#somehow through taking the pieces of myself and turning them into something new i learned to love myself

[lunieloon]

IT'S TIME

The 2024 Lunieverse Poster is done!!!!

Featuring a whopping 74 characters that are all seen in the Lunieverse: Battle for Human History Arc. This poster took a little under 21 hours to make and is by far the best poster yet XD. Here's to next year! Hopefully no more ocs become essential to the plot like all these!!

Previous Years (2023-2021) under the cut!!!

2023

Late 2021/2022

2021! The First One 😅

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 10

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Ao3

[Warning for reference to sexual activities, fairly brief]

-

Robin watches Steve walk past the “Action” section with an armful of Schwarzenegger films three times before she says anything.

“You’re distracted today.”

“Hm?” Steve looks up at her, snapping out of whatever vacant thought he’d slipped away into and entirely proving her point. “Sorry, what?”

“Distracted. You.” Robin points down the correct aisle. “The Terminator and his ilk go down there.”

Steve shakes his head. “Right, sorry.”

Following him over, Robin leans against the end of the shelf while Steve sorts through cases that Robin knows have already been organized. “So what’s got your head in the clouds?”

Steve is quiet for a moment longer. He doesn’t seem unhappy – he seems lighter, actually. He’s not in the same weirdly good mood he’s been in for the last week, but he’s a little more settled, so whatever it is, Robin figures it can’t be bad.

Finally, he glances around the store (it’s empty; Sunday nights hardly even require two employees once the afternoon rush has died out, but Robin won’t complain about being paid to sit around and do nothing for a while), and then says, “Eddie and I are dating. Like, for real this time. I think.”

The words come out in a bit of a rush, and it takes Robin a moment to decide that, yes, she’d heard them correctly.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is exactly as pointed as she’d meant it to be, if the way Steve winces at the question is any indication.

“The last you told me, you two were ‘talking about it’ and ‘taking it slow.’” Air quotes are heavily employed to illustrate Robin’s new skepticism.

“And we were!” Steve says quickly.

“That was, like, two weeks ago, Steve!” Robin says. “That is not slow!”

“Well it’s not like we just jumped into it! We did talk, and we went on a couple of dates–”

“What? When? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

“I mean, the first was last weekend, so–”

Robin gasps, jabbing a finger at Steve. “You lied to me!”

“I did not,” Steve insists, pointing a finger right back at her, though it doesn’t have quite the same effect with one arm still full of clunky plastic cases.

“You did! You asked me to take your shift because, and I quote, you were going to do something for yourself,” Robin shoots back.

“And I did! I gave myself the chance to see where this thing with Eddie was going,” Steve says.

“Or, you gave yourself the chance to fall right back into the same pattern that hurt you before,” Robin says.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s different this time,” he says, more quietly.

“How?” Robin demands. “Because ‘dating for real this time, I think,’ doesn’t sound that different.”

“I mean, we didn’t say the word dating, exactly, but…” Steve shifts a little on his feet, but stands firm. “He told me that he loves me.”

“Uh huh,” Robin drawls. “And was that before or after you slept together?”

She regrets it the moment she says it, regrets it the moment the words form and she knows they’re going to come out, but it’s too late. She can see the flash of genuine hurt on Steve’s face before he buries it beneath a layer of cool indifference.

“We didn’t actually have sex, but thanks for the vote of confidence,” he bites out, turning and rounding to the next aisle.

Shit.

No one who Robin has personally seen tear a monster in half with his bare hands (feet?) has any right to look as much like a kicked puppy as Steve does, but he somehow manages it.

And the thing is, she knows how important that is to him – for someone to say the words out loud. She’s learned about his parents in bits and pieces; she even eventually got the full scoop on Nancy. She just– she worries. And when she worries, she says things before she really thinks them through.

Sighing, Robin walks around to the next aisle, finding Steve kneeling and paying entirely too much attention to the stacks of cases in front of him. When her slow approach isn’t rebuffed, she sinks down on the floor next to him, cross-legged with her back facing the shelf.

“I’m sorry. That was a cheap shot,” she says.

Steve shrugs.

“If it helps, it wasn’t directed at you,” Robin goes on. “I just– I really don’t have any reason to trust Eddie’s motives, and I don’t like it when you’re sad, and it’s my job as your best friend to look out for you and be mad at people on your behalf. Especially if you’re not going to be mad at them yourself.”

“Isn’t it also your job as my best friend to trust me and my judgment? And, like, support me when I’m doing something that’ll make me happy?” Steve asks quietly, a little dry.

“I guess,” Robin groans, leaning to the side so that her cheek is pillowed on the round of Steve’s shoulder. “But come on. If some girl made me cry, are you telling me you’d get over it in a snap?”

Robin can feel Steve tense beneath her for a moment, and she absolutely knows he’s thinking about lying to her.

“That’s different,” he finally says.

“It really isn’t, you big goddamn hypocrite.” Robin doesn’t bother to hide her smile, even as she smacks Steve on the back, ignoring the whiny ‘ow’ he gives her for it. “So tell me about the date.”

“Which one?” Steve asks.

“The first one. Must’ve been pretty good for you to agree to another,” Robin says.

“It… really was, actually.” Steve shifts carefully out of his crouch, giving Robin enough time to sit up before he settles onto the floor in front of her, back to the opposite shelf. “I mean, it was weird at first. He took me out to some random neighborhood and then we walked a little ways into the woods.”

“Creepy,” Robin says.

“A little bit, yeah.” Steve nods. “And then we came to this little, like, forgotten park? Had some playground equipment and a gazebo. And when we got there, he told me to turn around, so I couldn’t see what he was doing.”

“Creepier.” Robin wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah, but I was curious, so I did it.” Steve shrugs and Robin snorts at him. “But when he let me turn back around, he’d uh – he had a bunch of candles lit up all around the gazebo? It was… really nice. And he brought dinner – something he cooked. Like, with one of the recipes I taught him.”

Robin’s brows go up, reluctantly impressed. “Damn, alright, point to Munson, that was pretty good,” she admits.

“It was,” Steve says with this dumb, smitten little grin that Robin will absolutely tease him about later.

“Okay, okay, so he picked up on you being a romantic, that’s great, but,” Robin holds her hands out in front of herself in an emphatic sort of ‘here’s the thing’ gesture, “where was all of this before?”

“Right?” Steve bursts out, flinging his arms out in front of himself, narrowly avoiding knocking into one of Robin’s hands. “Thank you! I’m not crazy for wondering that!”

“Of course you’re not,” Robin says, narrowing her eyes at him. “He didn’t tell you that you were, did he?”

“No, no, he– he didn’t.” Steve quickly shakes his head. “I just… I don’t know, I felt like I was being kind of unreasonable, I guess. Like, maybe for wanting any of that at all. Or wondering why he didn’t do it sooner.”

“You’re not,” Robin says again. “You deserve to get what you want, Steve.”

“Yeah, that’s what Eddie keeps saying.” Steve sighs, leaning his head back against the shelf.

“Well… good,” Robin says, a mildly reluctant concession. Maybe Eddie’s getting on the right page after all.

“He says he wants me to tell him when I need something,” Steve says. “Like… he wants me to talk to him.”

“What, about your feelings?” Robin asks, playfully wrinkling her nose. “Gross.”

“The worst,” Steve agrees drily, but he looks pleased, and a little thoughtful. Robin gives him the minute to think, before he says, “I did kind of blow up at him, though. Before that.”

“Good,” Robin laughs, nudging his knee with hers.

“It did sort of feel good,” Steve admits, glancing down through his lashes at Robin. “Just… to kinda get it all out.”

“What happened then?” Robin asks.

“Well, it’s – last night kind of went sideways,” Steve says. “It was supposed to be another date, but…”

“But…?”

“He just – when we were having dinner last weekend, he kept calling it our first date, and it was, but it also wasn’t? I kept thinking about what I thought was our first date.”

“Wait, was that the time in your car out by the quarry?”

Steve lifts his head up so he can shift the full brunt of his scrunched look of disapproval onto her. “No, hooking up in my car out by the quarry was not our first date. That didn’t happen until later.”

“Well it’s not like I have timestamps on these things, Steve!” Robin groans.

“It was that night at the diner,” Steve says, and Robin’s mouth falls into a little “oh” of recognition.

“The diner.” She nods.

It’s obvious in retrospect; Robin has heard everything about that night and then some, from the way Eddie had managed to get ketchup everywhere to “and he can do this thing with his tongue, even I didn’t know you could do that, but I’m gonna try and figure it out, it was so good–” (Robin had teasingly asked him if he’d need to practice on a peach or a banana, and he’d thrown a handful of balled-up receipts at her before deciding “both”).

“But he wanted me to tell him about it, so I did, and then last night, for our date, he took me to the diner,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows at Robin.

“What?” Robin’s eyebrows scrunch down in answer. “Did he think he just gets a do-over?”

“That’s what I asked!” Steve says, before subsiding a bit. “But I don’t… I really don’t think he thought that far ahead. I think he just wanted us both to have, like, some kind of special memory there.”

Robin hums, squinting at Steve skeptically.

“Anyway, I kinda yelled at him and I left, but then he actually came and found me,” Steve continues.

“Where did you go?” Robin asks.

“The lake.”

“Why were you all the way out there?”

Steve grimaces. “Mostly because I knew he doesn’t like going out there.”

Robin snorts, and Steve’s grimace shifts into a guilty sort of smile.

“But he came out there, anyway. And we talked, and– I really think he means it, Rob,” Steve says, looking at her like he needs her to believe it, too. Or at least like he needs her to believe him.

Robin sighs, letting her head fall back slowly, as if she’s deflating. “Fine,” she says eventually. “Munson is off death row. He can have a parole hearing.”

“I think you’re getting a little too into this whole execution metaphor,” Steve says.

“You’re both lucky I didn’t decide to make it literal,” Robin shoots back, and Steve laughs. “So, wait,” she looks back up, “you seriously haven’t had sex again? Since the whole…?”

“Oh my god, get this: he actually walked me to my door last weekend,” Steve says, halfway between incredulous and amused. “He didn’t even ask to come inside. Said the rule is to wait until the third date.”

“Oh, I bet you loved that,” Robin teases.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have said no if he had asked to come in,” Steve scoffs. “But I’m… kind of glad he didn’t. It was different.”

Robin smiles. “Different is promising,” she says, reaching out to pat Steve on the knee. “Now come on; we close in, like, half an hour and I don’t want to stay late cleaning.”

