#samurai heart (some like it hot!)

[gintama-polls]

After three months of polling, the Gintama OP/ED Music Tournament winner is:

"Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!) (サムライハート)" by SPYAIR

Thanks to everyone who voted! Seeing everyone's opinions on these songs made it extra entertaining.

A Spotify playlist with 67 of the songs (it doesn't include "Kiri Musubi" by DOES) can still be found here.

Preparations for the next long tournament has started. You can find more information on this post.

Finally, please enjoy this performance of "Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!)" from the Gintama Ginmaku Zenya Matsuri 2013.

[mysticsnoopy]

i think the best thing about starting ace attorney and knowing nothing about the series is at first thinking Phoenix is a normal guy with wacky shenanigans but through out the trilogy you realize "huh this guy is actually pretty weird" but so much crazy shit happens to and around him that he seems not as crazy as whatever shit he has going on

[wordswhisperinthedark]

THE FAMILY EVER 😍😭❤️

[awxcoffeexno]

giving him a reason

logan howlett x human!reader

fic masterlist

summary: you've been on the run from the yakuza and are taking refuge in an old, forgotten family home. logan's been protecting you this whole while because that's just who logan is.

content: i've lifted the setting straight from the wolverine (2013). reader is taking mariko's place--reader is mariko, mariko is reader (no names are taken tho). lovemaking ensues. this fic is super tender and gentle because bitches need to remember how tender and gentle logan really is (i'm bitches). this is porn with no plot lolol. f!reader.

warnings: extremely 18+ content. MDNI. i'll kill u if you do. tender love making, logan goes down on reader like a champ, piv, reader is a virgin but logan's vvvvvvvvv gentle and caring, there's hardly any talking but there is proper consent taking, logan just wants to take care of reader, all is good in the world (at least for now), and logan's lost his healing powers so several mentions of him having bullet wounds.

word count: 3k (oops? might've gotten a teeny tiny bit carried away)

a/n: back at it again, but publishing my first nsfw fic, praying y'all don't hate me. if you don't like this, istg the nsfw version of claw worship is NEVER seeing light of day.

you hear him groan behind the door and the sound makes your heart catch.

you and logan have been on your feet all day, save for the train ride to the small village in nagasaki you've finally reached. running from the yakuza had decidedly not been your plan for the day after your grandfather's funeral but what choice did you have in coming here really?

not to mention... logan saved your life yesterday. several times. he was shot seven times per what the doctor told you.

and he is not healing. your grandfather told you that kuzuri had exceptional healing powers. he'd told you this several times. but logan is not healing at all and it makes you tic. he'd told you that this was the doing of your grandfather's doctor. you cannot imagine the agony he must be in.

you've never done well with seeing or hearing people in pain. yukio always suspected you had some type of emotionally perceptive powers but you don't think so. you just have an inherent need to help and that's that.

carefully, hopefully noiselessly, you slide the door to the bedroom open and though he has his back to the door, his neck is already craning towards you. apparently whatever that doctor lady did to take his healing powers did not dull his hearing.

he's standing shirtless, feet shoulder width apart to keep his balance, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat.

"may i see?" you ask and he takes a long, deep breath.

you stand in silence, at first waiting for him to decide and then watching him turn around, bloodied black shirt in hand and an uneasy vulnerability in his eyes.

his stitches look mostly in place apart from the ones on the wound on his abdomen that have started to bleed. you pad over and reach a steady hand out to touch gingerly around the wound.

logan's jaw tightens but he lets you examine him, his breath warm on your face.

he's burning hot and it would be startling but he'd explained yesterday that it's normal for him. his fever had started when he was 9 and it never broke. so you ignore the unnatural temperature of his skin and step away to find him a cloth and some hot water to clean himself with.

when you return, however, he has clearly already showered and is trying to tie a dark kimono on. you have no idea where he found it and his efforts on keeping it in place force you to bite back a smile.

"let me." you offer, putting the contents of your hand aside to help him.

he immediately pulls his hands away in defeat and you find yourself barely an inch away from him yet again. his breath on you makes your toes curl this time. there's something different about his stance, something... more inviting.

"you need this tied like a proper samurai," you explain as you work on the obi.

there's a moment of silence, the pitter pattering of the rain comforting in the silence. he's thinking, you realise.

"your grandfather called me a ronin." his voice is low. tentative. "a samurai without a master. he said i was destined to live forever... with no reason to live."

that's probably the most you've heard him speak.

you swallow thickly. "was he right?"

"yes," he says, voice laced with such melancholy, it makes you ache.

he has taken seven bullets for you knowing he isn't healing. dodged perhaps a hundred more whilst protecting you.

you remember how he'd stood directly in an open doorway in front of a gun-wielding yakuza man to distract him so that you could run. you'll never forget the sound of those bullets hitting his metal skeleton. like nails on a chalkboard.

he'd put his life on the line for you over and over and over again.

aren't you reason enough then? haven't you become reason enough? after everything you've both been through? together?

you muster up all the courage you can and stuff it into one word. "still?"

your eyes dart up to his for a flash before coming back down to finish up. you pull your hands away but... but after the two dreadfully long days that you both have spent together... after seeing him fight to so furiously to keep you safe the way he did... after everything, you simply cannot bear the thought of stepping back.

neither can he apparently because one of his large, warm paws comes up and cups your cheek, ever so slowly pulling you into a kiss.

something about you has been haunting him since he first looked into your eyes three days ago at your family home in the suburbs of tokyo. especially after you, like a goddamned fool, tried to jump off the roof. he cannot pretend to understand why he's been so taken with you but he knows if he hadn't stopped you from jumping that day, another part of him would've died.

he supposes it's something about the saddest eyes on some of the most beautiful women ever that draw him to them. first kayla, then jean, and now... you. and that's only in the last half-century.

so he kisses you, warm and gentle and desperate to comfort. he kisses you like that until you mewl into his mouth, soft and needy. and then his own need shifts.

still careful to be gentle, his hands slip into your hair to hold the back of your neck to angle you better for himself. he's a tall man and leaning too far down is causing him pain he isn't very used to.

you feel so small in his hold, his hand wrapped around the entirety of the back of your neck, fingers resting under your ears, soothing your tingling skin.

pulling away a little, you run a thumb across his cheek. a small, very small smile spreads across his lips.

"hey." he says, voice low and soft, making you blush.

this should feel wrong. he's the kuzuri your grandfather told you bedtime stories about. the kuzuri whose bravery and determination gave you the strength to also face your nightmares as a little girl. you shouldn't be doing this.

but maybe that's why it feels right. you feel safe around him. truly and wholly safe; something not harada or even your own father has ever made you feel. you've known this kuzuri your whole life and you know he'll protect you.

you don't even bother thinking about how you're engaged to noburo. no, you've heard enough whispers about him sleeping with other women after your engagement to him. it doesn't faze you in the slightest.

so you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his smile. you feel one of his hands run down your back, coming to a stop right atop the bow of your obi, sending a shiver of thrill down your spine.

you've never felt this excitement before. you and harada had never gotten this far and noburo... well, something about his predator like advances made you want to throw up, so you never even let him this close.

but here you are, in the arms of kuzuri, a literal predator, and you feel... warm. nice.

he looks at you, brows dipping in an ask for consent. when you nod, sucking your lip between your teeth, he yanks the obi open and gently slips your kimono off one shoulder.

your soft, smooth skin makes him bite back a primal growl. he'd hate to scare you off, but standing here in front of him in the glow of the moonlight, you look so edible.

leaning in, making your tummy do a backflip, he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. it makes you squeak and hold onto him tighter lest your knees betray you.

"logan!" you whisper with a gasp, feeling his teeth sink in and your feet leave the ground as he scoops you into his arms and takes you to the mattress in the middle of the room.

carefully, he kneels onto the floor and sets you down, his movement so light and tender it makes your heart ache.

pressing another kiss to your throat and then your mouth, he moves to place himself onto the mattress, between your legs.

you look at him with such big doe eyes, he cannot help but bring your hands together and press a soft kiss in the middle of your palms.

he then moves to undo your kimono like a wrapped present and take you in fully.

you're beautiful. the moonlight makes you shine, so perfectly womanly and delicate in his gaze.

reverently, he bends forward, right hand wrapping around your left thigh and pulling your legs apart so he can finally claim you with his mouth. his wounds ache for relief, the position actual torture but he barely even notices, so taken he is by your presence.

you push a lithe hand into his hair when you first feel his tongue, tugging as your hips arch up and you cry out his name.

"logan, god–"

he smiles into your mound, not having expected such a reaction this quick, but it only makes sense. you've both been so wound up after everything, you obviously need this.

"i know, princess," he coos as he licks a stripe across your leaking pussy all the way up to your clit.

he brings his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks experimentally and he's forced to hold your hips down when you moan out loud again. he was not expecting you to be loud in bed but he sees absolutely no reason to complain.

his tongue works on you expertly, undoing you with every lick and stroke and bite and suck. his fingers squeeze into your sides painfully hard, so badly wanting to mark you as his. he runs his hands down to your thighs and gently pulls them around his neck, sitting up to relieve the pain in his wounds, pulling you up with him.

"lo–"

"i've got you, you're okay," he reassures immediately, making your tummy flip again. he's so so so gentle and it kills you to have seen him as nothing but a brute until you reached the village.

his mouth continues to perform its delicious hot magic on your nerves as your eyes roll back in your head and you unconsciously reach up for one of your bared breasts. he freezes when he notices your movement, distracted like a cat having heard a mouse scampering across a field.

your eyes fly open to finding him watching your movements with a dark and hungry lust.

