, and the thought makes your whole heart ache.

“It was your mom’s?”

Jasper nods, watching on expectantly. You bite your lip, vision suddenly going blurry as you look back down at the locket. His mother’s. His mother’s necklace. The weight of the realization settles on you like a blanket of snow.

“I don’t know if I can accept this, Jasper,” you breathe out shakily, reaching to take it off.

He doesn’t let you though. The vampire catches your hands, fingers gentle but firm around your wrists, trapping them to your chest. 

“It belongs to you now, darlin’.”

“But-”

“She would of wanted you to have it.”

A lump forms in your throat. 

You wish you could meet her. Tell her how wonderful her son is. How he is the gentlest, most considerate man you’ve ever met. How every breathing moment, you feel so choked with love for him, so overwhelmed with fondness you can never catch your breath. And everything he does just makes you want to know him more, until you know him better than yourself.

“Will you tell me about her?” You relent, keeping your eyes glued to your hands, wiggling your fingers until he interlaces them with his.

Jasper doesn’t hesitate to share this part of his past with you. His voice practically glows with affection as he recounts stories of his mother. Sweet ones, like when he was a child and she would take him to a field and read him stories until the sun set. Sad ones, like when they lost the family dog, and she held him the entire night. You can picture them all, a small Jasper with big, brown eyes, and an even bigger smile, right next to a young woman with sweeping gold curls, just like his, and a gentle face brimming with love.

“We weren’t the richest family, but she never made us feel that way. My father spent months savin’ up to buy this for her birthday.” He taps the locket softly, a low laugh passing his lips. “Nearly lost it the day of. He had us tear the house up lookin’ for it.”

“But you found it.”

“Yes we did,” Jasper assures with a nod, “She never took it off after that night.”

You can understand why. It must have meant so much to her. And to you. It’s more than a necklace. It’s a sign of trust. A sign of devotion. 

“I don’t think I will either,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze, “Somebody would have to kill me to get this necklace. Like, fully dead, never come back kind of kill.”

Jasper snorts, the sound somehow still refined coming from him. You both know it won’t happen, not if either of you had anything to say about it. This might as well be a ring, because in this moment, all you can think about is the rest of forever you get to spend with this man.

All of your nerves and doubts fizzle into the background as you lean into Jasper. You feel lighter, a smile perching on your lips when the blond leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“Thank you, Jasper,” you whisper, “Thank you for trusting me with this. I’ll do my best to earn it.”

“You already have,” he replies, and the seriousness in his voice makes your heart flutter all over again. “I trust you with my life, darlin’.“

Just as you do with him. But he knows that. He can feel it as you snuggle into him, eyes fluttering shut with a content hum. Jasper holds you a little closer, a little tighter, soaking in the warmth of all your emotions. You stay like that for hours, or at least what feels like hours, before you have to go home.

The moment you get there, you go to the mirror on your dresser and look at yourself. Well, yourself with the necklace. Tracing the chain tenderly, you can’t help but envision the picture you can put inside. You and Jasper, maybe on your wedding day, or the day you finally join them for eternity.

Either way, you’ll never take it off. Not when you can simply look down and be reminded of every single reason you love Jasper Whitlock. 

And of how much he loves you.

---

I have a lot more story ideas for 'X Jasper' fics, so keep an eye out! Thank you for reading, your comments and love really push me to keep writing.

Feel free to send in requests!

[strawberryspence]

sit with you in the trenches

Steddie Week / Day 4: Hurt/Comfort ( @steddie-week )

-

Eddie paces around the small living room. All the lights are open, every single one. It’s the only thing that gives him comfort.

The television is murmuring softly in the background. The man is still going on and on about the names of the victims of the fire.

Eddie wrangles his hands, waiting to hear the worst news of his life.

“Hanes. Hanewood. Hawork.”

Eddie pulls on his hair, a breath of relief caught on his lungs.

No Harrington. Steve’s fine. He’s just late. A day late. His “stickler for a schedule” boyfriend has been missing for a day and Eddie can’t even do anything. Can’t do anything because if he does anything it would raise questions.

There’s a crunch of gravel outside that makes Eddie jump, immediately opening the trailer door. There it is. The beamer.

Eddie freezes on his spot, a sound in between a sob and a cheer escaping his mouth. He watches as Steve comes out of the car, but the side door also opens, and— who?— Eddie squints. Robin Buckley comes out.

“Hey, Eds.” Steve greets him, his voice cracks, as soon as the lights hit him. Eddie gasps.

Steve’s face is swollen. Swollen is saying it lightly. His left eye is swollen shut, his lips busted. He’s still wearing the damn Scoops Ahoy uniform.

“Oh my god, swe— Steve.” Eddie pulls the door open, but his eyes stray to Robin who’s glued beside his boyfriend’s side.

Steve pulls her closer, “Eddie, you know Robin, right?”

“Yes.” Eddie trails slowly.

“We were in the fire together and she didn’t want to leave my side. But then, I wanted to go see you.” Steve says, “She’s safe.”

Robin nods earnestly, “I am a lesbian.”

“Oh.” Eddie whispers, blinking before saying, “Oh. Come in, come in.”

He opens the door wider for the two of them. They both stumble inside the trailer like conjoined twins, falling immediately on the couch.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, though he is afraid to hear the answer.

“There was a fire.” Steve answers, “I saved Robin and a few other people. Hence… my face.”

He moves to get an ice pack for his face and blanket for Robin. Eddie doesn’t fully believe it, but it doesn’t really matter right now.

He’ll ask tomorrow and Steve will tell him the same thing. Eddie will learn the truth by himself, in a few more months, a floating cheerleader in front of him.

“Here,” Eddie sits beside him, putting the ice on his boyfriend’s eye, “Robin, do you need anything?”

Robin stares at him with owlish eyes. So different from the girl he had band practices with. He always had his inkling that she might be one of them, but he never thought he'd find out this way.

She shakes her head slowly, accepting the blanket and wrapping it around her arms, “No. This is good enough. Thank you for letting me stay."

They all sit in silence for what could’ve been hours, and Eddie doesn’t really believe in God, but he thanks some kind of deity for letting his boyfriend come home safely.

“I am sorry.” Steve breaks the silence a few minutes later, taking the ice off his eye.

“For what?”

“For being late. For making you worry.” Steve says. Eddie turns to Robin to check on her, but she’s dead asleep on Steve’s lap.

“Does she know we’re dating?” Eddie asks.

Steve smiles shyly, “Yeah. It was a big bonding moment. She thought I was talking about her, leading to her coming out to me and then I told her about my wonderful, metalhead boyfriend.”

Eddie smiles, brushing his hand through Steve’s hair as he lays on his side with a sigh of relief.

“You did good, baby. You just adopted your first lesbian.” Eddie jokes, making Steve crack a smile.

“Does anything hurt? Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Eddie asks.

“No.” Steve says immediately, like he hates the prospect of going to the hospital, “I just— I just wanted— wanted to see you. I know if I went then you won’t be able to come.”

Eddie smiles fondly, “Alright, Stevie. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you guys wake up.”

Steve hums in response, but he’s already drifting into sleep, falling deeper into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie kisses the crown of his head, pulling him closer to him. The relief of having Steve here beside him, safe and alive, is something he will never take for granted again.

Tomorrow, Eddie will shower him (and Robin) with love and care. But right now, he tightens his embrace around him and let’s the relief sweep him off his feet.

[freesia-writes]

Okay I have a request 😌

"someone's hair ending up getting caught in the others glasses/jewelry" with Tech ❤️

Hah! This one is a twofer! Requested by you as well as @littlemissmanga. What good taste you both have! ;) Thanks so much for the request; I love writing our dear sweet Tech! Also, adorable reblog divider artwork down below by @vimse!

Tech x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.6k

Tech’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, furrowing his brow and analyzing the components of the current situation. You’d been working together for quite a while now, and it had been increasingly difficult for him to compartmentalize or deny the feelings you created simply with your proximity, your thoughts, and your humor. Now, crammed in the maintenance corridor with barely a few inches between you, he was nearly overcome with the rush of sensations that were occurring. 

Your face was scrunched in your look of intense focus that he’d noted as remarkably endearing. The wires and conduits normally held his full attention, but as he stood in the narrow space with his shoulder brushing against yours, he was struggling to focus on the task at hand. There was a light fragrance that he could just barely catch a whiff of, and it was as alluring as it was pleasant. The sound of your muttering gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest, and as a small shower of sparks cascaded from your soldering hands, he felt the same in his stomach. 

Pausing in your work, you lifted the face mask above your head, regarding him with fond curiosity. His owlish eyes seemed even larger than normal, and he had been uncharacteristically quiet this time around. You were slightly concerned, and also somewhat humored as you realized you honestly missed his steady stream of information shared while working, whether it pertained to the current assignment or not. 

“Everything alright?” you asked, shifting slightly to ease the soreness where one durasteel panel had been digging into your shoulder as you’d hunched over the circuitry. His eyes flitted to yours before returning to the wires, although they didn’t seem to be focused. 

“Ah… yes,” Tech said after a pause, clearing his throat and pointing vaguely at the work area. “The adjustments so far appear to have been in order, and the final few steps shall complete it satisfactorily.” 

You smiled, tilting your head but accidentally banging the bulky face cover into the panel. You pulled it off your head for a moment, sliding your arm down the narrow space and dropping it near your feet. “I meant with you,” you clarified, reaching out to touch his arm. He wasn’t watching, and he visibly jumped at the touch, causing you to pull your hand back apologetically. You hadn’t complained when he insisted on joining you for the repairs, and the fact that he’d foregone his full armor kit in favor of his blacks had been quite the perk. It made it easier for you to steal glances at his toned physique from behind the dark lens of your protective gear, and the “accidental” brushes against one another felt ten times more enthralling without the bulky plastoid between you. 

“I am also in satisfactory working order,” he replied pertly, and you chuckled at the quick reply. 

“You’re unusually quiet,” you pointed out. “It feels weird without your informational accompaniment.”

“Apologies,” Tech answered, still refusing to meet your gaze. “A numerous variety of concerns are vying for my attention and while I am able to entertain many simultaneously, there appear to be significantly more than usual.” 

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, squeezing yourself a little closer. You loved the chance to hear him open up a little. He spoke often of anything and everything in the galaxy, but spoke little of his internal world. When he did let you in, it was enthralling and enchanting, always leaving you wanting more. But you didn’t want to press, so you waited and watched for the occasions where he was willing to respond to your invitation to vulnerability. 

“I have no wish to burden you as well.”

“Tech,” you said softly, touching his arm again but leaving your hand on it this time. His golden eyes finally lifted to yours, sending a thrill down your spine. His mouth was in a thin line as you continued, “It’s not a burden… I really enjoy hearing your thoughts.” You were always soft with him, but something about this sudden fragility made you want to cup his face in your hands and whisper affirmation and affection. You’d long since stuffed down your little crush on him, realizing it wasn’t something he would ever reciprocate and therefore would only lead to disappointment. But you still took whatever you could get, relishing any sense of closeness with the intelligent engineer. 

“While I am appreciative of your desire to be supportive and attentive,” he began, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands at his sides, “I would prefer to have them a bit more organized before sharing.”

Now you were really curious. And equally obligated to respect his privacy and wishes. But somehow it made your heart yearn even more. Whatever this was, this moment of being suddenly off-balance, it felt like the space between you was electrically charged… And the magnetic pull you felt toward him was amplified beyond anything you’d felt before. 

“I understand,” you said, idly brushing your thumb back and forth across his forearm as you looked at his gloved hands. You edged a little closer, drawn in by the way he studied you with a new curiosity, as though there were a new facet he’d just discovered that he was eager to explore. He was simultaneously alluring and cautious, and you were thoroughly hooked. “Does this bother you?” you asked, nodding toward your hand on his arm. 

“No.”

A small smile ghosted across your face and you hummed contentedly in response. An invisible force was pushing you, encouraging you on, and you looked back up to his face, turning slightly in the narrow corridor to face him fully. Clearly and slowly, so he could stop you at any moment, you lifted your other hand to his cheek, trying to steady your shaking fingers as you brushed the backs of them across it before opening them to stroke it with your thumb. He was frozen in place, eyes now moving rapidly from yours to the ground to the wires to anything and everything else he could spot. 

“Does this?” you whispered, irresistibly leaning in a little closer. 

“No,” he breathed, closing his eyes in an attempt to focus his swirling mind. It was a shockingly new sensation that felt like it deserved significant time and attention to process appropriately, and yet he found himself simply wanting to commit it all to memory, to be fully present and soak it all up. The vulnerability on his dashing features made your heart swell in your chest, and you continued on, propelled by the momentum and the thrill of it all. 

You left your hand on his cheek, breathing through your mouth as you tilted your head and lightly rested your forehead on his. His sharp inhale was the only response, and he left his eyes closed. It hit you like a ton of bricks suddenly – he trusted you. For someone who always had as complete an understanding of any situation as could be attained, he was wildly out of his element here. Yet he wasn’t frantically searching for the right answer or trying to escape, and you were thoroughly enamored. 

He kissed you. 

