#ayame ;; drabble

[laugtherhyena]

I think one of the most painful aspects of writing a long as fic is that sometimes you just REALLY wanna write something that happes way later down the line and it makes writing the current segments harder, not necessarily because you're not enjoying what you're writing now, just that your brain jumping to some crazy thing way ahead of time.

[minteayoongimakesmewoozi]

i'm still (yes, still!) thinking about the fits hashira au remix where ayame is the sabito to tanjirou's giyuu, and...

the rengoku family.

ayame's story has always been intertwined with the rengokus, and this au is no different. we still have shinjurou, kyoujurou and senjurou, but maybe ayame's shishou is shinjurou this time.

shinjurou finds ayame not long after her entirely family is slaughtered. he isn't quite as cynical as we see him in canon, so he offers to train her. he makes her his apprentice, and she trains alongside kyoujurou in those early years.

ayame is a year older than kyoujurou, but she teasingly calls him senpai. he's been training with shishou longer than she has, after all! between her training sessions with kyoujurou under shinjurou's steadily clearing eyes and helping them look after senjurou, she finds her smile after a couple years.

sometimes she leaves to train with tanjirou - with shinjurou's and urokodaki-san's blessing, of course. kyoujurou is hard-working, but shinjurou knows the importance of constantly sparring with a peer. he still thinks his apprentice and son have no talent for swordsmanship, that they would be better off doing something else, but it eases something within him to know that kyoujurou will have ayame to look out for him.

shinjurou never imagines ayame wouldn't come back from final selection.

senjurou is the one who greets tanjirou at the entrance. it's been a week after final selection and shinjurou already has a sake bottle in hand when he stumbles out to the genkan with kyoujurou.

instead of his apprentice, it is urokodaki-san's boy standing before him. he holds out ayame's seigaiha kimono with shaking hands, tears streaming down his cheeks.

ah, shinjurou thinks. so she died after all. just as he suspected, breath of flame simply isn't powerful enough.

"i'm sorry," whispers tanjirou.

shinjurou lifts his sake jug to his lips and takes a long drag. the bitterness in his throat, he tells himself, is merely the alcohol.

kyoujurou unfreezes himself. he pulls a crying senjurou into his arms, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"how?" he asks, even if the answer is plain to see.

"there... there was an oni. i was - i was injured, and she - she protected me. she took my mask and my - and she... she protected me. she protected everyone."

"ridiculous," shinjurou growls. "utterly useless."

at her strength, she should have known better. he thought he taught her better than that, but he was wrong. he should have known better; he wasn't a teacher. the only things he could teach fell apart when it mattered most.

what good is a flame hashira when they can't even protect what matters most?

he always knew she would never become a hashira. he just never thought she would fail to become a demon slayer.

"it's my fault," tanjirou sobs.

"no." shinjurou takes another swig of bitter, bitter sake. "it was her own fault. she was weak, and now she's dead."

"chichi-ue," kyoujurou gasps, pressing senjurou's face into his shoulder to muffle his brother's sobs. "don't say that about ayame-neesan!"

"don't be absurd! she was never going to amount to anything!" of course she wasn't. she was his apprentice. "of course she died. she was merely average. stop your pathetic crying."

perhaps this will serve as a lesson to kyoujurou. he should throw away his ambition of becoming a demon slayer. just like ayame, he wouldn't even survive final selection.

shinjurou spirals.

he drinks enough to blackout when kyoujurou leaves for final selection anyway. he doesn't try to dissuade him. let him learn that lesson the hard way.

kyoujurou makes it back - alive - but shinjurou knows it must be luck. sheer, foolhardy luck. none of his students will amount to anything.

he drinks to forget, but he always remembers.

until one day he can't even fulfil his duties. kyoujurou steps up, fiercely and without hesitation. a fool.

an idiot.

(he is as much shinjurou's apprentice as ayame was.)

"how do you know that name?" kyoujurou asks.

it's another bout of luck that he survived a battle with upper three. he will never be able to use breath of flame again, but he is alive.

sake is still bitter on shinjurou's tongue.

"huh?" the peach-haired boy who headbutted him utters.

"ayame-neesan," senjurou whispers, loud enough to be heard through the paper-thin walls. "no one... we don't talk about her."

"... she was rengoku-san's apprentice, wasn't she?"

"yes, but..." kyoujurou clears his throat uncomfortably. "she died long ago. years ago. before i joined the kisatsutai."

"did... d-did kamado-san tell you?" asks senjurou.

"ha! that depressed loner? i don't think he speaks to anyone, really."

"th-then how...?"

"eto... it's difficult to explain. do you - do you believe in ghosts, rengoku-san, senjurou-san?"

ghosts. of course they exist. shinjurou is haunted every single day.

he tunes out the foolhardy boy - the one who is a descendant of breath of sun users. someone who wields such power would never understand the loss that shinjurou knows intimately.

"she told me she had a message," sabito says. "she wasn't sure if that guy ever had a chance to give it."

"kamado-san doesn't speak to us," kyoujurou says, surprisingly frustrated. "if he relayed it to chichi-ue, we were unaware."

"oh." a pause. "well, ayame told me - that is, ayame-san said she wanted her shishou to know that she was grateful for everything. she wouldn't have gotten so far if it hadn't been for everything he had taught her."

"oh." then again, in a softer voice, "oh."

"ano..." sabito is speaking again. "that guy... his haori. it's... unique."

"seigaiha. because he's the water hashira." kyoujurou makes an uncertain sound. "senjurou and i gave it to him. it was ayame-neesan's."

"ah. i see."

"he blames himself," kyoujurou continues. "no matter how much i try to talk to him, he always avoids me. i guess it'll be easier now. for him."

"ah..."

"if you have something to say to - to kamado-san, you should say it, sabito-san. if it's really true... if you can talk to ayame-neesan even now..."

"somehow," a shaky laugh, "i feel like i shouldn't tell him."

"you should try anyway," kyoujurou says bluntly. "you're his tsuguko. he'll listen to you."

"... mn."

"don't pressure him, aniue."

"but - "

"thank you for your time," sabito interjects. "i learned a lot."

senjurou gives sabito a flame-shaped tsuba.

"it isn't mine," rengoku-san assures him. "it was actually meant to be ayame-neesan's. you should use it."

sabito jolts. "me?"

"yes. i think she wants to protect you. that was the kind of person she always was."

in some ways, sabito is glad that ayame only appears intermittently. she would be embarrassed otherwise.

he thinks about their last conversation - how she said something bound her to this plane of existence. for a really long time, he thought it was guilt over how she had left things with kamado-san.

maybe that wasn't all.

senjurou fidgets with the hem of his sleeves. "she would have preferred it if you had used it, aniue..."

rengoku-san laughs. it's wheezier than his booming laughter from before, but just as boisterous. "then i would have still passed it on to sabito shounen!"

"aniue..."

rengoku-san's expression turns solemn. "the one thing ayame-neesan always hated was feeling helpless. this way, at least a part of her can still offer protection - for your hands and katana, if nothing else. take care of it, sabito shounen."

the tsuba is brand new. there isn't a single scratch on it. it hasn't seen a day of battle. only where it was kept in rengoku-san's pocket all these years.

sabito wonders what ayame might have been like, if they had a chance to meet in this living world. he can see traces of her in senjurou's kindness, in rengoku-san's beautiful arcing movements. even if death, there is still something that remains.

ayame would be embarrassed to know that.

he should tell her the next time they see each other, he thinks.

[wickermayne]

nsfw! Naruto/Ayame triple drabble

Conceptually, Ayame knew shinobi were strong. That they could easily do things that civilians would need tools or machines for — and that was only scratching the surface in the difference of strength.

She truly realized the difference in practice, being manhandled by Naruto as though she weighed nothing.

Her small body crushed against him, legs folded, her calves resting over Naruto’s biceps, the strong muscles bulging, keeping her lifted off the ground.

Being carried and fucked like she was a mere toy, Naruto not breaking a sweat as he lifted and sat her on his cock like he could keep her there for days.

The thought of it had her dripping wet. Naruto’s cock stretching her out as he pounded her cunt, Ayame’s ass slapping loud against Naruto’s toned thighs had her gushing.

“What are you thinkin’ bout, sis?” Naruto murdered into her throat between harsh kisses, teeth leaving behind bruising marks that would bloom pretty on her pale skin. “I’m tryna fuck your brains out and your heads lost in the clouds. Guess I’d better take it up a notch, yeah?”

His pace became rougher, her cunt splattering her arousal over his thighs ever time he filled her balls deep, her feet bouncing in the air as he bounced her on his cock.

“Fuck, ohmigod, n-no feels so amazing, Naruto-kun…I just, god, you’re so strong.”

Naruto chuckled dark and sweet like her favourite chocolate, “‘Course I am, sis. I saved the world, y’know?”

His cock was her entire world then, so Ayame didn’t have the composure to explain to him it was more basic than that, more primal.

Like instinct to lay on her back and spread her thighs for him whenever he wished.

She’d tell him after, when she was finished soaking his cock with orgasm after orgasm.

[hirak0s]

She had every reason to have her bankai; her confidence was back; she let go of the past; people were depending on her, they believed in her; and she was trusting others again… She had even told one that she trusted him with her life and now the life of another soul. Ayame just had to talk to Rakkagan for a nice long talk, and see if that mirror image of hers would finally crack.

Ayame had ended up sitting in Kisuke's lap, holding her sword, with both hands, while cross-legged. She knew she could do this. Closing her eyes, she worked on focusing on speaking with her Zanpakuto Spirit in her inner world. Rakkagan was there, in the theater of empty seats, as a mirror image of Ayame. Sitting on the stage, her legs were crossed, dangling over the edge, bouncing forward and back. The two got along well, but Ayame had yet to crack the mirror image. Today was going to be the day she did it.

The blonde would approach the other, hoping words would finally sway this stubborn Spirit of hers. "There're people out there who trust me, believe in me, and I believe in myself an' trust that I can follow through with everythin' goin' on." Which, admittedly, wasn't much other than incubating a soul at the moment while chasing hollows, doing paperwork, doing something she loved, and being with someone she loved.