"don't stop," he urges and though his voice is strained, it isn't unkind. if anything, it almost sounds pleading.

how can you possibly deny him that? especially when he says it in that voice, looking at you with that expression.

so you continue, cupping a handful of your breast and squeezing gently, making yourself moan. he groans into your heat and buries his mouth back against your pussy, eyes never leaving your hands.

he continues his good work, watching you like a hawk as you knead your breasts, biting your lip. carefully, you circle your finger around one nipple as he sucks on your clit again.

you lose yourself to it, the rhythm of playing with yourself, the beautiful way it harmonises with his mouth, it's all so delicious. just like that, you feel yourself winding up, up, up...

"c'mon, princess," he encourages, "let go for me."

and you fall. fast and slow, all at once, right over the edge. you fall and fall and fall, and he continues to do the wicked thing with his tongue around your clit, lapping at your pussy and you give your everything to him.

he works you through it, moaning your name softly, his hands bruising your thighs until you slump in his hold. gently pulling your legs off his shoulders, he sets you down and crawls over you.

his hands come to rest on either side of your head and the warmth is so inviting, the scent of tobacco and his earthy musk filling your senses.

"can you give me another, angel?" he asks, kissing you right on the mouth so that you can taste yourself on his tongue; heaven, the mix of his need and your release tastes like heaven.

you shake your head no, too overstimulated but he's already working his way down to your breasts, leaving wet, hot kisses in his wake. and when he gets to one nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a soft groan, it sparks the fire right back up in your core.

"watching you play with yourself..." he murmurs, trailing off as he licks a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts before looking up at you.

the look in his eyes and his unrelenting mouth make you whine. "logan... need you."

that makes him smirk. how quickly he's worked you out.

"yeah? don't worry, babygirl," and he's spreading your legs apart again, "i'll take care of you."

he pulls the kimono off himself so quickly, you suspect it might have something to do with the claws that retract into his hand. you didn't even realise when he took them out.

he's... glorious. every muscle in his body is taut and stretched across his body like a work of art. his tan skin is dusted with hair so fine it makes your mouth water.

your eyes cross his pecs, his wounds, his bruises, lower and lower until... fuck. he's... big. big and so red, surely it must be painful.

he brings a hand up to your face and you think he's going to cover your mouth but he simply says, "lick."

you oblige shyly, savouring the salt of his skin. he pulls it away, spitting and then wrapping his surprisingly long and thick fingers around his cock. he runs it up and down the length, watching you with such intensity, it makes you blush as he positions himself in front of your opening and you bite your lip, looking up as he crowds you again.

you feel him push into you and within seconds, he's already stretching you open so wide it makes you grab the pillow behind your head in desperation.

he stills, gauging you. he knows this feeling. he's felt it in other women before; the squeezing of walls so tight there could only be one explanation. you're a virgin. shit, he needs to be careful.

rubbing your thighs with both hands, he gently and carefully pushes in just a little bit more.

"never done this before?" he asks, leaning down to press the softest kiss to your lips.

of course he's right. you have no idea how he knows but it makes you redden that he's caught onto your inexperience. are you making it that obvious? oh god, are you not making this good for him?!

immediately noticing your agitation, he pulls all the way out and kisses you again.

"easy... easy," he says, stroking your hair away from your face. "just gotta relax."

his voice is so even, so warm and soothing, that you cannot help but nod.

"good girl," he smiles encouragingly, once again positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushes in again and this time it's easier. you aren't quite so wound up and he slides in smoother because he's already made you adequately wet. still, he goes slowly, making sure it is good for you.

until you realise he's going too slow.

"lo–" you gasp, voice more a squeak than you'd like. "more– need more, please..."

around anyone else you'd feel pathetic. begging for something so filthy, so raw. but with logan, it's so comfortable. knowing he'll give you anything you ask for, even if you've known each other only half a week.

so he pushes himself completely into you, and he's so fucking big, so fucking much inside you as he whispers words of encouragement into your ears, kissing and biting at your neck. the ache of the stretching almost immediately gives way to a sharp pleasure that shoots through you straight from his tip and into every last nerve in your body.

it makes you wrap both hands around him, needing so desperately to be as close to him as possible.

you initiate the kiss this time as he starts moving in you. you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his, making him groan. the sound is so delicious, you roll your hips to cause it again. his hands grasp your waist, steading you, moaning your name around your tongue.

one of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck again, taking charge of the kiss as he starts thrusting into you with more vigour.

you cannot imagine a better feeling than being right here. being held by him, being kissed by him, and being filled by him.

tentatively, you squeeze around him, realising you're reaching another orgasm quickly. he growls into your mouth at that, picking up further speed. it makes your hips buck and you're skin feel like it's on fire.

"logan, i'm... i'm..."

"me too, angel," he grunts.

and with one final thrust he presses all the way intp you, making you cry out as you come undone again. he snarls your name, a man possessed, the squeezing and fluttering of your walls pushing him over his own edge.

he fills you up, forehead coming down to rest against yours. he pants softly, never having felt tired like this before. but he realises... he doesnt mind it so much, not when he's tired because he got to make love to you.

you kiss him sweetly, breaking him out of his thoughts and he smiles at you.

"so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling out of you and lying down next to you.

he tugs you onto his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

"logan?" you say, so spent your eyes are already drooping.

"hmm?"

"still?" you say and he realises you're repeating his question from earlier.

he hugs you tightly at that, wrapping his arms around you, warm and possessive.

"no. i don't think so."

--

wrote this at 6 in the morning before work so if there's errors, it's not my fault :))))

ik everyone hates the 2013 movie but i rewatched it recently and i remembered every last line. fuck me it's soooooo good.

really hope u like it tho.

love, d <3

--

retroactively tagging @techwrecker for being a cutie in the comments in all my other fics 🙂‍↔️

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Mizu Being Jealous•°

Mizu isn't naturally a possessive person by any means. She knows the shit women have to go through, being controlled by others and the world.

So, she'd never be dominating towards you or think she has any say in what you do.

That being said, while she trusts you wholeheartedly... she doesn't trust other people. Particularly other men.

Men who view you as just a pretty face. A prize they'd want nothing more than to steal away from her.

Now that just won't do.

See, if it's an easy matter such as someone touching you or groping you without your consent, say no more.

Their fingers? Gone. Their arms? Sliced clean from their body.

If some sleazy flesh trader sets their eyes on you and begins chatting you up, their hand sneaking to places on your body only meant for her touch alone, well...

They're dead. Plain as that. She'll waste no time in tearing them to shreds with her sword, their viscera painting the walls.

And, with blood stained hands she'll cradle your face, her cold demon exterior vanished.

She'll look at you like you're her whole world, which you are. She will protect you to the ends of the earth.

When it's a lascivious man vying for your attention, Mizu doesn't get jealous. She gets protective.

But, when it's not? Well that's another story.

Sometimes it's a girl at a brothel and she takes a liking to you.

The girl will be sweet where most men aren't. She'll smile at you and gingerly slip her kimono off her shoulder.

The sex worker will talk with you, with the hope of something more. Her eyes shining and all the while you seem to be enjoying yourself.

That sets Mizu on edge. Leaves her feeling twisted inside.

Because you should be with someone else.

Someone not hellbent on revenge. An impure demon with a vengeful, angry soul.

The girl would be a better match maybe or someone like her.

Perhaps not a sex worker but someone who can take care of you better than the blue eyed Samurai. Give you a normal life in ways she cannot, at least not until her revenge is complete.

Mizu won't rescue you from the girl because you're smiling and content. Instead she will let you be, never mind the hollow ache in her chest when she sees you start to laugh.

You were just chatting with the sex worker, conversing on friendly terms, regardless of the girls intentions. But, how could your beloved Samurai know that from a distance?

Like an internal echo in your body, you'll feel Mizu's absence immediately and you'll go out into the snow capped village to find her.

She'll be alone beside a natural hot springs, sapphire eyes sad behind her orange lenses.

You'll curl up at her side as if she were your shelter, your blanket.

You'll know right away how she feels. Having learned how to read her slight expressions like the back of your hand.

Mizu is jealous but more than that. She's feeling like she's not good enough for you.

A ridiculous thought really. She couldn't be more wrong.

You'll reach out to take off her glasses and thread your fingers through her hair, undoing her up-do.

"I love you, Mizu. Only you. It will only ever be you who holds my heart."

Her gaze softens from your tender touch. She'll take your hands in hers and kiss every knuckle.

Her mouth, warm against your skin, travelling up your arm until her tongue reaches the moonlit column of your throat and she plants a wet kiss along your necks pulse.

Mizu doesn't deserve you, she thinks. Still, with you in her arms, open to her, your pupils blown wide with sudden lust... who is she to disagree with your choice?

Perhaps the gods gave you to her. A gift for her cursed existence.

"Say it again." She'll whisper against your flesh, hot to the touch despite the winter. Hot from her.

Her fingers deftly untying your kimono, her hands grabbing at your hips as she pulls into her lap.

Her calloused digits digging into your thighs to spread them for her, your chest pressed against hers...

Her fingers tracing your hipbones, making you shudder...

You gasp when they ghost over your navel and down... and further.

To in between your legs. The spot that craves her and is glistening like the hot springs rippling surface beneath the moon.

"I love you, Mizu." You'll moan.

She can't get enough of the sounds you make. Just for her.

"I belong to you." You'll whimper.

Ah, like music to her ears.

Despite Mizu's feeling of jealousy and her worry of being an undeserving partner, she believes you above all else.

You chose her, a miracle really, so she'll do anything to make you happy.

"You're only mine, huh?" She'll rasp, seeking reassurance, between kisses and gentle bites along your skin.

"Y-Yes. Only yours." You'll pant, her expert fingers bringing you to the edge.

Mizu smirks and holds you even closer. She could tease you longer, draw it out like usual but she wants to be good for you. Give you what you need.

