#like the moon bouncing off the light from the sun

[momhowell]

realizing i'm not a dannie i'm a dan-with-phil-ie

[lizpottersworld]

౨ৎ lacy, oh lacy. (james potter x reader)

summary: not everyone gets their happy ending, and in this instance the beautiful, caring redhead falls behind the trail of her angelic best friend. i feel so so sorry for lily in this. i’m sorry to anybody who may relate<3.

pairings: james potter!bf x reader. lily evans!platonic x reader.

request here

For the first few years of attending Hogwarts it had always been james pining over lily whilst she rolled her eyes and ignored his romantic gestures. But now it was him hopelessly trailing behind y/n y/l/n like a love sick puppy. The two girls were similar in a way. They both were gryffindor and shared the same fieriness about them, they both loved and cared deeply and took a liking to school work. But they were also different.

Lily Evans was bubbly, outgoing, and always managed to befriend everyone no matter what house or belief. She loved everything nature and her beauty was undeniably entrancing to every boy or girl in Hogwarts. Her face was soothing and always had a bright smile on, showing off her freckles and light pink blush on her cheeks. Colourful floral patterns and summer dresses were what she was known for wearing. That was what made Lily herself.

Oh but, Y/n Y/l/n. She was everything Lily was and wasn’t. Her hair always flowed perfectly and bounced as she skipped down the paths of flower gardens, oh and how her eyes glowed and shimmered in the sun and the moon’s reflection. The sound of her laughter echoed through every corner of the place she was sat, blessing the ears of the ones around her. Ribbons adorned her gorgeous hair, always changing colour depending on the outfit she wore. Which always contributed to the same colour palette, pink, white and yellow. Her perfume, the one people loved so dearly, smelled like vanilla, white chocolate and salted caramel. It always lingered behind her trail everywhere she stepped.

James had always acknowledged y/n but after the many attempts of wooing Lily he confided in the person closet to her. It didn’t take long for him to fall for the girl. Lily knew she was forgotten the second her best friend fluttered her eyelashes his way, or laughed angelically at his jokes. At first she was thankful that the attention had moved on from her, but slowly over time she realised how much she longed for the boys antics again.

She waited too long. Now Lily had to watch the hopeless whispers of her best friend and crush — no, friend, as they told each other sweet nothings on their walk back to the dorms. How their hands connected the moment they were in reach, the beautiful bouquet or flowers that james out picked for her that made her gush about them for weeks, the giggles her best friend let out when james would make a stupid joke and especially the smiles that beamed on their faces after walking out of broom closets around school.

Lily found herself making up excuses to not hang out with y/n anymore, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for it. She despised how her mind always lingered on the thought of her heartbroken best friend. She wasn’t supposed to wish that upon anyone, definitely not her best friend of all people. The obvious frown always settled onto y/n’s face as she forced a smile Lily’s way at her awkwardness towards her, she never knew what was wrong — Merlin, she didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. Y/n who was always smiling and living in the moment was dulling at her best friends sadness, anybody could notice how her eyes searched for Lily after a thought came to her mind. Just like how anybody could see how her shoulders fell and her eyes teared up when she couldn’t find Lily.

Call it desperation but Lily needed to tell James how she felt. Her body ached for the approval of the boy even if it mean’t hurting her best friend. But once again, that thought haunted her for hours on end. Jealousy pulled at her mind achingly, cutting out any other feelings she was trying to feel.

Lily should have known that James wouldn’t precipitate the feelings back to her. He had made it awfully clear how much he loved y/n. After begging for days James promised his girlfriend wouldn’t find out about this encounter, as much as she loved the boy, Lily still had the same measurable love for y/n. Every day after then the girl found herself comparing everything about herself to her best friend. From her delicate skin to the clothes she wore. She tried and tried.

Even the compliments like, “Lils, your so beautiful.” and “Im so jealous of you.” couldn’t stop the girl from still feeling envious. If anything y/n’s compliments felt like bullets on skin. She desperately tried to seek the same treatment that y/n got. And even when Lily was copying the little things she would do her blinded best friend would sit beside her and encourage her along the way. And thats what made it worse, her loving best friend was there the whole way whilst Lily begged and sobbed for her to be the one with James instead of her. Oh how she despised how much her mind worshipped y/n.

[lunarmoves]

one of the things you’ll never get over is just how teasing the daycare attendant can be. 

whether it may be through pokes at how tiny you are in comparison to them, little flirts that set your face aflame yet are completely innocuous, or putting you in situations where you’re forced to rely on them, the daycare attendant seems to find delight in your many different reactions and emotions. you’re not quite sure why. but it has grown just the teensiest bit frustrating. you’ve done your best to try to retaliate and turn the tables on them, but none of your efforts seem to work on them like they do on you. they are, at times, very difficult to read—what with the static smile and all. not like a robot can blush, either. 

it’s gotten to the point where you’re willing to try anything—and after watching some parents greeting their kids at the door for pickup, you finally get an idea that you think might just work in your favor. so long as you pay extra close attention to their reactions. 

it’s finally after hours for the daycare; the last child had been picked up a few minutes ago. you and sun are wandering about, gathering up stray toys and crayons. you notice one of the small coloring tables has an unfortunate glob of glitter glue pasted to it and call out to sun to grab his attention. your eyes watch him like a hawk’s. 

