#🪶👹 heaven knows your name

[goldenshrine]

i hope nobody lost their head this halloween! 🎃🌕

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⭐️🌷❣️⭐️🌬🍶 Tell me why i come home from pet/housesitting to the sweetest little care package everrrrrrr. T__T i could cry

@funshineharlequinz mwah mwah ure an angel !

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yoshi and 4!!!! >0o)/

4 - surprise kiss

*startled kabuki noises* !!!

[goldenshrine]

temari

yoshimitsu and yari find an abandoned ball during their walk home ♪

content warning: none

word count: 659

Another late afternoon. The last fringe of summer, knotting itself in a seasoned wind traveling south. 

And two figures, half burdened with baskets full of sugary spring water and dumplings, goldfish and morning glories, a drink made from dried loquat leaves—allegedly it makes the tongue curl and teeth dance, but Yoshimitsu never cared much for sweets to begin with, so Yari wonders—and a handful of fireflies.

“Oh, look,” They say. Their basket bounces in tandem with their steps to keep the handle from searing their arm. “That breeze... do you feel it?”

“Ah, the changing of the seasons,” Comes their companion's bell of a voice, “Spring flowers, the autumn moon, summer’s warm breeze and winter’s snow… if thy mind is unclouded by unnecessary things, ‘tis the best season of thy life.”

Yari laughs. “How sage.”

“Such is the wisdom of a demon, naturally!”

The Manjitou residence lies yet another hour or so past the horizon, but they’re in little rush. Their sandals languidly thread rows upon rows of fertilized yarn, staining the soles pollen-green, so deep one might think they’d somehow cut the hills and stepped into its open wound. 

In this boundless stretch of green and slurred cricket-song is, curiously, a bright speckle. Yari breaks into a march to greet it.

“Treasure! Something troubles thou?”

They spin around, lifting the object to their face. “Oh, no, there’s just… someone left a ball all the way out here.”

Upon closer look, the ball blesses them with a myriad of colorful tessellations. An interweaving blue grid dissects it into several neat shapes, each bursting with embroidered dots of pink, red, and orange. It’s quite extravagant looking, actually, and they’d be inclined to treat it with a more delicate hand had it not already modestly sunk in between their fingers.

“Is it worth sending to the nearby village? I’m sure someone misses it… mm, then again, maybe not. Hm.”

They can feel Yoshimitsu watching them, amused. Her mirth seeps through her plated mask, knitting the cracks of her prosthetic as it stretches forward to take the ball. She hums something about appearances and deceiving before her other arm, the one encased in skin instead of wood, releases her basket.

Then, with the spirited grace of an athlete—or perhaps that of a mischief-laden ninja—she launches the thread ball at them.

“Oh—Yo—Yoshi!” They half giggle, half cry, all but curl themself so as to catch it without spilling anything. They touch the ground, step back, toss. Two more steps, another catch.

And so her little trick is rewarded with this: from their belly a dozen dragonflies unfurling, wings abuzz with laughter; from their heart a lick of fire, blue as cornflower and swirling faster, faster; and yes, the hissing of their nostrils; and yes, the fields’ cross-stitching their bare toes while they run. Oh, how Yari wants to run forever. With Yoshimitsu at their side, they feel like they really can.

The Manji leader, however, seems to have other plans.

Their ball, once a fiery spot of sky zipping through the hillside, now warms the earth alongside a long forgotten sandal. Yoshimitsu’s back meets deep shadow and Yari joins her. The grass purrs under their body, tousling the locks growing at their nape. It tickles, but not uncomfortably so—they close their eyes and feel the occasional brush of their sister’s knuckles as she braids their hair. They open them and brown fingers thin into stalks of September-green; and anyway, their hair hasn’t been the proper length for braids in years.

“A beauteous day, indeed,” Yoshimitsu sings abruptly. “I thank thee for the accompaniment.”

Yari shifts onto their side, a smile gracing their dotted skin as they reach forward to hook their fingers over hers—easy to pull tight, easy to let go, and the ninja rarely does. Rolling back, feeling the ground pattern their shoulder blades and their heart pulsing in their nail beds from where the two are joined, they reply, “You’re welcome.”

[goldenshrine]

15 for the kiss meme w yoshimitsu <3

15 - kiss on a dare

Yoshimitsu: Bah! Such a juvenile trick.

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16 for the kiss meme perhaps 🧡? --🐺🌲

16 - kiss while being carried

flea stance........ two!

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EVERYBODY STOP WHAT URE DOING RIGHT NOW AND LOOK AT THIS!!!!!!!!!’nn IM SO SERIOUS STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I GOT MY TRADE FEOM @funshineharlequinz ANDDD *RIPPING THE TILES OUT OF MY FLOOR AND SHATTERING THEM WITH MY BARE HANDS AND AND AND*

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dali si znao? o tebi snila sam san.

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a buncha soulkids! ft @913cell

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my, my! greetings, little bird. 🎃

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ghibli hugs!!

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like the lazy ocean hugs the shore

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star-crossed

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(๑-﹏-๑)=

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steal a kiss from the manjitou leader while hes meditating

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yoshiyari but they r sky kids