In a moment of softness she brushes her lips against your collarbones...

"I love you. You are my life." She'll say to you before making you come.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

kirashino in killer queen's pov

You know what, I almost didn't do this one, thinking I had nothing interesting to say, but it turned out to be the microfic I had the most fun writing. Fittingly, this is also going to be the last microfic for this round! Thanks so much to everyone who sent in suggestions. I'm going to get back to editing some longer stuff, and hopefully posting more art soon! ---

This is the way of things. First there was one: Kira. Then another: Killer Queen.

Kira is a man with a man’s heart, a man’s appetites, a man’s joys and sorrows and petty tantrums. He keeps a house, goes to work, eats and sleeps and shits and talks sweetly to people he would happily feed feet first into a wood chipper. When his urges bubble up, hissing and spitting like hot milk over the lip of a sauce pan, that is when Killer Queen comes forward.

Killer Queen is a tool. Since it first emerged from Kira some fifteen-odd years ago, it has not changed in any fundamental way: smooth, vaguely feline in form, adorned in skulls and samurai swords, symbols it does not comprehend the full meaning of.

Killer Queen’s primary task is of separation. Separating body from person, limb from body, hand from limb, all without damaging them too much. And when Kira is finished with these disparate parts, when they begin to leak and sweat and stink of corruption, Killer Queen devours them, leaving nothing behind. That is what it does.

There are exceptions, of course, times when Killer Queen is needed for other purposes. The destruction of the snotty-nosed child whose stand swarmed them like fleas. The schoolboy who had pinned Sheer Heart Attack in place, but more importantly, stung Kira with his words, sending Killer Queen lashing out, cat-quick. Kira himself, forcing Killer Queen’s hand to sever his own, an action as painful as forcing blood to pump backwards.

Sometimes, rarely, when Kira is sunk deep into the dark well of a dream, Killer Queen is called forth for no apparent purpose at all.

It is theorized by some that deep in the mazelike folds of the brain, neurons fire almost at random, tiny messengers ignorant of the messages they carry. These cells have no comprehension of their importance, and yet the slightest scratch in cortex can render a man blind, deaf, or amnesiac, unable to remember what he had for breakfast or the face of his beloved grandmother. The world outside the body is not, a place of objective fact, but utter darkness, illuminated only by the scant and scattered efforts of a few million thready gray tendrils.

Such is the same with Killer Queen. It does not emerge because it wants to, but because it is called. The higher purpose behind the summons eludes it entirely. It does not perceive time away from the world as anything other than absence; it does not long to feel sunlight on its face, or to fight, or to kill.

Kira asks, Killer Queen answers. That’s the way of things.

On this night, Killer Queen hangs in the air like a haze, moonlight limning the pale curves and angles of its body. Its arms hang loosely at its sides. This is not Kira’s bedroom, but some other place, a place he has been spending most of his time in the last month or so. There is nothing to destroy in this room. Kira is-

a cat, a most beautiful tomcat with a silky soft coat, with lovely whiskers arranged just so, with eyes like deep blue pools, and he is cradled in the arms of a woman as she strokes his head, his cheeks, his chest. He does not understand what she is saying, but the words are soft, and when he nibbles on her finger she coos, delighted. Saliva wells from the corners of his mouth and dangles from his chin in long pearly strings.   

- deeply asleep, eyelids twitching. His face is different, but his habits are the same. His dreams are the same.

The woman, whose name does not matter, because she will be dead soon, is in the room too. She’s curled up like a pillbug next to Kira, face buried in the pillows. When he is awake, Kira wants very badly to strangle her, but he is not awake, so Killer Queen does nothing.

Outside, insects buzz and frogs peep. The dim orange light of the streetlamp flickers, throwing strange shadows over the sleepers. Devoid of intent, Killer Queen can only watch. Its unblinking eyes do not waver, its preternaturally muscular frame does not grow tired. Its focus is absolute.

It watches the woman stir and sit up, raise her arms in a stretch. It watches her leave the room, then come back with a glass of water. It watches her take a sip and place the glass on the nightstand, before sitting down on the side of the bed.

Kira sighs. The woman turns. She runs a hand through his hair, the movement slow and hesitant at first, until he shifts closer with a soft groan of contentment. His heart rate slows, his breathing steadies.

The woman says something to him, but it does not matter what, exactly, the words are. She sits and pets him, and gradually a soft noise begins to permeate the room, a noise only audible to the one person not awake to hear it. Kira-

knows her, this woman. This voice, this touch, the loose strand of reddish-brown hair tickling his fur, all are familiar. He stretches up to touch his nose to her nose, blinking at her, greeting her. His tiny pink tongue darts out to taste her. She laughs, and holds him close, and he feels content.

-is dead to the world, lost in his own private reverie.

The noise is like the idling engine of a well maintained motorcycle, or the deep-voiced treadle of an elephantine sewing machine, or the stuttering whirl and hum of a serpentine belt, spinning and spinning and spinning. It is like all of those things and none of those things.

Kira is the man, and Killer Queen is his tool, nothing more, nothing less. Nonetheless, tonight it purrs.

[rachetmath]

Rwby x video game

Ruby: Whoo… that was tough.

Yang: I can’t believe that Grimm trapped us in those video games like that.

Weiss: Indeed, my game was difficult.

Ruby: How so?

Weiss: I was a witch. I controlled time, had many weapons, and summoned creatures. But I had to do some embarrassing poses. 

Ruby: Oh you were Bayonetta. That was cool. Mid though. What about you Yang?

Yang: I was in this arcade game where I fought a bunch of people in the streets.

Ruby: Oh. I mean you fit the description of someone vandalizing property.

Yang: You know it. What about you Blake?

Blake:  I was a ninja. But instead of fighting just other ninjas, I was fighting monsters. And I also wield multiple weapons too.

Ren: You too. I was a samurai and I was fighting demons. And I can summon creatures to help me as well. And I had multiple weapons.

Blake: One of mine was a scythe.

Ruby; Really? Man. That sucks. 

Yang: What was your game, Ruby?

Ruby: I was a devil hunter. I also had a lot of weapons. But I mainly used three and a few metal arms.

Yang: Metal arms? Holy crap.

Ruby: My bosses were insane, especially the final boss. 

Ren: What about you Nora?

Nora: I fought my father.

Ren: What?

Nora: I fought my father who was trying to take my son. I did what I could but he was too strong. I managed though and survived. However, I pushed my son away from me and he left me alone. I was happy when he came back but things only got worse. I lost my friend. And though I managed to talk some sense into my father, my grandfather killed him right in front of me.

Ren: Nora it was a game.

Nora: It was real to me!

Ruby: Okay. Oscar and Emerald, how was your gaming experience?

Emerald: I was a badass treasure hunter. 

Oscar: I was a guy who wielded a Keyblade and had to fight the darkness. I made many friends but my main ones were a duck and a dog. Mainly the dog.

Ruby: Interesting. Well, Jaune what about you? What game did you go to?

Jaune: You can’t be serious. All of you have only been to one game?

Ruby: Yeah. I was in DMC.

Yang: I was in Street Fighters.

Blake: Ninja Gaiden.

Weiss: Bayonetta.

Jaune: Which one? In fact, red, blue or purple?

Weiss: Purple.

Ren: Nioh.

Nora: God of War Ragnorock 

Emerald: Tomb Raider.

Oscar: Kingdom Hearts.

Jaune: Oh my god. For real?

Ruby: Matter of fact, you’ve been gone for a while. What game were you in?

Jaune: I was in four.

Yang: Four? Like the fourth-

Jaune: No I was in four games?

Oscar: What were they like?

Jaune: Um hell.

Ruby: O.

Jaune: I was in hell. First I was in the Resident Evil series.

Yang: Number?

Jaune: 8.

Yang: Oo did you enjoy-

Jaune: I didn’t see the appeal. Especially, if the same tall woman, is trying to kill and eat you. And they were mild compared to a fungus monster, a crazy doll, a fetus, and an insane man with magnetic powers with the temper of a nine-year-old. I don’t know how I survived half that nonsense.

Yang: Damn.

Jaune: That was light work though. Then I went to find something called the Elden Ring.

Nora: Oh. Did you score any maidens?

Jaune: I will hurt you.

Ren: I mean it couldn’t been that bad. What was your role? 

Jaune: The victim.

Weiss: Didn’t you have weapons?

Jaune: Of course, in Resident Evil I had guns. Then for Elden Ring, I had swords and magic. Too bad I was against insane bosses who were completely out of my league. And one of them was a man who fought me with his bare hands! 

Nora: Oh.

Jaune: Had my butt bent over.

Oscar: Pause.

Jaune: Then Melina. Oh god. Oh god, A dragon flame thrower.

Blake: Jaune?

Jaune: After I got done with that madness, I went further deep into hell. Where my only option was to run.

Ruby: From what?

Jaune: Killer toy monkeys. An evil little girl. Clowns. Human-legged ducks. Golden Statues. Bagged Nurses. A Stuffed Mama Bear doll. I was lucky there weren’t more. 

Ruby: Oh god. 

Jaune: All while collecting these purple gems and running from the devil while assisting a witch. Who I have to admit is very hot. 

Emerald: Who were the worst?

Jaune: The worst ones were the Joy-joy Gang.

Emerald: Who were they?

Jaune: Animatronic robots.

Oscar: How were they so bad?

Jaune: Dark Deception. They’ll let you think you had a chance. First, they can become a giant ass robot. One of them can run faster than me. And when you think you've beaten all three of them, nine more will take their place- They have an army. Unlike the others, those guys had a better chance of catching me. They were just having fun. And when they caught me… … *remembers the beatdown* I swear if it wasn’t for their boss still needing me alive I wouldn’t have survived. 