The snooty 'blonde' woman shook her head. "But do you really believe those words you speak?" The mirror image made sure she was speaking the truth and actually did believe in herself. Have that confidence she once had back; she mended everything. Every reason, she gave Ayame her shikai…

" 'course I do! I'm not lettin' 'em down. I've let the past go—not sayin' I forgive or that I'm ever gonna forget what Aizen did, but… To move forward, I gotta let go of it. I can' stay b'hind anymore. I gotta continue on! Get my feet goin' in the right direction." Ayame was adamant in her words as she spoke to the other.

"You believe you can wield your bankai without any qualms? With what it can do? Including the preparation and the thought needed to go into it?" The mirror image was cracking, about to shatter even. "So be it…" That mirror image would shatter and there stood a woman with purple hair, not blonde, and her hair was longer than Ayame's. Her eyes were nearly white, with a pupil to… indicate which direction she was looking. The woman had a rather wide-brimmed hat on and wore a dress that looked similar to an iris. "Then allow me to introduce myself again, as your bankai, Rakkagan-jou-ou."

Ayame stood there, amazed at the woman. So her spirit had been messing with her this whole time. A mirror reflection to hide what-- And then that hit her—that's been a lot of what she had been doing. Hiding. Her lack of confidence caused most of it. A week or so ago, it was simply nerves, not confidence bottoming out. Though she was curious, what could be so dangerous about this Bankai? "With what it can do?"

"You get into the head of someone else; force them into an illusion before you puppet the body around to attack their allies." There was a smile on her face. "And the illusion they have to live through is fighting themselves, just as you've had to deal with me… and fighting your own inner battles. Except they'll be fighting an illusion of themselves. In most cases, they die to the illusion; they die on the field, not knowing they've killed people they sided with. You shouldn't have to use this very often. But I'm sure you understand there's a risk of using it on an ally if you don't focus on the right person." This meant Ayame had to be tactical but also careful, and as for where the confidence came in… She had to be confident in that ability, and herself, or someone could break out of that illusion.

That… did sound complicated, and Ayame was in awe that it still needed to be illusionary, and it still involved mind tricks and strings, but she now understood why her Zanpakuto spirit kept it away from her for so long. "Thank you… fer believin' in me 'nough to give me my bankai." And now, how was she to train it? Felt like hollows wouldn't have the right kind of consciousness to get through to their little thoughts. But… she could try after she came out of her inner world.

The purple-haired woman watched the young blonde before her and said, "Just don't make me regret it. You are strong and have rebounded from what you would consider your worst years, yet you persevere and move on. Do remember my words; it is a dangerous bankai if used on the wrong person. However, if you believe they to be able to best themselves in a fight, you could perhaps use it on another shinigami." Ayame had to trust her judgment as well when it came to using it. Pick the right person on the battlefield—the strongest one. "There are options for training… But, you have to trust your instincts and experience; make the calls from here." The woman couldn't call the shots for her in a fight.

That… felt like a lot of weight, but she was ready to handle it, though she did have at least one person in mind who was more than capable of handling himself in a fight with himself—that would be her own brother. Potentially Kisuke too, but did she want to do that? She didn't want to hurt either of them, but both of them were perfectly capable of holding their own. It wouldn't hurt to ask first and explain what she was doing, though. Ayame thanked her Zanpakuto spirit again before leaving her inner world.

Eyes opening once more, still sitting in Kisuke's lap, hands holding onto the sheath of her Zanpakuto. "I did it; she lemme have it." Ayame didn't sound hyped up or excited, but calm.

@uraharashouten

[hirak0s]

Ayame had lost track of time while working on a few orders. She had been sitting in the gigai cloakroom, humming to herself. Eventually, she had started to sing the lyrics of the song in her head. The woman had hoped that no one was listening, not the least bit confident in her own singing ability.

As soon as she heard someone near the cloakroom, she stopped singing and looked out to see who it was. Ah! It was Kisuke, and he wanted her to come with him. Well, she needed a little break from sewing, so she left her station and went over to him. With her eyes covered, he promised her a surprise, which made her giggle with excitement.

When they arrived, and he removed his hands from her eyes, she looked around, and it looked like a day of pampering was in order. "Aw Kisu-pyon! Ya didn' have to!" But she was thrilled that he did it anyway. White Day - OH! Her eyes widened when she realized that was today. "I-it's White Day?" Maybe she needed to take more breaks from the sewing machine… She nuzzled her head against his chin. A hand reached up to gently rub the side of his face.

Ayame began to undress to get into the bath, getting some help from Kisuke to remove her annoying clothes that were starting to feel a little tight lately. The woman carefully sat down in the warm water, enjoying the mountain of bubbles. She grabbed some and held them in her hands… before placing the bubbles on Kisuke's head. Her toes wiggled when he picked up her foot.

She listened to the rest of his treats, which were quite sweet! There was a pleased hum at the sweets he described. Realizing she had never had homemade marshmallows before… or regular ones even. He could give her anything and she'd be happy.

The woman would absolutely hate his work go to waste, so it was good that the marshmallows were not brought into the bath. She uttered a soft sigh as he worked with her feet, "they've been a little bit sore lately… but I think it's 'cause I've been sittin' on 'em." Ayame did sit on her knees in the gigai room. "I can't wait to try wha'cha've made." Oh, she wanted to cuddle up with him in the bathtub, but the foot rub was so good.

A White Day drabble for @hirak0s

He'd drawn a hot bath—but not too hot. After all, the idea was to coddle, not cook, and he'd not risk going above 38.3°C lest he endanger future developments. He'd added to it salts, and scents—and bubbles! A towering, frothing mass of bubbles that resembled a snowdrift... and might remind her of their winter adventures, if the bath itself did not. Of course he'd supplied the room with fluffy bleached towels, and creamy lotions and white talcums to be applied afterwards. The fragrance of jasmine and white lilies—just a hint, so as not to overwhelm her delicate senses—perfumed the air. In the hands of a true craftsman, a bath could be a magical experience. Or so he hoped.

Standing behind her, Kisuke steered Ayame, hands covering her eyes, slowly toward his pièce de résistance.

"Aaaaaaand voila!" he exclaimed, dropping his hands to her shoulders. "Happy White Day, Ayame-chan." Grinning, he bent to nuzzle the top of her head.

A few minutes later, when he'd helped relieve her of her garments and settle in, he took the liberty of joining her, sliding into the opposite end to face her. "In case you're wondering," he said, reaching for one of her feet and cradling it in his hands, "there will be sweets. I've managed to make some almond nougat." His hands began to knead the sole, thumbs pressing in opposite circular motions. "And some traditional homemade marshmallow!" He sounded rather pleased with himself. "But I believe water would prove to be their natural enemy, so I'm afraid they'll have to wait to be enjoyed until afterwards. For now... my hands will be your treat."

[freeeggbailiffcash]

[Lol, a face Kahar would go to war for🤣🤣🤣]

[Short drabble for Dancer! Fakhri agenda🤣🤣]

Puan Faniza is a good, great even, English teacher.

She was kind, friendly, outgoing. She listened to the students' problem and always gave them the benefit of the doubt.

"Andak, oooh kekanda Andak~ Adinda rasa....Apehal laa nama kau ni Andak, setan. Panggil kau Landak lagi bagus."

There several chuckles following the derailed dialogue.

"Dinda Primadona, kenapa laa Adinda punya badan lagi berketak dari Kekanda, apa kata dinda sahaja la pergi berperang." came the snide reply.

"KAHAR! FAKHRI! STOP MAKING YOUR OWN DIALOGUES AND STICK TO SCRIPT!!!" Puan Faniza screeched, losing all her benevolent fun English teacher aura.

Right.

To be fair, Puan Faniza is a kickass awesome teacher.

But when it comes drama plays, she was an absolute dictator—the fucking monster of everyone's nightmare.

After getting caught in a Setel match by Mr Sin, who was conveniently making rounds around the hostel, the entirety Form 4 and Form 5 had been hounded and roped into a reformation camp.

But the principal couldn't mete out any heavy punishments wihtout alerting the Alumni Club who had...strong feelings about uphplding the High Council tradition.

And Mr Sin has long knew that "boys will be boys" and the next time he'd catch any one of them in a fight would be awfully too soon. It just happens that he had stumbled onto one of Puan Faniza's old manuscripts that just happens to be a play.

Mr Sin liked Puan Faniza, he really did; She was one of the nicer teacher who didn't bad mouth him behind his back. But the play and script were awful.

It was some half baked attempt at diverging into one of the old Malay warriors but instead of choosing someone famous like Mat Kilau or Dato Maharajalela, she had focused on a completely minor character that was barely known.

And to boot, she made it a blooming love story between the warrior falling in love with an esteemed dancer of that time.

The story, the dialogues, the characters were all poorly written and looked almost akin to a Malay version of Twilight. But Mr Sin supposed maybe it was a better love story? Maybe?

So, decidedly, Mr Sin thought that dreadful cheesy play would be the perfect absolute punishment to give out to the boys. Ans if it made her happy that her play was finally coming to life then no harm done, right?

But Puan Faniza wanted everything to align with her vision of the play which meant she did everything as outrageously 'original' as possible.

One of the things she did was putting all the character names in a box and had the students chose randomly their assigned characters.

It just so happens to be Kahar had gotten the lucky main character name, "Andak"... while Fakhri had gotten the role of Primadona, the dancer love interest of Andak.

Everyone, except the two unfortunae souls had snickered loudly ahen the roles were assigned.

The following days of rehearsing and practicing, were not fun, to say the least.

On the third day, Fakhri, acting out as Primadona, had all but given his flatest rejection to Andak, Kahar's character.

Needless to say, it became more of a comedy rather than historical drama like Puan Faniza intended because Kahar and Fakhri kept changing the script while the rest of their crew failed to hide the guffaws.

On the seventh day, everyone stayed there until almost 2 am because Kahar couldn't stop the grimace or scowl forming on his face each time he was supposed to utter the words, "Jantung kanda berdegup bukan kerana takut... tetapi kerana dinda telah menyentuh sesuatu yang tiada senjata pun mampu sentuh—jiwa kanda." To a smug Fakhri who was discreetly giving him the middle finger. Puan Faniza yelled "AGAIN" until she almost lost all her voice.