Tingles washed over you from head to toe and it took you a second to realize what was happening. With a quick tip of his chin, his lips had met yours, pressing gently and precariously. You snaked an arm around his waist, lightly resting it on his hips, and snuggled a little closer, never wanting it to end. You were both uncomfortably cramped, shifting around each other in attempts to get arms and legs more comfortably nestled together, but it was fruitless. 

When he finally did pull away, taking an immediate deep breath, your absolute bliss was interrupted by a sharp tug on your head. You gasped as he made his own sound of surprised distaste, and you peered through your hair to see his goggles crooked on his face. He was trying to get his arms up to his own face, impeded by both your body and the wiring panels, and you unsuccessfully tried to suppress a chuckle as you realized what was going on. The small instrument on the side of his goggles had somehow snagged a decently-sized chunk of your hair, and the slightest of motions the two of you had made together had thoroughly tangled them together.

“Oh my gosh,” you laughed, flushed with excitement and embarrassment and everything else all at once. “Sorry… Here, let me get my…” you drifted off, trying to get your own hands to your head for an assist. Somehow that made things worse, and you accidentally smacked his wrist against his goggles, pushing them further to the side and jabbing them into his nose. 

“This is not ideal,” Tech muttered, attempting to unwind the hairs warped around the tiny space between the goggle strap and the recorder. His fruitless endeavor finally led him to pull the goggles off completely, giving you the freedom to stand up straight again. You rubbed the back of your neck, heart still fluttering in your chest as you smiled at his peevish squint. 

“Not ideal, no,” you agreed, reaching a hand over his to free the goggles from your hair. “But certainly memorable.” 

“I posit that it would have been memorable with or without the unnecessarily distracting interruption,” he said, taking his goggles from your outstretched hand and pulling them back into place. As he blinked at you with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty, you diffused the situation with a comical little eyebrow waggle. 

“Why don’t we test that theory?”

[lemurzsquad]

And because you love Bokuto, how about a silly little drabble about picking a new mattress?

Okay so I know you sent this so so long ago, but in my attempt to get back into writing to fill the void that school has left, I just kept coming back to this prompt, I hope you don't mind that it took so long :')

I was in the mood to make a cozy fic because they make me happy, so have this 🤲 it's also like 3am and I desperately need sleep, so this is also not proofread fjsbjd

Word count: 940

“So, unfortunately, that specific mattress is currently out of stock at this location.”

You stood in front of the counter in the middle of the store, surrounded by a whole showroom of countless mattresses. Next to you, seemingly distracted, was your husband Bokuto. He looked around aimlessly and turned his head at even the slightest bit of movement, whether it be the cars outside or the light that flickered at inconsistent intervals. Not a single bit of his attention was on the sales associate in front of you both.

The young man continued, “You could visit one of our other stores that may have it in stock, or we could order it for you and have it delivered to this store earlier than when our next shipment is set to arrive.”

You were about to ask Bokuto for his opinion, but when you glanced at him, you could clearly see his gaze locked on a couple of mattresses you hadn’t looked at yet. With an amused smile and a shake of your head, you said, “I think we’ll have it delivered here if it's not too much trouble.”

The sales associate nodded. “Then I’ll just need you to give me some contact information and a little bit of time, and then we’ll be all set!”

As he went to type on his computer and print out a couple papers, you squeezed Bokuto’s hand to get his attention. Immediately, he redirected his eyes to you and tilted his head in the owlish way that he does, silently asking if you needed something.

“You can look around a little more while I fill out some papers,” you answered quietly.

He grinned at that. Lightly pecking your cheek, he let go of your hand and scampered off into the maze of display beds and pillow shelves.

After only a handful of minutes, the mattress had successfully been ordered. It was time to leave, and with a quick scan of the store you realized something.

Bokuto was… nowhere to be found.

So, with a fond sigh, you began to look around, acutely aware that the business was closing in maybe ten minutes. The search was, thankfully, fairly quick with how empty the building was and with how much Bokuto stood out in any setting. Hidden away in an alcove, one of the display beds sat with the side against a window that stretched a fourth of the wall longways. 

Draped with his feet and half of his shins hanging off the foot of the bed was your husband. His chest and cheek were sunk into the mattress, and with how still he laid, you could only assume he had fallen asleep.

A little wisp of a laugh left you in a huff. Why am I not surprised? you mused to yourself. Softly, you approached to lay down beside him, tucking your cheek against the crook of your elbow. With your other hand, you carded your fingers lovingly through Bokuto’s spiky yet silky hair.

He let out a groan that sounded as though the words “just five more minutes” would slip from his lips if you hadn’t spoken first.

“Koutarou~” Your voice drifted to him quietly, gently pulling him back to the waking world.

He let out another drowsy noise but cracked an eye open to see you next to him. His other eye was practically forced to stay shut with how his cheek was smushed into the fabric of the bed.

“Hey, sleepyhead…” You smiled lopsidedly, your own cheek pressed into your arm. “Welcome back to the waking world.”

Still half asleep, Bokuto gazed at you in a soft, dazed look filled with nothing but unguarded awe and affection. You looked angelic; the sunset beyond the glass shone as if only to sit as a halo around the crown of your head. Your fond grin was nothing short of breathtaking in its own right, but waking up to see it was as though he was still basking in the last stretches of dream that had cradled him through the night.

“I think I see an angel…” He mumbles sleepily, “Is this heaven…?”

Your smile grew wider, and the creases at the corners of your eyes and between your eyebrows as they pushed together earnestly became more pronounced.

“No, sweetheart,” you answered softly. “This is the mattress store. And it closes in five minutes.”

He huffed at that, turning his face to groan dejectedly into the mattress. After a fit of giggles and, in response, unhappy grumbles, you managed to grab his arm and pull him to his feet—although, with significant resistance. Bokuto hung off of you the whole way out and back home like a wet towel, leaning what felt like all of his weight as he did, much to your dismay.

Between chuckles, you asked, “Are you sure you didn’t want that mattress?”

He shook his head against your shoulder. “No, that mattress was terrible…” He couldn’t help another yawn from escaping.

“Didn’t seem like it,” you remarked, amused. You teased, “I almost had to leave without you, you know.”

“Nooo…” He whined as he tightened his arms around your waist and further buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You couldn’t help but coo as your hand came up to run comfortingly through his hair. It was no surprise that when you arrived home, he immediately collapsed on your soon-to-be-replaced bed, dragging you down with him.

Sure, you protested, saying you both needed to put on pajamas and do your usual nighttime rituals, but who were you to stand against the power of a soft, pleading, “Just five more minutes…”

Do not copy and/or repost!! Any likes, comments, or reblogs are appreciated, though! (c) 2024 LemurzSquad

[divine-misfortune]

Grape, peach and lavender!

~owlish anon

!!! Aww

Literally feel free to wander into my asks whenever, doent even gotta be ghost related :))

[owl-of-fandom]

I love all of your fanfics so much. Anytime I'm sad or if I'm taking taking a quick break, I will come read one of your microfics. Omg I love you, and I love it all. 💕 Thank you for making not just me happy but also so many other readers happy. 🥺

Sorry this took me a while because I just needed to keep this happy gem for myself a little while and grin like mad or giggle to myself rereading this 😅😌

I’m really glad that you like my fics and that they can be a happy place for you! I’m very 🥹 about it!

Thank you so so much!! You are such a sweetheart and I love you 🩷 I’m offering you eternal friendship if you want! Let me (virtually) smooch you 😚

Please come and chat with me anytime 🫶🏻

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - Chapter Six

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

living in an aftermath, joel tries to hold her together as she falls apart.

warnings | 18+ smut, significant angst, canon-typical violence

wordcount: 4.3K (we were concise this week lol)

a/n | this is a rather insular chapter, and it happens to be one of my favorites so far. feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think <3

p.s. if i had to offer one song for this chapter, it'd be magneto by nick cave and the bad seeds (yes, more nick cave, sue me)

.......................................

“Nothing?” “I don’t think she even touched the plate, old man.” Ellie huffs, setting the plate of what had been dinner down on the kitchen counter, the plate that Joel had placed in front of the closed guestroom door last night with a quiet plea for her to eat something. But judging by the untouched look of the food, his plea went unanswered. 

“Alright, kid, I’ll check on her. You better get to school.” Ellie nods, though she makes no move to leave, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at him.

“Do you think she’s gonna, like, be ok?” Joel has to clear his throat before answering her, trying to make his voice sound as certain as he can.

“She’ll be ok, kid. It’s just a– a hard thing– what happened. But she’ll be ok, I’m gonna make sure of it.” Ellie offers him a faint smile, her brow still scrunched up in worry.

“We’ll make sure of it, right? I can help too, y’know.” He has to smile at that, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze as he nods.

“I know, kid. You’re right, we’ll make sure she’s ok. Now you better get to class before you’re late– again.” It’s just enough levity for her smile to broaden, her eyes to roll with a huff, and then Ellie’s out the door, and Joel’s shoulders slump immediately. 

When he goes upstairs, Stevie is laying in front of the guestroom, swiping her paw under the closed door in what could only be frustration. She and Stevie have been staying with them for a little over two weeks now. It hadn’t been soon after that day he found her in her shop that she showed up in the middle of the night at his front door, wide-eyed and disheveled. She hadn’t known where else to go after someone had thrown a rock into one of the windows of her house. And then, when he had walked her to her shop the next morning, he had been stunned speechless at the words smeared over the door in thick, black paint.

Witch

Slut

Baby killer

She hasn’t left his house since, and she’s barely left the guestroom he set her up in either.

“Darlin? I’m coming in, alright?” He doesn’t wait for a response, knowing now from prior experience that he’d just be waiting forever. Stevie darts in the second he cracks open the door, making a beeline for the bed where her mom is curled up under a swath of blankets, even though it’s the beginning of September and still plenty warm out.

He kneels down alongside the bed, right next to where her face is half smushed into her pillow, her eyes cracking open to peer at him. Faded dark circles face him, and his heart catches at the sight. 

“Hey, darlin. Think we oughta get some food in you, huh?” She lets out a long sigh, blinking hard a few times.

“Not right now, Joel. I’m just– really tired.” That’s become her new favorite phrase, and it scares him more than when she had been endlessly crying. It’s always said on a breathy exhale, like she’s trying to be casual about the fact that she’s been in bed for days, and seems to have no plans of getting out anytime soon. Any emotion is masked behind her flat voice and vacant eyes, and he’d give just about anything for a glimmer of something. Anger, sadness, he’d even take fear right now, just any proof that she’s still there. But there’s nothing, just her owlish stare, and Stevie nuzzling up against the blankets.

“Alright, not right now. Will you drink some water, at least? For me, please?” You’d think that he just asked her to run a marathon with the exhausted huff she lets out, shifting slowly to sit up with her back against the headboard, her head lolling onto her shoulder to look at him. It’s such a far cry from the woman he’s gotten used to, all slow movements and barely-there words as he offers her the glass of water he brought up for her. She takes two little sips then slumps down, handing him back the glass and scrunching her eyes shut.

“Baby, I-I’m really tired– I just need to lay down for a while.” He can feel his frustration rising, but he swallows it down, taking her hand in his and squeezing lightly. She doesn’t squeeze back.

“Ok, darlin, I know you are. Gotta get to work, but you know where I’ll be, right?” All he gets from her is a nod as she lays back down, curling in on her side. 

“Think you might get cleaned up today? Bet a shower would feel good.” Another long sigh.

“I just got a shower yesterday.”

“That– that was Monday, darlin, remember? It’s Friday now.” That’s new, and it makes fear kick up in his chest, cold and frantic. She, however, isn’t phased by it, simply shrugging her shoulders beneath the blankets. Stevie stumbles over the blankets up towards her head, nuzzling up against the back of her neck. It’s a small comfort to him, knowing that she isn’t completely alone during the day, just enough reassurance for him to murmur a soft “I’ll be back soon, honey” and get up with a sigh. He takes one more look at her before closing the door behind him, no acknowledgement from her save for another deep sigh.

Things around town have gotten tense, to say the least. Word spread fast about what happened to Maura’s baby, and while it was clear that no one was to blame, just a horrible stroke of luck, it was a whole lot easier to blame the witch for what happened. Now, as Joel walks to the stables everyday, people openly stare at him, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear about how he’s “harboring the murderer.” The only thing that keeps him from knocking their lights out is knowing that it’d only make things worse for her.

People are being particularly vocal this morning, but he gets no relief when he gets to the stables either, seeing Mason and Matthew, Maura’s husband, are getting ready to saddle up for patrol.

“Don’t know why Maria’s letting her walk around free. Oughta be a trial for what she did.” Mason scoffs at Matthew’s words.

“You know why, that’s practically her sister-in-law, that’s why.” Mason’s eyes narrow into slits as Joel approaches them, Matthew’s face reflecting a similar sneer.

“You boys better watch what you say. Especially when it ain’t based in any reality.” 

“What do you know about reality, Miller? She’s got you so turned around I bet you believe just about anything she tells you.” Joel can feel anger rising like bile in his throat as he looks at the men, and he keeps his hands on his hips to stop himself from doing something he’ll regret.

“You saying you two are talking about reality? Some fucking story about her, what? Hexing a baby?” He focuses his attention on Matthew before continuing.

“Son, I’m sorry for your loss. I really am. But trying to blame someone for this– this horrible misfortune– it ain’t gonna make that pain go away.” Matthew lets out a bitter laugh at Joel’s words, his eyes flashing wild as he takes a few halting steps toward him.