Oscar: What was the last game?

Jaune: … … 

Oscar: Jaune? Jaune what was the last game?

Jaune: *remembers the people he lost. The people he’s murdered. The monsters he’s faced. The choice that could change everything.*

Jaune: I have no regrets.

Oscar: What?

Jaune: Nothing Oscar.

Ruby: Um… Are you going to be okay?

Jaune: Yep. As long as we killed the thing?

RWBY and NERO: … …

Jaune: Don’t tell me. 

*Roars*

Jaune: Let’s see.  Nine of us are here. Giant boss. Yep, we’re in an RPG. 

Ruby: Let’s go team.

Jaune: Wait what are our roles though?

*bob*

Ruby: Sniper. Cool.

Yang: Brawler. Nice.

Blake: Ninja. Hm.

Weiss: Mage. Indeed.

Emerald: Thief. Awesome.

Oscar: Support. Ah.

Nora: Berserker. Yes.

Ren: Archer. I’m fine with this.

Jaune: *terrified* 

Nora: What’s your role Jaune?

Jaune: HEY! FIGHT ME!! FIGHT! ME!

Ruby: Tank.

[beanghostprincess]

Transfem Buggy anon, back at it again

Luffy beat the everloving snot out of Kaido. Luffy and his alliance freed Wano. Buggy likely couldn't have visited Wano - soon after the Last Island, there was the hot mess with Roger leaving, the crew disbanding, everyone separating, Buggy+Shanks Survival Mode, the execution, Buggy and Shanks Survival Mode 2 Electric Boogaloo, and by the time Buggy would even be feasibly ready to go, it would have been locked down.

She'd have never once been able to truly visit that place.

And now? Now she has the Guild. She has responsibilities, appearances to uphold, and she'd find out that Luffy has been named an Emperor Officially and Wano Is Free.

She... she wants her mom. Gods, she wants her mom.

She calls Shanks. Asks if he'd heard. Asks if he knows. And he says he was close by. He's so near that he could be docked by the morning. And Buggy aches. How can she make this work? How can she do this, Shanks, she doesn't know what she's doing, it's gotten so crazy so quickly, she's drowning in it-

And he offers an alliance.

A no-harm agreement. Some of his and some of hers, themselves both involved, to go to Wano for personal and professional reasons. Wano is, after all, the homeland of very talented samurai and smiths.

And Buggy realizes the Guild could probably recruit from there - at the very least, establish trade for quality goods. It's a bit far, but it would be worth it for the sheer quality alone - and it would boost the economy.

Shanks would be able to call it an adventure, would be able to set it as a vested interest bc of his history with Kaido, it could work-

Crocodile and Mihawk do insist on accompanying her - for surface level United Fronts, for private "don't fuck it up", for personal "why is she so interested no I'm not curious about her no I don't wanna know her better shut up-"

Shanks gets a kick out of it.

Buggy is so preoccupied with seeing the home Toki told her about, maybe even seeing Toki herself, she's practically vibrating. She's in better spirits than she has been for YEARS.

When they finally arrive, Buggy asks Shanks if she can use his room. He just smiles and nods. When she comes out, all three men are a little breathless bc she's done her hair so artfully, with an unfamiliar hair piece, a loop of flowers made from beads and painstakingly cared for. Her makeup is no less flattering, but the style has changed slightly. Her outfit is a short kimono with half cut sleeves and leggings. She wears it well, and it's only the fact that they know her, have been with her, that has them aware of the fact that she ISN'T in fact a local.

They go to town.

Buggy gets along with them famously. Shanks is a very close second, perfectly mannered, while Mihawk and Crocodile trail slightly behind, out if place and reserved. It's all wonderful, blissful for a few hours, business and pleasure together, before they get lunch at a small restaurant, and an older woman steps over, bows, and asks the blue haired pirate if she "is little Buggy? Lady Toki's girl...?"

Buggy's heart skips a beat.

Toki has been dead for some time now. She fell with the destruction of Oden Castle, may her soul find rest. But she'd been a very close friend, and Toki has told this woman about her loved ones, her children, her husband, her friends, her other baby who deserved a Wano that deserved her in turn. Toki had photographs, keepsakes, and they all were entrusted to her closest friend.

Buggy is emotional. Shanks offers her his arm, his shoulder, and the others are silent, supportive sentinels. The ones who knew her mourned.

Buggy visits her grave. Tells her mom all about herself now. About the things she's seen and done and learned, from the day she watched the Wano shores bleed into the horizon to the day Buggy came home, well and truly.

Crocodile and Mihawk feel as if they are intruding heavily, but Shanks stops them with a look. Buggy did not tell them to leave. She absently waves for them to take a seat with her.

Toki taught her many things - honoring the dead among them. She talks the process out, and neither of her lieutenants mention that she and Shanks both are crying quietly.

The two former warlords learn many, many things about their chairwoman on this trip.

WELEWDJUIWEGFJKIWBFBWEJKFBWEFJKLWENFKLWNEKLFNWKEFNKWLEFNLKWENFKLWENKLFNWELKFNWEKLFNKWLENFKLEWLKFWNEKLFNWEKLFNWLKEFNLKEWFN <- super normal and mentally stable reaction to this. I am SO normal about this (I am NOT).

This is just so beautiful. Buggy finding out her mother is dead but there's so much she can still enjoy in Wano after telling Toki everything that has changed in her life. I think she enjoys the trip and she finally feels at home because everything she knows is thanks to her. Buggy wants the three men to stay with her because she feels a little less alone, and they're surprisingly extremely respectful. I imagine Buggy talking to Hiyori and Momo and it kills me,,, It's so sweet. I think Crocodile, Mihawk, and Shanks are having a moment of peak realization and they're starting to be down down bad for her. Like. There's no coming back after this because Buggy owns their hearts fr. Also, she falls so many times with that kimono because she's still a failgirl and she isn't used to those clothes because the last time she wore one of those was when she was a kid. And yet she still looks gorgeous and like she belongs there.

[gintama-polls]

Gintama OP/ED Song Tournament

"Togenkyo Alien" is the 9th opening song, the 1st opening song for Gintama' (episodes 202-227).

"Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!)" is the 17th ending theme. It is the 1st ending theme for Gintama' (episodes 202-214).

Songs under the cut.

[br0kenphone]

EGO ROCK (エゴロック) - Surii

TRANSLYRICS by br0kenphone If used, please credit me in the description! (Please link back to this post.)

HEY!

♪♪♪

In my weak-willed heart, a desperate I need you;

Just an alleged alkaloid— oh

My name’s just a skull on the internet

And I strum, causing distortion!

There's a samurai that's "all bark and no bite"

Stumbling to shoot that ol’ shotgun

Shall we dance to this miserable history

But oh hey, over there! There's some racket, hah!

My heart's stuck in an Ego Rock while

slanted 45 degrees, it makes all nonsense!

Know-how, smashing all expected of me and to tomorrow “BYE-BYE-BYE!”

Flattery, earning favor, all those sorts of thing; (Ooooh, sort of thing~)

the weather’s nauseating look

The rain of cynical glances always falling down on me; (Ooooh the falling rain~)

Today, I fake to close my eyes

♪♪♪

In my playful head, a desperate I need you; It’s the public’s alkaloid, oh–

There's that trendy kid, who's an instant show; Now go on, scatter DID

A samurai who's lost hope for his life;

cuts the future with this sorrow song

Let us sing to this miserable history!

But right there, looky there! What’s that no-noise, hah!

Shall we live with this “Rock” mind and heart? And this some midsummer-level hot music

“How-to” crushing as I draw up circles; and to tomorrow “WA-HA-HA!”

Impertinence becomes a bad habit too; (Ooooh, bad habit too)

it seems like I am an outcast

The rain of lyrical glances always falling down on me (Ooooh, the falling rain~)

Today, I fake to hide my eyes

♪♪♪

If transparent feelings are only to be stained

Then I’ll pretend to be blind and push those goddamn feelings away~

It seems like I’m losing at life

Being obsessed with all this win-lose nonsense.

In one minute, I’ll crush common sense

And to the future, we’ll say “GOODBYE!”

My heart's stuck in an Ego Rock while

slanted 45 degrees, it makes all nonsense!

Know-how, smashing all expected of me and to tomorrow “BYE-BYE-BYE!”

Flattery, earning favor, all those sorts of thing; (Ooooh, sort of thing~)

the weather’s nauseating look

The rain of cynical glances always falling down on me; (Ooooh the falling rain~)

Today, I fake to close my eyes

1, 2, 3

FUCK YOU

—

EDIT: I’ll post a demo of going through the lyrics at some point later. I’m busy with stuff atm and don’t have time to create the recording.

[demonslayedher]

Shall we talk ☆Pillar Filler???☆

(As well as the rest of the episode?)

Keeping it behind a cut because it's not yet available for everybody and a lot of people will appreciate being surprised (I know I did)!

First, how about that new OP??

I love how it sets this arc up for being a pause in the constant life or death struggle (for the Pillars anyway, hahaha), and pricks at how the Pillars always feel they are struggling to compensate for their weaknesses, and the inky hatred that fills their hearts which Oyakata-sama knows they've channeled into defeating Kibutsuji Muzan at all costs. I also had a passing thought the other day about how so many Japanese legends of demon slaying require the hero to call upon a non-human higher power, or use something like a poison or alcohol to weaken a demon before they stand a chance of defeating it. In the end, the medicine that Tamayo and Shinobu develop does serve this crucial role (and the sun fulfills the role of a higher non-human power), but it's otherwise ironic that instead of temporarily weakening a demon to their own level, the usual course of action is to use Breath to temporarily increase their power to that of a demon.