By the twelfth day, most of the boys had either given up on taking the play seriously or were just in it for the laughs. Hakeem and Ayam had even been making a compilation of the most hilarioust moment for the bloopers

Except Puan Faniza, who had lost her voice twice already from screaming “STAY IN CHARACTER!” and had started whisper-screaming like some sort of angry ghost.

That Thursday evening, right after prep, was supposed to be the Tari Inai by Primadona rehearsal.

Everyone expected a joke.

Fakhri didn’t talk much that evening. He had showed up early, in a black tunic and a borrowed selendang slung loosely over his shoulders, with some red cloths tied neatly around his waist to make his movements looked flowy.

Kahar was late, of course, sauntering into the hall with a kuih keria in hand and zero expectations.

He was mid-bite when the gamelan sounds started.

Fakhri stepped forward.

There was no warning, no snide remark, no mocking smirk. Just movement—calculated, elegant, and devastatingly graceful.

The dance was soft but sharp, fingertips slicing the air in practiced curves. His body flowed with the music, each motion anchored in rhythm and breath.

When he turned and dipped low, there was a strength beneath the smoothness—like silat disguised as seduction.

Even the noisy Form 5s went quiet.

Kahar froze, lips parted, half-eaten kuih forgotten in his hand.

He hated this.

He hated how easily Fakhri slipped into this other skin—mysterious, poised, haunting. How his usual annoying confidence became something else entirely under the light.

He hated the strange, hot feeling creeping under his skin.

“Oi,” Hakeem whispered beside him. “Kau okay akk?”

Kahar didn’t reply.

Because in that moment, Fakhri caught his eye—just for a second—during a slow spin. And instead of looking smug like usual, he looked...

Calm.

Unreachable.

Beautiful.

Like everything else, Fakhri did the Tari Inai perfectly to a T, his movements were hyonotic, fluid yet sharp.

He spun, then crouched low into a defensive stance, arms out like wings, before arching backward in a ghostly, sensual move.

When the music stopped, the silence held.

Fakhri stood still in the final pose, breathing slightly heavy, selendang brushing the floor. His eyes didn’t leave Kahar’s.

Kahar blinked first.

"Jadi? Apakah tarian ini cukup elok buat menghibur hati kekanda?" Fakhri asked, voice low, almost teasing. "Atau haruskah adinda menari lagi, hingga kekanda benar-benar rebah oleh lenggok adinda?”

Kahar's throat felt dry and try as he might, he couldn't fucking form a proper response.

From the corner, Puan Faniza sobbed quietly. “YES. YES. KAHAR! THAT'S THE FACE YOU NEED TO MAKE WHEN ANDAK SEES PRIMADONA FOR THE FIRST TIME!"

Internally, Kahar knew he was fucked.

[lady-boketto]

Difference in Taste! (Random Drabble)

A/n: Honestly this was one of those random scenarios that pop up in your head and unlike the other ones I had to write this one out, I also included a lot of characters so I put it under the cut

It's one of those rare afternoons where you have the pleasure of passing the time not really doing anything but relishing in the peaceful comfort of your home with your beloved partner.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity of your significant other's already sparse time, you were determined to spend some quality time with them as you thought the day was perfect for a outdoor picnic with bright blue skies and the temperatures being well above the average day, yet the day was still accompanied by a slight breeze with the warm summer air.

As you walked with your arm linked with your partner through the field you both wandered into, your eyes scanned the surrounding for a perfect spot to set up your picnic blanket when your irises catch a nearby oak tree that is providing a nice umbrella of shade.

With the blanket set up nicely in the shade of oak tree, your significant other is already starting to unpack all your belongings and placing them down eagerly on the soft fabric of the blanket, clearly overjoyed to relax with their love one while also enjoying the food the both of you had spent the better part of the morning preparing.

while in their warm embrace you decide to fill the silence with mindless conversation, it's mostly what has captured your attention that day (whether it's mindless banter or enticing gossip you have to tell, your significant other is always listening with a smile with on their face while trying to keep the conversation to the best of their ability) while in the middle of answering your previous thought of what would be the most diabolical smash or pass topic, you think of a another thought that would hopefully shake your partner's thoughts and they finally stumble over their words.

" How do you think I'd taste? what you you think?"

Those whose minds thought you meant food wise:

JJK: Kiyotaka Ijichi, Utahime Iori, Yuta, Miwa, Takuma Ino, Mahito

AOT: Zeke, Annie, Bertholdt, Mikasa, Hange

Inuyasha: Ayame, Ginta, Hakkaku, Inuyasha, Kikiyo, Sango

CoD: Gaz, Konig, Roze, Kleo, Gus, Farah, Soap

Demon Slayer: Mitsuri, Giyuu, Rengoku, Kanae, Akaza, Daki, Makio

RDR2: Arthur, John, Bill, Molly, Kieran, Mary-Beth, Lenny, Swanson, Pearson, Mary, Lemuel Fike

Those who are confused on how to answer because they understand both meanings:

JJK: Nanami, Nobara, Megumi, Maki, Mai, Noritoshi, Choso

AOT: Erwin, Levi, Onyankopon

Inuyasha: Kagome, Kagura, Sesshomaru

CoD: Price, Ghost, Rodolfo, Chuy, Laswell, Alex

Demon Slayer: Urokodaki, Tamayo, Gyomei, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, Kokushibo, Hinatsuru, Obanai

RDR2: Abigail, Charles, Hosea, Trelawny, Sadie, Grimshaw, Tilly, Black Belle, Bonnie

Those whose minds went straight into the gutter:

JJK: Gojo, Yuji, Shoko Ieiri, Toji, Geto, Yuki Tsukumo, Mei Mei, Inumaki, Todo, Naoya

AOT: Armin, Jean, Colt, Reiner, Porco, Eren, Mike, Conny

Inuyasha: Hiten, Jakotsu, Koga, Miroku, Naraku, Toga

CoD: Nova, Alejandro, Enzo Reyes, Horangi, Valeria, Graves, Makarov

Demon Slayer: Shinobu, Uzui, Sanemi, Shinjuro, Muzan, Doma, Gyutaro, Suna

RDR2: Dutch, Javier, Karen, Micah, Sean, Eagle Flies, Flaco, Madam Nazar

[helenabuu32]

Hey! I haven’t been on tumblr for probably over a decade at this point, so this is my first post introducing myself to get back into it!

My name is Bea! I’m Canadian, 25f, Pagan, bi and used to be a full time artist (polymer clay, jewelry, painting, drawing, etc). I’ve always liked writing self insert fanfics for my own enjoyment when I can’t find a fic to scratch a particular itch, and always thought it would be fun to run an ask blog where I can take requests or post my own hcs, drabbles/oneshots, and even some art for my favourite characters!

My current 24/7 obsession is JJBA, especially Golden Wind, and specifically, Leone Abbacchio. My favourite parts are 3 and 5 and I’m currently on part 6 of the anime! Other anime’s I love are Fruits Basket, Dragon Ball, Darker than Black, Inuyasha and much more that I cannot think of atm.

I also love Buffy, The Boys, and have been enjoying Invincible and most recently The Bear! I love video games and I’m a huge Nintendo nerd - Twilight Princess is my favourite game of all time and I love LoZ and animal crossing! Also love stuff like Stardew Valley and casual horror games. Baldurs Gate 3 and DND stuff are super awesome too. As far as music goes, I’d say I’m an alt/punk rock gal but here are my favourite bands: MCR, Nirvana, Sublime, Gorillaz, One-Eyed Doll, Evanescence. I do also indulge in late 90’s/2000’s pop!

Here’s some characters I would LOVE to write for if anyone would like to give me a chance!

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure:

Part 2: Joseph Joestar, Caesar

Part 3: Jotaro Kujo, old Joseph Joestar, Kakyoin, Polnareff, Avdol

Part 5: Bucciarati, ABBACCHIO, Mista, Fugo, Narancia, Giorno and Trish (this is the part/fandom I’d love to write for most ATM)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer:

Buffy, SPIKE, Angel, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Giles, Oz, Tara, Anya, Dawn

The Boys:

BUTCHER, Frenchie, Kimiko, MM, Hughie, would love to do some HCs for the 7 too!

Fruits Basket:

Literally everyone, but Kyo, Hatsuharu, Hatori and Ayame are favs

Stardew Valley:

I would honestly write HCs for anyone but I would love to do stuff for SEBASTIAN, Sam, Abigail, Leah, Elliott, Maru, Shane, Penny, Harvey….basically any romancable character!

I’ll update when I can think of more characters as well!

Since this blog is a clean slate, I’ll most likely follow anyone back but I do ask that we keep mutuals to 18+ please! I’m honestly pretty lonely when it comes to talking to people about fandom stuff so I would love to make some friends on here and my messages and asks will always be open :)

[semi-otaku]

paring: Ayame Sohma x Kazuma Sohma warnings: tooth rotting fluff author’s note: This is a repost of a drabble and drawing that dedicated to my beloved @feralchattylurker 💜 This was inspired by the Fruits Basket au that lives rent free in my head that I swear I will write one day.

Ayame pouted. “It is such a shame, really. You would have had the prettiest hair if only you would have just taken care of it.”

He was standing over Kazuma, his fingers combing through the freshly trimmed edges of his dark hair while his other hand held silver scissors. It curled at his shoulders, still drying from the wash he insisted on giving Kazuma before he started cutting it, and with the split ends gone, it was already so very soft.

Kazuma hummed at first, turning another page of Shigure’s latest book. “I think the real shame is that I did not meet you sooner so you could have shown me how to take proper care of it,” he responded with his teasing tone, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes that did not lift from the pages, but Ayame saw how they formed with the same smile that often swept him from his feet. 

Kazuma continued, unaware of the molten gold gaze that burned in the back of his head. “But I have you now, and this will grow back,” he finished.

Ayame held still, brown tendrils still curled around his fingers. This is how it always was, and despite their time together, he found it still rattled him: this kindness that Kazuma carried with his cadence, his simple actions, and how it slowly cracked through the coquette mask he wore for the world. It was startling in the beginning, but that was before he could comprehend Kazuma’s genuine nature. 

It still left Ayame flustered pink and his visceral reaction sparkled in Kazuma’s dark eyes when he noticed.