“I’m not trying to do anything, Miller. I know she did it.” Joel would like to punch him in the teeth, but instead he scoffs at the man, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let’s just say for a minute that I’m living in the same delusional world that you are. How are you so sure that she did it, huh?” Matthew’s face stretches into a grin that doesn’t meet his bloodshot eyes at that.

“I know she did it– she did it to get back at me.” That makes Joel pause, and Matthew catches it, his grin splitting wider.

“She was jealous, you see. When I wouldn’t leave Maura for her, she got real upset. I guess she’s used to getting what she wants, but I’m a faithful man, and I wouldn’t look twice at that slu–” Joel doesn’t let him finish that sentence, grabbing him by his shoulders and driving him backward until his back slams against the wall of the stables.

“See, now I know you’re full of shit because she’s with me. She’s been with me all fucking summer, so I find your little story pretty hard to believe.”

“Not all the time.” Joel squints at him, keeping him pinned against the wall.

“Come again?”

“She wasn’t with you all the time, not during all her little house visits. Lemme tell you, Maura wasn’t the only one she was checking on.” He does it before he can think, his fist making contact squarely with Matthew’s jaw, the man groaning and doubling over, though Joel is quick to haul him up by his shirt collar.

“Listen to me, you keep my woman’s name out of your mouth. Do you understand me?” Matthew gives him no answer, his eyes squinting slits as Joel shoves him back against the wall. As he turns to leave, his eyes catch Mason’s, the man grinning as he watches the whole thing. The look makes Joel’s stomach twist, and it’s all he can do to walk away from the pair.

He doesn’t care that he’ll miss his shift. He needs to talk to her. Now.

Any patience, any gentleness, any carefulness has dissolved in his need to speak to her, and it clearly catches her by surprise when he comes barreling into her room, giving her shoulder a brusque squeeze that has her wide eyes looking up at him.

“Wha– I thought you were going to work.”

“We need to talk.”

“Joel, I’m really–”

“Tired. I know, but you can’t– I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I know that you’re hurting, but I need you here with me, or else I can’t, I can’t do anything to help.” She sits up at that, brow furrowed.

“What’re you talking about?” He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, glancing at Stevie who has curled up on the pillow next to her.

“There’s– talk, around town.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m aware.”

“That isn’t what I meant– I mean– Matthew, Maura’s husband– he’s saying that you–” She cuts him off with a bitter laugh. “No.” 

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“It’s always the same– they’re always the same– he’s telling people I tried to fuck him, isn’t he?” The blunt crassness of her words coupled with her still blank eyes is unnerving to him. Even now, her voice is flat, no emotion to be found in her cool assessment of him.

“Not in so many words. He said that you had reason to want to– get back at him.” 

“And you believe him? You believe that I’d be capable of something like that?”

“I don’t, and I’ll fight this, whatever this is. But I need you here fighting with me. I can’t do this without you– and I can’t keep watching you– disappear right in front of me.” Silence, a heavy pall of it falls between them as she continues to stare at him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Maybe they’re right.” It comes out so hoarse, he almost thinks he didn’t hear her right.

“What?” 

“Maybe it is my fault, somehow. Maybe I-I– somehow– I– it’s my fault, my fault, all my fault–” Before she can dissolve any further, he takes her face in his hands, holding her steady.

“Don’t go there, darlin. I know you don’t really believe that. Remember what you told me? About when you held her?” Her eyes widen at that, and he feels something like hope lift off in his chest when she nods.

“She was– she was so small, Joel. And it wasn’t right, it was too early– and I knew it.” “And you did everything you could, right?” Another nod, her eyes narrowing into something like focus.

“I-I did. I did. But, it just happened. It was too early, and– and I don’t think anyone could’ve done anything to change it.”

“That’s right. It just happened. Ain’t anyone’s fault. Don’t let them get into your head, darlin. You and I know the truth, and Ellie, and Tommy, and Maria, and– Stevie.” The cat, who had been dozing on her pillow, lifts her head at that, letting out a questioning mrrp. It isn’t much, but her lips twitch into what could become a smile, eventually. He’ll take it.

“I think I’d like to get a shower now.”

…

He could shout from the palpable relief he feels seeing her at the kitchen table, hair still damp from her shower, eating a plate of leftovers. It’s clear to him that she’s still not all there, still quiet, eyes endlessly downturned, movements slow and small. But she’s clean, she’s eating, and she’s even talking a little, and whatever has changed, Joel’s just glad that it did. He sits in the chair next to her, resisting the urge to stay as close to her as he can, afraid that she might float away if he doesn’t, but worried she’ll shut back down if he does. She sets her fork down and sits back in her chair, tilting her head to look at him, worry a perpetual crease between her brows.

“Could you come with me to the shop? I’d like to get a few of my things.” He nods, trying to keep his voice even when he responds, though inside he feels nothing but elation at her question.

“Of course, darlin. You just tell me when, and we’ll go.” 

“Could we– could we go now?” 

Though it caught him off guard, he scrambled to get them out the door before she changed her mind. He reckons it’s more for him than it is for her, the tight hold he keeps on her hand as they walk through town. For her part, she keeps her chin tilted down, eyes on each of her steps as they pass through the stream of stares and whispers. But she comes to a stuttering stop in front of the apothecary door, and Joel can’t help but smile.

“Dina and Ellie– they cleaned up the– mess. But it wouldn’t come all the way off, so they gave it a new coat of paint.�� What once had been a plain white door is now painted a deep green, though it’s beyond Joel how Ellie managed to find that color. For a moment, she’s completely still, considering the door before her. And then, she squeezes his hand, and he knows that these tears of hers are different, no despair to be found.

“I’ll have to thank them for this.” 

Ellie has also been going to the shop in the afternoons everyday, taking care of the plants in her absence, another thing that seems to surprise her when she enters the shop, what could be a smile threatening a quiver in her lips. But he swears that the green goes a bit greener, leaves stretching out and lifting as she walks amongst them, reverential fingers checking here and there. She collects a few bottles and tins, a few books, tucking them into her bag, before checking what she explains with a quiet murmur is soap, curing on the counter of the back room. There’s no ease about this for her, he can tell in her skittish movements, her eyes glancing around like she’s waiting for something to happen, and she’s ready to leave in a flash. He hates it, that the space in which he had first met her, the space in which she had always been so at peace, now conjures this kind of fear in her. 

They return home as quick as they left, and he can see just how much it took out of her, the heavy slump to her shoulders, the unfocused haze falling back over her eyes as she sits down on the couch in the living room, her bag still slung over one shoulder. She lets him take the bag from her, setting it down on the floor. He moves tentatively, letting out a quiet sigh when she lets him pull her into his side on the couch, his arm wrapping around her tight. 

Wordlessly, she leans back in his hold, and he’s stunned into stillness when she tilts her chin up and brushes her lips against his. 

“Thank you, Joel. For everything, for dealing with me through all this.” 

“I’m not dealing with you. I’m taking care of you, you don’t have to thank me for that.” She presses another kiss to his lips, though he stops her when she tries to deepen it, holding her by her shoulders.

“I don’t– don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Please, Joel– I just wanna feel something else for a little while. Just wanna feel you.” She presses a smattering of kisses to what skin she can get to beneath the collar of his shirt, and he sighs, already feeling himself dissolving under her touch. He knows this is probably a terrible idea, that whatever is going on in her head can’t possibly be good, but he also knows that whatever peace he can give her, he will in a heartbeat.

“Hey, hey, easy, darlin. Let’s go upstairs, alright? Lemme take care of you properly.” She lets him lead her upstairs, into his bedroom. She lets him lay her back on his bed, gentle and sweet as he undresses her. And she lets him take over when her trembling fingers fumble at the buttons of his shirt, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can to keep contact with her. 

There are no words for this, the way their hands move over each other’s bodies, getting reacquainted with bare skin they had each mapped so well. He settles between the plush of her thighs, pressing a kiss into the soft skin before finally tasting her. She’s an endless tide of sighs, writhing above him as he works her over with his tongue. Her pleasure is his privilege, and he collects every whimper, every scrunch of her brow, every tensed muscle, tokens of what he can do for his woman. He can’t help the way his hips rut into the mattress beneath him, chasing whatever sensation he can find as he takes in the sight of her, the feel of her beneath his mouth. When she comes, it’s an unraveling, a slow tumble that he holds her steady through, his arms wrapped around her hips to hold her up to his mouth as he coaxes her through her pleasure. The first word to leave her lips as she comes down is his name, a breathless plea to come closer that he answers in kind, crawling up the bed to hover over her, their lips catching in a desperate tangle. 

Broken groans resound from both of them when he presses his hips forward, a dizzy prickle skittering up his spine as he settles into the heat of her. He lets his lips drag wherever he can, over her collarbone, the arc of her neck, her jaw, giving her a moment, waiting for her word.

“I’m not going to break, Joel.” The tone of her voice, certain and steeled, makes him lean back to catch her gaze.

“I know that, darlin. I know you aren’t.” 

“Then don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I want you to fuck me.” Truthfully, he has been treating her as if at any moment she could shatter. But the way that she’s looking at him, the steady heat of her gaze, the tick of her jaw, the way her nails are grazing up and down his back makes him feel like she’s coming back to him, and something inside him snaps at the thought.

He gives her what she wants, a push and pull that has them both sighing with each press of his hips into hers. He wants to leave marks, to stamp something permanent of him into her, and with the harsh grind of his hips, the desperate graze of his teeth along her chest, he thinks he’ll be successful in his desires, drawing whimpers out of her with the force he fucks her with.

Neither of them are making much sense, words slurred into skin, frantic coaxing to see each over the edge. 

That’s it, darlin.

S’good, huh?

It’s all yours, honey. Go on, take it. 

When she comes again, it’s with a shattered yelp of his name, her fingers pressing little moons into his shoulder blades as she crashes around him. She’s a fucking vision beneath him, tears streaking silver down her cheeks, her face a twist of pleasure, sobs that sing sweet for a change, and it’s enough to send him spiraling after her. He only realizes he’s crying when he sees his own tears smudged against her sternum, his forehead pressed against her collarbone as he catches his breath.

He goes to get up and grab something to clean her up with, but she doesn’t let him get far, pulling him back down by his shoulders and holding him against her. 

“Can we just stay like this for a little while, please?” The sigh he lets out at her question melts him even further into her, his arms wrapping her up and pulling her into a closer tangle. They’re a mess, sweat-damp skin sticking slick and his spend dripping onto the sheets beneath them, but he reckons he needs this as much as she does, burying his face in the junction of her neck and inhaling her deeply. 

She relaxes in his arms, muscles going slack against his, her fingers trailing shapes across his shoulder blades. He feels like for the first time in ages, he’s got her, he’s really got her.

…

Ellie won’t stop staring at her. The kid had stopped dead in her tracks when she got home and saw her and Joel in the kitchen, quietly fixing dinner. Joel had quickly shook his head at her, a silent plea to not make a big deal out of it. But if there’s one thing Ellie is not, it’s subtle, and she’s been staring at her for most of the meal like she might disappear if she takes her eyes away from her. If it’s bothering her, however, she doesn’t show it, still a bit hazy around the edges as they eat, leaving Joel to muster up whatever conversation he can, which is to say that most of the meal is spent in slightly tense silence while Ellie continues to stare at her, much to his chagrin. 

“I want to thank you, Ellie. I got to see today how you’ve been taking care of the shop. I really appreciate it and– just, thank you, kid.” Ellie’s eyes widen at her words, before softening with an emphatic nod.

“Yeah– I mean, of course. You, like, taught me well, and stuff. And I want you to know, if anyone else tries to mess with you, I will personally fuck them up–”

“Ellie.” 

“What? I’m just saying, geez.” Ellie lets out a huff at Joel, while he’s about ready to give her another lecture about her language, though his annoyance dissolves when his woman lets out a light laugh at the girl’s exclamation.

“Thanks, kid, but I don’t want you fucking anyone up for me. That’s not gonna be necessary, alright?” Ellie gives her a sheepish smile at that, a light moment that relieves whatever tightness had been in the air. But just as soon as they all seem to slump back into ease, the sound of someone knocking on the front door echoes through the house.

Joel excuses himself, a wordless plea for her and Ellie to stay put. He’s admittedly surprised to see that it’s Maria standing on his porch, a steely look on her face and her hands on her hips.

“We have a problem.”

“That son of a bitch started it.”

“I don’t care who started it, Joel. I’m gonna finish it, all of it. I’ve called a town meeting for tomorrow night. This can’t keep going on. It’s— people are asking me questions that I can’t answer. And I know Mason is getting people more worked up the longer this goes on.”

“Maria, she’s— she’s not ready for this.”

“She’s gonna have to be. I’m worried, Joel. The longer we let people talk, the more out of hand this’ll get and— I wouldn’t put it past some of those men to—try something.” He feels a cool prickle shoot up the back of his neck at Maria’s words, his mind going back to the night of the dance, the way Mason had grabbed her, and he knows that Maria is right, that something needs to be done now before it escalates. 

“There are people on her side too, Joel. It’s just– there’s so much talk going around that everyone’s too afraid to say anything otherwise. If we can hear her side, I know people will come forward. But if she stays holed up like this, people are just gonna keep talking.” 