Attaining a mark sure increases the role that "temporary" already played in their lives, and it's really no question that they would choose to pursue that option, even knowing the result.

(Also, CHUNTAROOOOO)

So anyway, onto that filler!!

I loved it.

First, the nitpicking just to get it out of the way: why did a demon need to bother tying up a victim???? Whhhhy? Like, at least they didn't pull a Speedy with some contrived "this demon just toys with victims and leaves them injured instead of killing them" routine that makes for a happy low-stakes Piller Filler episode while showing utter disregard for what demons are and why the Corp risks themselves to stop them. (That said, I always love seeing other Corp members fulfill their own Corp duties with no relation whatsoever to Tanjiro, who is just one piece of a much, much larger whole.)

But rather than write what would ultimately be stupid dialogue with an insignificant filler demon, it's nice that Ufotable did not bother developing the Castle Demon. The totally undeveloped baddies are easy to cast off as Blood Technique (but maybe they could have looked a little cooler if, like, they were vaguely wearing samurai armor or something instead of just being in skin suits? Whatever, not important.) I appreciate that Ufotable did not bother to answer these questions of "why is the victim tied up" because the point of this scene was very obviously not about her or the demon. (I like to think Iguro cut the ropes and then told her to get to safety but just, like, left her there on the top roof).

So as for what this scene WAS for... hot dang, did it accomplish that!!!

The purpose was to make Sanemi and Iguro look cool, and it sure as hell did that. WHAT GOOD CHANBARA, those show-offy sword-play moves against a mob of nameless villains were just so deliciously well choreographed, and the people who can appreciate that were also likely to really appreciate the use of a castle as a purely fun battle setting. Ufotable was probably like, "Our biggest fans are nerds for KnY's touches of traditional Japanese folklore and culture, and for swords and swordplay, so you know what else will probably get them riled up? Yeah, let's give them a castle fortress."

And then everyone cheered, like, "Yes, yes, the fangirls like demonslayedher on Tumblr will never know what hit them."

But then some brilliant person spoke up and said, "You guys, I have the perfect finishing blow."

And everyone said, "What? How could we possibly top this scene that not only purely makes Sanemi & Iguro look cool, but also serves their characters and the plot nicely by showing how the Pillers don't feel they can rely on the other Corp members, and that even though they speak sharply to them they show concern for them by their actions? You know, especially slyly since anime-only fans will get to appreciate a new side of characters whom they haven't gotten to bond with much yet for only having seen their mean sides mostly and none of their battle coolness, and also slyly because the hardcore manga fans know that these two are buddies?"

And then the brilliant person says, "Let's give them that fortress."

The brilliant person was then crowned Ruler of Ufotableland and the fans lived happily ever after.

Speaking of Pillar Filler, I also want to point out how nice that opening exposition between Shinobu and Kanao was. First, what a nice way of incorporating Kanao into a nice episode that gives us a nice little dose of everyone in the Corp cast, even by adding that little scene of Amane and Ubuyashiki too. I loved the little touches that develop the Butterfly Mansion, like the fact that on the path there, they have a stone sign that says "Butterfly Mansion" and a line of carved Jizo statues (to protect travelers and (deceased) children) with little butterflies. And that moment of Nezuko frowning as the sunlight goes behind a cloud? Wonderful. And Shinobu essential saying to Kanao, "I trust you with defending everyone here in the now VERY LIKELY EVENT OF KIBUTSUJI MUZAN ATTACKING while I have to go off to a Pillar Meeting now that you're back"? I looooove iiiiiiiiit. That also says a lot about the trust other Pillars have in Shinobu to entrust her with Nezuko instead of putting any pressure on her to take part in Pillar Training, as clearly they don’t know about Tamayo, and it's really anyone's guess if they know about the poison or not (though the light novel implies Himejima might have an inkling but doesn't know). Being Pillars, though, I doubt any of them would tell her she's wrong for being prepared to take down a demon in any possible way.

I love, love, love, love the treatment of all the straight-from-the-manga scenes, like "Welcome home, Inosuke" (except for the added 'did you miss me, Aoi-chan' because canonically Aoi is the one kind of girl who is not his type), Tamayo speaking with Oyakata-sama's bird, Mitsuri's "explanation" of the mark, and every single Pillar interaction. I love the amount of respect they show to Himejima (and how Ufotable slightly expanded on this), and I am so excited for the extra Himejima content this season. In the new marketing materials released on the same day as the episode/movie, they make stark use of one of the kanji characters in his name ("cry out"), which is a very nice touch. And the use of BGM!!! Especially the touches of Giyuu's and Mitsuri's themes during the meeting!

*happy sigh*

It is nice to be a fandom citizen of Ufotableland.

[gippynippyhadaskippy]

Secrets; Mizu x mixed!fem!reader Pt. 3

A/n: Hey beauties! Happy Holidays and Happy early New Year!! I appreciate all the comments on the story :3, Also reader is a bit unhinged, just clarifying, 'Kay byeeeeeee!

Warnings and notes: Violence, Suicide implied, Racism, Mizu he/him pronouns till reader finds out otherwise.

Pt 1: https://www.tumblr.com/gippynippyhadaskippy/735820843700158464/secrets-mizu-x-mixedfemreader?source=share

Pt 2: https://www.tumblr.com/gippynippyhadaskippy/736299148632064000/secrets-mizu-x-mixedfemreader?source=share

The next stop in the journey wasn’t interesting, a noodle shop in the middle of nowhere. A sigh escaped your lips, growing tired from such a long mission. Not giving much thought to a bold approach or its repercussions, you enter the shop without hesitation. The samurai was already seated and hadn’t even looked in your direction. Why, not so much as a twitch. 

You dragged your eyes in his direction, he knew, 

you knew he knew, 

he knew you knew he knew. 

He met your gaze, inquiry was clear as day in them.

You snapped your eyes back, you’ll kill him, soon. 

You sat on a cushion from the opposite side of the restaurant as a big clumsy gentleman came to ramble about menu options, you gave him an eye smile and held up two fingers, second choice. After some fumbling, he assumed you were deaf and meant the second choice. It wasn't the first time your high voice had led to misconceptions—too high to pass as a man, too high to command respect. As he walked away you sighed. Your eyes were pulled back to him—the samurai. His attention was already on you. Another sigh, you squeezed your fist, but this time instead of exhaustion, it was titillation. 

Sweet and deadly.

You felt hot, why wasn’t he looking away? 

To everyone else, the two of you were stoic and intimidating, but you both were asking each other so much without even moving your heads. The bumbling man comes out from the kitchen and you disconnect your eyes first, following him instead. Once he brought the samurai his food and brought a rude flesh trader’s noodles to him, the girls looked miserable—poor things. 

In a split second, with a wobble and a fall a bowl of noodles fell onto Hachi’s lap. Of course, you knew who he was Shindo has done many business deals with him before. Many eyes watched on as the big gentleman slipped on more noodles, trying to fix his mistake. Your heart twinged with sympathy, as Hachi pulled a gun on him calling him a dog. Alas, you couldn’t do anything, if Fowler found out…

Gods, you sound like your father. 

Fuck. 

You absent-mindedly shook your head to rid of the thoughts of your father, he left you, alone. 

It hurt that you love him. It’d been like that for most of your life. 

Right, loved. 

A loud screeching noise made its way from across the restaurant, a table on wood. It went on for a bit and almost made you chuckle. The dramatic gesture came from the samurai—why weren’t you surprised? You were intrigued by the way he stood in front of the gun, his voice, his stance. 

It wasn’t like you hadn't killed attractive men and women before, it was often a pity that you quickly brushed off, letting yourself taste the dessert of what could’ve been. Although he is an entirely different kind of person, not from fame or wealth or any privilege at all. 

You’re hooked, and the drug was just six feet away. 

“European design, isn’t it?” A cocky smirk cracked on his lips, trying to make light gun talk with the flesh trader. Customers started to file out, in fear for their lives. 

After he revealed that he knew about Hachi, one of your eyebrows quirked up. 

“Why do you know so much about Hachi?” Hachi’s tone was defensive, guarded even. 

“Maybe I’ve been following you, the famous Hachi with the famous gun.” He chuckles, smirk still evident. 

“I’d love a gun like that.” A bold-faced lie, it was so obvious that he wanted something else. 

“You can tell me who sold it to you.” Bingo. 

“Hmm. Fuck off.” Hachi disregarded him and went back to eating. 

“You will tell me who sold you that gun.” A more commanding tone took the place of the cocky one. 

The blade slightly clicked out of the tsuka. 

Within a second Hachi pulled a gun on the samurai, and the samurai—ever so calm, splayed his hands. No foul play right? 

You watched on in amusement as he was backed up next to a knife.

Oh, a snack would be great right now. 

“You don’t deserve my blade,” The smirk disappeared, “You don’t even deserve this blade.” 

Two fingers plopped onto a plate, and Hachi screamed. 

You shifted in your seat, and your face felt hot.

“Take the gun if you want it! Take it!”

He pinned Hachi to the table and plunged a knife into the wood, not missing a beat he demanded, 

“It’s a filthy gun from a filthy place. I don’t want it.” He pulled him up by his obi. 

“I wanna know you sold it to you, tell me now.” 

You looked around at the restaurant taking in the situation fully, the girls seemed scared and meek, the big gentleman was in awe, and the shopkeep, with no customers, was horrified. A small smile formed on the corners of your mouth, stirring the pot definitely wasn’t his intention, it’ll have consequences. 

“Heiji Shindo! I bought it from Heiji Shindo!” Hachi whimpered, a pathetic sound really, for a pathetic man. 

“Heiji Shindo,” He tested the name in his mouth, “Where is Heiji Shindo?”