But right now, his focus was on the printed romance in his hands. Burning bright, Ayame decided that he would dare tease Kazuma back. He bent at his narrow waist until his chin hovered Kazuma’s shoulder, pressing close until his lips tickled his ear. “Well then, I think we should cut it even shorter so you can showcase your sexy jawline,” he whispered, his teeth nipping.

Kazuma’s smile spread in response, but he never faltered. His reaction was fluid, smooth like silk as his thumb bookmarked the page he was on while his other hand wrapped around Ayame’s elbow, the heat of his palm pooling through the fabric of his sleeve and rooting him. Kazuma turned his head, pulling him closer to capture his lips, his kiss the embodiment of everything Ayame loved about him: gentle, always careful, and so very warm. 

It always had a dizzying effect and Ayame felt his blood searing to the surface. 

Kazume pulled away, his smile still in place and his dark eyes relishing the red that now stained Ayame’s cheeks. “Whatever you think is best,” his voice was low and he tilted his chin up to place another chaste kiss to Ayame’s lips. “I trust you.” 

Ayame already knew this, but he would never grow tired of hearing it.

misc. fandom masterlist

[fatuismooches]

hi :) i see your responses to my asks :) i see your reblogs :) i am absolutely not about to add sodium to the tea i am having rn :)

in all seriousness though oh my goodness smooches ;; i am glad i decided to take a little break from writing for now and be greeted with an influx of notifications alongside your responses to my asks and reblogs to the little thingies i published, just the perfect obliteration my heart needed to perfect my night <3

in response to your excitement about my kabuki series, ME TOO !! good god you don't know how over the damn moon i am just thinking about tomorrow like .. i should probably get a breather because this much excitement, while not new to me because i'm always excited, is about to annihilate my heart lmao

and now in response to your reblog of my fatui kuni drabble, yes. fucking yes. sorry excuse my language BUT. I GET IT. dearest when i tell you it's something i think about a lot — that drabble is actually what i wrote back when i was taking a walk near the seashore about i believe two weeks ago! but that aside, walks around snezhnaya with scara are like everything to me. like imagine him accompanying you to town or along the outskirts — very and i mean very attentively listens to you musings about everything and nothing because he doesn't have much to offer in comparison to what he wholeheartedly believes to be heaven in your eyes as you talk about very simple things ( i shall cut my rambling there because i have a whole series for fatui kuni that is primarily themed around that concept hehe ).

as for the 'nushi thesis...............

oops ~

no but this bitch had me on a chokehold for SO LONG, that i ended up writing not only lore but many, many other things as well from the small to the big deadass ended up being a presentation because i have arranged a design sheet and even chose a fucking theme for him. but king deserves it so (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

there is so much i could say right now, so much i can express but bloody hell i like, can't because i have successfully melted into a puddle out of sheer joy :')

YOUR HCS FOR KABUKI BTW ARE SO SO REAL !! SPEAK YOUR TRUTH QUEEN !!

goodness .. dear smooches, dear mutual, dear fellow tea addict /lh lover, to say that your responses have made my night would be one of the biggest understatements i've ever made in life :') like omg i am thinking of a way i could respond to every little thing you mentioned in your responses to my asks and in your reblogs, but i think the bright smile painting my puffy face rn is more than indicative of how genuinely thankful and happy i am 🤍

thank you and incredible lot. i hope mundanities with kabukimono hits in all the right ways and you get to enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing for it. i cannot wait to walk this journey with you and many others <3

— signed with much ( platonic ) love, ayame.

( don't tell kuni that i almost cried because tumblr ate the ask i previously sent you, please and thank you :') ).

the way i am actually about to cry because tumblr keeps having the ask i sent you just a minute ago as a meal............. i swear to god if this one gets sent unlike the other i am going to swallow a biscuit whole /j /nsrs

AYAME NOOOO IM SO SO SORRY TUMBLR CAN BE AN ASS LIKE THAT SOMETIMES 😭😭 But i am so glad to have received this ask from you omg, i love it sm ❤️ And you don't even need to thank me, I'm always happy to support and gush over your writing :)) I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND ABOUT BEING EXCITED TO POST there have been a bunch of times when i wanted to just post something at that instant instead of waiting (kabukimono series was an example when i literally posted back to back instead of spacing it out, i was SO READY 😭)

AND NGL YOU LITERALLY OPENED MY MIND TO SNEZHNAYAN WALKS WITH KUNI... i never thought about it before but. MWAH. i love the idea because i love walks and the cold especially if Kuni will be there to keep me warm hehe. Him being a silent listener is so so cute and real because you think he doesn't listen but then he brings up something random you said weeks ago and your heart just goes boom. (I propose to you now, you and Wanderer visiting Mondstadt/ Dragonspine and walking along the snowy path there too! Wanderer just has so much overflowing memories of the two of you doing the same thing in Snezhnaya, but you don't remember :( but at least he has a second chance with you to make new memories)

OH MY GOSH THE KURONUSHI STUFF EBWDBEWF bro. i so understand because when i saw him there i was excited beyond words. like FINALLY we were getting some Scara lore after like a year or something?? i also remember being sad that the furniture for the teapot wouldn't change to his picture :( but omg i love your dedication to him sm ITS SO SWEET I CAN'T WAIT TO READ MORE ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS ON KURO BC IM SO INTERESTED.

AGAIN IM REALLY GLAD MY SILLY RAMBLES MADE YOU SMILE!! *HUGS YOU* AND I TOO CANT WAIT TO EXPERIENCE YOUR KABUKI SERIES!! ILY TOO!! ❤️❤️

[i-cant-stop-fandoming-help]

Bored ayame/hatamori drabble (whoa)

Ayame stared at her blood-covered hands, curling her fingers and uncurling them in a pattern. What had she done, what had she done, what had she done.

Kizuna stared back at her with an accusatory glare. You did this. You killed me.

Why had she done this? Why didn't she just get help? Why...

Her mind flickered to Akane. And then it flickered to Tsurugi's crazed face. He'd call Akane a criminal, he'd shun her, he'd...

Why did she even care? She barely knew Akane. She should have done the right thing. She should have helped Kizuna.

But something about the maid felt familiar. Like theyd met before. Like they'd once been friends.

Ayame met Kizuna's stare again and watched as the spark of life slowly left. That expression of anger and anguish... just like Akane, it was also familiar.

"I'm sorry," Ayame whispered as a cobra constricted around her neck, refusing to let her breath, "i'm sorry."

Kizuna tore her gaze away and let out one final wheeze. Something poked at the back of Ayame's memory, something that caused her undeniable agony.

"My mom," it was Kizuna's voice, but so much weaker, "I think she hates me."

Ayame shut her eyes and then it went quiet for a bit.

"I guess that's okay. I mean, it's not like I'm a huge fan of her, either." Kizuna's golden gaze was still full of pain as she said this, but she only winced when Ayame met her eyes.

The sprinter was never great at comfort. Still, when Kizuna brought her knees to her chest, she couldn't help but offer out a hand.

"'Yame." The cheerleader let out a soft whimper as she spoke, "...you don't hate me, right?... You think I can change, right?"

Ayame didn't answer. She didn't know Kizuna well enough to. But, still, she rubbed the other's shoulder with her thumb.

"I don't hate you." Ayame murmured as she blinked teary eyes at the carcass in front of her. "I... i never hated you, Tomori."

It was too little, too late. Whether the memory was real or a figment of her imagination, she should have said it sooner.

She should have been there for Kizuna sooner.

[koishiro]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ꒰͡⠀ . ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ミ★ ☽ ͡꒱

୨ৎ﹒ find information on taglists / requests below

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: ᴏᴘᴇɴ .ᐟ‪‪‬

<- previous page koi-shiro | spotify | kofi

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬?

[request rules]

Join Koi’s taglist to be alerted for upcoming works!

Request to join taglist by commenting under this post with your username and character works you would be interested in! (E.g): koishiro, gojo/geto hcs

𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑫?

Requests will be done on a first-come first-serve basis. Naturally, in order to submit a request, you will require some basic information of the work intended such as au’s, character, prompt, reaction, etc. Being more specific about the work you’re requesting will allow me to write a more cohesive piece in response to said request!

(E.g): I’d like to request Gojo reacting to [prompt]

Naturally, requests will only be done when the request status is OPEN. If you choose to send a request when the status is CLOSED, it will be ignored until requests are re-opened (and then naturally, I’ll get to you soon!) requests are completed in about 1-2 weeks notice depending on how busy I am.

USE ASK BOX TO SEND REQUESTS

𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑫𝑶’𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑻’𝑺

YES!

jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, yuuta, inumaki, itadori, megumi)

jjk women (nobara, maki, miwa, utahime, mai, shoko)

bllk boys (isagi, rin, nagi, sei, reo, chigiri, niko, bachira)

csm men (aki, yoshida, denji, kishibe, angel devil)

csm women (makima, himeno, power)

fruits basket (kyo, hatori, shigure, yuki, hatsuharu, ayame)

tokyo ghoul men (kaneki, hideyoshi, kishou, nishiki, sasaki, yomo)

tokyo ghoul women (touka kirishima)

haikyuu!! (osamu, astumu, hinata)

bnha (bakugo, tamaki, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya, dabi, shigaraki, aizawa)

genshin (diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, itto, kaveh, childe, zhongli, kazuha, thoma, dainsleif)

ateez (san, mingi, yeosang, wooyoung, hongjoong, yunho, jongho, seonghwa)

bts (jungkook, yoongi, jimin, taehyung, namjoon, jin, hoseok)

got7 (jackson wang, jay b, bambam, mark, yugyeom, jinyoung, young-jae)

monsta x (wonho, shownu, I.M, kihyun, hyungwon, minhyuk, joohoney)

fluff, comfort, au’s, prompts, etc. (I don’t write angst)

drabbles, hcs, oneshots, smut

share your thoughts in the ask box! I’m happy to elaborate on them even if not in formatted writing!

I really like learning new things so if I’m not familiar with the anime / game / kpop band, I will research into it but keep in mind it may take more time.

I do try and be as vast as I can with my posts ranging from anime to video games to kpop so I will accept any fandom requests as long as it keeps to my [rules].

I write for any gender and any pronouns! If you want a certain gender or pronoun please add that into your request otherwise I’ll keep to fem readers.