“You’re right, Maria.” He hadn’t been expecting it, the sound of her voice startling him as he turns to look at her padding up behind him. She places a firm palm between his shoulder blades, a presence, a confirmation.

“Just tell me what time tomorrow, and I’ll be there.”

...........................

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[lou-struck]

Spooky Spikes

Kotaro Bokuto x reader

Flufftober Day 3- Halloween Practice

~Bokuto is excited for you to come to his Halloween volleyball practice so he can show off the costume you gave him.

Warnings: Bare butt cheeks (No Smut I promise very SFW), Bokuto is taller and has a bigger butt than the reader, Cursing.

There’s something about the fall that makes your little kitchen coffee corner feel just a bit cozier. The warm scents of cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom fill your nose as you brew yourself a steaming cup of chai tea. The ceramic mug is warm in your hand as you grip the pumpkin-shaped handle. Carefully walking it over to the sun-soaked kitchen table, the large window giving you the perfect view of your neighbor’s old apple tree. The leaves are just beginning to change from deep green to a crisp yellow around the slightly pathetic-looking fruits.

You raise the cup to your lips, letting your eyes flutter shut as you breathe in what can only be described as ‘Liquid Autumn.’ Blowing slightly on the wisps of steam to take your first sip. You hear a loud thudding sound coming from down the hall and pause. 

Usually, you would be concerned and follow the noise, but you live with your lovingly klutzy boyfriend Kotaro Bokuto. The Volleyball player has never been the quietest in the morning when he is getting ready for morning practice.

“Babeeee, I need help.” his boisterous voice calls from behind you, the sound causing you to jolt as a bit of your tea splatters over the lip of the cup, down your hand, and onto the previously clean tabletop.

“Kou, what do you need ~” You turn your head mid-sentence and lose your train of thought when you see the tall form of your boyfriend. But instead of his defined muscles and owlish two-toned hair, all you see is a long white sheet draped over him; the only thing you are able to see of him behind the sheet is bare feet that poke out from .” What the hell are you wearing?” 

“Boo!” he yells, too elated to answer your question, the happy yet slightly muffled sounds bouncing off the walls and throwing his sheet-covered arms up into the air. “Did I scare ya? I can’t see very well in this thing, so you’ll have to tell me what you think of my costume.”

Oh, right. Today is the MSBY Jackals’ annual Halloween practice. It’s just like any other practice, but the players get to wear some costumes as they play. Judging by your lovable boyfriend’s costume, he has forgotten that he actually needs to be able to play in his costume.

“Are you going as a ghost?” You ask, gently pulling up the sheet to reveal his thick gray eyebrows, pinkish cheeks, and ruffled two-toned hair. It must be pretty hot under there.

“Yeah, pretty iconic, don’t you think?” he winks, leaning in to give you a minty fresh kiss. “It’s a bit hard to see, though. Can you help me make some eye holes?” he asks, reaching a muscled arm just past you over to the knife block. Your stomach drops at the continuation he is making when he grabs your well-loved kitchen scissors.

“Babe, these are our good sheets.” you giggle, gently prying the kitchen scissors from his much larger hands. “We can’t just cut holes into them. And you are definitely not going to be able to play volleyball in that thing. You can’t even lift your arms to Spike.”

His features fall in the most heartbreaking way as he looks down at the linen sheet, mourning the loss of his Halloween costume idea. “But that was my big plan. I thought of it the other day when one of the trainers said that my spikes were scary.” His golden gaze drifts to the glowing green numbers on the stovetop. “Shoot, Practice starts in an hour and I don’t have another costume. What do I do?”

You place a comforting hand on his bicep and give him a reassuring smile. “We still have time to think of something for you, what did you wear last year? I don’t remember you telling me.” 

“I-I can’t tell you that,” he says quickly, his large hand coming up to hide the rapidly spreading blush on his cheeks; it’s too embarrassing to talk about.”

“But not embarrassing enough to not wear it to the gym surrounded by at least twenty people?” 

He still shakes his head adamantly. “I don’t have that costume anymore, we gotta think of something else.”

You furrow your brow in thought, 

“Wait, come with me; I think I have an idea.” You smile, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway eagerly. The still pristine bedsheet flows behind the two of you. 

In the back of your closet lies a clear plastic tub filled with old costumes and pieces from years past. You dig through the animal masks and wizard robes until you find what you are looking for. Your old Skeleton costume consists of an oversized black t-shirt and a pair of leggings; a realistic skeletal system print covers the entire thing. 

“Would these work?” you ask, holding up the pieces for him to take. The costume was baggy on you, but the stretchy material means that it most likely could fit your much taller, much more beefy boyfriend. 

His eyes light up when he sees the costume, and nods eagerly. “This will be great. I can actually play in these. He picks you up easily and spins you around the cramped closet space. “You’re so amazing Y/n. Where would I be without you?”

“ single and costumeless.” You giggle, returning his bear hug with as much strength as you can muster. “Wait, hang on,” you place your hands on his shoulders as you are hit with your second moment of brilliance that morning. “I think I have some face paint underneath the sink.”

~

After buying you a fresh tea to replace the one you hadn’t gotten to enjoy earlier, Kotaro insisted on dragging you to practice with him so you can see just how awesome his costume looks in comparison to his other teammates.

As the nosy little thing you are, it didn’t take much persuading to come with him. The scent of icy hot reaches your nose as the two of you pass the athletic training room where a few players are getting taped for today’s session. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna wear your shorts over the leggings? “You ask, noticing just how tight the leggings are on his muscled bottom.

“No, I don’t need it,” he says, looking down and giving his butt a playful little smack. “It would ruin the vibe of my Amazing costume.”

“I can’t argue with that,” you giggle as he dances towards the sound of volleyball. He certainly is the happiest volleyball-playing skeleton you’ve ever seen. 

“Okay, babe, wish me luck.” Kotaro grins, stopping just outside the gymnasium doors, leaning in towards you with his now skeletal-painted lips puckered. 

You place your hand on his chest and push him back lightly, “Wait, you don’t want to mess up your face paint. You say quickly, noticing the puppy dog eyes he is giving you. 

“I don’t care about that if it means I don’t get a kiss,” he says with a pout, crossing his arms in usual Bokuto fashion. He is already leaning in for your kiss. He knows just how effective his pouty face is on you.

“Good luck,” you smile, leaning in on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. 

He is so happy he practically skips into the gym, pushing open the doors and waving to you one more time before he goes to work.

Now alone, you turn away from the sound of squeaking shoes and spikes to walk up the steps to the upper bleachers, where certain spectators are allowed to watch without distracting the players.

You are now looking over the whole court and see the dozens of players scattered around as practice begins. Costume-wise, it looks like the majority of the players are wearing masks of some sort, making it hard to tell who is who. But eventually, you do see familiar faces.

The blond head of Atsumu Miya grabs your attention as he takes his place by the net, a long, flowing red and black vampire cape tied behind his neck. And judging by how muffled his on-the-court communication is, he must be wearing some of those cheap vampire fangs as well.

Shoyo Hinata Is wearing all black with a large pair of black feathered wings tethered to his back with little elastic strings. They flap clumsily as they fail to keep up with the redhead’s speed as he runs about the court with boundless energy. 

The Third Person you are able to make out is Sakusa Kiyoomi, a true master of disguise. He is wearing his normal practice clothes and really looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The only thing out of place on his clean frame is the hastily stuck red and white name tag that sits crookedly on his chest.

With those great options to compete with, you can safely say that Bokuto’s costume is by far the best. You watch as the team tries to play. Atsumu keeps tripping over his cape when he jumps, and Little feathers from Hinata’s wings keep littering the court as he bounds around, and the other players keep having to take off their rubber monster masks to breathe and truly look miserable. It keeps you thoroughly entertained throughout the training session. 

In between sets in their practice scrimmage, Bokuto and a few others end up by your bench, and you’re able to hear a little bit of your boyfriend’s not-so-quiet conversation.

“Omi, do you like my faceeee?” He gushes, pointing to his slightly sweaty face paint. “Y/n did it this morning; Arent they sooooo amazing.”

His honest declarations of his love for you are one of the many reasons why you love him. He effortlessly brings a smile to your lips as he continues to show off his painted face. The design really wasn’t that difficult to make. You just looked up a quick tutorial of how to do it online earlier and were able to copy it fairly well.

“No fair,” Hinata whines, coming over to look at the carefully painted design you made. He looks up at you and waves with a big grin. “Hey Y/n, can you paint my face next year too?”

“I guess I can,” you call back to him. “I’m not a professional or anything so I~”

“Helloooo? Your boyfriends jealousy interrupts, waving his hand in front of the shorter man’s face, “They’re mine, getting my face painted by them is a Boyfriend perk.” 

“Oh shoot, is that a thing?” The ginger responds with wide eyes as the two of them finish their water break and jog back onto the court. 

“Watch me, Babe,” he calls, trying to shoot you a wink as he takes his place by the net. The ball is set, and you watch as Bokuto begins his approach; the ball is set high over the net as the owl-haired man leaps for it. Soaring high above the double block in his way, he brings his hand down onto the poor volleyball with a frightening force. The ball hits the ground and bounces off in the opposite direction.

But Bokuto’s kill is robbed of any kind of celebration because the minute his powerful legs land on solid ground, the impact causes those little skeleton-printed leggings of yours to rippppp right down the middle, revealing two things to you and the rest of the gym as a deafening silence falls all around you.

One, Kotaro Bokuto was not wearing any underwear underneath your now-ruined leggings.

And Two, his muscular ass cheeks.

He feels the breeziness down below and looks at you with wide eyes, clearly too stunned to speak, or move, or cover up. 

You are in the same boat as him as your jaw hits the floor and your eyes go right to the rip.

As you are captivated by the scene in front of you, no one else says a word. Some are too fixated on Kotaro’s bare ass cheeks that seem to shine under the fluorescent lights of the stadium, and others are wondering where the hell the volleyball he spiked went off to

A player in a rubbery haunted pumpkin mask steps forward, his footsteps echoing across the silent gymnasium, breaking the silence. His hand flies up to take off the mask, revealing a head of slicked-back black hair. 

Captain Shūgo Meian sighs, Looking completely done as he tosses your poor boyfriend a towel to cover the rip as he speaks. “Bokuto, while this situation is uhhh… unfortunate. It is still not nearly as bad as what happened last year.” 

Tagging: @eussstasss @enchantedforest-network

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER FIFTEEN)

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: "..Soldier on, Achilles."

Amnesia is the loss of memory. It can inhibits the formation of new memories and/or the recollection of old ones. Several regions of the brain are involved in the process of memory including the amygdala, hippocampus, cerebellum, and prefrontal cortex. Damage to one or more of these areas can often result in post-traumatic amnesia.

Shizuko sat still, Legs closed and basketed at the end of the table.

The dark spots of his eyes remained enthralled upon the udon bowl before him, Unwavering as he watched the liquid residue of the noodle inside reflect the lights of the small dining room he sat in.

It was like watching fish make ripples in a pond. A quirk on his lips and a scrunch of his face, Tongue bit. He didn't even dare to pick up the lone pair of chopsticks sat beside the bowl, Seemingly went unnoticed by the boy.

Neither did the dim interior of the room, Where the sunlight of the brisk morning just didn't reach the small room. Only spits of radiance shining through the perfect square grid shoji-walls, No thin paper to let the sun from the surrounded garden shine in.

Despite the lack of light, Shizuko scrutinized the Tupperware, Scowling at the meal inside.

"Seriously, What the hell is that thinking face? You're lookin' at your udon like it offended you personally, Aren't you gonna eat it?"

Shizuko jerked his head up at the brash jest coming from across the table. Wide, Owlish eyes glaring back at Genya who spoke them.

Suddenly snapping back into reality, Registering the small dining room that they were located in.

"Mind your business. I'll eat it on my own time, You just focus on yours." Shizuko retorted, Quickly and despondent as he vaguely gestured towards Genya's own majority-eaten portion of Udon.

Shizuko swiftly retracted his hand afterwards, Defiantly tossing his head to the side to stare off somewhere else within the room. Anywhere but at him, Shizuko had better things to think about right now.

Genya's eyes narrowed, The pair of chopsticks entwined between his rough fingers lowered, Dropping into the bowl.

"..You're thinking about what happened back at the old Kakushi Base, Aren't you?" He asked, Knowing the answer not with words but by the way Shizuko snapped his eyes back over to his.

They widened like saucers, Accusatory in stance as he tried to keep his cool.

"Wow, Detective. How'd you figure that one out?" Shizuko retorted, Finally plucking the chopsticks from beside his bowl and scooping up the udon noodle inside. The woollen gloves hugging his hand being the only thing stopping from puking up at the touch.

Genya and Shizuko, The two renowned Tsuguko of Gyomei Himejima. Constantly in competition and combat with each other, Sparring or spat used interchangeably. Ever since they were both younger and in the care of their master, It had been that way.

So with all the time they had been together there was no question that Genya would be able to tell when Shizuko's off, Especially if it had been happening for a few months. Ever since that day in the billowing mountainside, Shizuko had just been.. Strange.

The ticking of his eye tocked a little more often, His sensitive fingertips were just a little more potent. He woke up just a little later, Sloppier when it came to training.