“I don’t know! I swear.” He whimpered again, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

Then the samurai tilted his tinted glasses down, revealing his blue eyes, and threw him down walking for the door. 

“You dead-eyed, half-blooded demon bastard.”

Hachi pointed. Big mistake. 

“You look like an onryo!” 

Two more fingers were added to the plate and your smile grew. 

After the big guy named Ringo left to follow the samurai, you followed suit keeping a safe distance between all of you. Another element was added to the mix, but that was the least of your concerns. 

Who was he? 

Most importantly why do you want to know? 

[anisongoftheday]

Gintama' Ending 1

Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!!) by SPYAIR

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Chronicle of Emotions (Fluff)

FastForward!Raphael x reader

Gif credit: isitdonproof

A/N: This would very much create a paradox in space and time, but fuck it. Let have some fun!❤️ Also, I know that BTTS aired in 2008, but April mentions that they have been gone for around a year, so I’ve set their return to their own timeline in 2007.

-----------------

Being punished with cleaning off Cody’s collection after an incident with Mikey, Raphael stumbles upon your diary from the past.

Warnings: Other than invasion of privacy, one that I can think of❤️

----------------

Raphael grumbled and cursed to himself as he dusted off the boxes around him, mumbling about how much he hated the future. He couldn’t believe he was the one that had to take the fall for this! It was Mikey that started it! Continuously poking that Helix game into his face, until Raph finally jumped on him to give him a beating. But Master Splinter wasn't having it, especially not in Cody’s penthouse. So Raph was the one that got punished with cleaning Cody’s collection.

Raphael wandered through Cody's collection of artifacts, recognizing quite a few of them. A samurai suit, some utrom technology and things from their lair. Some of them were more dusty than others, like the many books that once stood in Leonardo’s bedroom. Understandable. He didn’t even read them now in the future. But as he browsed through the items and boxes, one particular object caught his attention - a small, worn notebook. Raph frowned. He had never seen this before. Was it one of Donnie’s notebooks? Or one of his future ones? Raph did not know, so he opened it and looked at the first page.

Property of (Y/N) (L/N).

Raphael's heart skipped a beat. (Y/N). The name resonated with a sense of familiarity and warmth. You. One of his best friends left back home in 2006. Officially his best friend, yet he had dreamed of you to be so much more to him. He admitted it to himself long ago - he loved you. And to be standing there, 99 years in the future with your diary in his hand, he could not help but feel a slight pain in his heart. He missed you.

But to say that Raphael didn’t find himself curious about what the diary in his hand held, would be a lie. So with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, Raphael delved into the diary, turning to the first page.

19th of July, 2003. Dear diary You wouldn’t believe what just happened to me today. I’ve met four turtles! Four MUTANT turtles! Talking, walking on two feet, carrying weapons and doing ninja things! And get this, they are my age! How sick is that?! I know, I know, it’s hard to believe. Even I feared I had lost my mind for a moment, but they are as real as the page I’m writing on. And they are nice. They are sweet and funny and I hope I can see them again soon!

Raph felt a smile spread on his lips, remembering the day he and his brothers first met you. It had been a Friday night when you came to surprise your cousin April, not knowing she already had four mutant turtles and their rat father staying in her living room, using it as a hideout for a short time. Raph and his brothers would have stayed hidden away from you in April’s closet, had a bug not been crawling on Raph’s arm, causing him to burst through the door and directly into your face.

Raph felt his face get hot when he remembered that you actually caught the bug, and managed to calm him down, even though you were still shocked by the sudden surprise of a humanoid turtle in your cousin’s home. And that had been the starting point for Raphael’s growing feelings for you.

Raph flipped through the pages, skimming at the words, feeling curiosity growing. There were entries about battles fought and victories celebrated, about friendships forged and broken. Names he knew and names he had never heard of before. Someone from school or work mentioned once, just to never be mentioned again. Raphael's eyes widened as he read about your reflections on their encounters, realizing that his presence had left an impact on you just as you had on him. Raphael's cheeks warmed, and he couldn't deny the fluttering in his chest. You were not just a friend; you were someone he had held close in his heart, even if it was a secret he had kept buried beneath his tough skin. And even though it was wrong of him to be reading the words of your thoughts, he just couldn’t help himself.

In the quiet solitude of Cody's futuristic lair, Raphael found himself drawn not only to your words in your diary but to the feeling of being around you once more. He couldn't deny the impact your diary’s presents had on him, awakening emotions he had long kept guarded. Raph knew he would see you again one day, but he could not stop himself from missing you.

“How is the cleaning going, Raphael?”

Splinter’s voice from the doorway made Raph jump. Even with his graduation to Chunin coming up, Raph’s skills could not match his Master’s sneaking skills… especially not when he stood with his beak deep in your diary.

“Great, Master Splinter!”, Raph said, hiding your diary on the back of his shell. “Absolutely great!”

Splinter was quick to notice the way his son was standing. His smile on his face, along with the way his arms was bent to the back of his shell. Having been the one raising Raphael and his brothers for the past 18 years,  Splinter knew way too well how it looked when they tried to keep something from him. But knowing Raph’s hatred for the future, Splinter found it somewhat comforting that his son had found something he wished to keep hidden. To keep for himself. Maybe it was enough to make him more comfortable with their current situation.

“That sounds good”, Splinter said, taking in the somewhat cleaner state of Cody’s collection. There was only so much you could do with an almost hundred years old collection and an angry turtle. “I believe you’ve been punished enough for today, Raphael”.

Raph breathed a sigh of relief. After his father’s reaction to he and his brothers finding April and Casey's old journal, he feared what he would say, had he known about your diary in his hands. He thanked his Master before waiting for him to leave, so he could run to his room all while keeping the old worn book in his hand a secret.

Once Raph was sure he was alone and that none of his brothers would burst through the door, Raph turned to open your diary once more. With a page open he turned to look at the date.

29th of July 2006

Raph almost slammed your diary shut again. His hands trembled a bit. That was the day he and his brothers traveled to the future. The day they left you, April and Casey in the past, reminding him just how much he hated the future. Yet Raph did not leave your diary.

Raph’s heart broke a bit when he read your words. A whole year you were left in confusion before any of them returned home. You, Casey and April looked everywhere for them. Every place you had known for them to call home. You had searched in Casey’s farmhouse and Leatherhead’s lair. April had even traveled to Japan to ask the Ancient One, while Casey searched out of state, all while you stayed back, just in case they got home. A whole year, and nothing. April and Casey came home empty handed. No one knew where the turtle brothers and their father were.

Raphael continued flipping through the worn pages of your diary, his eyes scanning the entries searching for something he did not know how to describe. As he turned a page, he halted.

13th of September 2007

Raph knew he shouldn’t read it. Donnie has already told him and his brothers the dangers of meddling with their timelines, and how just being in the year 2105 could already have made unknown changes to their own future. But did Raph care about that? No. He already hated the future as it was, so making it worse would feel any different to him.

It happened! They are home! The boys are home! So much happened, and I don’t know where to start, but the most important part is that the boys are home and safe. April and Casey texted me and told me they had found them in the lair. And it was true! They were all there! Leo, Mikey, Donnie, Splinter and Raph. Speaking of Raph, it happened. It fucking happened. Finally it fucking happened!

Raph narrowed his eyes in confusion. What happened? Or… what will happen? - The fucking future thing was going to fry his brain one day.

Raphael kissed me!

Raphael's eyes widened as he absorbed the words on the page. The realization hit him like a tidal wave. He kissed you. He would kiss you! At some time in the future… or in the past… fuck that shit! He kissed you!

He did not say hey nor let his brothers say anything. He just walked straight over to me and kissed me! Just like that! In front of everyone! I will not lie and tell you that I didn’t want it, because in actuality, I did. I really wanted it, probably for way longer than I originally thought. I do really like Raphael, and it’s safe to say that he likes me as well.

His heart thudded in his chest as he read your words. You liked him? Just like he liked you? His hands shook as he tried to calm his breath. It was like an adrenaline bomb had hit him, making his heart raise even further.

Raph was tempted to read further. Turn to the next page and learn what would happen next. What words you would exchange and what actions the two of you would take. But just as he was about to turn the page, he decided against it. He already knew too much. Or maybe just enough. He now knew it was safe to kiss you when he turned home, and that you wouldn’t push him away nor fight against it. Learning more than that would take the excitement out of everything the two of you would do together.

Closing the diary with a mixture of awe and anticipation, Raphael couldn't help but smile. The knowledge that you harbored feelings for him, even if it was in a moment he had not yet experienced himself, filled him with warmth. And as he snuck out of his room to return your diary to Cody’s collection, he hoped that none of his brothers would notice him nor the little skip in his step.

Maybe the future wasn’t as bad as he had made it out to be.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M: WARNINGS: smut, blowjob, wife giving, husband receiving, arranged marriage, yada, yada, yada...

Before the Warring States and Tokugawa shogunate, archeologists estimated there were once 30,000 palaces and fortresses scattered throughout Japan. When Tokugawa Ieyasu’s power waned and the Meiji era rose to prominence, that figure dwindled to a gapping 200. And by the dawn of the 20th century, combined with the wake of World War II, and the quick, sudden death of the Japanese aristocracy, the loss of palatial infrastructure was so great that some palaces were either voluntarily dismantled or left for scrap.

The Cultural Property Preservation Law, thus upending the Kokuhō Hozon-hō of 1929, currently recognized 62 castle gates and 61 turrets across 27 estates as being Jūyō Bunkazai (重要文化財) or “Important Cultural Properties.” Of those 27 estates, seven “original” palaces held the designation, with five additional palaces bestowed the higher designation of “National Treasure.”