“Yeah, alright,” Steve agrees, hoisting himself off the floor before offering Robin a hand up.

“Also, you owe me dinner for all the secrecy,” Robin declares, heading back towards the front of the store with the intent of putting the counter back in order.

“What?” Steve groans. “I already spent, like, two weeks with literally no one to talk to about all of this. Haven’t I suffered enough?”

“Nope,” Robin says, and for all she can hear him grumbling, it only takes a minute before Steve is standing next to her again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Sap,” she mutters, putting arm around his waist and squeezing him back.

“And yet, who agreed to be my best friend?” Steve asks.

Robin sighs. “I did,” she says, and she doesn’t even have to look to know that Steve’s grin mirrors hers.

Part 11

-

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[kage-567]

Sukugo fic recs because it's a scarcity

So I noticed there were a very few sukugo fic recs around here, as a fellow fan myself, this simply cannot stand so I decided to add to the contribution. Here you go folks (for anyone who hasn't read them already).

A funny thing happened on the way to therapy

Satoru Gojo is no stranger to challenge. He’s faced off against hordes of curse users, defeated the strongest of cursed spirits, laughed in the face of reality’s limits and defied even death itself. But this…This new challenge could perhaps be the most difficult yet—infinitely worse than all the others combined:

Couple’s therapy.

——

After a highly experimental cursed technique goes wrong (right?), Satoru and Sukuna become fathers to a miracle child, Yuuji. Of course, the higher-ups in Jujutsu society are not impressed, and in a desperate bid to protect Yuuji from harm, Satoru comes up with a plan so crazy that it just might work: a fake relationship. With Sukuna.

Maybe Satoru should’ve thought this through.

Infinite Nuisance

“I’m blocked from interacting with the world beyond this Domain so I cannot relay any of this to the Brat. Something clearly wants you trapped in here,” Sukuna scoffed. “I cannot fathom why.”

Gojo’s lips quirked up into a smirk.

“Maybe a punishment from the Gods?” he suggested coyly.

Sukuna rolled his eyes.

“I would never punish myself in this way, so I doubt that."

Gojo blinked at him once. Then twice, before a startled laugh escaped him.

“Did you just call yourself God?”

- When a strange incident leads to Gojo being trapped along with the King of Curses in Sukuna's Innate Domain, what everyone assumes would lead to destruction surprisingly grows into something more.

As Sukuna and Gojo are forced to interact and learn more about each other, they realise that hatred isn't the only tie that binds them.

And, as Sukuna quickly realises, he is far from prepared for the unlikely temptation that is Gojo Satoru.

So someone with your eyes might come in time. To hold me like water. Or Christ, hold me like a knife.

Looking into the face of his future opponent, the face of his soulmate, Sukuna was struck by the thought that this moment, this one night of honesty between him and Gojo, was their Goodbye.

Despite what the future might hold, despite who they were and where their respective paths were taking them, they deserved a proper farewell.

Or, at the very least, Gojo did.

When in Doubt, Buy Him a Brand New Lamborghini

Satoru Gojo had everything he wanted in life.

His father is the CEO of a multi-million dollar company. His face is nothing short of perfection. He's popular and charismatic. Everyone wants a piece of him, whether or not its for his looks and money. He's the perfect man in every sense possible. So why is it that the only light of his life, his precious boyfriend and his one and only lover, decided to dump him without warning and leave him at his best?

Out of misery, Gojo decides to agree when his dear friend Shoko suggests they go to a street takeover. What he doesn't expect is to find unexpected joy in the commotion of it all. And within that commotion emerges Ryomen Sukuna, a racecar drifter who might just turn his entire life around.

You know what they say: When one door closes, another opens.

____

OR: Gojo falls head over heels for street car racer Sukuna after getting dumped in front of his local KFC.

Like Fire and Oil

Now in full view, Satoru could see that the boy had strange black markings on his forehead and cheeks, as well as a second pair of eyes below his normal one. With every approaching step, he was seeming less and less human.

“You’re…”

And while Satoru didn’t know how it could be possible, while he didn’t know what this King of Curses looked like or even quite remembered his name, somehow he just knew. Somehow, everything clicked.

“Sukuna.”

Stopping just a few steps in front of him, Sukuna smirked, baring a set of sharp teeth.

“And what if I am, Six Eyes?”

---

Sometimes the universe makes it so that when a force of great power is born, a force of equal power is created to counter it. This is a story about those two forces colliding more than a decade earlier than intended, and how sometimes unlikely circumstances result in even more unlikely friends.

[NOTE: There won’t be any ships in this fic, with the sole exception being potentially hinted Satoguru. All other benevolent relationships are platonic.]

The Fox Unaware of the Snare

"You intrigue me, sorcerer." Sukuna says. "Let us create a Binding Vow."

Binding Vows were useful as they were deadly. He'd regret it, should he accept to do so. But Gojo has never done anything without knowing he couldn't handle it, so why did it matter?

"Why not? Tell me your terms first."

Considering that, as long as he lived, no mortal force could ever convince Gojo on what to do.

After losing a fight with Sukuna, Gojo fulfills the Binding Vow and becomes his concubine, as odd as it sounds. And maybe it's just the constant dance with death that Gojo ends up falling for someone who is the very epitome of the word itself. Unfortunately, it comes with consequences much worse than teaching a human who's known nothing but the shadows how to love.

(Or, Gojo roamed the earth back during the Heian Era. This changes many courses of events.)

Teachings of love

They say the Reversed Curse Technique works as long as the head isn't severed. Gojo has come back once before, what is to say it wouldn't happen a second time? After all, throughout Heaven and Earth, he alone is the Honored One.

With the Hands of Gold

Satoru survives the Battle of the Strongest; the King of Curses heals him, and as a result, Satoru loses his memories. His survival means many things and causes many things.

|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|

[adverbally]

God…. Thinking about that fic you posted about Steve going into subspace and Eddie misunderstanding and just leaving him by himself in the middle of nowhere - that wrecked me!!!! Such good good angst (I have long wordy thoughts, please ignore if it’s too much!!)

Thinking about Steve somehow stumbling back to his car and his house in a haze and not being able to explain why he feels so awful the next few days, and deciding to shove everything in a box and bury it

Eddie and Steve avoid each other until s4 happens. Eddie slowly lowering his walls and realising that steve is a good guy, if not one of the best and starts paying attention, starts putting together the pieces of all the shit Steve’s been through and vows to be there, to be the one take care of him

Maybe one day in the future, after they’ve been drinking - Steve being tipsy and loose from the liquor - finally lets himself flirt with the pretty boy his been pining after again.

And maybe while they flirt, Eddie brings up their last time together, and Steve lets it slip, how he felt - the floaty haze, the cold shock, the bad feeling that dragged after, trying to laugh off how it was probably insecure jock behaviour, how stupid it was that he sat around that lake for ages, how he felt drunk getting back to his car, back home - that is was good he was alone so no one could see him fumble.

Steve watching in real time as Eddie’s grin slowly drops, his face turning paler than he’s ever seen, only stopping at most broken, whispered “Steve” he’s ever heard.

Just,,,, of all the stuff Steve’s been through, steve puts it on the back burner bc he chalks it up to them being young and stupid but it just… wrecks Eddie for a while

I can’t believe you came in my askbox and hurt my feelings about my own fic like this 😭

But seriously, I love talking about this stuff so feel free to come off anon and message me! 💕

I hope you enjoy this little fix-it follow up to You Tattered Me, You Tethered Me to You based on this amazing idea. (And I think this is my first askbox fic?! I’m so excited!)

———

Steve’s face is already warm from drinking but the way Eddie is looking at him makes his cheeks flare even hotter. It’s embarrassing, remembering how clingy he had been, how he had wanted that closeness while also being ashamed of it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie interrupts. “You never… I didn’t realize that’s what happened. I thought you were having some sexuality crisis, not…” He sighs, floundering for the right words through the haze of alcohol. “I should’ve seen what was going on and taken care of you.”

“What?” Steve scoffs. “Why should you have to babysit me just because I couldn’t pull myself together?”

So Eddie explains subspace and sub drop to him, answering all of Steve’s questions to the best of his ability. It makes Steve’s head swim, learning about a whole new world that he never knew existed, but Eddie is so patient with him. It hurts, too, finally having the words to ask for what he needed, long after he needed them.

“Well, I guess now you know for next time. If it happens again.” Eddie won’t look Steve in the eye, just fiddles with the rings on his left hand.

Steve pauses. It seems like a risk, being honest here, but the booze is making him brave and Eddie is so beautiful in the warm light of Steve’s kitchen. “It hasn’t happened since then. Just with you,” he confesses. Saying it out loud feels more intimate than Eddie fucking him had.

“Oh.” Eddie looks more shocked than anything. “That’s… flattering. Thanks,” he says softly, glancing at Steve from the corner of his eye with a small smile.

“Is that weird?” Steve is immediately prodding him, trying to gauge what that reaction means. “Like, do you think it means something?”

Eddie takes a long sip of his beer like he’s steeling himself for something. Gathering his courage. “I don’t know that it’s weird, per se. And I can’t tell you what your feelings are, but I think maybe…” He sighs, thumbnail picking at the corner of the label sweating off the beer bottle. “Maybe you let yourself get that deep because you trusted me. Maybe you haven’t felt that with someone since then.”

Steve wishes Eddie would look at him, really look at him. “Yeah, maybe. I thought you knew what you were doing and I let you take the lead because I hadn’t, um, been with a guy before. So I guess that takes trust.”

“I was a drug dealer hooking up with you in my shady van,” Eddie snorts. “Your self-preservation instincts could use some work.”

“Or I could just tell that you’re a good guy,” Steve fires back. “You gotta stop putting yourself down like that.”

Eddie is staring at him now. His eyes are wide and dark and shiny.

“I trust you, Eddie. I know it for a fact now, after everything that happened in March. I know that you wanna protect people and do the right thing. And you take shit so other people don’t have to, and you don’t hide who you are, and you made me feel so…” Steve rubs his forehead in frustration when the words don’t come fast enough. “I don’t know, it wasn’t just a subspace thing that time. I knew you were gonna take care of me as soon as we kissed.”

“Steve.” Eddie looks gobsmacked.

“I could be about to ruin our friendship right now, but I really like you.” He sounds pathetic to his own ears, pleading with Eddie to hear his words and feel the same. “I wanna let you take care of me, and I wanna take care of you right back.”