WARNING: my works do and/or will consist of some alcohol consumption, implied sex, detailed smut, substance usage, arguing, aggressive behaviour, suggestive content, making out, etc. my account is 18+, please be aware of this when reading! Works that do include any of the above will have warnings beforehand!

DONT’S!

no descriptive nsfw or anything suggestive for characters that are underaged (e.g: yuuta, nobara, inumaki, maki, itadori, miwa, megumi, mai) I will age these characters up if so

heavy topics like eds, depression, suicide, death, etc.

no oc/name inserts, works are entirely reader inserts.

no major injury, incest (just don’t be weird pls or I will ignore you)

NOTE: I have every right to decline a request if I believe I am not comfortable writing/delivering/posting said content!

[minteayoongimakesmewoozi]

oh no..... had a thought about the au where tanjirou is giyuu and ayame is sabito.........

tanjirou and ayame face the hand oni, but they're both so unprepared for it. tanjirou's rib is broken, his forearm is probably fractured and he's been limping since they managed their escape. it's almost too dark for ayame to see where they're hiding in the cave, but she can feel the terrible tremors of the hand oni as it hunts for them.

the terrified expression on tanjirou's face is what makes her decision for her.

the hand oni said "sweet little fox".

maybe if he sees the fox mask and cloud jinbei and nothing else, then they might have a chance.

or, well, tanjirou might have a chance. urokodaki-san would be sad if he didn't return. urokodaki-san doesn't have anyone anymore.

ayame tears the jinbei off tanjirou's shoulders, replacing it with her kimono while he's still disoriented. she pulls it loose around her, then snatches the mask off his head.

"what - ayame, what - ?"

"stay here," she says quietly, her expression hidden behind the mask urokodaki-san carved for him. "i'll lead the oni away. don't make any noise, then make your way down to the wisteria trees as soon as the coast is clear."

"the mask - "

"tanjirou." her voice is solemn. "whatever happens... tell my shishou i was always grateful for everything."

she disappears from the cave before tanjirou can demand answers.

murata finds tanjirou and helps him through final selection. there is only one casualty for final selection that year.

kamado tanjirou is the water hashira, and he wears a dark blue seigaiha haori, the pattern dyed red. he's the water hashira, so no one wonders why he wears seigaiha. the charcoal half of his haori is hard to explain, but no one will ask.

when sabito is faced with the boulder, a girl in a fox mask appears before him. she holds himself the way a master swordsman does, and her strikes are swift and merciless. she knocks him out in ten seconds and doesn't bother to wait for him to wake up.

he begrudgingly admits that the way she moves is beautiful.

another girl, also with a fox mask, but with the mask resting against the side of his head, is the one who greets him when his eyes open.

"sorry about ayame-san," she says with a rueful chuckle. "she isn't very patient."

ayame-san, sabito learns early on, doesn't speak much if she can help it. she doesn't linger, even if sometimes he feels like he's being watched when he's alone. she continues to use a bokken while he wields a live sword, but it doesn't matter; she is always the one who deals out the first strike. often the last one as well.

"ayame-san doesn't want to show off too much," hikari says as she braids a flower crown. "she's a bit different from the rest of us, that's all. she doesn't stay for urokodaki-san after all."

"then who does she stay for?" asks sabito.

hikari's smile is secretive as she rests the daisy crown in her dark hair. "one of these days, you should ask her, sabito. you might be the only person she answers."

three months later, ayame stands before him with a steel katana at her hip. she draws it slowly - almost reverently. sabito notices that the curve of it is slightly different; it's steeper, the kissaki almost menacing.

"so," she says in a measured voice, "after six months, you can finally face me as a swordsman. hikari-san did well training you."

"you had just as much to do with it, ayame-san," hikari calls out from the side.

sabito snarls. it pulls the scar on his cheek, making him look more dangerous.

"today is the day i win," he declares, unsheathing his own blade.

ayame tilts her head. he wonders if her lips follow the same downward curl of her mask, or if she smirks at him like he always imagined she has.

"then you'd better hit me with everything you have, sabito."

time slows around him. his nose twitches, picking up a strange scent. it's metallic and sharp, like a freshly polished katana. it winds through the air, and he finds his blade following its arc.

for the first time since they met, his blade reaches ayame first.

there is a moment of stillness.

sabito can't believe his katana sliced downward first. her arms are still raised, and she doesn't move as her sleeves fall downwards, exposing the kumihimo cords she has wound around her left wrist.

the fox mask splits in half - sliced vertically in a perfect line. when the wood falls to her shoulders, sabito is shocked to meet shockingly blue eyes.

ayame's lips are parted in surprise. as he watches, her lips curl into a small smile. the slightest twitch of the corners of her lips is both happy and sad.

"sabito..." she murmurs.

sabito can never catch ayame's scent. for the first time, there's a hint of charcoal and something floral lingering in the air, muted by the scent of a summertime rain.

"you did great. remember what you just did, ne?" her voice lowers. "win, okay, sabito? beat that guy too."

sabito glances at hikari in disbelief. she smiles at him encouragingly.

"ayame," he hears himself say, "who do you stay for?"

surprise flits across her features.

"hey," she chuckles sadly, "next time you see tanjirou, be sure to say hi to him. he's so gloomy nowadays."

sabito glances at hikari, but she's disappeared. when he turns back to ayame, she's gone too.

the only thing left in the clearing was the boulder, sliced in half. exactly the same way he had sliced ayame's mask.

[mrfeenysmustache]

A random assortment of drabbles I’m not sure I’ve ever posted before

Sesshomaru/Koga

Word count: 100

Sesshomaru clenched his teeth together as he once more took apart the pieces he’d JUST put together and stared back down at the incomprehensible instructions.

The surrogate would give birth within the month, and no matter how hard this crib was trying to shatter his sanity, it had to be built.

Another failed attempt saw it reduced to a puddle of acidic goo courtesy of his claws.

“Well that’s not what the instructions say,” he heard Koga say from the doorway, and he closed his eyes to fight off the desire for homicide.

His baby needed both fathers, after all.

Kagome/InuKimi

Word count: 100

Kagome delivered the plate, her hands shaking against a maelstrom of nervous butterflies.

The woman sitting in her section was just… SO beautiful.

Long silver hair, bright golden eyes, her professionalism had fled for safety in the face of the most beautiful creature Kagome had ever seen.

“Here’s your meal, ma’am. But be careful of the hot plate, oh and the chef added an extra side for ordering his favorite. And I can get you a refill if you need! And if it’s too bright I can open the umbrella. And-“

The beautiful woman chuckled.

“You ramble and it’s adorable.”

Ayame/Kikyo

Word count: 100

For Kikyo, love came strangely.

And it never looked the way she’d imagined as a little girl.

In those dreams, a man from the village would build her a house, give her children, and live the rest of his life at her side.

And then she’d given her heart to a Hanyo which had led to her demise.

Now he loved someone else.

But so did she.

Her fingers brushed through bright red hair, a fluffy, white furred tail wagging and thumping against the ground as her new love napped on her lap.

Apparently she had a thing for canines.

[loveephia]

nationals (oc drabble).

content: fluff, humor, implied kanoka x sakusa, suna being a wingman.

⚠ warning/s: none.

note: just a little drabble to get a grasp of niiyama's dynamic and sumire's character. :p

"get me out of here." sumire muttered shakily.

"but we just arrived!?" ririka screeched.

from merely a few meters away was inarizaki; the male representatives for hyōgo prefecture, and the second strongest volleyball team. everything about them was intimidating. who wouldn't be scared?

maiko facepalmed, "you're not even going up against them!"

"my life, my emotions!" sumire screamed with tears forming in her eyes, desperately trying to hide from inarizaki's members.

"man, the atmosphere here never gets lighter." jinko sighed. "right..? i can already feel my stomach turning." ayame said, relative to jinko's statement. satomi patted the two heavily on the back, "think of it this way; volleyball is just a more intense version of "don't let the balloon touch the floor"!" she tried to cheer her fellow third years up.

"that doesn't change anything except make volleyball sound stupid." shinju deadpanned.

"oh, c'mon, guys!" satomi cried out.

"nah! it sounded pretty funny, to be honest. it makes me feel a lot better, too." ririka said, "so thanks, tomi!"

kanoka kept writing her fears down on the face of her palm, eating every last one like they're candy. she was soon caught doing so by the other first place ace of japan, sakusa kiyoomi. kanoka's cheeks were pink from embarrassment. she hesitantly bowed her head at him as an unsaid greeting before shuffling away timidly.

"was that amanai from niiyama just now?" komori curiously asked sakusa as he nods. "she's grown a lot these past few months. i want to see how much she's advanced." sakusa stated.

"ooh, sakusa's interested in a girl? say less!" komori teased his dear cousin.

"i'm leaving."

"keiji, kōtarō, where are you..?" sumire struggled to find the two people dearest to her from fukurodani. in the midst of the busy crowd of powerhouses, sumire was weaving through each student with careful eyes.

sadly, not careful enough since she happened to have bumped into someone.

someone from a certain school she was avoiding.

"and it really just had to be one of the miyans, huh?" sumire mentally facepalmed, having recognized the number on his jersey.

atsumu turned around, and before he could even scold the poor girl, sumire was quick to apologize aplenty. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry! i was trying to look for fukurodani, and i wasn't being careful enough."

"please excuse me..!" sumire muttered sheepishly.

"hold on now," atsumu said, putting sumire's walk away to an abrupt halt. "yer from niiyama, right? i remember watchin' yer team play last year. you were all pretty good!" atsumu dropped an unexpected compliment.

what he said about sumire's team wasn't some kind of fabrication to get under her skin or anything. he was being dead serious. niiyama wasn't given the title "queens" for nothing, y'know?

"o- oh! thank you, miya."

"call me atsumu. can't have ya callin' me by my last name when i have a stupid pig fer a twin." atsumu said.

"wanna say that to my face?" osamu entered himself into the conversation, having heard atsumu's insult.

the twins started to bicker, and as sumire was about to slip away, suna's eyes were watching her with a look that said, "don't go yet. osamu wants to tell you something."

sumire shivered, so against her will, she stayed for a little while longer.

"you were looking fer fukurodani, am i right?" osamu asked, and sumire nodded. osamu pointed at a specific direction ahead. "they're over there somewhere, near some red team named nekomo."