“can you grab me a rag and some cleaning spray, baby?” it’s said as casually as you can make it. 

you have to bite your lip to suppress a smile when sun freezes in place for a moment, then spins his head around properly to look right at you. “i beg your pardon? what did you say?” 

you pinch at the side of your thigh to stop a smile from breaking out on your face and busy yourself with picking up more crayons. you know he heard you perfectly. robot hearing, and all. “i said can you grab me a rag and some cleaning spray. baby?” 

wide, white eyes stare at you for what feels like an eternity, then his rays do a delighted little spin. he straightens up and gives you a salute. “can do, friend! i'll be back in a jiffy!” 

you snicker to yourself at the enthusiasm in his voice. “thank you my love.” 

sun makes a sound—a strange sound you’ve not yet heard before—that you honestly can’t identify. a whirr of sorts, maybe. then he bounces off to the supply closet tucked in the corner of the daycare, where all the cleaning materials are stored. you pretend to bend down to grab another crayon, your eyes flicking up to follow sun's movement. once he disappears around a playset, you take a short, quiet moment to stuff your fist in your mouth and bite down a giggle. you manage to collect yourself right as he returns, your hands dumping the crayons you've collected into their designated bin.

"you're in a mood today!" sun says brightly as he hands you the spray bottle of cleaner and an old, blue rag. he sways animatedly from side to side and clasps his hands together in front of his chassis once his hands are free.

"i don't know what you're talking about," you reply as straight-faced as you can and crouch down next to the table, "honey," you add after a short second. you give the glob a few sprays of the cleaning solution, then start to diligently work away at it with the cloth. at least you have an excuse to turn your face away from his perceptive gaze.

sun's shadow looms over you. there's a clicking sound as his faceplate rotates. "i think you do, friend!"

"what," you snort and peer up at him from the corner of your eye, "you want me to stop?"

sun's head tilts farther to the side and his smile seems to get larger. "on the contrary, actually!"

you can't deny that his words make you flush slightly, so you turn back to the table to swipe your rag against it a final time. can't let him turn the tide on you like this. you're saved from responding to him when the daycare lights suddenly go out to signify closing, hoping against all hope that moon hadn't been paying attention.

those hopes get quickly dashed when you notice the table you'd finished cleaning has taken on a red glow, and long fingers abruptly grip onto your shoulders to tug you up and spin you around.

"what," moon hisses lowly at you, face close to your own as he stares directly at you with wide maroon eyes, "are you doing?"

"me?" you answer innocently, your hands holding the cloth up between the both of your chests as though in a feeble attempt at a defensive wall. the rest of the daycare is dark and it's only by moon's eyes and the dim light from the windows leading to the rest of the pizzaplex that you're able to see him. "i'm not doing anything, sweetheart."

"that," he emphasizes and gives you a little shake, "is not nothing. you're up to something."

"i promise i'm not buttercup," is your smooth reply. moon twitches slightly—his grip gets a teeny bit tighter. and there's something in the way he's holding himself that lets you know he's more affected by your words than he lets on. the corners of your mouth curl up slightly, but you force them back down to maintain your innocuous look.

moon only growls at you, voice rasping out a "troublemaker."

you stick your tongue out at him. "cutie pie."

"nuisance."

"darling."

"brat."

"snookums." your smile starts to creep back up your face when you notice he's slowly drawing closer in the heat of the little back and forth.

"little gremlin." his expression dares you to retaliate.

you choose not to respond right away, letting his last pet name hang in the air for a quiet, tense moment. your eyes stare directly into his own fuzzy ones and you take in a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you're about to say.

"kitten." you grin wildly when moon absolutely recoils and releases you from his grip. immediately, you latch onto the sound of his servos whirring in his chassis—a cooling system kicking into place. and that, you realize, is their form of blushing.

"oh?" your eyes squint upwards in delight as moon just looks at you with wide eyes, his hat low on his face so much so that you only see the lower halves of his optics. "embarrassed? my little kitten?"

"shut up!" moon hisses at you and it makes you finally break down into laughter at the irony. his hands twitch sporadically before he stills them. "pain in the neck! annoyance!"

"kitten! kitten kitten kit— WAJHSDKFJDF!" you shriek as you narrowly dodge a swipe from moon and immediately make a break for the door. he growls something rough at you in lighthearted jest, but you can't hear him over the sounds of your loud laughter and your pounding footsteps against the floor.

and as moon chases you out of the daycare—your little victory triumphantly stashed under your belt— the knowledge that they have a certain weakness for adoring pet names gets stored in a mischievous part of your brain for later.