It catches Steve completely off guard when Eddie lunges forward and meets his lips in a sloppy kiss. It’s awkward and off-center, but it’s the best kiss Steve has ever had, especially when Eddie settles one hand on Steve’s hip and the other on his jaw and holds him close. He tastes like cigarettes and beer and a hint of cinnamon gum. Steve commits it to memory.

“I want that, too,” Eddie tells him, still so close that their noses are touching. “I want you.”

Their next kiss clacks when their grinning teeth collide.

[hierophant-meme]

Masquerading Hearts

Corazón x Reader

Part 2- "Enemy"

Read Part 1 here | Masterlist

Notes

This one can still kind of be read as its own piece, just read the part between the dash lines. There is no indication of reader's body type or gender in that section.

Also, I have no knowledge of first-aid so some stuff might be wrong. I just googled it :P

Content Contains: no y/n, gender-neutral pronouns, mentions of blood and bodily injury, mostly fluff but gets a bit angsty at the end, 1st-person POV

Reader: plus-sized, insecure

Summary: You help tend to Cora's wounds after an "enemy" stabs him

About a week later, a boy with grenades strapped to his body and white splotches appeared demanding that Doflamingo let him into the family. This kid was full of so much rage, I learned only after it was due to what happened in the town he was from and the disease he carried. 

At first, I was sure that Doffy would tell this kid to fuck off as he had done with many children and fools in the past. This kid though, was extremely stubborn. Somehow he always returned even after Cora kept launching him off the highest floor of the hideout. His persistence and rage seemed to win the captain over.

______________________________

Before the meeting to officially announce that the kid known as Trafalgar Law was to be a new family member, I was reading a book alone on a couch in the common room. The creaking of the door opening made me look up and I noticed Cora was walking slowly, hunched over, and clutching his lower abdomen. I was going to ignore it until I saw blood dripping on the floor.

“Holy shit, Cora! Did you fall? Did someone do that to you?” I got up from the couch and walked towards him. Even though he looked like a skyscraper standing next to me, I somehow managed to help keep his balance. He took out his notebook, wrote something, tore it out, and then showed it to me:

Enemy

“Oof. I know you’re careless but even you’re usually more careful than this. C’mon dumbass, let’s get you patched up.”

On our way to his room, I picked up a first-aid kit. Once we arrive at his room without either of us plummeting to the concrete floor, I tell him to sit down and help him take his enormous, fluffy coat off. I hesitated to get to the next part, but it had to be done.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands and find some rags really quick. Take off your shirt and I’ll be back to treat your injury.”

I didn't even look at him to see if he understood me. I quickly walked out of the room so he wouldn’t see my blushing face. I try to convince myself that I don’t have those kinds of feelings for him and I only blushed because it was rather awkward. As I’m washing my hands I look to find a moron as red as a tomato in the mirror. I don’t like him, I tell myself. There’s no point. I splash some cold water on my face to hopefully subdue the color. With a bowl filled with water in my hands, I then go search for a few rags and brace myself for the complete idiot I know I’m about to be anyway.

I turn to enter his room and make a sudden stop before entering. I couldn’t turn away from the sight in front of me. Sure, I knew he was fit, but I didn’t know he was completely shredded and covered in a collage of scars. Makes sense with all the training and fighting he has to do for missions… and the amount of times he’s face-planted on the floor and burned himself. He looks at his wound before looking up at me. I snap back to reality and remember that he’s probably in pain and I need to hurry the hell up. 

After dipping two of the rags I got in some water, I handed them to him and told him to apply pressure to both openings of his wound. Whoever did this sliced him all the way through but it seems that they miraculously didn’t hit any vital organs. But still, how is he not screaming in pain? I prepare an antiseptic solution and soak another rag with it.

“Just a heads up, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch, but I need to disinfect it. You ready?” He nods. I hand him a clean rag.

“If it hurts too much, bite down on this.” He takes it in between his teeth. He signals me to continue so I place the rag with the solution on the front opening of the gash.

On contact, he reached his left hand to my upper arm and dug in pretty deep. I looked up at him wincing in immense pain. I was alright with him grabbing on to me at first but his grip was so strong it was starting to cause me to wince in pain as well. Luckily, he loosened his hand not too long after.

“Deep breaths, Cora, deep breaths,” I tell him and I also begin to breathe with him. “Yeah, there ya go. You got this.”

Once I finish applying enough disinfectant to the first opening, I cover it with a clean cloth and some medical adhesive. I get up on the bed and make my way around to his back. “Alright, we gotta do this one more time. Can you handle it?”

He turns his head back as far as he can and gives me a nod. “Here, since you can’t grab my arm, you can squeeze my hand instead.”

Given the circumstances, I wasn’t as giddy and happy about it as I should have been. I actually teared up a bit seeing how much pain he was in and how much I just wanted him to feel better. Interlocking my fingers with his did seem to help make me feel better and I hope it did to him, too.

Once I finished disinfecting the wound on his back, I applied another piece of cloth and waited for the bleeding on both sides to subside. Before he could see my face, I wiped away any humiliating tears that I let out. I then started covering him in gauze to keep everything in place. While doing so, my hands slightly wandered off course as they brushed over his toned chest and the abundance of scars on his back.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. If you do, I won’t help you again like I did just now. You hear me?” I scolded him with my arms crossed. He reaches his hand to his head and sheepishly mouths, “Sorry”.

“Okay maybe I will but this better not be a recurring thing. Not gonna lie,” I turned to look to the side,” I know you’ve probably had worse injuries before, but you did have me pretty worried there for a second.” 

I sat next to him and tried to catch my breath after everything that happened. He looked at the bruise he caused on my upper arm and began to gently rub his thumb over it. “Oh, this? It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I was the one who got stabbed or whatever. Really though, how’d you let someone do this to you?” He shrugs. “Well, whatever, at least you’re alright now.” 

He signs, “Thank you,” and I reply with, “It’s no big deal, really”. 

I look around to see his blood splattered everywhere- on the floor, the bed, my hands. “I’m gonna go clean up and then I’ll come back to clean up this mess.”

I returned with some fresh sheets for his bed and some cleaning supplies. After changing out the sheets for him, I told him to lie down while I mopped the floor and disinfected everything. He fell asleep by the time I finished cleaning. 

_____________________________

Even though he was hurt, he looked peaceful and cozy. I went up to pat his head and tell him to rest easy but I guess that was enough to wake him. He smiled at me and then caught my arm by hugging it.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing? I gotta go!”

He shook his head and gently pulled me down to his level. 

“What’s your problem, what are you-” I flinch at his fingers caressing my cheek. Who does this stupid clown think he is, making me have feelings for him and now for all I know he’s just teasing me about it and doesn’t actually mean anything to come from it. 

This has to be some kind of joke right?

I conclude that he’s just messing with me and I jump up to leave the room. As I’m walking out, his older brother walks past the door and asks what happened. Cora showed him the message he had given me earlier. “Did you help him?” he asked me. I gave him an annoyed “yeah” and tried to walk off before he stopped me. “Hold on, I just came to tell everyone that I’ve decided to let that Law kid into our family. We’re holding the meeting once they find him. I’m expecting you two to be there”.

After that incident, I tried to avoid Cora as much as I could, but that damned bastard kept sticking his nose in my business. I think I did scare him off though because he didn’t try anything like that again. I did ask him what his deal was and why he acted like that towards me that day but was met with the usual silence; not even a note or anything. 

I know it’s petty but I went back to pranking him just for that. And boy did it get wilder and wilder each time now that Law was in the picture. That kid was so smart. He was always coming up with elaborate plans on how to get him back. As long as he didn’t explain himself to me and kept throwing the kids around everywhere, it was only fair, right? 

Still, I couldn’t help feeling bad for the big guy. Maybe I was too harsh on him. But I couldn't because I did confront him about that day and he wasn’t able to give me an explanation. It really did have to be a joke.

How could someone like that, fall in love with someone like me? 

No one would ever want me in that way. I was an outsider on the island I was from. Not even my parents wanted me as their own child.

I don’t have the perfect body and I'm not a perfect person. I can’t even be a decent person. I’m out here using children to help me in some petty revenge against a grown-ass man. I can’t even use my devil fruit powers correctly, let alone fight like a normal person for crying out loud. Why does Doffy even want me around still? I can leave any time I want so what am I still doing here?

It had to be for the children. If I ever left? Who would look out for them?

For two years more, I stuck around. But within those two years, my love for the children grew even stronger as did my need to help them escape. That lunatic Doflamingo! Who does he think he is taking advantage of these poor innocent souls and turning them into war machines? A baby! He hired a baby for crying out loud! 

And Law, oh poor little Trafalgar Law. All the stories I heard about how the government slaughtered his family and destroyed his town just because they had a fatal disease. It wasn’t even contagious but of course, they couldn’t admit that they let them mine the white lead for so long so they could just sit on their asses and make a profit.

I came up with a plan to escape with the children, but I was going to need help. I bit the bullet and asked none other than my arch-nemesis, Corazon, to meet me at the hidden cave so I could explain it to him. I still hated him, but he was unfortunately the only other person I could trust. Or at least I thought so…

[soulsxng]

@arcxnumvitae and @fatestouch replied to your post:

WHAT?!

👀👀👀

"It is not an issue of having grown tired of my position, or anything of the sort...though it would likely be a lie if I were to say that I were not feeling somewhat drained."

There's a small hum, and Sivel finally lifts his gaze from the mage pools to regard Ranadi and Alsina, who had eventually begun with a steady (albeit nervous) stream of questions. Why he had brought this up. When he had begun to think about it seriously. Would it be temporary, or permanent? Who would replace him, and what he would be doing, instead?

...What had happened to make him want to abdicate in the first place?

"I love Vasyri...I do. And I love my people just as deeply. But over these past few years, I have come to wonder if, perhaps, I have done all that I am able to for them. Vasyri deserves someone with a fresh outlook on things. Someone who does not look at potential alliances and associations that could benefit us, or end up overly focused on how things might go wrong. Someone that does not feel compelled toward the need to do things on our own, even if we do have allies, so as not to potentially open ourselves up to further threats."

"I think about my home, and I think of what I need to do so as to not fail them again. How I do not think I could stand to see any of my people suffer as they did in the past. And no matter whether I realize that or not, I am never able to shake myself from being almost as overprotective of them as I am of all of you. Of my family..."

"That makes any growth or evolution difficult, if not outright impossible. I know that, and yet...I find that, more and more, I am unable to justify the risks necessary to see much worthwhile change take place. So...while I do not necessarily believe myself to be a poor leader, I feel as though things have grown to be stagnant."