"yer memory is rubbish. they're called nekoma!"

"doesn't matter. i was kinda close."

sumire expressed her gratitude toward osamu, who shook it off, saying it was really nothing. sumire then nodded at suna, who, like osamu, shook it off as well.

before sumire ventured off to find fukurodani, she snuck a small glance at kita, who was busy talking to the fifth strongest ace, aran ojiro.

"ah.. he's so handsome in real life." sumire thought with gleaming eyes and a peachy blush on her face.

once sumire was no longer within earshot, the inarizaki second years were left to ponder over the interaction they just had with niiyama's own second year. "do y'think i can get amanai's autograph from her?" atsumu asked. "man, at least befriend yahagi first before pulling a jerky move like that." suna said, going on his phone to scroll through whatever.

"hm.. yer right." atsumu said.

"hey, hey, hey, sumire! it's been a while, my pupil!" bokuto greets the girl with a warm yet albeit bone-crushing hug. "h- hey, kō!" sumire manages to stutter out from the pressure of bokuto's arms around her.

"your pupil?" akaashi said, "i'm pretty sure that i was the one who taught her how to set our entire junior year together."

"just let me have this moment, 'gaashi." bokuto sulked, still squeezing the life out of the poor libero.

when bokuto finally let the girl go, she made a beeline for akaashi and brought him into a calmer embrace compared to the ace. "keiji, i missed you a ton!"

akaashi planted a hand on top of sumire's head. "have the setting techniques i taught you been of good use?" he asked. sumire nodded, a determined smile on her face. "i've gotten really precise, too. you should watch me and my team play."

"will do. only if you reciprocate, of course."

"mhm!"

time skip.

the opening ceremony finished, and the first batch of games had finally set place. teams who frequently go to nationals are called "seeded teams", they don't have to play the first round and immediately advance to the second.

niiyama is a seeded team, so here sumire and kanoka are, walking around the venue to find themselves a vending machine.

"sumire, what kind of drink does shinju want again?" kanoka asked. sumire looked up from her phone and thought for a bit. "green tea, i'm pretty sure."

while kanoka pressed the buttons needed to obtain the green tea bottle, sumire felt a tap on her shoulder. she turned around and saw suna rintarō, the middle blocker who helped her find fukurodani earlier.

"oh, suna! do you need anything?" sumire asked.

"i looked over your shoulder and saw that you wanted a picture with our captain." suna bluntly stated, and sumire burst aflame at that, not knowing whether to feel embarrassed or what. "h- how—"

"he's nearby if you want one. i'll even help you ask." suna said.

"i—" before sumire could reject his offer, she thought back to hachi's words. with a sigh, sumire excuses herself momentarily from kanoka (who understood) and follows suna.

"why are you helping me, by the way?"

"there's no specific reason why. i just wanted to."

finally reaching kita, suna came to a halt. he looked over at sumire to see if she wanted to ask first, but at the flustered state she was in, there was no way a word would exit her mouth. "cap, this is yahagi. she wants a picture with you." sumire freezed on the spot. so straightforward!

"oh, sure." kita accepted.

"phone." suna commanded. sumire held her phone out and gave it to suna. "i take good angles. by the end of this, you might as well have the photo as your background." he reassured sumire with a thumbs up.

sumire stood cautiously next to kita. unfortunately, suna thought that she wasn't close enough since the space between the two felt awkward. "move a little closer to kita, yahagi." suna said.

sumire did as he said, but there was still something bothering suna. the atmosphere felt.. off. so kita did the unexpected and wrapped an arm around sumire's waist, whose face was now glowing a vibrant shade of red.

"say cheese." suna teased, finally taking the picture.

kita's hand was off the girl's waist, leaving sumire to calm down the rapid beat of her heart.

as sumire fanned her own face down with her two hands, she went and snatched her phone out of suna's slender fingers and ran away from the two inarizaki boys.

"you're welcome." suna cackled, though sumire could no longer hear the boy.

suna then glanced at the captain, whose ears were quite red. "what are your thoughts on my friend, captain? isn't she cute?" he asked, trying to get something, anything, out of kita.

"i.. did that out of the blue." kita said, referring to the part where he had an arm around sumire. "i need to apologize when i can." he massaged the bridge of his nose.

"who knew that kita could be so impulsive." suna thought, amused. "i got a good look at her phone number. if you want, you can text her your apology." suna offered.

kita merely looked at the middle blocker with a disappointed expression on his face. suna shrugged, "fine then, suit yourself."

sumire panted from the run, making it back to kanoka, who was still getting drinks. she sighed, going on her phone to go check the picture.

her eyes sparkled.

she sent the photo to the niiyama group chat and simply waited for their responses.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[wisepainterperson]

Chapter 6 of my andromeda six drabble collection.

🖤I Need You💛

TW

blood, mentions of self harm, self harm.

The weight of the world rested heavily upon your shoulders as you mechanically finished yet another mundane task, the weariness etched into the lines of your face. The days seemed to blend together, an unending stream of monotonous routines, numbing your soul to the colors and joys that once filled your existence. But, in the depths of your heart, you clung to a distant glimmer of hope, a faint memory of your mother's tender words before you left that fateful day—words that now seemed like fragile echoes from a distant past.

Time had blurred since then, and life had taken you on a cruel journey, far from the sanctuary of your former happiness. Each step forward seemed to plunge you deeper into a void, a void left by the absence of those you once held dear. The life you once knew was shattered irreparably, leaving you adrift in an ocean of despair, with no beacon to guide you back to shore.

Your mind wandered back to those carefree days, the halcyon moments with your parents and him. The laughter resonated within your soul, the happiness a distant memory that threatened to break your heart. How swiftly it all changed, like a beautiful dream turned to a haunting nightmare. The memory of your father's joke, the last flicker of joy before the darkness descended, haunted you mercilessly.

As you stood lost in your thoughts, a sudden, booming voice jarred you back to reality, ripping you from the bittersweet reverie. You looked around, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, their gazes fixed upon you. And there, towering over you, stood the captain, a stern figure whose authority only seemed to emphasize the void in your heart. The weight of his disapproval added to the crushing burden you carried, as if the world itself was now your antagonist, conspiring against your very existence.

You wanted the tears to fall and to finally be able to release some of these pent-up emotions but alas, nothing. The contrast between your inner turmoil and the world's obliviousness to your pain felt like a cruel irony, isolating you even further. You longed for the comforting embrace of your loved ones, the warmth of their love to heal your wounded spirit, but they were now only memories fading with each passing day. In that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if all days would feel like this—endless cycles of suffering and emptiness.

"Are you deaf?" He began again and you could do nothing but look at him in a daze.

"What?" You ask dumbfoundedly, Captain Lynch did not appreciate this.

"What? I just asked you to move that stuff several times and you just ignored me that's what." He barks back quickly and again you are stunned to silence. His presence alone sent shivers down the spines of those under his command. As he towered over you, his eyes bore into your soul with a mix of irritation and contempt.

You wanted to muster the strength to explain yourself, to tell him that your mind was consumed by thoughts of loss and sorrow, but his hostile tone silenced you. Your silence only served to fuel his anger. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space.

"I don't tolerate insubordination on my ship," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "You're here to work, not daydream." Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words adding to the burden you already carried. His lack of empathy felt like a cold, sharp blade, cutting deeper into your wounded spirit. You yearned for a glimmer of kindness, a spark of humanity from this man who held so much power over your life, but it seemed like a futile hope.

"You know somehow you still surprise me with how far that stick is shoved up your ass Cal." One of your new crew mates had spoken up against him, as she did quite often. Ayame had apparently arrived on this ship with Calderon Lynch, obviously the were rather attuned to each other's ways.

Ayame met the captain's gaze with unwavering defiance, her eyes burning with the fire of someone who had been pushed to their limits. "I'm tired of watching you bully everyone on this ship, including this poor soul," she gestured towards you. "We're all human, with feelings and struggles, and you can't just stomp all over us like we're insignificant bugs."

He took a long deep breath in and released it while holding the bridge of his nose in aggravation, "No one's bullying you or anyone else. We have less than half an hour to hall ass off this gods' forsaken planet or we'll all be reduced to dust, and I don't think now is when we need to be distracted." he begins.

"Couldn't you have just said that." You manage to contort just loud enough that both can hear. Calderon seems less than amused but Ayme takes it and throws it at him again.

"Yeah, you don't have to be so mean about it."  Captain Lynch's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, his jaw visibly tensing. He was not used to admitting fault, let alone to someone who had recently joined the crew.

Ayame's words seemed to have struck a chord with Captain Lynch, and for a moment, you sensed a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes. But that moment quickly passed, replaced by his customary stoic facade. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its authoritative edge.

"You think you know everything, don't you?" Captain Lynch retorted, his voice laced with disdain.

Ayame stood her ground, undeterred by his attempt to belittle her. "Maybe or Maybe not, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people like garbage," she replied with a steady voice. "We're all in this together, and we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down."

Captain rolls his eyes and walks away with a grumble, yet again you've done something to earn his disapproval. You've been on this crew for all of 3 months and you've managed to lose his shoes somewhere between the laundry and his room, burn and boil over his coffee, and break his favorite mug. Needless to say, you weren't friends by any means but that didn't mean that you didn't think about if you were. Actually, you'd thought about him in many ways, many that would more than likely looked down upon if there were to ever come to light, but you talk to no one anyway.

"Don't worry about him." Brought out of your thoughts once again, this time by a much kinder voice.

"Yeah, no, he was right. I shouldn't be so distracted." You say defeatedly, dragging yourself over to the pile of boxes that had tumbled over.

"So, your content to roll over and let him treat you like that?" She joins you in picking up the scattered objects and helps you put them back into the wooden crate.

"No, just don't feel like arguing." you say softly.

"She also likes him and doesn't want to step on his toes, you know, any more than she already has." You hear a familiar tone that you tried to avoid at all costs but here and now there was nowhere to run.

"Somehow you seem more insufferable as the days drag on." you state clearly annoyed at his teasing. You didn't spare him a glance but could hear his army boots hitting the floor as he sauntered ever closer. He comes to sit on the balls of his feet in front of you both, his arm carelessly laying over the side of the box and he eats his cookie.