Genya could tell that it irked him.

"Whatever, I'm just saying that it's been months since it happened. I mean, I'm still pissed about it too but I mean.. Come on, Man." He scoffed, Rolling his eyes as he finally tossed down his chopsticks into the finished bowl, Only pungent residue remaining within the ceramic.

The other boy however paused the movements of his own chopsticks, Just before the udon noodle touched his lips.

"It's not like you could understand, You weren't there! You were stuck helping out on evacuations!" Shizuko scowled as he lowered his hand, Troubled face even more gnarly with that expression on his face.

Genya lowered a brow.

"Oh, You're going on about your fight with Upper Six." He said, Starting to sort his used Tupperware into a neat pile. "..You know, Neither you or Himejima-sensei has spoke about it. What did go down there..?"

Genya's follow on was much quieter than his starting statement, Dark eyes honing on Shizuko with a sharp glint. Since the Shrine Invasion neither Shizuko or Gyomei had talked about their brawl with the Uppermoon.

Not a lick or lisp of the event, A seemingly wordless agreement between the two to keep it under wraps. Genya couldn't deny he was curious. Especially since it was the catalyst for his allies discomfort.

Shizuko's lips pursed together, Thinning along with his eyes starting to wander off in what seemed to be thought.

The grip on his chopsticks tightened, Almost snapping them in half.

"..Upper Six, He was.. He was my friend.. Ne, Someone I was raised with and someone I use to consider my brother.." Shizuko whispered, His voice almost a brush in the air or a prayer amongst thousands.

His eyes focused on nothing, Nothing except the blizzard and the electric blue that chased it. Almost possessed, His gloved hand twitched and moved on its own, Covered fingertips raising to near graze his forehead under the mess of his curls.

They were shaking, His fingers. Even more once they brushed against his skin.

"He's.. He's the reason I had my accident, The reason I.. The reason I can't remember anything." His fingers entangled within the wilderness of his hair, Swiftly wrangling back his curls to reveal his forehead.

Large, Swollen and horribly malformed were only the first few words that came to mind. A massive scar where a gash had for no doubt once lain, Shaped like a star and mis-coloured from the rest of his skin, It was hideous and most seemingly painful.

Genya's eyes went ajar. The scar he was aware of through missed strikes of a training sword or a stray gust of wind, All accidents that were quickly covered up.

But now..?

Gloved fingers grasped at the scar on his forehead, Ever so slightly tighter and so absent-mindedly that the disgust of the sensation was forgotten in the moment, Along with the memories of how the scar appeared.

The only thing he recalled from that night was the emotion he felt. Betrayal, Terror and agonising pain. His head bashing against the far wall, Ichor bursting from the wound and the blood loss flowing out along with his memory lost.

That, And his face.

His childhood, Everything before he had came to the old monastery was gone like a drop in the sea. Forgotten in the waves of time, The only thing he remembered..

That touch, That warm touch..

It was divine.

"..I'm sorry." Genya finally spoke up, Much more serious in tone as he looked at him in shock. "I shouldn't of brought it up. Just forget I said anything.."

Shizuko sighed, Hand finally relenting from his forehead as the nauseating feeling of touch returned to him.

"No, You're right. Ngh.. I shouldn't be caught up in it, It's not like Kaigaku means anything to me anymore. He's dead in my eyes, Left us and became a demon.." Shizuko mumbled as he finally returned the udon to his lips, Starting to chew.

Genya shuffled on his knees, Now uncomfortable as the silence returned. The sounds of the early day and the chirp of the crickets in the square garden outside was no longer a comfort, Nor the birds warble in the trees, Just unsettled now.

Shizuko frowned, Sipping up the noodle into his mouth.

"Ne.. Either way, I have another demon to replace him." Shizuko chewed, Now directly gesturing to Genya with his chopsticks. Sly and sarcastic grin spreading his face, Watching as Genya's jaw dropped.

"Eh..?! Oh come on, I thought we were having a good moment there!" Genya exclaimed, A weathered fist slamming down onto the table which made the Tupperware atop shake and clatter together.

Shizuko however, Wasn't as startled as the dishes.

"Why, What's wrong? I'm just stating the obvious here, It's not my fault you're a demon muncher." Shizuko replied with an ever-smug grin on his face to which Genya scoffed at.

"It's not my fault you've got a girls name!" Genya retorted, Scrunch in his nose.

"Hey! It's not mine either, You think I wanted this name? What shitty caregiver I had must've hated me.." Shizuko muttered now with a slight tick to the smugness in his grin, Afterwards tossing the chopsticks onto the table and cupping the bowl to bring it to his lips.

Genya huffed.

"Must have, Though to be fair who wouldn't take one look at you and feel unbearable disgust." He jested, Trying to lighten the mood yet it seemed too heavy to be lifted as Shizuko didn't jab back.

A bad sign, Written in the boldest of inks.

Genya's smile lowered as he lowered his head along with Shizuko's, Awkward tension filling the air now. Shizuko tilted his head upwards towards the wood-panel ceiling, Bowl raising as he felt the savoury liquids enter his mouth.

He took a moment, Leftover toppings of broken seaweed and tofu chunks to chase it. It flooded onto his tongue until there was nothing but running droplets in the ceramic, Shizuko slammed it down with an audible clank!

Shizuko wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his clover-coloured kimono.

"Ngh.. Done." He breathed, Throwing a hand onto the tatami floor (Making sure it was just the start of his palm, Not his fingertips) to push himself up. "..I think I need to go take a walk in the garden for a bit.. I need to clear my head."

Genya blinked.

"Hey.. I didn't actually upset you, Right? You know I didn't mean that, Just said it to piss you off is all.." He admitted as he watched Shizuko get to his feet, Shake his hair until it was in an acceptable position and turn away.

"Ne, I know. I'm just not feeling well, Training from earlier really got to me is all.." Shizuko replied, Not turning back to Genya who still sat though a little more disgruntled than he was before.

He could only watch as his ally dragged his feet over to the sliding door. With practice, Using his elbow to push it open. Shizuko didn't look back at Genya and Genya knew that it wasn't what he said that irked him so.

It was still the Shrine Incident.

Genya wanted to know what really was up with him, But he wasn't exactly the right person to deal with it. He wasn't there, He didn't know his past with the new Upper Six, Nor was he there when he had his accident.

It was best that he stayed out of it, For now at least. Genya picked up the finished dishes, Cupping the Tupperware in his hands and not even getting annoyed at the ones Shizuko had left for him, He had other things to think about.

Genya just hoped Shizuko would search out the man who could cater to his worries. He sighed as he opened the adjacent door the the one Shizuko left from, Carefully balancing the ceramic in his hands, He started to march towards the kitchen.

☆♡☆

"There.. It seems to be all healed now.."

The ever-dim darkness of the false shrine was finally broken by the faint light of a rusty lantern, The amber light flickered against the decaying walls like the ember inside. It sat on her bedside, Right next to the eaten bowl of udon licked clean.

As ever, The infinity castle was cold. But even more so against the bareness of [F/N]'s skin, Her mid-section once kept warm and bound by bandages was now naked, The garments laying in a scarf-like heap on the old floors.

She felt down her stomach where the stitches once were, That life-threatening gash that near took her like and most certainly put her in a weeks long coma. It was a miracle that she was still alive, That she had came out of it without any chronic debility.

So much so that there wasn't even a scar..

"I see.." [F/N] whispered as she laid her cold palm on her equally cold stomach, Shivering in the brisk air, Hair on her nape standing up. A strange sensation as her time was mostly spent within the cold peaks of her Shrine.

Her eyes were focused entirely on her gut, An uneasy-wonder as she looked at the scratch-less skin.

Kokushibo stood only a few metres away from her, The reason the chill had affected her so much in the first place. Her muscles still tense from his presence, That and the fact that she had barely anything on apart from a Koshimaki and a thinnish layer of bandages she had used a chest cover.

His eyes, Six glowing eyes that were even brighter than the faint spark of the lantern-light beside him. They examined her, Her injury or lack-there-of especially. He just stood there silently, Not moving a muscle facial or otherwise.

She knew very well that he wouldn't try anything, No, Whatever obsession he had with her was never like that. But it still made her feel vulnerable and easy to attack. An instinct from her childhood days.

Never leave yourself defenceless..

"..Do you mind if you just.. Leave the room while I change?" [F/N] exasperated, Headache brewing in her mind both from the current situation and what happened yesterday. "No offense, Kokushibo-sama.. But it's just disturbing when you stand there like that.."

Kokushibo's lip twitched, Only a tick.

"..We will be heading off to do your daily training straight after, There would be no point in me leaving.. Either way, It isn't anything I haven't seen before.." Kokushibo replied, Stone-faced and stoic as his voice rumbled in the room.

[F/N] swallowed, Disgust running on her tongue and sweat dripping down her neck yet it hadn't even gotten to the sparring part yet.

"..Right" [F/N] gulped, Swallowing down the nauseating distain pooling and festering in her mouth. "Then if you could just turn around that would be fine, I'd.. I'd just prefer if you weren't watching.."

As soon as the words left her lips, Drifted into the frozen air of the room she had waited for him to turn.

But he didn't.

Kokushibo continued to stand there, Stiller than she was as she waited for him to look away. But instead all six of his eyes continued to linger on her, Wandering away from her injury to her side, Sickly golden slits narrowing.

Had she done something wrong? Was there something she had somehow let out on her persons? What was he looking at..?!

Kokushibo hummed, A single step towards her that sounded like exploding rocks made her repress the urge to back away. His hand reached out, Slow like a knife preparing to cut. Talons and all as they grazed her side.

A burning pain shot through her side, [F/N]'s muscles tensed up.

"I wonder.. How did you get an injury like this?" Kokushibo drawled as he examined the bruised skin, Slightly tugging her around so he could get a better look at where Akaza had jabbed into her.

Her saving shot, Or whatever it would be called, The one where he broke his vow to hurt a woman but aided her all the while.

[F/N] would've rolled her eyes if it wasn't for the ice currently running through her blood.

"It's.." [F/N] directed her eyes away from Kokushibo, Tounging at the side of her mouth to try and come up with some explanation she could tell him.

Tell him that she tried to commit suicide? Her captor of all people? [F/N] still felt a deep regret burning in her for telling Akaza, Her state of mind warped back then, She wished she had just kept her mouth shut.

So there was no way that she would ever tell Kokushibo. Not like he "sympathised" with her or whatever, Not like he still had some inkling of humanity in him unlike Akaza.

No, He was just a monster.

"You still haven't told me how you injured your wrist.. Is there something you aren't telling me?" Kokushibo mumbled as his eyes snapped over to her bandaged hand, The injury she had caused when she had punched a wall into the shrine's structure.

His gaze sharpened.

"..I do hope that my Tsuguko hasn't garnered any.. Distasteful feelings for your prescence here again. Tell me, How did you gain these injuries..?" Kokushibo lowered himself so that his eyes met with hers, Stabbing, Piercing into her.

Her lips thinned.

"..I tripped down the stairs, Hit my side and my fist at the same time. You know, Kokushibo-sama, You should see to getting some kind of banister lining them.. This isn't the first time I near fell down them.." [F/N] responded, Snake's tongue speaking quick and somewhat formal yet she still refused to look at him.

Though for some reason, The lies she use to taste didn't come so sour anymore.

"..Ah, So my comment about your footwork wasn't taken to heart then.." Kokushibo remarked, Referencing his constant jabs at her apparently flawed "footwork". He retracted his hands, And [F/N] tried not to scrunch her nose up.

Was he trying to make some kind of joke?

[F/N] just silently stared at the floor, Almost waiting for his next move as he stepped back away from her. The air much more thick, The consistency of tar. She didn't laugh, Neither did Kokushibo as he continued to stare dead at her.

[F/N] kept her eyes on the floorboards, Not looking up at him. Kokushibo breathed out.

"..Go get ready. It is time for you to test your strength once more.." He spoke, Stepping back just a little further, Feeling the depression of the floorboards move away to the other side of the room.

[F/N] sighed, Shivering once more within the nipping atmosphere of the Shrine. Shaking off the still aching bruise on her side, She scoffed once she realised Kokushibo had turned his back to her, Giving her some semblance of privacy.

Sparring, Even though he knew she was injured. [F/N] stumbled over to the closet not even a metre away. Kokushibo didn't even bat a single eye, And he had many. [F/N] asked herself why he even wanted to clash swords with her.

He knew she was strong, She fought against him a few months ago as a formidable opponent. [F/N] fished out her old samue set, The one she used often to train in. Now she had been turned into nothing but a caged animal to be poked with by sticks.

He didn't need to test her strength, She was cursed with it. [F/N] was the one who killed a thousand of his kind, The one who gave him a run for his own money, The one who fought Upper Three barehand on this very roof for fuck-sakes!

Maybe he liked torturing her, That was it.

[F/N] pulled the trouser half of the samue up from her ankles to her waist, Slipped her arms through the loose-fabric sleeves. She folded it over her, Set it in place. Making sure everything was fine, She dusted it off.

It wasn't like she didn't deserve the beat-downs, It's not like she didn't want him to go too far one day. She deserved it after all, The blood of hundreds still ran down her. It's why she couldn't bare to look in the mirror, To catch a glimpse of that red.