"And all of that is without mentioning the ire that so many outside of Vasyri view me with. I worry that, as long as I am Luminary, the stigma attached to myself and my deeds will continue to weigh Vasyri as a whole down, as well."

He talks through everything in a soft, even tone. It's obvious to both Ranadi and Alsina that this is something he had put a good deal of thought into, since a year or two ago, when he had commented half-jokingly about it to the pair of them.

"Besides...I miss it. How things used to be, when we were younger. Being able to go wherever we fancied at a moment's notice. Exploring and experiencing things with our claim-- something that I have never had the opportunity to do with Ania or Cyrus even once. It feels like, by becoming Luminary, I somehow came to believe that I had to give up so much of myself that, even in my earlier years of ruling, I would never have imagined doing. As if I gave up a part of my culture, pieces of who I am, moments with my loved ones...I look at the person I have become on occasion, and oftentimes, I do not like what I see. What I turned myself into, simply because I thought it was for the best of everyone involved. Because I thought that people would be more impressed, or more intimidated."

"...I do not intend to leave Vasyri forever, nor is this something I intend to rush. I want to be sure that whoever I pass this title onto, they are going to be the right fit. I still want to be around here and there to offer my support and assistance, and to teach people where I can-- both the new Luminary, and whoever else may want to learn from me. And when I'm not doing that, I think I would like to start by going along with Ania, Cyrus, and Sivan on one of their expeditions. After that, maybe I will take them on a trip to some of the spots that mother and father used to bring us when we were younger, with Naya and Nesimah...perhaps Quella. Both of you as well, if it is something you would be open to? It would hardly be the same, otherwise."

"Going back to my abdication, however. As I said, it is not something I intend to rush. I...am coming closer and closer to the conclusion that it is simply my time to take a step back, is all."

[oveliagirlhaditright]

The Precursor to the Journey - A Kairi Day 2024 Fic

Summary: As Kairi meets two people from another world a few times while she's growing up--and also just grows up in general, and learns more about herself: maybe partly through some of these meetings, but also of course because of her friends Sora and Riku--it puts in place the puzzle pieces that are needed for the trio's eventual journey to start. Written for Kairi Day 2024. Oneshot. Written to both explore what Sora, Riku, and Kairi might have been like together as they grew, but also to somewhat give Kairi her own adventure pre-KH1, that wouldn't mess with canon.

The Precursor to the Journey

Kairi’s PoV

"Why are you here?" Kairi asked a mysterious blonde woman before her, pretty certain that she'd never seen her before, but also not entirely sure of that, either. Kairi was new to the Island, after all.

The woman smiled sweetly for Kairi’s question, it seemed to the five-year-old, but it took her a moment to answer the question. "I'm trying to decide if my decision to abdicate this role I’ve been given is a good one. Tell me, little one: If you had great power, would you give it to someone else?"

Kairi stared at the woman of medium height, definitely confused by the turn of events, as the wind blew and her shoulder-length hair brushed against her shoulders. She really had no idea what the lady was talking about. She was only five. But Kairi didn’t want to admit that she was lost, for she didn’t want to seem dumb. She was about to try and guess at the answer, when the girl seemed to understand that Kairi hadn’t gotten what she was trying to say and attempted it again with, “Would you give something special to someone else?”

“Hmm… Maybe a girl,” Kairi supposed. “I trust them more than mean boys, who have cooties.”

The curly-haired blonde laughed at that, as she stepped closer to Kairi in the sand and out of the shore of the Play Island. And Kairi knew she should have afraid for this—as one shouldn’t talk to strangers—but there was something about this woman that set her at ease.

“That sounds too much like me for comfort,” the woman said, almost seeming lost in her own memories. “And how rude of me to not introduce myself until now! I’m Delamer! But young one… while giving power to girls is fine—and I’d be okay with you ever wanting to do that, if it would somehow help you—is there not even one boy you’d think about sharing with?”

Kairi thought about it for a moment… and at first, she imagined that the answer was “no.” But then she remembered that a boy in her class, Sora—who she hadn’t liked at first, for he had knocked her into the water when their teacher had been teaching them how to fish (1)—had recently jumped into the ocean for her, to retrieve one of the fake nails she had dropped in there, when she had explained that it meant a lot to her since it was from her grandma.

Kairi explained the story to Delamer, and Delamer almost seemed to look… scared to Kairi for a moment. Or was it some other adult emotion Kairi couldn’t understand?

Finally, Delamer said, “Sora seems to remind me of someone that I know. Thank you, Kairi. You really helped me today. I think I will trust and give up this power. In the future… please stay safe and take care of yourself.”

“I’ll try t-” Kairi started, but Delamer was already gone. But what was there in her place, was a giant nailfile.

…

"I wanna make cookie dough," Kairi, at seven, told her adoptive mom, as she put up her hair that now reached just below her shoulders, so she could hopefully help with the task.

As Kairi loved cookie dough more than anything, she thought it would be a good treat for Sora.

But Kairi's mom frowned at her, as the two of them stood in their kitchen, and told Kairi, "You can't really do that, honey. I shouldn't give you the small bits of it that I do. And if you were to give it to Sora, it might give him salmonella."

Now it was Kairi's turn to frown. This had been her best idea, and now she had no clue what else to give her friend. It was hard not to cry at this turn of events, but Kairi fought against it—wanting to press on.

"What if we make cookies, with a little cookie dough on top?" Kairi begged.

And maybe there was something in her eyes or her tone of voice when Kairi had asked, because her mother suddenly relented with a sigh. "I guess there's less a chance for it to be harmful, if we just give Sora a tiny bit that way, than the tin you had been planning. Very well, Kairi."

Kairi beamed wider than she ever had in her life, and jumped up on a chair so she could help her mom with the baking.

And when she presented the cookies to Sora, she thought his own smile looked particularly radiant.

Dangus' PoV

Dangus—Delamer's love, who she had given her power to: though there was much more to the story than that—watched the girl, Kairi (nine now, he believed), as she talked to her friend Riku?

It sounded like Kairi was asking Riku for gift ideas, as she very much wanted to buy him something. But Riku was teasing her by asking if she really wanted to include him in an anniversary that was about her and Sora. Kairi countered by saying if he didn't want the keyboard she was very seriously thinking about getting him, just say so.

The whole thing was cute... And Dangus could understand why Delamer had chosen to speak to Kairi—and wanted to protect her—but part of him wished she hadn’t. He didn't want this power again. …It was too much for him.

Dangus was pulled out of his melancholy thoughts, when he noticed that Kairi was saying goodbye to Sora and Riku outside of their school now, and getting ready to head home. And that’s when it happened:

Water and lightning appeared out of nowhere, mixing together, until it formed the shape of someone Dangus knew all too well, heading straight for the girl!

Dangus began running towards Kairi, but he knew he wouldn't get there in time! So he used his magic to summon to Kairi the gift Delamer had given her years ago and threw it to her!

Just as the... the monster was closing in on Kairi, she first tied her hair that was at her waist into a bun—so the monster couldn’t use it against her—but then she woke up even further, and stabbed at the monster with the nailfile. And while said nailfile was the slightest bit wobbly—Delamer hadn't wanted to give a real weapon to a child, Dangus knew—it was enough to knock him off his feet. And then Dangus was there, and he defeated him with just a look (such was this cursed power he had)... and he hated to do it.

The moment she seemed to gather herself, Kairi looked at him like she'd seen a ghost. "You! You're like that girl... so it wasn't a dream."

"You thought it was a dream, even after Delamer magicked you this ridiculous nailfile?" Dangus laughed, taking Kairi's hand and helping her to her feet from where she’d fallen after having landing her blow on the monster.

"I ended up losing it, after my mom and I moved houses... thank you for bringing it back to me," Kairi said very sincerely. It somewhat baffled Dangus, because why would she care so much about an object that, just a second ago, she thought had been a dream. But there was definitely something about this girl. She seemed so… pure.

"You're more than welcome," Dangus said, suddenly more than charmed by Kairi, even though he should have been staying away from her for quite a few reasons.

"Are you from one of the other islands, or-"

And there was one of the reasons Dangus very much needed to leave. He didn't want to admit he was from another world, after all. But it was also part of the reason he needed to protect her. The Eye he had—that allowed him to see too much, if he allowed it (like someone else in her future with a certain eye)—spoke of an interesting future for this girl.

"...You could argue that I'm from an island. But Kairi, beware of certain people from your island and try to be safe." To try and prove his point, he walked the young girl home.

And once she was inside, Dangus put a strand of green hair behind his ear—getting it out of his brown eyes—and he quietly mourned that this girl would have such a hard fate. Why did so many girls that he knew have to suffer so much?

...

Kairi's PoV

Though Kairi appreciated what Dangus had tried to do for her (Delamer too, even though she barely remembered her now, since that encounter had happened so many years ago) she mostly put it out of her mind by twelve. After all, even if Dangus was right, she wasn't going to ruin her life by worrying about something that might not never come.

She was happy in life: she'd recently become a cheerleader at school; and she loved how it made her more active than she had been before, even if she'd still probably lose a contest with the ever-energetic Sora, Riku, Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka.

Kairi was actually on the way to some extra cheerleading practice at the school's gym now, and was getting ready to jump in her canoe in the Play Island to row there, when she saw Delamer and Dangus again!

At first, Kairi thought the sun was playing tricks on her (or maybe her hair [that was so long now, it reached her bottom] had gotten into her eyes and was obscuring her vision), and she rubbed her eyes to make the illusion go away. But no, it was really them: much like Delamer had been standing on the shore here the first time they met.

There was a part of Kairi that was a bit more cautious upon seeing them now, in knowing how badly her having met the strangers could have gone before… But she also couldn't deny they'd been good to her every time she'd seen them; and that really, she was happy to see them.

"Hey, you two! You look well! What brings you here?" Kairi asked, heading over to them with a wide smile on her face, feeling ever curious.

As she got closer to them, she noted that they were holding hands, but not overly affectionate like some older couples she'd seen here on the islands. She stored that information away for later.

"I'm surprised you're not with your friends. You were with that Sora and Riku when I met you. And when I talked to Delamer about it, she said you were just about to befriend Sora when you two met." was Dangus' rejoinder.