"Well, I'd say t got better but then, technically, I'd be lying." Sarcasm dripped from every word that spilled from his mouth and for some reason it was always just the right thing to get under your skin. Damon was the constant irritation in the back of your mind, the fly buzzing in your ear, or the thorn from a cactus that you simply can't seem to find. He was fast, smart, and dangerous, your typical girls dream and her father's worst nightmare.

As Damon continued his teasing and sarcastic remarks, you felt your frustration growing. He had a knack for pushing your buttons, and it seemed like he took great pleasure in doing so. Ayame shot Damon a disapproving look before turning her attention back to you.

"Don't listen to him," Ayame said reassuringly, her voice softer and more empathetic than Damon's.

You appreciated Ayame's understanding, but Damon's presence was like a dark cloud that overshadowed any comfort you might find in her words. Despite your annoyance, there was something magnetic about him, and you couldn't deny the strange allure he held over you.

Damon flashed you a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Oh, don't mind me," he said, taking another bite of his cookie. "I'm just here to provide some entertainment."

"I don't need your entertainment," you replied tersely, trying to maintain your composure.

"Come on now, don't be so cold," Damon teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'm just trying to brighten up your day. You look like you could use a good laugh."

His comment hit a nerve, and you felt the tears welling up again. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down." You say standing and brushing yourself off in a crude attempt to wipe away the anger you were feeling.

"If you aren't feeling well maybe you should go see- " You assured her that you just needed to lay down and you'd be feeling much better later. As you walked closer to the loading docks doors you could hear her scold him and make him take your place in cleaning up the spilled boxes. There was very little left to do before take-off and you were sure that the rest of the crew was more than capable of handling it.

You stepped out of the loading docks and into the corridor, the weight of the recent events and the encounter with Damon still weighing heavily on your mind. Each step back to your room felt like a struggle, as if an invisible force tried to hold you back, preventing you from finding solace. The ship's corridors were usually bustling with activity, but now they seemed eerily quiet, amplifying the isolation you felt.

As you walked, the memories of happier times with your family flooded your thoughts again. You yearned to turn back the clock, to undo the irreversible events that led you to this desolate state. But life doesn't offer second chances, and you were left grappling with the unyielding reality that you were alone on this journey.

The darkness in your thoughts intensified, as if the ship itself conspired to push you further into the abyss of despair. Every flickering light seemed to mirror the fleeting hope within you, only to be swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness once more. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you in the silence and solitude.

As you passed by the crew members going about their tasks, their laughter and camaraderie felt distant, almost alien. It was a stark reminder of the chasm between you and everyone else. They had their bonds and relationships, but you were merely a passing shadow in their lives.

You finally reached your room, a small, confined space that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The walls seemed to close in even tighter as you entered, and you collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you, threatening to crush whatever hope was left in your heart.

In the solitude of your room, your mind revisited the memories that brought you pain. Each thought was a knife, piercing your heart, and you couldn't escape the relentless assault of grief and loss. The past was an unyielding captor, unwilling to release you from its grip.

As time passed, the ship's engines hummed with a low, rhythmic sound, a constant reminder of the journey forward. But as much as the ship moved physically, you felt emotionally stagnant, trapped in a cycle of despair that seemed never-ending.

The darkness outside the small window mirrored the darkness within you. Your heart longed for healing, for light to break through the gloom and show you a path forward. But in the grip of your grief, it was hard to see beyond the overwhelming emotions that engulfed you.

You know how to fix this. The voice in your head began, it liked to haunt you, to taunt you in these times. "No." You groaned out rolling over onto your side to stare blankly at the drawing from bash that were scattered among the walls.

Why not? No one will know and if it makes it go away then no harm. No harm what a laugh. Unhealthy habits die hard, that's what you'd learned to tell yourself. You'd tried the ice and salt, you'd tried drawing on your arms with markers, even snapping yourself with a rubber band but nothing really helped. Not like that use to.

Exactly, so why not one last time? Your thoughts were louder now, more confident, snider. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, plopping down into chair in front of yourself and opening the drawer to your left. That was the desk you kept your art supplies, your drawing pad, and the knife Damon had given you. "For protection," He'd said.

The sound of the lights buzzing overheard spilled over into your thoughts as you pondered the decision you were about to make, the fall from grace you were about to have. You grabbed the knife and laid it flat on the table, running your thumb over the smooth metal. You had cut your wrists before but this would be different. Different because it'd been 3 long years of sobriety you'd be looking in the face and ignoring.

The thought of all the pain you were about to put yourself through was almost enough to stop you. Your hands trembled as you held the knife, ready to make your last cut. Your breath hitched and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you.

That's it, do it. Let yourself have that relief, give yourself one last break. The voice taunted you, "It's not a break, I'll be in control." You replied out loud, your grip tightening on the handle. You began to rub it up and down the inside of your left wrist, creating a light, teasing cut. Your hands began to shake again, and your stomach churned as the blade danced across your flesh.

You were going to hurt, but you would survive. The pain was temporary, the freedom from the torment was worth every second of agony. You closed your eyes, trying to block out all thoughts and just feel. One became two, two became five, and soon your arm looked like a cutting board, but it isn't hurt and neither did your heart any longer.

A knock on your door draws you from world you'd created in your mind, suddenly reality hits you like an ocean wave. "Uh- One second!" You managed to get out in a shaky voice, suddenly feeling guilty and embarrassed about what you'd been doing. You weren't ashamed of cutting or why you did it but you were still worried about what others might think of you.

You grabbed some tissues and did your best to clean your arm, though it was already starting to bruise and looked quite bloody. You put the knife away and turned your attention to your door again. You weren't in the mood for company, but it was probably Ayame again. Hastily you wrap tissue around your arm and throw on your jacket before walking over to your door and hitting the panel to open.

If it had been Aya you would have been prepared even a little aggravated but when your eyes met the deep blues of Captain Lynch's you froze like a deer in head lights and instinctively hide your arm behind your back.

"Can I come in?" He ask in an exasperated huff of air. You're not sure why he's here, but you certainly weren't going to turn down a chance to talk to him.

"Sure," You reply as you move out of the doorway to allow him in, "what can I do for you?" You ask again, this time a little more awkwardly.

He walks in examining your room as if he were the judge of some show. "Its been brought to my attention that I've been unnecessarily cruel to you and I'm here to apologize." He says finally turning to address you.

"Ayame really laid into you didn't she." You say jokingly crossing the room and sitting in the desk chair you'd just been in, you notice the drawer still slightly ajar and shut it quickly before responding. He gives you a look as if to say,  yes you are correct while running his fingers over the leaves of the plant Ryona had given you to keep you company.

"Well, no harm no foul right." You say nonchalantly hoping he'd take that as his cue to scurry off back to his big chair that sits smack dab in the middle of the control room. "It's also been brought to my attention that you've been isolating yourself in your room more often then usual," he says, again eyeing your room with an inquisitive gaze. "And I feel like I may have added to that," he continues and sits down in the small chair in front of your desk. "I think I need to tell you something."

You aren't sure what to say or do at this point, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, you can feel the butterflies in your stomach, but you can't help but feel like this is going to end badly. You want to speak up, but you can't seem to find the words to say, you can't seem to break out of the silence you've become trapped in.

Thankfully you were both interrupted by Ayame calling Captain Lynch to the front and for the first time in what seemed like forever you took a breath. "Seems like that need you on the bridge." You say under your breath trying to avoid eye contact.

"Indeed," he says getting up from the chair and looking out the window. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so harsh with you. I didn't know you'd lost your family or that your father was such an asshole." You cleared your throat uncomfortably and turned away without another word. Seeing as the conversation had struck its natural conclusion he took his leave.

The trip was going to be a long one, but you weren't ready to open up and be vulnerable. You knew you needed to but you didn't want to, it was a lot easier to just keep everything to yourself. But eventually the dam would break, and when it did it would be catastrophic.

As you made your way back to the small window in your room, you could hear the ship's engines begin to turn on and rumble to life and it wasn't too long after that they everyone was called to the bridge to be strapped in. On the bridge, Ayame and Captain Lynch were busy preparing for the ship's departure. Ayame was preparing the system for flight while the captain sat in his big chair, observing everything with a watchful eye. As you entered, they both acknowledged you, but you kept your distance, not wanting to engage in any conversation at the moment.

"Well if it isn't the recluse." You could hear Damon say as he waltzes up behind you. You turn to face Damon, His sly grin only added to your already troubled mood. "The walls of your room must miss you," he adds with a chuckle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to brush off his teasing. "Yeah, well, I prefer my own company," you retort, trying to keep the conversation short.

Damon raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your response. "Sure, sure, the great mystery of the galaxy brooding in their room," he replies, feigning drama. "But seriously, are you ever going to join us normal people on the bridge? You know, to witness the beauty of space or something."

You clench your jaw, feeling more agitated by his taunts. "I'll be there when I feel like it," you mutter, attempting to move past him and head to the bridge.

However, Damon steps in front of you, blocking your path. "Now, now, don't get all huffy," he smirks, placing a hand on his chest in mock innocence. "We just miss having you around, that's all. It's been so happy without your emo vibes."

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the anger boiling within you. "Happy without my 'emo vibes'? You've got a real talent for being a jerk, Damon," you snap, unable to hide your irritation anymore.

Damon's grin falters for a moment, seemingly surprised by your reaction, but it quickly returns as he brushes it off. "Whoa there, calm down," he says, trying to act nonchalant. "Just trying to lighten the mood, you know."

"Yeah, well, maybe pick a different approach next time," you retort, taking a step back, ready to leave. The last thing you want is to spend any more time dealing with Damon's antics.

But just as you turn to walk away, Damon reaches out and grabs your wrist firmly causing you to yank it back with a yelp of pain. The room froze and everyone seemed to stop and look towards you and Damon. You'd instinctively grabbed your wrist and begun to hold it to your chest as your eyes glanced over the many other pairs of eyes that now watched you both.

"You're bleeding." the captain says, rising from his chair but you take another step back towards the door. Your world seemed to be collapsing around you with every second that passed. The room fell silent as everyone watched the tense interaction between you and Damon. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and anger mixed with fear was bubbling inside you. The pain in your wrist seemed to intensify as you held it against your chest, trying to hide it from everyone's view.