She strained her eyes away even now, Much preferring to turn back to Kokushibo and tell him that she was done. Kokushibo cocked his head to the side, Examining her up and down before he wordlessly stepped out of the door.

[F/N] didn't need words to understand he wanted her to follow, She did soundlessly, Just wanting to get this over with.

☆♡☆

The light filtered through the diamond-like holes in the walls, A designed pattern meant to illuminate the estate during the day.

The air was cool, Not the kind on a summers day but instead the faint chill of a golden hour autumn. A strong wind to blow through the hair and fabric of anyone caught in it. It was strange since it was the middle of spring, But the mix of both leaving summer heat and oncoming winter cold made it feel like it was much later in the year than it actually was.

Shizuko stumbled through the hallways, Wooden floorboards depressing under his minimum weight. He had traversed the rather linear hallways thousands of times, Yet he felt lost in his gait, A direction unknown.

He gazed towards the gardens, Barely lifting his head to catch glimpses of the carefully trimmed bushes and miniature lakes within. It was surrounded by the rest of Himejima's estate, A sort of plaza kept safe in the squared layout of the house.

He watched the water of the tiny stream trickle along the garden, Watched as the carefully made buddha statues held the aqua in their palms and guided it on their course. The reeds and the rye-grass all a vibrant green.

Shizuko sighed, Scrunching up his face. Genya bringing up his incident with Upper Six seemed to make him much more irked than he had previously thought. Now some weight was placed upon his chest, Now some throb came through the abrasion on his head.

The faraway aria of the birds wasn't anything that could calm him, Not right now. Nor the crickets chirp or the trickle of stream, Everything was just so.. Numbing now. It made him grimace as he paced the halls.

His memory was perfect. If you picked out a date, Any year, Any month, Any day. He could tell you exactly what he did as if it was written out plain as day. What he ate for breakfast, A word for word recite of the conversation he had with his master, Or even how many birds flew past him that day.

But he couldn't remember that.

Ever since his head was cut and mauled, He couldn't recall a single day before then. He might as well have just appeared one day. Everything before then was just a blur, Just one hot mess.

Except.. For that one feeling. The one that he felt on his hands as if it was yesterday, The only touch he could ever tolerate, Or even yearn for. It felt otherworldly, Comforting. That person of muddled face was like a god themselves, Elusive and unobtainable.

Shizuko wanted to know who they were, Who that person really was. But Shizuko didn't know who, Or where to even start looking. His master hadn't known either, Just recalling he had been left at their doorstep one day.

His master.

Shizuko stopped in his walk, A stumbled halt as he finally pulled his head over to the door beside him.

It was his master's private room he had built to pray in, The one always shadowed by the dark and candle-light was shown like stars in the night. Shizuko paused as he looked at the door, Faintly hearing the chants of sutras inside.

He was there, His master was inside.

Shizuko made an effort to be quiet, Careful not to step on any of the floorboards he knew would creak. He steadied himself on the doorframe, Leaning over so he could peer through the crack in the door.

And there he was, In all of his glory.

Shizuko could only see the back of his saturated-lime haori, The one emboldened with kanji. He saw his prayer beads and heard the faint clacking of them hitting each other, The sutra's also getting much louder.

Shizuko debated whether he should knock or not, Whether he should disturb him as he prayed at the candle-lit altar. Gyomei probably didn't want to talk about it, Hell, Shizuko didn't want to either-

"..You can come in."

Shizuko's eyes widened, Just now realising the sound of the beads clacking and his sutra's had went silent.

Gyomei turned his head to the side, And even though he was blind, Shizuko could swear that he was staring right into him with those white-out eyes. Gyomei waited, Shizuko barely snapped out of it before he answered.

"..R-Right, Sir." Shizuko stammered as he pushed open the door, Bowing down low in a sign of respect before stepping in. Gyomei turned around on his knees, Facing him now with his hands still together in prayer.

Shizuko closed the door only slightly behind him, The darkness becoming all the more present as he stood there awkwardly in front of his master.

He sighed.

"..I'm sorry for bothering you during your prayer, Himejima-sensei." Shizuko started, Formal in tone as he bowed once more to the man. "I just wanted to talk to you is all. I.. I have a lot of stuff on my mind right now."

The beads surrounding Gyomei's hands chattered together, Gyomei seeming to take in his words.

"I see.. Then please, Let me ask what bothers you so.. It would not be wise to keep it to yourself.." Gyomei advised in his ever-solemn tone, Bowing down slightly before gesturing him to sit down.

Shizuko nodded and took his offer, Hurrying over to the empty spot in front of the man and sitting himself down neatly atop it.

After settling down and the curls of hair were parted from his eyes, He took a moment for himself. Still hearing the crackle of the candle fire in the back, He listened to it for only a second as if trying to find the words to say.

"Begin whenever you like.." Gyomei assured, Nodding once in encouragement to his Tsuguko.

Shizuko sighed.

"Thank you.. It's just I've been thinking a lot lately, You know.. About the night at the Kakushi Base?" He explained, Slightly hesitant as he eyed the older man for his reaction.

Gyomei's frown deepened, Sharpening as the soft clacking of the beads started to pick up. Shizuko deflated, Knowing he had stricken a cord somewhere.

"..Ah, Yes.. I suppose I should have known that we would have this conversation one day, In fact.. I believe I even might have been expecting it ever since that accursed day in the snow.." Gyomei admitted, Slowly nodding to his words.

Shizuko bit his lip, Vision seemingly elsewhere as he tried to hold back the spill of words.

"I-I mean.. Kaigaku.. How could he do something like this? How could he become the thing that killed our family, My siblings..! Did we just not matter to him?" Shizuko scoffed. "Of course we dont.. How could I say that he gives a shit when he went and became a people-eater?"

Shizuko muttered, Suddenly forgetting his manners as he spoke. Knuckles near popping as he gripped the hems of his green haori, Near ripping the fabric in two at the memory. Gyomei hummed, Brows furrowing.

"Kaigaku has always been troubled.. He stole, He thieved and he robbed.. But he always did it for the sake of us, Shizuko. Kaigaku has become undesirable and an enemy to the corps. But I admit.. I do have blame to take for the way he has turned out." Gyomei spoke, Growing much softer.

Shizuko finally looked up at the man, Staring him dead in the face. Disbelieving as he shook his head, Barely hiding a scoff.

"Ne, Kaigaku was always a rat.. You had no part to play in it, Sensei. He deceived us, He lied to us, He used us for money! He.." Shizuko croaked, Teeth starting to bare as he resisted the urge to grasp his head. "H-He let that demon maul my face.."

Gyomei's lips thinned as he listened on to his Tsuguko's words, Hearing as his talk start to become a rant.

"..I understand, That night was the worst one of your entire life.. And it was mine too. When I laid my fists upon the demon that killed my kids, When I found out of what Kaigaku had done.. I felt rage, I felt anger at everything that denounced my Buddhist vows, I felt rage towards Kaigaku and his ignorant actions.." Tears now started to flood faster down his cheeks, Hot as they dripped onto his hands of prayer.

His frown sharpened.

"But looking back, I know I should have discouraged that boy.. I had chose to forget of his thieving actions because we needed the money. I knew he was troubled and chose to ignore it.. It is my fault that he turned out as such." Gyomei finished, The sorrow in his voice much more potent.

Shizuko couldn't supress a sneer anymore.

"..Every time I bring him up, You always take blame for his actions! You keep saying that he was just troubled- Why can't you just accept that he's a monster? Both now and then?!" Shizuko spat, Pushing himself up to the floor now with a single hand.

Gyomei turned his head up towards where he had stood, Proceeding to follow him up to the floor as he got onto his feet, Easily overshadowing the boy before him. Shizuko

He knew he had to diffuse this quickly.

"Shizuko, It's a complicated an-"

"I DON'T WANT ANOTHER EXCUSE!" Shizuko finally whipped his head to look up at him with angry eyes, He was pissed, Knuckles near popping as he tried to get up in the face of the admittedly taller man. Shizuko seethed.

"I don't want some stupid explanation as for why Kaigaku was just troubled! Or- Or- Deserving of sympathy! E-Even back then you refused to kill him, Even though he's a demon!" Shizuko cried, Starting to stumble over his words as he bared his teeth at his master.

"I-Isn't that what you keep harping about? Our duty as a demon slayer being to kill every last one? Not to rest until you do?" Shizuko reiterated, Shaking his head as he approached him "Y-You could've just killed him back in the snow, But you didn't.."

"I couldn't kill one of my kids.. Shizuko. Not you nor Kaigaku, No matter how far he may have fallen.." Gyomei lamented, Shaking his head. "You know how much it pains me to kill.. To go against my vows as a monk."

"So what?! He's a demon now, Not a human being! You said it yourself, You insulted him too!" The younger jabbed, Incredulous, Looking at the man with ire and confused anger.

Shizuko stepped back, Looking at the man he admired with such unfound before disgust. What respect was usually given was held back now, Only giving venomous looks that Gyomei could only feel burning into him.

Kaigaku, The person now demon that was the reason his family was dead, Why that monster mutilated his face. Why couldn't his master understand that? That he should be just as angry as he was.

Gyomei on the other hand, He had foresaw this coming, He had for months. He knew that this talk had to happen eventually and thus kept himself calm, Not a muscle tensed or ticked.

He tried to reach out a hand, To place on Shizuko's shoulder.

"-I said it so you could get behind him without him noticing." Gyomei corrected "..I feel rage at the boy, I promise you that I do.. But I should not let it get the better of me, Not like it did back on that horrid day.." Gyomei deplored. And if Shizuko looked close, He could see his hands-in-prayer start to shake.

The feeling of fists on flesh, Beating the bloody pulp of that demon into the ground until the sun hit his face. It was gorey, The feeling of hot blood spurting out onto his knuckles. He had never felt so fallen from grace before, Not before he truly found out how strong he was.

Even now he felt the blood trickle down his fingers just like it was yesterday, Like it was still there..

But now he felt Shizuko slap away the hand he offered him, Consumed by the moment and his enraged heart. Gyomei could only feel sorrow for the boy as he continued.

"Y-You keep saying stuff you don't mean, It wasn't even just at the shrine! You.. Why can't you just understand that he's the reason that our family is dead..! H-He's the reason that I lost my memories.. He's.." Shizuko's rage, The one that spilled out in rage started to turn out in tears.

They started to speckle his eyes, His mouth growing more humid by the moment as his lungs started to burn.

His face was still snarled, The candles embers still burning bright even as they flickered. The darkness of the room barely covered the anguish behind his voice.

"Y-You don't even know where the hell I came from..!" Shizuko mourned, Voice wheezing and choking from his throat. The tears in his eyes started to build, Boiling like a pot, Stinging him.

Gyomei sighed, Stepping towards him.

"Please just-!" Shizuko stammered, His voice dying down to a near whisper before the tears finally spilled over his eyes.

"..J-Just tell me who the hell I am."

Gyomei reached out once more, And this time Shizuko didn't argue once he felt the firm hand of his mentor grasp his shoulder.

He was shaking like a leaf, A rare moment when his resolve started to tremble like a tree in a storm. Shizuko's fists were balled yet he threw no punches, Only dropped his head down to stare at them as he tried not to weep harder than he already was.

Gyomei's hand squeezed his shoulder, A single thumb rubbing circles into it. His touch was unfortunately revolting, Making Shizuko tense up. But despite the disgust coursing through his veins, He didn't shake it off.

He didn't want to, Even though it made him want to sob even harder.

"..I'm sorry, I wish I could give you the answer that you desire but that is not for me to give." Gyomei assured, His voice was soft yet it sounded so loud within the darkness of the prayer room.

"..Who you are is for you to decide. My rage got the best of me once, And it almost became who I was. But I never let it consume me.. And I have tried so very hard to make sure it never happens again." Gyomei spoke "So please.. Trust me when I say that who you are is who you choose to become.. Neither your lost memories or your anger define you, Not unless you let them.."

Shizuko sniffled.

"B-But that's just it, Isn't it?" Shizuko croaked, Wiping his tears on the sleeve of his yukata. "I do remember just the tiniest bit.."

Gyomei's eyebrows knitted together, The thumb rubbing circles into his shoulder halted, Just for a moment.

"..Whatever do you mean?" Gyomei asked.

"T-There's someone out there that knows who I use to be. There's someone out there who held my goddamn hand.. And hell, It felt nice." Shizuko admitted as the dried tears quickly became replaced, Falling down quicker once that otherworldly warmth came back to him.

Gyomei however, Whatever reaction Shizuko had been expecting from him. Shock, Intrigued, Happy that he had at least some memories. And sure, There was some of that there but it was taken over by something else.

Something more.. It was something more hesitant.

Shizuko caught onto it immediatley, Observant eye able to pick up the oddities in his expression.

He sniffled, Scrunching up his face as he shook the newly born tears off.

"..You.. You don't know who that is, Right?" Shizuko asked, Stutter still in his voice yet more pronounced and steady now. Gyomei thinned his lips, The intensity in his muscles becoming much more visible.

"Shizuko.." Gyomei drawled which just made Shizuko move forward, Eyes on him like a hawk, Not letting them wander for a second. The way he was acting, Though difficult to see in the dark.. He knew something.