Kairi laughed. "The two of them are very dear to me, but we’re not literally joined at the hip. They might surprise me and support me at cheerleading practice today. But if not, we have plans to play after school tomorrow. So, what brings you two-"

"Kairi, there's a chance this will be the last time we'll see you," Delamer interrupted, seemingly giving up all pretenses. And when Sora would one day tell her how Leon had told him they "may never meet again, but they’d never forget each other," she would think of this moment that she had with these two. "Dangus and I have decided, for the good of the people, that it's best that no one reign like this. …But you must know a storm is coming."

"I guess it's a good thing I'm so good at swimming," Kairi said, getting worried now.

"No matter what happens, believe in yourself and be there for your friends," Dangus told her, with something in his eyes. And with him suddenly dropping his humor and getting pretty dire, too, he must have also decided that she needed to know whatever this was, and that they needed to wrap this up.

Kairi wasn't sure she could easily believe in herself, really (it seemed her friends were so much more talented than her), but she didn't want to let these two down down their last time here, so she said words she'd soon know well, "I will. Thanks for everything." And she took both of her friend’s hands and squeezed them, as they smiled warmly at her. Then, they were gone—soon leaving Kairi to wonder if she'd had any kind of journey at all.

But, oddly, it also left her with a thought that maybe she should cut her hair… if anything was really coming, she didn’t want her long hair used against her. Right?

And short hair was more mature, and she definitely thought she was becoming more that.

It was a thought, at least.

Mulling over a number of thoughts in her head—but deciding to file them later—Kairi reminded herself to take things one step at a time, and headed for her practice.

…

Sora’s PoV

“Kairi’s cut her hair,” Sora randomly brought up after he and Riku were done sparring for the day and were sitting on the paopu tree, looking out at the sunset. The thirteen-year-old Sora kicked his feet to and fro as he chewed on a grape popsicle and he waited almost with bated breath for Riku’s reaction to this.

Though, then again, if Sora really thought about it… he imagined that Kairi changing her hair wasn’t really that noteworthy. His and Riku’s best friend seemed to alter her tresses every year. Sometimes she even changed her look more than once a year, as she loved different hairstyles. But what really stood out to Sora, was that Kairi looked very tomboyish this time, and seemed to be acting it, too. She had even said-

“And she said that she’s down for any adventure we want to do. Which is cool, but what brought it up?” Riku asked from almost beneath Sora’s feet—from where he stood standing leaning against the tree trunk—with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, you already knew what I was going to tell you?! Why didn’t you tell me that, before I started acting like this was some breaking news?!” Sora pouted. Crossing his arms over his chest, upon somewhat scooching away from his best friend.

Idly, and somewhat jealously, he wondered if Riku had seen Kairi before he had. It was definitely a possibility, since the two’s houses were closer to each other’s. Sora tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. But ever since he’d gotten sick and the three of them hadn’t been able to go to his and Kairi’s eighth grade dance together like they’d planned to, and Riku and Kairi had just gone instead, Sora had found himself resenting some of the looks Riku and Kairi had been giving each other and the conversations they had had.

But he knew that now was not the time for that.

“But back to your question, Riku, if Kairi’s suddenly decided she wants to be more active, who are we to stop her?” Sora queried. He actually thought it was really cool. And he loved the idea that it might allow them to spend even more time with Kairi now.

“I suppose…” Riku allowed, fishing out a popsicle for himself from the cooler nearby and taking a bite of the lime treat before he continued his conversation with Sora. “But I just think there’s a little more to it, that’s all.”

As much as Sora somewhat hated to admit it—because he didn’t want Riku insinuating that Kairi would change her whole personality on a dime or anything like that—he couldn’t help feeling that his friend was right. Kairi had been somewhat… girlier in years past. But all of a sudden, it had seemed like she had wanted to prove she could rough and tumble with the best of them. And maybe this was just another evolution of that. But even if it was, Sora really didn’t see what the big deal was. He was enjoying seeing this new side of Kairi. And didn’t everyone somewhat change as they grew up?

“Her new haircut reminds me of how she looked when she showed up here when she was five…” Sora found himself muttering, barely even realizing he was speaking as he was pulled back into the memory.

It had been a somewhat dark night, but not entirely so. The falling stars and bright, full moon had turned what otherwise might have been blackness into a vast navy blue. Sora had watched it all from his bedroom window, transfixed. And just as what had looked like a rocket falling from the sky to his young eyes had headed for the islands. Then, he hadn’t been able to remain still any longer and had snuck outside to try and find where it had landed… only to find Kairi. Kairi and Riku both, for it had seemed Riku had had the same idea.

“What?” Riku asked, seemingly confused, pulling Sora out of his reverie.

“The night of the meteor shower when we met Kairi, remember?” Sora asked, finishing up his popsicle that had begun to melt onto his hands at this point. He licked what he could off his fingertips, and then rubbed what remained on his bare legs.

“Oh, right!” Riku exclaimed. A far-away look in his own eyes now as he reminisced. “It was so dark that night, it’s hard for me to recall what Kairi’s hair looked like in it. But I guess it was kind of similar to how it is now. Huh.”

Riku got a far-away look in his eyes again after he said that. And Sora was about to ask what was so great to daydream about that he couldn’t even pay attention to him, when the subject of their conversation made an appearance.

“Oh, popsicles. Yum! Did you save any for me?” Kairi asked, giving each of them a thousand-watt smile, before taking her own trademarked seat on the paopu tree. And if Sora swooned a little bit, and tried to hide it, he couldn’t exactly be blamed. He’d never seen a girl with such cute short hair, okay?

“Kairi, hi!” Sore exclaimed.

“Oh, hi, Kairi,” Riku started. Then, realizing what she’d said, he continued with, “Of course we did. There should be a few coconut popsicles in there just for you.”

Kairi began fishing in the cooler with smiling eyes. And it seemed to Sora, something as simple as coconut popsicles was like she’d won the lottery for Kairi.

The three of them then had a moment of comfortable silence together after Kairi got her popsicle (and maybe Sora and Riku got even more), and it felt like heaven to Sora. This was what it was all about.

“So did you guys hear the scandal that’s going on at school?” Kairi eventually said, as Sora and Riku looked at her with curious eyes. “Mr. Namana and the parents are arguing about what one divided by zero is. The parents think it’s one, while he maintains it’s zero… But, guys? I swore we learned that anything divided by zero is undefined, right? What’s even happening? We’re all going to have Mr. Namana next year and I’m scared for our education.”

Sora burst out laughing, wondering how Kairi always had the best stories.

But Riku put it the best, Sora thought, when he said, “Wow. Sounds like it’s going to be quite the adventure next year.”

“Sounds about right…” Sora voiced. But deep down, it was the kind of adventure he wanted with his friends. Always.

And he knew that as long as they were together, things would work out okay.

Author's Note: (1) It’s probably obvious, but Sora pushed her into the water by accident, though Kairi doesn’t realize that at first.

Delamer and Dangus are characters from a novel of mine. I don’t know if that novel will ever see the light of day (even if I love it), but at least they’re living here somewhat, I guess. Hopefully you guys can enjoy my babies somewhat (even with your limited knowledge of them, because I don’t want to spoil too much in case I do ever do anything with said book).

I’ve had this idea for a long time… Though I’ll admit that originally for Kairi Day, I actually wanted to make an amv for her, but I couldn’t download the song for it. So then I kind of rushed back to this fic—that I’ve had bits and pieces done of for years—and finished it as best as I could for my girl. But there was just no way I could let Kairi Day pass me by without doing something for her, so here is my contribution for her. Happy Kairi Day!

Edit: And if Kairi seems slightly closer to Sora at first in this fic, it’s because he’s in her grade (and Riku’s not, as he’s a year older) so she spends a bit more time with him that way, of course. But then when she starts hanging out with Sora after they become friends, Riku’s also there, and she gets to know him, and then they also become best friends.

[atlantisknits]

4- Feeling tangled, casting on the Weekend Slipover V-Neck Edition

Hi hello

So, life has been kinda crazy lately…

But, when isn’t it?

I feel like life is forever throwing things at me that I have to try and bat away somehow. However, usually I wind up turning to the same repetitive behaviours. Honestly, knitting probably counts as one of these behaviours- it’s something I can do even when I’m stressed or there’s a lot going on and I don’t need to focus too much of my energy on it and the repetitive motion helps to distract my mind…or allows it to carry on overthinking, but makes me feel better because at least I’m doing something ‘productive’. 

I often find myself feeling guilty or anxious if I’m not doing something ‘productive’ and have found myself boxed in this mindset. However, this is counterproductive as I then overwhelm myself by thinking of all the things I could or should be doing and then just end up avoiding things and procrastinating and this isn’t helping me get anywhere. 

And, I think that’s the thing- I feel so tangled up by everything going on around me I feel trapped in this net and it’s preventing me from moving forward. This also sucks when everyone else around me seems to be moving on with their lives and I’m still trying to find a way out of my parent’s place and into a career that actually suits me and what I want out of my life. 

Even though, yes, it’s possible that knitting has become somewhat of a coping mechanism for me and there’s a chance that perhaps I need to limit time spent knitting to focus on other things. However, knitting has also become a passion and I’m so happy to have stumbled upon this hobby. By ‘passion’, I do not mean to say that I am talented or good at knitting and I want to make a career from it somehow, but if it did ever reach that point I think this would fit in more with my actual dreams and interests to where I’m at currently. As a kid, tween, teen, if I was ever asked what I wanted to do when I grow up my answers would normally consist of artist, fashion designer, writer. Yet, somehow those dreams got undermined and somewhere down the road I had to put them to one side and focus on something more ‘academic’ if I wanted to get myself a decent career.

Well, I studied for four years and now have a degree sat on a shelf doing nothing. I am struggling and find myself turning to creative hobbies in an effort to cope through this and in doing so have re-discovered these old dreams. 

For a while I couldn’t see a future for myself (and I do not mean that to sound as dark as it does but we move lol). The future I had thought out for myself I was basically pulled away from, I then started a new path, that was taken from me and it reached a point where I felt like I had been pushed and pulled in so many different directions that when it came to me actually focusing on myself and what I wanted from my life I couldn’t figure that out- it felt like whatever I would decide on would be the wrong decision. So, I was just left in this tangled mess. 

Yet, as my twenty-seventh birthday looms I realise now more than ever that I must navigate through this and find my way out. It will take some patience with myself as well as my circumstances, but I’m hoping that little by little the more I untangle these knots I will be able to see a future that I want for myself and not a future that has been planned out for me. 