Captain Lynch took a step forward, his expression now serious and concerned. "Are you alright? Let me see your wrist," he said gently, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm fine," you replied, trying to muster up a brave front, but your voice quivered slightly.

Damon's earlier smirk was replaced with a look of genuine concern, and maybe even anger, "He wasn't asking." at this moment you were more afraid of the look Damon was giving you then the man twice his size that was still reaching out to your arm.

"I said no!" was all you said before turning around sprinting out the door and down the metal corridors.

As you ran through the corridors, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of emotions. Fear, anger, and confusion all tangled together, making it hard to think clearly. You had to get away from Damon and everyone else, finding solace and safety in the only place you knew—the familiarity of your own room.

You sprinted through the ship, your mind solely focused on reaching the sanctuary of your quarters. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. You didn't want to be seen like this, weak and vulnerable. As you approached your room, you fumbled with the panel to open the door, your hands trembling from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

Once inside you let them come to a close and lock the doors behind you, sliding down against it until you were sitting on the floor. Your breaths were ragged, and you finally allowed the tears to flow freely down your cheeks. The pain in your wrist, both physical and emotional, felt overwhelming.

You didn't understand why Damon's actions had affected you so deeply. Yes, he was rude and insensitive, but there was something about his grab that triggered a painful memory, reminding you of your past and the loss you had endured. Your father's abusive behavior flashed before your eyes, and the wounds that had never fully healed were ripped open once more.

Feeling the weight of your emotions becoming too much to bear, you reached for the small plant that Ryona had given you. Holding it close to your chest, you tried to find some comfort in its presence, as if its mere existence could help soothe the turmoil inside you.

As time passed, the commotion outside your room died down, and the ship's engines hummed steadily. You could still hear faint voices, but you did your best to block them out. You didn't want to confront anyone right now, especially not Damon or Captain Lynch.

It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on your door. You didn't respond, hoping that whoever it was would assume you were busy or resting. After a while they went away and you were left in silence again, watching the stars pass by had helped some but the constant wrenching of your heart seemed to only grow as the moments passed. It was late enough that no one would be awake and there was always one place you liked to go.

You dragged yourself from your bed and changed the bandages on your arms before leaving your room as quietly as possible. The halls were dark, and most were already snug in their beds and attempting to sleep over the noise of the engine. Finally, you made it to the lower levels of the ship, just before you reach the dock, there was a large window that seemed to jut out of the side of the ship. When sitting there you almost feel as if you're floating through space in your own bubble.

You sat by the large window, your knees pulled up to your chest, and your arms wrapped around them. The stars outside flickered, painting the vast canvas of space with their distant light. The gentle hum of the ship's engines provided a comforting background noise, lulling you into a sense of peace despite the turmoil within.

You stared out into the endless void, lost in thought. The events of the day, the confrontation with Damon, and the unexpected interaction with Captain Lynch weighed heavily on your mind. You couldn't help but replay the memories of your past, the painful moments you had tried so hard to bury.

Deep down, you knew that running away from your emotions wouldn't solve anything. You needed to confront the pain, the anger, and the fear that you had been carrying for so long. But it was easier said than done. Opening up, being vulnerable, and facing the past was terrifying, and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.

As you sat there, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't turn around; you didn't need to know who it was. Part of you hoped it was Ayame, understanding and compassionate, but another part feared it might be Damon or even Captain Lynch, wanting to address what had happened earlier.

The footsteps halted behind you, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, a voice broke through, hesitant and awkward. "I'm sorry," Captain Lynch said softly. This made you turn and glance at him from over your shoulder, he wasn't clad in his usual uniform, instead he wore a simple t-shirt and joggers. Like this he seemed far less intimidating than before.

"Why are you apologizing?" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before responding. "It's not your fault," you said, your voice catching slightly.

Captain Lynch hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for the right words to say. "I should have handled the situation with Damon better. I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point where you felt the need to run away," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of regret.

You turned your gaze back to the stars, finding some comfort in the distant lights that seemed to listen without judgment. "It's not your responsibility to babysit me or control how others behave," you replied, trying to sound strong, but your voice wavered.

He sat down beside you, his eyes also fixed on the cosmic expanse. Seeing him like this next to you made him seem comedically bigger than everything around him and it made you smile.  "Maybe not, but I care about the crew, and I care about you," he said quietly.

What? He what? "Captain listen-" You began but he stopped you short.

"Calderon." He corrected his eyes still firmly fixed ahead of him.

"Calderon." You repeated. "I really appreciate it, and I hope we can put this behind us but I think we both know that it won't happen." You confess trying not to sound bitter about it. "So you can just drop me off the next planet you get to and I'll figure the rest out. "

You sigh turning away from him and back towards the window. You could feel a lump forming in your throat and you felt the tears threatening to spill over once more. You wouldn't be able to hide your feelings much longer and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you break.

"I don't want to drop you off," Calderon says softly. "I want you to stay. I want to help you."

"Why? Why would you want to help me?" You ask with a shaky voice. "I'm not worth it."

Calderon reached out and gently brushed his fingers across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You couldn't help but blush at the unexpected contact and looked up into his soft blue eyes. "You're worth it. And I want to help you because I like you." Calderon says softly.

You weren't sure what to say, how do you respond to that, "You can't just say stuff like that." Was all you could muster.

"Ok well, A. I'm the captain and last i checked I can say what I want. " He says wearing a smug smile, you could see he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes and you were sure he could notice the steady blush talking over your cheeks.

"And B?" You question, feeling a bit emboldened.

"Well, I guess you'll have to find that out," he said with a sly grin. You could feel your face burning as you tried to look away from him, and he chuckled softly before standing up and holding out his hand to help you up.

"I'll let you get back to your brooding, but I'd like you to talk Ryona about your arm." he said but once you were standing again you simply shook your head.

"I'm ok." you say, holding your arm close to your body again. He gave you a knowing look but nodded and left you to your thoughts.

***

When you began to make it back to your room, you tried your best to compose yourself, using your jacket sleeves to muffle your sniffles. You couldn't believe what had happened, but you couldn't help the feelings it stirred within you. He liked you? You couldn't help but replay those words in your head. It was one thing for him to say it happenstancely, but he'd really said it.

It took all your willpower not to run down the hall screaming that he likes you, you like him, it was a perfect   moment. And yet, it made you feel even more conflicted. The conflict was part of the reason you'd been avoiding everyone. The thought of everyone knowing about the pain you carried, the memories that haunted you, terrified you. You weren't ready to face it, to confront it, not yet.

You knew you needed to speak with Ryona about your arm, you could see the bruises forming and the blood from the cuts seeping through. You walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, maybe tomorrow.

As the door slid open, your breath caught in your throat and your face burned with embarrassment. Your bed was a mess and clothes were strewn all over the floor. Damon had been through your things, going through your private things. You were about to let out a yell of anger and frustration when you saw Damon standing beside your desk, holding up the knife you'd used to hurt yourself before.

"I told you to be careful with it, " he was definitely not his normal cocky and charming self. No he was angry, more angry then you'd ever seen him.

You took a step towards him, clenching your fists. "Why were you going through my things? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You felt the heat rise to your face again as your frustration boiled over. You had a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of emotions you wanted to release, but none of them seemed to make it past your lips.

Damon turned around to face you, his own hands clenched into tight fists. "Why were you cutting yourself with this?" He asked, his tone even more angry. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I wouldn't care?"

"I thought you'd be happy about it," you fired back, "you're always picking on me, teasing me, so you'd think this would be your opportunity to have a good laugh at my expense."

"So, what, you think I'm an asshole then? I thought you were better than that," he said, stepping closer to you. "You think I want to watch you hurt yourself?"

"Well, that's what you seem to do isn't it? Tease me, make me angry, get me so worked up I have to hurt myself to calm down!" You could hear the anger in your voice, but it was nothing compared to the anger you could feel coming off of Damon.

"Don't fucking turn this on me," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You can't use me as an excuse.

"I am not blaming you for this, dammit," you snap, "and yes, I am blaming you! You're the one who brought it up, you're the one who started this whole thing by teasing me."

"I didn't mean for you to take it this far," he says, "I didn't realize..."

You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him in his moment of weakness, why? Why did you want to comfort those who hurt you, you'd never know.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it this far. But I couldn't help it, I just...I needed to let it go, you're so fucking infuriating sometimes. So, you're right, it's not your fault. I just couldn't stop myself." You said, trying to force the words out.

He looked at you for a moment, and you could see his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch your cheek, but pulling his hand back in the next instant.

"You're not the only one," you said softly. "I'm sorry too. I should have talked to you, but I wasn't ready."

"No, I should have stopped this from happening," he said, his voice breaking.

"I know, but it just got out of hand." You sighed, rubbing your face. "I need to get to bed." You said, moving towards the door. "Good night, Damon." But before you had a chance his hand grabbed yours and in an instant the world became still.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears and every nerve in your body felt electrified. You could feel the air around you change. You could smell the warm sugary like scent that hung in the air, feel the warmth of his skin on yours.

He became close, so close you could feel his breath against your neck and the gentle brush of his lips. His hand gripped yours and you felt a surge of power run through your veins.

"You know I don't like it." He says quietly, almost so softly you couldn't hear it. "When you cut yourself." His cologne was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his shampoo from his normal evening shower.

You swallowed hard and nodded, "I know." You said softly.

"I-." He seems to struggle to voice his feelings, his voice a whisper that barely reaches your ears. "I want you." His hands had left yours and begun to grip the fabric of your shirt on either side of you. "I want to stay. " Like this he almost seemed like a pouting child.

You felt the softness of his lips as they touched the back of your ear, his hands running over your sides. If you weren't red before you certainly were now. This might was confusing, Damon and his feelings are confusing, but you'd be lying if you said you'd hadn't thought about him saying those words to you before.

"O-ok." Was all you could manage. For the first time ever you hugged him and he hugged you back. Never had his walls tumble down so far but tonight something had shook him to his core, the thought that he might lose you and it would be his fault.

"I'll sleep here with you," he said softly. "I won't let you do that again." He said, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your lips. "Please, don't hurt yourself anymore." He said, his eyes begging you to understand.

Your heart was pounding, and your cheeks were flushed. "Ok." You whispered.