"..Master." Shizuko replied, Slowly and with intent as he carefully eyed the taller man who was currently in debate of his own. Stiff as the statues he prayed to at the altar behind him, Cold stone on his face as he played out the discourse in his head.

He recalls the conversation he had with Kanroji back at the Hashira Meeting, When they had discussed [F/N] and her relation to Shizuko as his older sister. It was a good while ago now, But he still felt confused by it all.

Everything. How he was simply tossed on the temples doorsteps as a child, How he spoke of an older sister. Knowing now that it was [F/N], A colleague he had allied with for years, It shone an entire new light on everything now..

Yet somehow, He was still in the dark.

"Shizuko.. " Gyomei muttered, His morals at war.

"Alright then.. But keeping lies is against my morals and good concious, If he does ask about anything pertaining to this then I will not lie to him.. And I do hope you tell him in due time, Kanroji-san"

It was against his morals and his good concious, It would be a sin to lie to him. But on the other hand.. How could he possibly begin to explain to him something Gyomei couldn't even explain himself?

"Master.. Please. Tell me, Do you know something..?" Shizuko whispered, As faint as the candles waning. His eyes scanned over every facial feature, Ones he had learned the ticks and tocks to. "Do you.. You do, You do know something..!"

There was no way around it. No avenue or alleyway he could divert down to direct the conversation to a different topic. He needed to be honest, Be truthful. That was what his principles spoke of, Right?

"Shizuko.. I've been meaning to tell yo-"

"CAW CAW!"

The call of that all too familiar beast called out, Followed by a sudden sound of what seemed to be rapid tapping at one of the room's window frames.

Gyomei instantly snapped his head over to where the sound was coming from, Where the window was hidden behind several rich tapestries depicting stories from his religion. Suddenly feeling awkward, Shizuko stared as his master moved towards the window, Peel back the tapestries and let light flood into the room.

It was blinding compared to the shadow the room was bathed in, Making Shizuko stammer back and raise a hand to cover his eyes. Gyomei, Unaffected, Slid the window-shutter open to reveal the crow behind them.

It's feathers shone under the afternoon light, Light near rolling off them. Once Shizuko got use to the light he finally recognised the crow as Kamakiri, The Insect Hashira's crow, One he had often seen flying around in Corps Area's he often loitered around in.

Her beak snapped once, The little butterfly charm around her neck shaking as she spoke.

"CAW CAW! STONE HASHIRA HIMEJIMA GYOMEI! YOU HAVE BEEN ASKED TO MEET AT THE BUTTERFLY MANSION ON THE REQUEST OF MY MASTER, INSECT HASHIRA KOCHO SHINOBU!"

Kamikiri's voice was loud, Echoing out throughout the entire room as she delivered her message. Gyomei hummed, Rattling the beads snaking around his hands.

"For what reason..? Did your master give you any cause?" Gyomei asked.

"NO REASON WAS GIVEN HOWEVER IT WAS STATED TO BE IMPORTANT! CAW CAW! DO YOU ACCEPT THE INVITATION?" Kamikiri squaked once more, Flapping her wings once in the radiant light and waiting for his response.

Gyomei lowered his brows, Seemingly taking in the words as the beads around his hands clacked together like heeled shoes on the floor. He wasn't summoned often, Especially not by another Hashira..

"..Yes. I will set off to The Butterfly Mansion as soon as I can.. Please tell Kocho-san I will be there by the next morning at the latest.." Gyomei spoke softly, Lowering down into a bow with his hands still pressed in prayer.

Kamikiri did the same, Mimicking the same bow a human would do but on her talons. Once she raised back up however, She squawked out a goodbye before she flapped her wings once more, Turned around and took off out the windowsill.

Gyomei raised from his bow too, Reaching back up to his full height. Shizuko watched as Kamikiri soared into the air, Wind was no obstacle to her as he watched her surge out onto the horizon. And once she was gone, He snapped his head back around to his master.

"..Shizuko, We will need to continue this conversation later.." Gyomei finalized as he resettled the heavy haori over his shoulders, Adjusted the shirt of his uniform and fixed his belt.

Shizuko knitted his brows, Stepping forward.

"Wait! Can't you just finish what you were about to say? About what you were going to tell me?" Shizuko gawked as Gyomei finished adjusting his clothing, Turning his head over to the younger boy. He sighed, Frown thickening.

"Later.. I promise you that I will answer you in due time, When I get my words in order.. But right now I must leave." Gyomei assured, Taking a few steps towards his apprentice and bowing down slightly towards him.

And when Shizuko looked in his uncoloured eyes, He knew he had fucked up.

Shizuko didn't react, Just looked up at him. The thundering of his heart started to slow, What storm inside starting to dwindle at the action his master took. Shizuko suddenly became aware of the past conversation, What disrespect he had shown.

He had let his emotions take over, His anger consuming him. He had yelled at his master, The one he had grew up with and the one he had trained under for who knows how long? Forget that forgotten memory, Just for a second, He needed to focus on the person he remembered.

Shizuko sniffled, The last of his tears drying.

"I.. I'm sorry, Himejima-sama." He spoke, Returning to his formal tone through his shaky voice. He lowered down into a bow, Just like his master did before. "I shouldn't of been so disrespectful to you, Please, Forgive me."

Gyomei sighed but eventually a small smile came to his face, Something now illuminated by the newly moved tapestries. He moved forward just a step towards him, The candlelight still burning bright in the back.

"You do not need to worry.. I understand." He spoke. "I will be heading out now.. But in the meantime, Please go and rest.. I know how hard you have been working lately, Do not overwork yourself.. It is poison to the body."

Shizuko looked up, Taking a moment to look upon his face before nodding.

"Yes, Himejima-sama.." He spoke, Almost as low as the wind drifting in from the window. Gyomei nodded towards him, Turning around before striding off towards the door, Hands still pressed together in prayer.

He said his goodbyes, Leaving Shizuko alone within the room. His only company was the cantata of the birds outside, The flicks of the flames on the votives and his own screaming head.

Shizuko turned to the open window, The tapestries still peeled back from the usually covered opening. He looked out into the gardens outside, The tree's swaying in the open wind.

Gyomei knew something, Something Shizuko had been longing for his entire life. But how could Shizuko have been so brash when asking about it? He had just let wrath come to him, Let it burn him.

It seemed like that had been happening more and more lately, Becoming bitter about the slightest thing and not the orderly soldier he was suppose to be. But he couldn't fret, Once Gyomei was back he could fix this.

Shizuko felt a throb in his chest, Gyomei actually knew something. The look on his face told him everything he needed to know. Well, Not everything, But he knew that Gyomei was hiding something from him.

And hopefully that answer would fix his irritability.

☆♡☆

"ACK-"

[F/N] tossed around in the air, Launched back by another one of his strikes. And just as all the training sessions before, Her body slammed against the wall of the far courtyard. As always she was defeated, Tumbling to the ground with her training sword flying out of her hand.

Hands gripped into the ground, Lifting her aching head only slighty just to sputter up more blood.

"As always.. Your footwork is lacking.." The voice of her captor called out from the otherside of the courtyard, [F/N] could almost feel the smugness showing through his stoic tone. It made her grit her teeth, Blood dripping down her busted lip.

She scoffed, Tasting the iron on her tongue.

"U-Understood, Kokushibo-sama.." [F/N] spat out, Ichor decorating the floor where she cursed him under her breath. Shaky hands pushed down, Levelling her up to her knees where she tried not to collapse once more.

Kokushibo stood under the great tree in the middle, His golden eyes piercing through the shadow to stare at her. He watched as she picked up her fallen sword, Dust off her dirty Samue and wipe the blood from her lips.

They narrowed in on her, Almost disappointed.

"Pick yourself up, Our session here today is done.." He simply stated, Sliding the flesh-forged blade of his sword into its sheathe. And without a word, [F/N] watched as he turned away.

And as soon as she blinked, He was gone.

[F/N] groaned, Hands going to grapple at her side. Akaza really didn't hold back there, Neither did Kokushibo as he mercilessly sliced at her. He didn't go easier on her despite her injuries.

[F/N] knew that she'd have a few more bruises to show for it, And she cursed Kokushibo out all the same.

She pushed herself to her feet, Stretching as she raised her arms into the air. [F/N] tried not to cringe once she felt that pain in her side, Almost like her ribcage was settling back into place.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

That bastard, [F/N] thought as she sauntered over to the tree. These sessions were completely pointless, Him telling her that it was "Training" which made absolutely no sense. She was a slayer, So called the strongest alive.

He knew this, He didn't care. [F/N]'s knees shook once she finally got under the tree's shadow, Too tired to even walk as she pressed her back against the stump. [F/N] slid down until she was nestled within the thick roots, Held high atop the little grassy hill.

[F/N] let out a sigh, She just wanted to sleep.

And she almost did, Eyelids fighting to stay vigilant. She had only woken up about an hour ago yet she still felt exhausted.

Haze started to set over her vision, Curtains closing as she felt her body grow limp.

"Hey."

[F/N] blinked.

"Oh.. It's you." [F/N] yawned, Rolling her shoulders as she propped herself up against the tree. A good few metres away from her stood Akaza in all his glory, Stature tall as his eyes narrowed in on her. Akaza rolled his eyes.

"Of course it's me, Who the hell did you expect it to be?" He scoffed as he took a few steps towards her, Something gripped tightly in-between his knuckles as he went.

[F/N] didn't respond, Only curling up into herself tigher. She seemed to bury herself into the roots of the tree, Not meeting his eyes. She didn't want to, Especially once she felt the heat of them burn into her figure.

Akaza's brows furrowed.

"Okay.. Fuck it- But are we gonna talk about what happened yesterday? I mean, Come on. Are we just gonna ignore your suicide attempt? Not talk about it at all?" Akaza took a few steps closer, Only making [F/N] curl up further.

[F/N] winced. Of course he was going to bring it up.

"I don't want to talk about it, I wasn't in the right mind back then. Just- Ignore everything we talked about. I was tired, I was bitter about being here.. I was just being stupid. Just forget it, Okay..?!" She hissed, A defensive snarl starting to appear on her lips.

Akaza just stepped closer towards her.

"But are you fine now?" He asked, Raising a brow at her. She stared at him, Only for a second. The shoulders [F/N] held up like a barricade started to lower, Leave it up to [F/N] to get defensive over a question, One that she knew was due to be asked.

She sighed.

"..Now, Yeah." [F/N] replied quietly, Still unable to meet his eyes. Akaza took a moment to look into her eyes, The ones that didn't look back at his. He almost didn't believe her, But unlike yesterday her fighting spirit wasn't roaring like it use to. No, It was completely dead now.

"..Right." Akaza said, Finally sauntering up the little hill and setting down the rectangular box he had been holding in his hands. Handle clattering into its normal position once he let go of it.

[F/N] blinked, Snapping her head over to look at the noise.

"Erm.. What's that?" She asked, Hesitantly eyeing it up and down like a ticking bomb.

"Food. If you want to get out of here and fool Upper One, You're doing it on a fighter's diet." Akaza replied as he kneeled down towards the wooden box, Starting to peel off the lid from the top.

[F/N] grimaced.

"I'm not hungry." She replied quickly as she watched Akaza open the box, Letting the aromatic smell of perfectly cooked fish and other delicacies inside flow out. [F/N] tried not to salivate at the scent of it, Not daring to look at it either. Slightly suprised that he had brought food for her.

Akaza shook his head.

"No, You're gonna eat it." He stated, Almost as if she had digested it already. "It's got everything you'll need to scale the Infinity Castle, This is the standard that your weight-class and gender should get."

[F/N] bit her lip.

"Yeah well.. I've just not been that hungry lately. Thank you but.. You can have it." She replied, Shaking her head as she smelt the scent of fish come from it. Seeing the enticing shimmer of the fish scales inside, She tried not to give in.

And fuck.. She was starving.

"I can't eat human food, Idiot. Besides, I can basically see you drooling there." Akaza scoffed as he watched her take peeks at the food "You look starving. Are you seriously gonna waste food?"

[F/N] quirked a lip, Already regretting telling him about her childhood. Dirty tricks, But there weren't much else he could play. Swallowing down the excess of her saliva, She finally turned her head to look at him.

"I hate you for this, You know that? Right?" [F/N] hissed as she reached a hand down towards the box, Bare hands starting to grab fistfuls of rice and fish-meat cutlets from within the neatly packed bowls.

"There's cutlery there.. Oh." Akaza trailed off once he saw her shove handfuls of rice and meat into her mouth, Bare-handed and she didn't care that she looked like a rabid beast choking down meat into their maw.

It matched the rest of her appearance. Her ragged hair, Her dirtied skin and clothes. Even her eyes had a wild look in them as she scarfed down her meal and wipe the excess off her samue's sides, Eyebags protruding them from her face.

Akaza almost gagged if not for remembering how he did the same thing, Only with human meat of course.

"So.. " Akaza started, Continuing to watch her scoop handfuls of mixed food and shove them into her mouth. "About that thing with Upper One.."

[F/N] choked down another chunk of rice, Wiping her mouth on her sleeve before looking up at him.

"What thing?" She asked.

"..You know? The idea that I suggested and the one you agreed to? To get closer to Upper One?" Akaza raised his brows, Watching as [F/N] narrowed her eyes before shoving another fistful into her mouth.