That being said, I believe knitting has taught me a lot of patience. As an anxious person I find myself constantly on edge and this can make me very impatient with pretty much everything. However, I learnt that I couldn’t moan at my own mistakes and errors if I had impatiently rushed through certain parts of a project or skipped over learning certain points properly. I think this has begun to show in the pieces I create and it’s pleasing to see how my work has improved with time. 

I recently cast on the Weekend Slipover V-Neck edition by Petite Knit and since casting it on I’ve noticed how things I have learnt have stuck with me, meaning before I have even finished this project I am feeling a sense of achievement from it and I will take any small wins right now. What’s also great about this project is that it’s an opportunity to finally try out Knitting For Olive yarn! I have been looking to treat myself to some KFO for a while now and after a turbulent couple of weeks I decided I needed a treat. I opted for the Heavy Merino and Soft Silk Mohair both in Plum Clay- the colour is so beautiful, a muted purple colour that looks more brown or purple in certain lighting. I had originally considered a dark brown, but for some reason purple has been on my mind a lot lately and I guess that’s what drew me to this shade. 

There is a rather funny story about this yarn, however. The yarn was shipped from Denmark and then once in the UK I was informed it would be delivered through Royal Mail. I instantly knew that something was going to happen to this parcel and of course I was correct. 

I had gone to the hairdresser’s and returned home to an email that my parcel had been delivered. My dad was home, but there was no parcel in sight and no note to say it had been left next door. I scrolled through the email and all I was offered was an image of my parcel stuffed behind someone’s planter…we don’t have planters nor do our neighbours. So, I had to wander around the block to see if I could spot a planter that looked like the one in the image. After a couple of hours of some questionable detective skills I finally tracked down my parcel- the yarn was found safe and sound thanks to a very nice lady. 

On that note I think I will leave my incoherent ramblings there for today. To whoever is reading this, I hope you are well and if you are also feeling a little caught up in life right now I hope things ease for you soon also.

Happy knitting xo

Images originally featured on my Instagram: atlantis.knits 

[mr007pennyworth]

It upsets me to think that she didn't spend the time.

There was a moment when she cared, there was a moment when she was invested in building something for you. Then all of sudden the stairs she had agreed to help build became a chore, an issue she refused to address and repair, they became rickety, cracked, parts fell down, you saw it all.

You were scared and I watched it all. I stood behind you somewhat helpless and left only offering advice while pieces broke away and that's when I saw her breaking down what you had built with purpose. I resented it. I was angry and I couldn't stand by it. I spent years, building every step and bridge to you with the knowledge and determination that I wanted it to last forever, every nail, staple, dot of glue or cement I used to build this relationship we have now I spent every bit of my love for you on making sure you could look on at it and see just how I felt and that even when I was gone, that it held strong, it held you where we had always said we would be.

Minutes, hours, days, nights we spent building this relationship into the heaven we now hold, has more than one door...no staircase is perfectly straight, our has curves, dips, it changes colour...it has doors. It has halls. It has stops. It first stopped when i saw red. I look at my anger now and I regret that perhaps it was a warning that something was about to go wrong. My heart ache must have reverberated across the stars because it shook the foundations of the stairs you had been trying so hard to focus on.I never heard the cracks or the creaking in my own grief until your own outweighed mine and the staircase came down when she died. We didn't have the time to build and I refused to ask you to look at me, at us, at what we had when all you had known and wanted in that moment was what she had promised first.

Eventually, nail and boards were picked back up, placed, ripped up, replaced, it took time to learn that ease again, it took us time to remember how to focus, somehow it just came back I can't pin point when it had, but it did, and we began to build faster, perhaps more blindly into something we didn't understand until that day I felt a wall was needed to support the height we'd come too.

A wall that lasted thirty years.

It felt right to just stop and it also didn't, believe me when I say Gareth I wanted to you have everything you wanted and therefore I had to let go of my focus, I had to put down the tools and I sat on those stairs.

I sat on those stairs we built for thirty years watching it age but it never changed. Every step looked new, every colour was vibrant and alive. Over the years people joined me, sat with me, waited. Asked who was I waiting for? Until it became only myself and Bruce, slowly, slowly Bruce convinced me to move, he helped me fix things I hadn't considered damaged. He helped me break down that wall.

I spent so long taking it down, brick by brick, listening to nothing but my own internal monologue that I never heard the steps. I never heard someone walking up the staircase, until I was standing on the city street looking into eyes I remembered with a name I had splashed with bitter grief on my tounge.

I remember running. I remember running up those stairs wondering how I had moved so far down them, when had I moved? I stood at the top in fear, I tell you I was terrified to realize I had forgotten how to build. Finding you standing there when I turned around. Terrified to hear if you were to ask of me, to tear it all down...

Maybe it was the drugs that sent me insane, or maybe it was actually all this apparent therapy I'm told is good for me. But now I feel as if we're standing in that corridor at the top of those stairs. The walls are made of glass and we're looking down admiring what we have, enjoying it again. You seem still love every inch of it. I know I do.

But I found a door I couldn't recall making. I opened it one night and found I've never wanted to walk through it more than anything in my life. This is what I built the stairs for...isn't it? When I showed you it, you agreed, you didn't even hesitate to agree that you'd go through that door with me. We still stand there now, admiring everything we could now build, joke about it too. But I'm now thinking about the bottom of this staircase. If we go through this door, the staircase disappears. I don't know where it goes, but there is no going back a few steps. I would hope my fears were unfounded but I saw it before. That other staircase you built, disappeared.

When I woke this morning to to cold sweats to find id lost myself in a heavily drug induced dreamscape, I began to place how the dream fit into us. I'm grateful I had awoken here in your bed, here in London, if I had been anywhere else, I may not be writing this letter, I dread to consider what I would have done. I look at the house around me now and I realize we already did walk through the door, it seems I can not fathom quiet when we did but it was not recently. The door itself is even still there, it must be, that glass walled corridor is how we still see it, we still talk about it, it's still as beautiful and adored as the day we started because we have wanted it to stay that way.

It became proof in its own form that love can never be rushed if it is to stand the test of time itself. It can not be made demands of if it to resist staining or wear. It is not to be forced or coerced into growing stronger without the right support and guidance. Love can be a beautiful thing when you spend the time to nurture it slowly.

I found we no longer need to worry about how our love looks, the only thing that matters now is how we love together.

'Dear Gareth' Dairy Entry- August 15th 2023 - The Staircase Theory

[ddoubleblindd]

Everyone's a Catgirl! Ch. 2: The Beach

My entry into the new world was rough, to say the least. I thought I might teleport in, walk through a mystical door, something like that. Leiana hadn’t given me a chance to ask.

No. Instead, she’d warped me above the middle of an ocean, and now I was drowning. I’d learned to doggy paddle with the best of them, but somehow my desperate flailing led me to sink faster rather than bring me back to the surface. My arms waved around helplessly. Were all of those bubbles coming from me?

Did I seriously get dropped into a new world just to die again?

And then I saw her. A lithe, dark-haired girl was swimming toward me. Her expression was hard to read through the water’s blur, and my consciousness was quickly fading. I extended my hand and felt a tug at my wrist.

That was the last thing I remembered.

When I came to, golden eyes bore into my head. Her stare was so intense. I wanted to speak, but my body was still so weak—like I’d just run ten miles instead of thrashing my arms in a pathetic attempt at swimming. Why was I so tired? My limbs burned like hell. But, silver lining, I could feel sand on my back and the warm sun on my face. And here was a dark-haired beauty staring me in the eyes.

“Hey,” is what I wanted to say. Instead, it came out as a gurgled mess of water and saliva. I coughed up all over my chest, and the girl was quick to take my hand in hers and lift the back of my head. What an angel. Nothing like the ‘goddess’ that had dropped me in the ocean. Some noble death that would’ve been. Newly reborn and died drowning. What a hero. Add it to your reels, Leiana.

“Are you okay?” the girl asked.

“Been better. I’ll live.” I could finally speak. There was still some ocean water doing its best to choke me out and something stringy that I didn’t want to think about, but I was alive. And man, what a time to be alive. I reached one trembling hand up and brushed the girl’s cheek with my fingertips. “Thanks.”

She suddenly lurched backward and let go of me. The back of my skull hit a rock on the way down with a gut-twisting crack. She yelped, and her cheeks turned pink. I would have yelled if I had the strength, and I was pretty sure I was bleeding. Instead, I just lay there, watching her frantically pat the sand away from her one-piece swimsuit.

I studied her in a dizzied haze, realizing that there were feline ears atop her head, covered in the same color fur as her hair. A long, thin brown tail swayed behind her back, then flicked sand away from its tip. This was undoubtedly the heaven I was promised.

Well, at least I got what I asked for.

“I-I’m sorry! Are… are you okay?” The girl hunched over me again, concern written on her face. She waved her hands over my chest, hovering as if afraid to touch me again.

“More than okay. I’m great.” My head throbbed, and dark edges framed my sight, but who cared? I’d made it. My very own catgirl world.

“Huh? But you almost died, and now you hit your head! I need to get you to a healer!” She fussed over me, fingers scuttling over my shirt and head. “You’re bleeding!”

More catgirls nearby? I found myself suppressing the pain and exhaustion to climb to my feet. My mind was set on one goal—to see more catgirls. “Then let’s go.”

She hesitated before taking my arm and wrapping it around her shoulders. She was stronger than I expected, but she still struggled

beneath my weight. I shifted my legs to help her out, and we awkwardly wobbled across the rocky coastline.

“Your clothes are weird,” she said suddenly. “Are you from one of the other islands?”

“Erm. Not really.” I realized I’d been dropped in my green jacket, a t-shirt, and jeans. They were sopping wet and clinging to my skin, but it was an outfit I recognized from the limited wardrobe of my previous life. My tennis shoes and socks squelched in the sand as we walked.

“Oh. I see.” She fretted her lip in silence, and we continued.

Shortly after, something dropped out of my back pocket. We both turned to see what it was. The sunlight glinted from a metallic object, masking its shape.

“I’ll get it!” She made to reach for it, clumsily shifting me around and grunting all the while. Bits of sand kicked up around her hand, and I nearly pitched to the side with the effort. This was going nowhere fast.

“It’s fine. I got it.” My legs were still a bit wobbly, kind of like I’d had one too many drinks, and I bent on one knee to steady myself. A device that reminded me of a cell phone was down in the sand—a small, silver rectangle with a reflective surface and two pointed shapes on top, like tiny cat ears. I picked it up and flicked the sand from the screen.