Like her seven proud sisters, Hirosaki Castle was one of the palaces designated an Important Cultural Property, and the most well-preserved castle in northern Japan. In the 400 years since her construction under the Tsugaru clan, she’d housed many a samurai and seen much of war. The beating heart of Hirosaki City, her plastered white walls, curved tiled roofs, and earthen ramparts had survived a devastating fire in 1627 from the likes of a lightning bolt striking the central tower, and was reduced from having a five level Tenshu to three come 1810. Her domain spanned across 124 acres and included a bailey containing five original yaguramon (tower gates), three towers, and a guardhouse, each with their own name and classification, which was now accessible to the public as a national park and museum. And, as with all major palaces, a large lake garden (originally moats) circumfretted the estate in Japanese maple and ginkgo and other local fauna.

None was this garden’s beauty more appreciated than in autumn, when late October favored the occasion for Hirosaki Castle’s Annual Chrysanthemum and Autumn Foliage Festival.

Hannah was ecstatic.

Their weekend trip to Hirosaki Castle would mark her very first festival. Satoru planned to take her during Obon - as its festivals were quite popular - but work got in the way and he’d been forced to depart on a last-minute mission, to his great reluctance. He figured it was time for a change in scenery, and the suffusion of chrysanthemums and flower decor was sure to suit Hannah’s fancy.

To his pure delight, she’d been buzzing in her seat the entire train ride. The journey from Tokyo to Hirosaki City took almost five hours by train, but granted onlookers the opportunity to capture Japan’s natural beauty. As a small gift, Satoru had bought Hannah a brand new Nikon camera, which she quickly put to use. Every few minutes or so, he’d sneak her snapping a picture of the passing autumnal mountainscape, tongue sticking out as she focused the lens, her hazel eyes wide and innocently transfixed. “Pretty,” he’d hear her whisper. The sight made his chest ease and his tummy flutter. This was what love felt like. Ugh, adorable.

The cute pink puffer jacket she wore and pom-pom hat shaped like a polar bear made her all the more adorable. The weather was forecasted to be quite cold. He had stuffed her mittens inside his coat pockets in case she needed them.

“Say cheese,” she sang, facing the camera towards him.

Satoru was in the middle of slurping a hot cocoa, he hadn’t had time to wipe his face before the Nikon went “click.”

Hannah couldn’t contain her giggle as she sat back down and showed him the result, gushing. Satoru leaned over her shoulder.

Yup, she got him good. The photo caught the Six Eyes wielder completely off guard, a blinking look of surprise marring his face, strewn with a mustache of whipped cream atop his upper lip. His oval sunglasses were sliding off his nose.

“Gotcha,” she gloated.

Satoru scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “You just got lucky,” and hurriedly swiped the cream off his lips.

Hannah beamed him a winning smile and giggled again, her freckled cheeks rosy as could be. She was really pretty when she smiled. It gave Satoru an idea.

“Hey, I got a better one for ya.” He dished out his phone and waved his finger. “C’mere.”

Hannah tilted her head, curious at what he was planning, but scooted on closer. Satoru took off his sunglasses and folded them in his lap. Protectively, she felt his arm drape over her shoulders, embracing her to him. Comfortable with their position, he then angled the phone in front of them and switched the camera to “selfie mode.” He sweetly rested his chin atop her head, smelling the lavender in her shampoo.

“Smile.”

Realizing now what he was up to, Hannah cuddled into him and smiled up at the camera.

His thumb tapped the button.

Wedded bliss frozen in time. The selfie had been their first taken as husband and wife. Their very first picture, on their way to Hannah’s very first autumn festival. Memories they’d look back on when they were old and grey, when life would become tough and the world a mess. But this. This was theirs to keep forever. A happiness no tragedy or disaster could upend. A marriage. A family.

“Not bad,” Satoru hummed.

“Yeah,” agreed Hannah, marveling at the Six Eyes, so nacreous and blue. Couldn’t replicate that color even if you tried. “We should have it framed when we get home. It can go on your nightstand.”

“Yeah.” This received her a loving peck on the cheek. “I’d like that. Good thinking. And Hannah?”

“Mmm?” she peered up at him.

He winked, showing her his camera screen again, this time with a picture of him having just kissed her cheek.

“Gotcha.”

One of the five go-sekku, Chrysanthemums festivals were first introduced to Japan via China, who venerated the autumn flower for its timeless beauty and medicinal properties. It was believed steeping the petals in a hot tea could elongate one's life and cure aches and pains. For that reason, it was popular for palaces and Buddhist shrines to plant mums in gardens. The Imperial Seal of Japan, stamped on every passport and royal document, also bore the bloom as its emblem, and many poets and artists used the herbaceous flora for inspiration. Some restaurants even utilized the petals as a garnish when serving sashimi.

Hannah knew mums belonged to the Asteraceae family, placing them in the same grouping as daisies, dahlias, and zinnias. In fact, a lesser known name for a chrysanthemum was a “florist’s daisy.” They came in a variety of cultivars and colours; mostly reds, yellows, and purples, some with long, spider-like petals that stretched outwards like sea anemones, others more compact with tightly-round layers reminiscent of doll faces. Cheerey as could be.

The Hirosaki Castle gardens were rife with them, exhibiting a magnanimous array of species and shapes. Atsumono. Kudamono. Ichimonji. Every variant one could think of. Hannah took her time admiring the flower beds, zooming her camera to capture the perfect photo.

They departed for Hirosaki Castle immediately after checking into their inn. Satoru didn’t want a place too far and optioned for a location within walking distance; a ryokan owned by a kind elderly couple 15 mins from the castle. They took their key, dropped their bags, and arrived at the castle by early afternoon, more than enough time to enjoy the festival and eat lunch.

“A lot of people here today,” Hannah commented when they crossed the palace gates. She was right. There were a lot of people, but Satoru said it only elevated the experience. The more the merrier.

At least, that’s what he told her. In truth, this was no time to slack off. Hannah has to stay with you at all times, rang Nanami’s voice. The Six Eyes wielder scanned the area for any potential adversaries. It already bothered him that a pair of perverted young men, who were clearly from the countryside and had never seen a foreigner before, were taking random snapshots of his wife without her knowledge. He’d issued them the most menacing glare. Get lost. The tourists would catch the flash of his eyes and immediately hightail it in the other direction. That’s right, dweebs, keep your dicks in your pants. She’s mine.

They toured the rows of chrysanthemum gardens. Horticulturists had weaved storytelling into that year’s displays. Lifesize dolls, covered head to toe in real flowers, brought to life many of the folktales passed down by tradition, including historic figures like Lord Tsuguru walking amongst the flowers, he too partaking in the festivities like his subjects, katana strapped to his waist.

The most striking red maples Satoru had ever seen cloaked the surrounding forest in fire, made more intense by the brightness of the autumn sun. At night, spotlights would illuminate the maples, so only the scarlet leaves were visible amongst the shadows, making the viewing more memorable for garden enthusiasts. They’d be sure to return come sunset to see for themselves.

For a low admission fee, Hirosaki Castle could be seen up close and toured on the inside. Except, upon arriving, the size of the castle bore little semblance to what they imagined.

“It’s so tiny,” Hannah squealed, pretending to squish the castle between her fingers. “How cute.”

“Kind of a let down,” Satoru muttered. He had yet to see the castle in person until now.

Hannah took his hand. “I wanna go in, c’mon.”

This was easier said than done. Standing 6’3 had its drawbacks. The door leading inside the castle was so squat and narrow, Satoru had to bow half-way to fit through, while his wife sauntered in like it was made for her. The castle’s interior was nothing special (in his opinion), just a gift shop and a video detailing the current renovations plans. However, there was an alarmingly steep flight of stairs with a red warning sign nailed to the wall. Satoru was close to having a mini heart attack, watching his wife hobble up the creaking wooden boards. He kept a ready hand on her bum, following close behind. The way down was more perilous, him holding onto her hand afraid she’d slip and roll an ankle. By the time they’d finished roaming the small castle, Satoru felt he had a permanent crick in his back.

The boat ride was much more relaxing. He and Hannah boarded a little isobune, oarred by a retired fisherman, who glided them around the moat. The cascade of falling orange and gold leaves landing atop the water was breathtaking as they passed under a red bridge, and the unshaded sun felt good on their faces, despite the chilly weather. Hannah rested her head along Satoru’s arm and closed her eyes, listening to the water churn against the oar and a lark singing in the distance. The world at peace.

They ate rice balls and fish sticks and caramelized apples from a vendor parked along the garden path. Then finished their day with scouting the nursery where visitors could buy bushels of chrysanthemums and ornate bonsai. Hannah was tempted, but thought the chrysanthemums they had back home were better.

At last, the sun dipped behind the northern mountains. The Gojo couple stuck around to take pictures of the illuminated maple trees. The pathway had become so dark. It was difficult to see anything other than the red and gold leaves. The rest was pitch black.

“Oh, Satoru. Look at these.” Hannah raced towards a group of maples she’d spotted.

There was a rustling noise. Unsettling laughter.

“You could do it, Satoru…The impossible.”

Satoru hurriedly whipped around.

“Even that has meaning…”

But saw nothing. No one was there. The wind. Perhaps it was the wind. Yes, it was only the wind.

“Satoru?” Hannah called concernedly from ahead.

Deep breaths, Satoru. He was hearing things. It was all in his head. The Six Eyes would’ve seen him.

“Yeah, coming, sweetheart.”

That night they laid together in bed, skin to skin. It was smart of them to eat when they did. Most restaurants were closed by the time they arrived back at their ryokan. Hannah was busy massaging his hands, running her little fingers over the minuscule scars and toughened calluses, relieving the tension in his joints. Felt good.

“Have you always liked being a giant?” she mused, halting her massage to splay her palm over his, not even half its size.