"Oh- Yeah, That thing.." [F/N] said through her chewing, Almost deflating once he reminded her. She had been hoping to avoid it but..

"So? How's that coming along?" Akaza asked, Folding his arms as he watched her scarf down her meal. [F/N] shook her head, Lowering her gaze away from him as she swallowed down her food.

Fuck.. She loathed how disgustingly delicious it tasted.

"..Come on, How exactly am I suppose to get along with him? He's an unfeeling prick.. I doubt he even has any emotions I could appeal to.." [F/N] groaned, Shaking her head at the mere prospect of him having feelings.

"You said he's fucking obsessed with you, So appeal to that?" Akaza exasperated, Shrugging his shoulders.

[F/N] rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Yeah, Right.. Let me just start acting nice and loving to him all of a sudden, I'll just start pretending that I actually like him. I'm sure he won't notice somethings up at all!" [F/N] sneered, A malicious smile spreading across her face which she proudly displayed to Akaza.

He sneered back, Shaking his head at her behaviour.

"Oh come on! How about you shut it and actually try make some leeway here, Eh? I'm not saying you should start liking it immediately, I'm saying that you try and work away at it." Akaza snapped, Stepping closer to her until he finally got to her side.

[F/N] stared up at him, His eyes made all the more prominant as they shone through the tree's shadows, Glaring back at her. [F/N] dropped her malicious smile in favour of a frown, Finally turning away from him.

"..Whatever, I'll figure it out." [F/N] finally spat, Wiping away the last of the foods residue from her mouth. Rice bits shook off her hands as she finally deflated back against the tree, [F/N] didn't have the patience to argue.

Akaza in turn, Lowered his snarl once he saw her start to shrink in on herself.

He felt a sort of pull in his chest, One that he instantly shrugged off in favour of kneeling down and sitting back down beside her with a grunt.

[F/N] watched as he pushed his half-naked back up against the trunk, Bare feet entwined with the overgrown grass. He didn't look at her, Just stared off somewhere far-off and pulled his knees near his chest.

She gazed at his features for a second. His gaunt skin to contrast with the deep navy stripes running across it, The way his pinkish hair drifted in the air. [F/N]'s nose twitched, He had no right to be demanding.

But whatever.

[F/N] turned back to stare in her own designated place, Nowhere in particular, But somewhere she could just relax back against the tree and take in the air. The air that was fresh, The air that brought her back to her senses.

The only warm place in this entire place, The heart of the shrine. Despite the coldness surrounding it, It flourished anyways. Despite the harsh environment it endured, It was still thriving. [F/N] breathed in the air.

It was nice.

"..You still haven't finished your food."

"Fuck you."

☆♡☆

The skies were orange, A pungent shade of burgundy into citron set over the small township.

The wind was crisp, Cool to anyone caught in it. Birds warbling an aubade could be heard in the trees, Crickets joining in for the chorus in the new morn. People were out in the streets, Walking by and happily conversing with one and other as they went.

Gyomei walked brisk, Short hair dancing with his haori waving within the wind. The Butterfly mansion was large, The biggest property in town so it gave him plenty room to just stride throughout the place unbothered.

But a walk wasn't what he was here for, No, Instead it was the Insect Hashira who seemed to be nowhere about. Despite asking around, Mostly from that Kanzaki woman and the three little girls that followed her, They had no idea where Shinobu was either.

So here he was, Wandering throughout the lavish gardens of the mansion. Striding past crops of fresh veg and tree's filled with fruit and fauna. The air was something Gyomei could appreciate, Something he almost stopped to enjoy within the daybreak.

He breathed out.

"..Himejima-san!"

A voice called out from somewhere above, Somewhere that Gyomei tilted his head up towards. On top of the tiled roof of The Butterfly Mansion, Sat Shinobu perched upon the edge.

She smiled down at him, Soft and delicate. Glossy eyes honing in on him.

"Kocho-san..!" Gyomei called out to her, Soft as a yell could be as he pressed his hands in prayer. "You summoned me here for something important.. Not explained by your crow.. Please, Do you mind telling me the reason I have came today..?"

Shinobu hummed. Luckily for her, The part of the roof she was perched on was rather low. Somewhere she could easily make her way down from, Which is exactly what she did as she nudged herself off.

Shinobu almost drifted, Butterfly haori glistening in the orange light as her feet hit the ground with a barely audible thud.

But Gyomei's hearing was impeccable, Now fully turned to the direction of where she had landed. Listening to the soft patter of her footsteps as she made her way over to him.

"Yes, Yes.. I must apologise for the lack of information as I sent my crow out rather hastily, I'm sorry for acting so rash.. It's not like me to do so~!" Shinobu sang as she came closer to him, Pausing in front of the man before bowing herself down lowly in respect.

Gyomei, Sensing the action. Reciprocated as he lowered himself in response.

Shinobu rose.

"The reason I asked you to come here today is because I got a rather interesting tip-off from my crow!" Shinobu announced, Hand raising before going under her haori.

"You see, I had sent out my crow a few days ago to a village in Fukushima. He was tasked with purchasing some specific herbs that I needed from that region, But unfortunately things didn't go exactly as expected.."

Gyomei lowered his brows, The beads around his hands starting to chatter.

"Yes..? And what exactly happened..?"

Shinobu's smile widened, Yet her eyes darkened all the same.

"My crow was intercepted by a man in the village when he had went to pick up the herbs- He had fastened a rather interesting letter around her neck, One that I think that would interest you.." She drawled out as she watched his expression change.

Gyomei, A man of not many expressions simply stiffened his figure. A man had targeted a Kasugai crow? Of course, Demons were known to try and attack crows during the night. But a man? A human man? And of all things had wrapped a letter around it's neck and sent it on it's way.

Shinobu's expression was bright, Just as scorching as the sun that silhouetted her. Smile stretched on her face, Yet her eyes contained such thanatoid dullness. Something dark brewing within.

Something that even Gyomei could feel, An unease going through him.

Shinobu fished out the letter from within her haori pockets, Hair dancing in the faint wind as she unscrolled the spotless fibre from it's shape. Though she didn't mean to read it aloud, No.

She just needed to check, Just that she was reading it right, Just for the thousandth time.

"..There is a possible sighting of Uppermoon two, Apparently associated with some sort of cult near the village." Shinobu announced as she scanned her eyes across those two dooming words, The ones that she smiled so scaldingly bright at.

Gyomei's eyes widened, The clanking of beads stopping.

"This is.. You mean to say that there was another Uppermoon sighting..? Of number two, Of all moons..!" First it was Upper Six, Defeated in The Red Light District. Next, It was the attack of Uppermoon Four and Five on the swordsmith village.

Just like that.. In over a century several had been slaughtered from their ranks. Now, It was Upper Two?

"Of course." Shinobu nodded as she gently patted the letter back within her haori pocket. Gyomei sensed there was something she was not telling him, Something that she was keeping away. It made him suspicious, Incredibly so.

Gyomei had a frown on his face, Deeper than it ever was.

"Kocho-san.. I'd advise you to go to Oyataka-sama before me.. I am not the messenger you want since you happen to have all the information.. We need to plan something out before we act..!" Gyomei urged, Cogs already starting to turn.

Shinobu hummed.

"..Of course, I will go to him but not right now. Not before I do some scouting of my own, You must understand!" She laughed airily until it trailed off into the wind, Blowing past her before it died down entirely.

Gyomei paused.

"I.. Then why me..? Why did you ask me specifically to come here if you don't want to tell anything to the corps..? Something I deeply advise against.." Gyomei warned once more.

But Shinobu didn't respond, Just acknowledged it with a single warble of her throat before clearing it.

"Oh, Don't worry about it~! I'll explain to you in a moment.."

She smiled, Even wider.

"There is still one left to arrive.."

☆♡☆

[F/N] laid, Still pressed up against the trunk of the tree, Listening to the sounds of air travelling through the shrine.

Akaza sat next to her, The box too now empty of the food it once held. Carefully packaged food, Bowls of rice, Canteens of soup and cutlets of many meats all ravaged and scarfed down.

[F/N] admitted that it was good. Disgusting, But good. Hard to swallow yet settled in her stomach fine.

She breathed in the air, Fresh and poignant as it filled her lungs with life. The aching of her bones from training earlier still had a lingering pain, Throbbing and bruised.

It almost spoiled her mood, Especially since she now felt something akin to normalcy once lazing on a mockery of hillside and it's lumber. She tried not to think about it.

Kokushibo and his little training sessions with her, What a monster he was. What reason did he have to do this all with her? With someone he already admitted was the best he had ever fought in centuries, You'd think she'd not need to partake.

He liked torturing her, That's what [F/N] came to. Some sadistic joy inside his dead little heart liked to watch her bleed, To bruise and blister. Always lingering around to watch her, Almost going over to get a better look.

[F/N] scoffed under her breath. He had even tried to gift her that hairpin, The one she still wore in her hair at this very moment, All to get her to stay compliant.

How could she? When every time they'd pass in the halls he'd keep his eyes on her, Expecting her to be what he thought she should. Keep her locked up here- All while beating her down daily.

There was no reason to it!

The warm air felt nice on her skin, Eyes almost drifting away into another dream. Akaza himself had long done so, His eyes closed and his breath steady.

[F/N]'s eyes widened.

A sudden hitch in her breath came, A neuron connecting within her brain.

Oh, That was the reason.

It was because he had no idea how else he could spend time with her.

[eqt-95]

wip what is a wednesday

thanks @sssammich and @sideguitars for the double-team.

here is an excerpt from chapter 2 of to want and to have and to hold *rereads to make sure it's in the right order* (why did i pick this as the title)

- - - -

“Ok this… should… do it,” Kara huffed from the other side of the ship’s wall. 

Then there was a creak. Then the entire wall shifted. Then Lena felt a shot of pain and registered that her hand was now the filling of a metal sandwich. Then Lena did the irrationally instinctive thing and yanked. Hard. 

“Shit,” Lena hissed once freed.

Then she did the logical thing of shaking her hand to futilely flick away the ‘ouch’ raging through her palm.

Kara was there in an instant. She arrived with a burst of wind and a blast of sand. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Lena answered. The protective way she clutched her hand disagreed. <something something ‘object impermanence’>

“Was that-?” Kara rushed, hands hovering with the hesitation of a housefly. “Oh Roa, Lena did I-”

“No,” Lena interrupted. “I wasn’t thinking and-”

“You’re always thinking,” Kara mumbled. “I should’ve…” Her hesitation faded and two impossibly warm, impossibly strong, impossibly delicate hands traced over Lena’s hand and the harsh red and blooming purple spreading across her pale skin. 

“Kara, really it’s ok-”

“No it isn’t,” Kara replied, unable to tear her eyes away from the angry discoloration. “Here.”

Lena stared at the rag Kara picked up with worthy skepticism. ‘Skepticism’ became ‘dawning realization’ when Kara exhaled and the worn fabric glistened with icy crystals. Its normalcy looked so alien. 

Hand still clutched protectively in one hand, Kara wrapped the rag around Lena’s hand with a reverence that bordered on religious. The effect was instantaneous. Throbbing pain was muted by the coolness of quickly melting ice. 

It wasn’t the only thing melting.

Lena cleared her throat. Re-solidified.

“Y-you have freeze breath.” It was said matter-of-factly. Rhetorically. With a crack in her hushed voice.

“Oh, uh, yea,” Kara remarked with a tinge of red to her cheeks. She didn’t hear the ‘rhetorical’. 

“No, I mean, I know that,” Lena clarified. “I-I know you have freeze breath.”

“Right, right-”

“You know you have freeze breath.”

“Uh… yes?”

“You’ve had it the whole time.”

And then it clicked for Kara. Kara, superhero and possessor of extra-human strength and magical qualities like freeze breath, had gone weeks in the desert without water or air-conditioning. “Oh. Oh. I-I didn’t mean to-”

“And we forgot,” Lena observed. The trace of a smirk appeared. It was a silly thing.

“W-we-?”

“Does that happen a lot? In the field?” Lena asked, interrupting Kara’s confused stammering.

Kara’s jaw bobbed open and closed with the grace of a fish. “Kinda?”

Lena nodded. An opening. A hand still linking them.

“It’s just that…” Kara began then paused. Her gaze remained fixed on Lena’s hand. Her fingers fidgeted with the now-damp rag. Her lips let honesty tumble out. “Sometimes there are all of these things happening, a-and sometimes it’s overwhelming to like, think about who’s in danger, how many bad guys there are, what’s the context that I-I don’t really have time to pick the best thing?”

Lena leaned against the wall of the ship, pondering for a moment. “That makes sense.”

“Really?” Owlish eyes blinked up from Lena’s hand to meet hers.

“Sure,” Lena answered. She shrugged. Kara stared. “Decision paralysis. You’ve got inputs and parameters changing in real time and every choice can impact life or death. It makes sense.”

“I-uh-”

“Can I get another blast of ice? This is going to swell.”

- - - -

i would LOVE to see wip bits and bobs from everyone, but I'm gonna tag a couple I haven't seen bits and bobs from in a while: @ekingston, @lovepotionnumber5, @vox-ex, @fabulousglitch, and @inkedroplets. as always, tagged respectfully and without pressure but i'll geek if y'all come out and play.