It looked like a smartphone a girl in high school would carry. I wondered if I’d picked it up in purgatory—I wouldn’t be caught dead with a case that looked like that. I glanced at the girl, who was staring at it wide-eyed.

No way. I can’t let her think this is mine.

Doubting she’d believe my purgatory story, I tried to play it off. “Some junk from the ocean?” I tossed it over my shoulder and laughed nervously. I wasn’t about to let some stupid device like that ruin my shot with her.

“You mustn’t! That’s an iPaw,” she gasped.

“A what?”

“You’re the next one!” Her eyes were alight with wonder, almost childlike.

“The next what?”

A half-second later, I felt a strange weight against my back pocket. I reached in and retracted the iPaw once more. “The hell is this thing?”

“I just told you! It’s an iPaw!”

What a ridiculous name. “Is it yours?”

“No! Catgirls don’t receive such blessings.” She vehemently shook her head. “It’s for you to use. You should always keep it with you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“Just trust me!” She took a step back and held out her hand. “Look, give it here.”

Well, it’s not my world, I guess. Can’t ignore a request from a native. I shrugged. “No argument from me.”

She practically snatched the thing away from me. Her thumb rested against the side of the phone, and with the single press of a button, the device grew to the size of, well, an iPad. The screen exploded in a burst of bright colors and lights. Her face lit up with the LEDs.

“It actually works?” I moved to her side, admiring the delicate curve of her shoulders on the way. “You’d think a bath in the ocean would have killed it.”

“From what I’ve been told, they’re indestructible. It’s an ancient device only men can use.”

My mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. I had so many questions and no idea where to start.

“You can use this to keep track of Quests, Stats, Skills, all kinds of things! How do you not know that?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“That’s common knowledge among all men and catgirls!”

I looked at the screen. She used one of her slender fingers and tapped on a house-shaped emblem. I couldn’t help but notice that the house also had ears and a tail. Going strong with the theme, I see.

“Uh-huh. And uh, how does this… iPaw... work?” A pixelated version of my face appeared on the screen, and I was surprised that the red streak I put in my hair was still there. So, I guess I really do have the same body as before.

“I think this is the right spot. Here, this should get you started.” She held out the iPaw, and I cautiously took it into my hands.

On the screen was an array of options like a JRPG: [Items], [Stats], [Combat Skills], [Life Skills], [Party], and [Quests].

Something that stuck out to me was the question mark next to my portrait. Now that I thought about it, we hadn’t shared our names yet. “By the way, my name’s Matt.”

She clasped her hands in front of her with a wide smile. “Keke.”

The iPaw flashed, and when I looked back at the screen, I saw my name now listed beside my portrait. I breathed a sigh of relief to see “Matt” and not “Matthew Kelmer.” What was more interesting was Keke’s portrait below mine. Instead of her swimsuit, she wore a white sailor’s cap and ribbon, a nautically themed top, and a red choker.

Undeniably cute. Undeniably catgirl.

Without warning, Keke ripped the iPaw from my hands. For making such a big deal of why I shouldn’t let go of it, she seemed to have a knack for taking it away whenever it suited her.

Her eyes glossed over as she leered at the screen, and her fingers trembled. She rocked on her feet, and, for a moment, I thought she’d faint. I wasn’t exactly in a great position to catch her, but I repositioned myself to try.

“You okay?” I asked, holding my arms uselessly in front of me to steady her.

“Perfectly!” Her eyes cleared, and she shook her head. “Come on. Let’s get your head looked at, and I’ll show you around.”

Oh, right. The minor concussion. “Honestly, it’s feeling better already.”

“Good! I’m glad,” she smiled, the earlier tension evaporating from her shoulders. “Welcome to Ni Island, Matt!”

“I feel indebted already.” The iPaw shrank back to cell phone-sized, and I pocketed it.

Alright. Show me how it’s done, Keke.

PLEASE NOTE

Due to KDP's KU guidelines, chapters 3 - 41 are only available here.

Chapters 42 through the current releases are still free on multiple websites while I slowly move to print and ebook publishing.

Thanks for reading!

[thecircularsystem]

This is actually something I’ve been having to work out in therapy, only I never really thought of phrasing it like “being taken care of” explicitly. I’ve used that phrasing, but the overarching thought behind it is “being a burden.”

There’s multiple levels to that mentality. The first level is timing for me. Growing up, when I was sick, I was taken care of, and that was okay. That was the time I was allowed to be a burden, and my parents doted on me. But every other time, as I got older, when I wasn’t sick? I had to take care of things, or else I was a burden at the wrong time.

The second level was perfectionism. If I was not good at something, I was taught to just let others do it (as they berated me for not doing better). I was told repeatedly that I wasn’t good at cleaning, so others did it for me. I was told I wasn’t good at lifting, or fixing things, or even showering, and so others did it for me. If I wasn’t good at it, someone else handled it.

Now, I’m 26, and laundry takes me twice as long as anyone else I know, because I read the instructions on each piece of clothing to feel confident that I’m doing it right. I cried all through college anytime I had to do the dishes, because I knew — I knew somehow, in the trauma of my memories — my roommates must hate my guts for wasting their time since they’d just have to fix my poor washing job later. God forbid I keep my room clean now. And it’s worse because my parents constantly told me I would fail as an adult because I never did any of the things I needed to do, all of the things I struggle with now.

It’s hell. It’s literal abject hell.

But it’s also fixable. And that’s what I have to keep in mind, particularly when faced with someone giving me help. I was taught to see people offering help as a condemnation of myself; “How dare you be so burdensome that I have to do everything.” It’s been so hard in my relationship, because my fiancé is just so incredibly willing to help. They want my life to be better, so they want to help me when I’m struggling.

So, to chime in with just a few things I’ve spoken to my therapist about:

Step one is figuring out what you are strong at — with no rules. No need for your strengths to be “productive” or “useful.” Just figure out what you’re strong at, and do that, and praise yourself for doing it well. For me, it’s my writing. I can praise myself for that for days now, despite all my life berating myself for not being more useful.

Step two is turning your shame into being humbled, particularly about new things. He always tells me this story of the time he tried to pick up tennis, and the beginner course felt so demeaning and shameful, when really, it was just someone teaching him the basics. He felt shame about needing to be taught how to hold his wrist, because “shouldn’t I know this? I hate to waste their time.” He turned that feeling around into being humble. “These people are so wonderful for taking the time to share their knowledge.” Now when my partner helps me, I have to try and change my thinking to be grateful while simultaneously not putting them up on a pedestal. (This is not easy in the slightest).

Do it scared is a huge motto for me now. You kinda have to. If you don’t ever take that first step to try something, despite how scared you are (of whatever you’re scared of — maybe rejection, or pain, or ‘doing it wrong’) then you’ll never learn how to even try it. My partner has been working on our new house, and I keep freezing because there’s so many things I’ve never done before. I’m terrified I’ll do something wrong. But if I don’t do it, our house won’t be finished being repaired before the school year starts, and that’s our hopeful deadline for moving in. I NEED to do it, and I can’t let fear stop me.

I think that’s all I’ve got in me for a response, but I love the post Feathers. Thanks for speaking up about it. It’s honestly a relief to hear others struggle with the whole accepting help thing, and with learning those lost skills. I suggest to everyone out there like this to invest in some good YouTube tutorials lol.

Honestly a skill that many develop that can be easily missed for those that grew up in abusive or neglectful home is the skill of "receiving / being taken care of" and I really dont see people providing advice or "explain it to me like Im a toddler because I am emotionally at or BELOW that level of understanding it"

And I know in a lot of trauma spaces, people struggle with learned helplessness and/or not knowing how to care for themselves; but I think its important to acknowledge how fucking HARD and confusing and difficult it is to learn - as an adult - how to receive care, attention, or help.

I find, from observation of others, its something that comes a lot more naturally and almost like breathing when someone offers or begins to help out and logically, I know it is easy to break down the steps to 1) someone gives help 2) you accept it (here we are ignoring the entirely other difficult skill of asking for help which is a whole seperate but related thing)

But its like... really not that simple, because even if you physically "accept" the help and they help you, thats only like the surface level application of the skill / concept and ugh

I dont really have the words for it atm and am mostly venting but man, 8 years of therapy and its still such a hard concept and skill for me to learn, apply and integrate into my life. I think - of all the skills I missed due to my trauma and upbringing - its the skill I struggle with the most

(open for anyone to add their two cents on)

[thedaremaster]

Voices in my head.

Ever since I was little

I’ve had voices in my head

So lonely I was

Peers didn’t understand what I said

So I talked to the voices in my head.

As I got older they started to change

The things they said were more than just play

They got harsher, angrier,

It made me a lot sadder.

I still had no friends

Except for the voices in my head.

I learned to shut the world out.

My land of make-believe

Served to be enough for me.

And I stayed there,

Because the world wasn’t ready for me.

Nor was I.

And I talked to the voices in my head.

Named them, a person inside my own head.

Except for one.

More darker than the rest.

He was mean

Said things like how “I was better off dead.”

And sometimes when I was really down.

I believed it.

When I was sad, I imagined all the others hugging my heart together.

Squeezing that muscle that somehow was so so fragile,

Even after everything.

I wish I wasn’t me.

All I had in my life were my words and my stories.

I wasn’t meant to make it in the analytical and critical parties.

And I was so so frustrated, because I was never good enough.

I was never good enough,

For myself.

And the voice reiterated my failures like a death chant

I wondered if it would all stop, if I could just end this stupid dance.

Of my authentic self, and the one I so desperately wanted to be.

I hated me.

And the voices inside my head kept talking.

When I met her, the voices stopped.  For a second, that became a minute,

That became an hour, which turned to a day, then to a week.

My mind was silent.

I loved it.

They broke through sometimes, and I would snap.  Like the hurt little girl I was.

That never gave herself a chance.  

But thankfully they were quiet, most of the time.

When she was gone, they came creeping around again.

I couldn’t help but hold on to the words she said.

A promise to be my forever friend.

God save me.

Those voices were quiet.

Til they came back.

Roaring, louder than ever.

This time all of them unified into one big angry tower.

Of pain and hurt and anguish.

My inner child couldn’t handle it.

I broke down.

Again and again.

Recycled those broken pieces back again.

Foundation wasn’t strong enough.  I wasn’t tough enough.

Then I met him.  It was the same as the first, the voices were quiet,

And I reveled in the silence.

I came back, again and again.  So young and innocent, thinking I had found a forever friend.

Turns out, it was all a lie.  Took me 5 years to come back to my

Senses, to not blindly hate him.  