He grinned at her hyperbole, giving off a meager shrug. “There’s advantages, I guess. Makes me faster, stronger, but it also attracts unwanted attention. I can’t hide for shit.”

“True,” Hannah stipulated. “You do tend to stand out in a crowd.”

“Mmhm.” He absentmindedly began twisting the gold wedding band on her finger. Part of him contemplated whether buying her a diamond ring to go with it. Like they do in the movies.

“But I’d say you wear it rather well.”

He stopped twisting and huffed tiredly. “Not much choice in that regard. For me, it’s either fear the spotlight or embrace it. There's really no third option.”

Hannah planted a reassuring kiss on his chest near his heart.

“What about you?” he countered. “How have you liked being a mouse?”

She took slight umbridge at that. “I’m not a mouse.”

“Fine, a very cute mouse.”

She swatted him lightly before returning her head to his chest. “I suppose it has its upsides.” Her voice held a somber note as she traced his pectorals.”I can fade into the background whenever I want. No one cares if I’m here or there…”

He sensed she hadn’t finished. “But?”

“But that’s just it. No one cares what happens to a nobody.”

He brought the dainty hand tracing his muscles to his lips, kissing its knuckles.

“Try convincing me of that.”

Hannah smiled, thinking he was too good to be true and any moment she’d wake up from this dream. After so many years living a barely-there existence, this sense of belonging, of being wanted, was more than her prayers could answer. What a blessing to have this man in her life, despite the political circumstances surrounding their union. He deserved everything for making her this happy. She would gladly give what little she had, be it words or her body.

A titillating warmth pooled inside her stomach, spreading between her thighs, desirous and hungry, not quite satiated by their earlier round of sex. Propping herself on her elbows, her lips sought the company of his own. He welcomed them greedily, tongue slipping inside her mouth to lean in deeper for a taste. A languid moan hovered on the edge of her throat as she rolled her body on top of him, begging to be nearer, closer.

Satoru’s hands cupped her ass, kneading the soft flesh like mounds of dough. He too stifled a groan as her lips broke away and began trailing hot, steamy kisses down his neck, sucking and licking his collarbone. The hands cupping her bare ass squeezed harder as she worked her way towards his nipple, giving it a few teasing flicks. She lowered her hands, letting them run over the contour of his abs, down, down, down. He felt the jolt of electricity percolate through his spine to the very tip of his penis, pulsing incessantly.

Damn, she was learning fast, he thought, having recently confessed his secret like for nippie action. He reckoned he was rock solid now.

“Saaa~tor~uuuu,” she sang.

Holy fuck, and that voice. She could trick him into committing mass murder with that angel-sweet voice. The sway it had over him. Seemed like only yesterday she was standing in her wedding kimono, stuttering, too nervous to make eye contact till he forcibly grabbed her chin. Her confidence had since skyrocketed. For lack of a better analogy, she was playing him like a finely-tuned fiddle and he was powerless to fight her.

“Hannah,” he moaned, once her hand reached under to cup his balls. He surrendered a sharp gasp. She weighed them in her palm, gyrating them slowly just as he instructed her, careful not to hurt him.

“Yes, darling?” Her other hand reached over to grip the hard length of his cock, pressing loving circles into the base with her thumb. Then, gentle as a lamb, pulling it downwards, unfurling the delicate foreskin to reveal the slick head underneath.

For fuck’s sake.

“Is this alright, love?” she purred amorously. “Do you want me to stop?”

Only then did he realize he was short of breath.

“No,” he panted. “Never.”

Hannah held a serene, sated look on her face, not the kind born of selfish lust or sheer dominance, but of total adoration. “Okay then.” She pecked him on the lips for good luck and joined her thumb and index together just as he taught her, hovering them inches above his erection. “Ready?”

He gulped once and gave a swift nod. The hand came down.

His moans were immutable by that point, though, frankly, he didn’t give a shit. Because each second of his wife’s goddess-like touch, her magic fingers stroking his cock up and down, brought him closer to heaven.

“I know you’ve been stressed lately,” she soothed between strokes. “Just tell me when, darling.”

Boy, wasn’t that the truth. The threat of Suguru’s reemergence placed everyone on alert. The higher-ups were relentless in their tyranny, working Satoru to the bone. He’d been dispatched on three high-level missions last week spanning across the country, when all he wanted to do was sleep, eat mochi ice cream, and make hot love to his wife. On the surface he made it look easy, but on the inside he longed for a break.

That’s what he loved most about Hannah. She always knew. He didn’t have to lie and don the mask.

Her strokes grew faster.

For a brief moment, Satoru thought his soul tore in two. He was barely conscious of his surroundings. Planet Earth? Where’s that? All that remained was his wife’s melodic voice and the orgasm preparing to take over and exit his body. He felt the tension surmount in his groin, jizz funneling up his balls, waiting for its queue to shoot. His breathing quickened, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

Knowing he was close, Hannah sat up criss-cross on the bed and scooted herself in, wrapping his long legs around her waist to hold him steady, giving him perfect view of her breasts. Finding the position more comfortable, she continued stroking his cock in her lap like a clay potter, hands working and wringing him in. He couldn’t speak, or think straight. Soon his hips started to buck on their own accord.

“That's it, Satoru. Easy now.”

She didn’t have to do anything except keep her hands still. Nature would take care of the rest, the receptors in his brain telling his spine to “giddy up.”

His thrusts began to readily excelerate, going faster in conjunction with the volition of his climax, the back-and-forth friction causing Hannah’s hand to grow shockingly hot. She caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, the darkness of his cock. He grunted hard with each snap of his pelvis.

At once, his thrusts slowed, and then on the count of three, his hips jilted upwards for a grand finish.

He bellowed out her name as the orgasm tore through him, streams of thick jissom gushing over his stomach in quick bursts. Hannah continued pumping, squeezing out as much as she could, relishing the triumph of his release soiling her bare hands, keeping him going until he’d run on empty.

Considering how much they’d been making love, she was surprised he lasted as long as he did.

Hannah’s pumping lessened as his breathing gradually returned to normal, his senses coming to.

“Stay put,” she hushed, granting him a celebratory kiss. “I’ll go fetch you a towel.”

“Uh huh,” he groused, every muscle in his legs and groin feeling tingky and loose, brain lost in a fog. His tongue was like lead. He could barely form a sentence.

Brushing a stray lock of white hair from his face, Hannah left to go find him a clean towel.

Weakly, Satoru managed to glance down at the mess he had made on his thighs and stomach. He released a winded sigh as his head hit the pillow, then broke into a rich, hearty laugh. And to think this was now his new normal.

“Yare, yare.”

The couple decided to explore more of the city the next day. Satoru knew all the best spots in town, having frequented Hirosaki on countless missions. The city was small, a population of 180,000 or less, but held rich history regarding samurai and the Fujita family, making it notorious for curse incidents. Satoru couldn’t begin to recall how many strangers would come across a random cursed object; a sword, or an arrow head, stupidly get the idea to touch it, then wind up dead on the road somewhere for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Always sucked when the victims were children.

Anyway, no need to relive those memories. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...

Hannah wanted to visit another garden - cause of course she did - and peruse the local shops. Great.

But first, breakfast.

Satoru discovered Cafe Buruman three summers ago while on the hunt for some shaved ice. He didn’t find the ice (sadly), but did sample a delicious raspberry tartlet and a frappuccino. And it was located right next to their ryokan, which may have not been accidental.

The cafe had a traditional charm to it, evident by its cypress furnishings and a rare selection of Okura Pottery bowls shelved behind the bar counter. Stored inside glass cabinets were other fine china pieces, some of which were available for purchase. Classical music played elegantly in the background. Hannah was smitten the moment they entered the door.

They placed their orders; Hannah, a fruit parfait and peach tea; Satoru, a chocolate tartlet and white mocha latte, and picked a table over by the window.

“I received an invitation the other day,” Hannah said once they were seated and their food arrived.

Satoru picked up his spoon. “Oh? From who?”

“Lady Kamo Hatsumomo.”

The spoonful of tartlet, having just reached his mouth, nearly rolled off his tongue in disgust.

Hannah took it as a bad sign. “I’m guessing you don’t like her?”

“Like her?” he said, chewing his tartlet. “The woman’s a psycho. I know her as the eldest sister of Lord Kamo. She thinks the jujutsu world’s main purpose in life is to uphold its most antediluvian precepts.”

“Antediluvian.” Hannah brightened. “There’s your word of the day.”

Satoru smirked. “I have my moments. The point is, she despises anyone who doesn’t conform to her narrow set of beliefs.”

“And me being a foreigner probably doesn’t help,” Hannah suspected.

Her husband frowned. “I doubt it.”

“Why would she invite me to her house then?”

Satoru too wondered this. On the one hand, it made perfect sense to invite Hannah as she was his wife and therefore carried great influence, but even so. Hatsumomo was no friend to non-sorcerers, especially when it came to foreigners. He remembered Ichiro’s banishment from the family for marrying Kumari.

But unable to find a satisfactory answer as to why, he reached across the table. “Remember, you don’t have to accept," and took Hannah’s hand. “It’s your call.”

Hannah sighed and stared down at their hands. “We’ll see."

That was good enough for Satoru. The Six Eyes wielder went back to sipping his latte then looked over, staring out through the glass window. His best friend stood on the sidewalk, waving candidly at him, same long jet-black hair, black shirt, black sweatpants...

Wait, what now?

Satoru squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, opening them back up to see an empty street.

Just his mind playing dirty tricks again.

“Everything alright?” Hannah’s eyes were slightly tainted with worry.

“I’m fine,” Satoru replied, offering her a curt smile, running his thumb over her knuckles.

It was all in his head. Nothing more.

Yup, he was perfectly fine.

Chapter Contents