Hell hath no fury than child whose loyalty was fucking shredded.

And the voices cried out for blood

But I gave them tears instead.

I was so broken,

And yet the war still raged in my head.

Found a brother

From another mother.

And slowly I came back. Piece by piece,

Someone who I could talk to

A place where I could finally be me.

A young love so delicately nurtured.

By unsure fingers, and a weary soldier.

Slowly, slowly, slowly.

The voices were still there, but they were kind of quiet.

Foxy eyes, a convenient slip of tongue.

He found out. And I thought I was done.

The secret I desperately wanted to keep.

Was out in the open before I was ready to take a leap

Of bravery, stupidity, who knew what I was thinking.

And I floundered in the fear that it would all go down

In the same flames, that my young heart had been cauterized in.

And the voices howled in victory, at my obvious defeat.

Til it wasn’t

The lines were unclear.

But it wasn’t as bad as I had feared.

Honestly.  I guess it was better that way.

Better than I had ever prayed.

Hey let’s go out today

Try something new.

Ok

I spent three years in the gray area

“Trying to figure out what I was meant to do” era

And again I was casted aside.

Because I wasn’t “just right”

Now I’m almost 18

And sometimes those voices still scream

Their catastrophic symphonies

But now I’m only half-listening.

Cause I’m still alive

This is my fighting chance.

To change the story.

One last dance.

These voices and I,

Still play games in my mind.

I haven’t grown up yet, so I’m told.

But I might.

And as long as I’m here tonight.

I will hold that pen and write.

All these things I know

You know.

And it feels just right.

And those voices are quiet.

[milkhoney531]

Personal rant

I just realized something. Growing up, I never had my needs met. Most of my life, I never had a bed frame. The only reason I had one after starting kindergarten is because I bought one last year.

The only reason I had clothes that fit me was from old job uniforms, christmas gifts from outside the family, or buying them myself when I got a job. Fuck, I once had a principal buy me an entire outfit because she noticed I wore the same outfits every week.

I haven't been to a doctor since middle school. I don't have a primary care doctor. I had to pay for one of those health clinics after being unable to walk for two years without pain, I let it get so bad that I didn't try to get care until I couldn't stand for 4 hours without vomiting from the pain, and even then it was hell just getting a ride.

I still haven't learned to drive, gotten a state ID, or even been to the dentist since around 2nd grade. I had to beg my Aunt for money just so I can buy a toothbrush and other essentials tomorrow. Hell, she is paying for my drivers lessons on saturday.

I'm going to be 22 next month. I'm moving in July. I own very little, but everything I own right now, I bought. I learned how to sew, self taught, out of necessity. I learned how to fix things for the same reason. A skill none of my siblings have, so they turn to me for help.

Most of what I own is hsnd me down clothes that never fit, so I'm going to be going through them and giving them away. After I move, my aunt is taking me in to help me out with paying for college, I'll have to save up for a new mattress. My current one is a gand me up from my little brothers, who got brand new beds, mine was in a flood and is older than me. More than half if the springs are collapsed and every night I have 1-2 springs trying to stab me in the back.

I don't think this is normal. Why do my siblings always have new, fitting clothes and such? At first I thought it was because I kept helping out financially. But, then I kept thinking back. Even before I had a job or was helping out so much, their needs were always met. Why weren't mine?

I was always expected to just, figure it out. To provide for myself somehow. I mean, I managed, but I was just a kid. I was in kindergarten when I started babysitting my siblings. Literally woken up in the middle of the night to do so. It might have started before kindergarten.

I was always expected to be a parent to my siblings. Always. I would sneak home food from school when they were sick so they could eat. I would skip meals so they had more. I would sell what little I had to pay for food and bills. Hell, I managed to strike a deal with my last period teacher to leave school early in middle school so I could be home to take care if the pets, do chores, help my siblings with homework, and make dinner. Then when I finally went to college the first time, my mom got cancer so I dropped out and came home to help. I worked two jobs, one job had me come in for 10hr shifts every morning, the other for 5hr shifts every night. When it got worse I quit the less paying job and spent my afternoons tending to my mom and trying to keep everyone in one piece.

I've spent my entire life ignoring my needs and wants to make sure everyone else's were met. I wanted desperately for my siblings to have the childhood I never had. I don't want them to ever go through what I do. And I succeeded.

And I think my dad realised that even though I'm helpful and all with everything, he knows that if I stay living with him and my siblings, I'll never be able to get my needs met or become truly independent. So he's kicking me out to go live with my aunt so I can go back to college and save up enough to move out. As scary as it is, I'm thankful for that. But I can't help but worry about my siblings, despite knowing they're in good hands and that they are nearly adults.

It's going to be really weird. I know it'll be good for me, but I can't help but worry.

[emmisays]

My ‘HELLO. WELCOME.’ era

As a writer, I live in constant hope that a metaphor will present itself to me. On a train. At a bar. From the lips of a stranger. In the early hours...

But recently one showed up at my literal door step. And for the first time in a long time, I sat down and wrote. Not a song. Or a hook. And not for anyone or anything in particular. I just wrote. And, as I haven’t shared any music for a little while (I’m sorry and thank you for still being here), I thought I’d share said musings here instead, as a way of checking in and perhaps offering some explanation as to why I’ve been a little quieter than usual of late. So if you aren’t adverse to more than 142 characters in one sitting (I love you), read on... 

Storytime. 

This here is a picture of the corridor at the entrance to my last place.

The day we arrived, only my neighbors had a mat. But as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to buy my own to complete the set. 

I have no idea if the neighbors approved of my little mat jape. We never spoke about it. In fact, we never spoke. (For those of you who don’t live in New York, this is considered the height of good neighborly etiquette. Pretending no one living in the same building as you actually exists is the gift we all give each other.) But whatever their feelings, I personally enjoyed our unspoken hallway banter. The mats always made me smile when I came home. And one of my favourite things to do was to tell visiting friends and guests “I’m the flat at the end of the corridor” so I could watch through the peephole to see which door they assumed was mine. (Shame on you, by the way, if you thought mine was the “Not Welcome” mat. But then again, almost everyone did.)

Soon though it was time to move and I had to pick up my beloved welcome mat and lay it next to a new neighbor’s. 

I took this picture the day we moved in...

To be honest, I was disappointed. My new neighbor’s mat was polite and lovely. Ugh. Boring. I let out a little sigh as I laid it down.

But as I stood up to step over the threshold something hit me in the gut. A good feeling. And a certain calm came over me. And it all felt significant somehow. “Actually, yes! This is good. Hello, Welcome. This is a new start.”

You see, without going into it all here, this year has been a time of quiet recalibration for me. I’ve been cleaning out the home of my “self”, Marie Kondo style, emptying out all the rooms of my heart and mind and turning over each piece of me I find as I ask myself  “Are we taking this with us? Or can we thank this for its service and let this go?”

And in this process, one of the biggest and hardest things I have learned about myself is how instinctively I jump to judge my own thoughts and feelings and desires as either...

POSITIVE or NEGATIVE

GOOD or BAD

RIGHT or WRONG and...

(You saw this coming right?) WELCOME or NOT WELCOME.

When an emotion shows up, my natural filter butler tends to greet it at the door and very quickly decides whether our new guest is a welcome one or not.

The “good” guests are welcomed, warmly. “Ah, Gratitude! Come in, sit down, make yourself at home. You’re so welcome!” The “bad”, however, are ushered up the stairs and locked in the attic. “Anger? We weren’t expecting you. We’d just made up the rooms for Joy. This is most inconvenient. Get up there.” These guests are usually shoved into a dark, locked room and ignored.

Not to labour the point, it turns out I have “WELCOME” and “UNWELCOME” rooms in the house of my mind too. And, as anyone with anxiety will relate, my worst days usually follow a season of so-called “unwelcome” feelings arriving at my door at once.  

One by one I lock them away in the attic of my mind, hoping they will just go away. But they never do of course. It turns out feelings don’t go anywhere until they’ve been given the chance to tell you whatever it is they need you to hear, no matter how helpful or unhelpful their message might be. So when you lock them away and ignore them... and ignore them... and ignore them (as I have been doing to mine for some time now)... they start finding fun new ways to get your attention. They tap on the walls at first. Then bang their fists. Soon they’re stomping on the floors at 3am as you try to sleep. And if you still don’t go up there to see what all the fuss is about, eventually they will set your whole damn house on fire, much like that blokes “mad” wife in ‘Jane Eyre’. 

My point is, locking your emotions away in an attic will be as successful as imprisoning your weird wife in the attic of your home. (I highly recommend not doing either. Your next relationship thanks you.)

So this year, I have been trying something new. Which, thanks to my door mat, I am now dubbing my “Hello, Welcome! Era”. Slowly but surely I have been opening all the locked doors in the house of me and saying “Ok. Come on out. I’m listening.” It’s been a wild ride. Equal parts messy and beautiful and helpful and unhelpful. But the trickiest part? Retiring that critical (but well-meaning) butler and taking charge of my own house again. Not as a judge but as an observer. To simply open the door and greet whatever arrives with an impartial “HELLO. WELCOME.” And let it in.

When joy or desire shows up, I am practicing simply holding it. Watching it. Noticing how it feels in my home. And allowing it to stay as long as it will, without first deciding whether I deserve it, whether I should allow myself to feel it when those I love are somewhere suffering, or whether it’s childish or silly or wrong. And when a wave of sadness or discomfort or fear surges in my belly, I don’t immediately push it upstairs before it can reach me. I take a breath and open the door, and say “HELLO. WELCOME.” And let it come in and take a seat at my table. And I listen. Because I know now, that no matter how inconvenient or difficult or challenging a feeling might be, no guest is worse to deal with upon arrival than they are after months (or indeed years) of gagged captivity. 

It’s an ongoing process of course, one I am yet to master. But since I embarked on this, my “HELLO. WELCOME.” era, life has just been calmer. There is peace. We’re all mad here. But there’s a certain calm to my chaos these days. 

It turns out having tenants living in your home instead of prisoners makes for a much nicer life. No one’s trying to burn my house down anymore. 

END.

If you’re still reading, thank you. And have a Happy Christmas. And if for whatever reason that won’t be possible for you and yours this year, consider this a virtual hug from me to you and your most difficult guests. 

Keep going.

Love, Em x

[heyiwrotesomethings]

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though!  Word Count: 15,088 

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck  only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks,  Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible. 

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed! 

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face.  The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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