[idlesana]

dear sana, i know about your affairs

minatozaki sana x fem reader ; angst, open ending, ft. miyeon

summary: your dear sana, dear sana who is caught up in “work” which just so happens to be seeing another woman

cw: cheating, cursing, sexual mentions, not proofread

dear sana, stay safe and healthy throughout work today!

sana smiles, folding the paper and pocketing it, leaving far before the sun could rise.

she wonders for a moment, wonders at what time do you set out these notes so she doesn’t see them until she leaves. the thought quickly wipes her smile, she doesn’t like thinking of you up, not able to sleep, still devoting your time to her— only her. sana frowns.

she shuts the only light on, in the kitchen, making the room glow eerily by only the moon and cityscape lights beaming in through the large window, spread through your living room.

the high rise apartment you and sana got together, or, sana got, insisting you move in with her. her smile reappears at the memories, she feels warm, for some reason. she contemplates shutting the kitchen light off and slipping back into her pajamas, spending the day with you.

ding!

mi : are you on your way, baby?

sana frowns, again. she let’s out a small huff, or groan, or a mix, but nevertheless, leaves the apartment, letting the door shut behind her, making sure to guide the handle to suppress the sound as much as possible.

even if she was cheating, she still cared for your rest, still cared for you.

—

“don’t you think her hours are a bit…?” nayeon trails, leaving the the word she wants to say in thin air, knowing the suspicion she had was valid, but also knowing the declaration of said suspicion could be problematic.

“i mean, she’s a ceo, is she not?”

to be fair, you’ve had the same suspicions, from the exact moment sana started to come home smelling of lilacs and roses instead of her strawberry and peony mixture.

“sure, but, it’s just…” nayeon looks around, chewing on her straw as she lets synonyms bounce around in her head, ultimately settling on, “strange.”

“i- well,” it’s stuttered, your fingers tapping on the table anxiously, now gnawing on your bottom lip, trying to find courage to voice your worries. you don’t want to give in and say that you’ve been thinking this for a while now, because your sana would never, but, this sana may not be yours anymore. you furrow your brows tightly.

you cared about sana, loved her, loved her more than anyone or anything, and you’d never want to doubt her, but, she made it hard. not hard to love her, of course, but hard to hold out hope.

she’s always leaving at the wee hours of morning, leaving you alone until the late, late hours of night.

“you’re right, i’ve been, kinda on edge.” you try and shrug it off, but the bouncing of your leg under the table is a dead giveaway to nayeon, who can feel the shaking of the table.

she runs a hand across the table, cupping it over one of your own, “i’m sure it’s fine, y/n. let’s not worry.”

she smiles, warm and genuine, betraying the blatant lie she tells.

she wasn’t sure it was fine, not one bit.

—

dear sana, i miss you, lots. i feel like we don’t see much of each other these days.

sana surprisingly isn’t leaving when she finds the note, but maybe worse, coming home.

it’s 4 AM and she knows she’s practically caught at this point, all disheveled and sweaty, but she can’t help but sit and stare at the note. she tries to pat down her hair, but there’s not much use, maybe the sloppily tie or crooked buttoning of her shirt was more so the giveaway.

the note still has her frozen, chest tightening with each heave. she wasn’t so sure how much longer she could keep this up— and to make matters worse, she didn’t know if keeping up meant staying with miyeon, or staying with you.

“sana?”

she snaps her head up, lips parted, eyes widened.

you stand, baggy tee, hers, baggy sweats, hers, cute kitty socks, gift from her to you. her heart twists.

you move to rub an eye, sleep still weighing in your movements, her heart stings.

“y/n.” she sticks the note back to the counter, shuffling around the island, taking steady, hesitant steps toward you.

she feels a familiar pressure build in her throat, a burn of tears forming at the back of her eyes.

“oh, y/n.” she stumbles at you, throwing arms around your waist, pulling you into her, feeling your nose tickle her neck just how she likes. the tears almost slip, she’s happy, but also, so, so sad.

you breathe in and out through your mouth, puffing warm air into her, doing so as to not smell the other woman on her. just to have her as yours, even just for the night.

she’s holding you tight, her body shuddering slightly against yours, and you hold her as tight as you can.

“god, y/n, i love you.” you hear the warble in her voice, the shaky inhales and exhales.

“i know. i love you.” you mutter back, pressing a soft kiss to where her neck and jawline meet.

“y/n, i’m s-so sorry.” you can tell she’s crying now, shaking a little harder in your arms. you feel your heart crack, her words confirming your worst fear.

“i know.”

—

you’re occupying space in nayeon and chaeyoung’s apartment, letting them pamper you as sana, is at your shared apartment.

you aren’t sure why, why she took work off, why she isn’t with her mystery woman. but you try to not let it bother you, though, that’s not working too well.

“i don’t really know what to do.” you look down at your lap, fingers toying at the promise ring sana got you.

“i mean, isn’t it obvious? you should-“ chaeyoung smacks a hand over nayeon’s mouth, silencing whatever dumb, unthoughtful remark she had in the makes. nayeon side eyes her, but doesn’t move away, knowing she was deserving of it.

“maybe talk to her, y/n.”

chaeyoung looks unsure, but you’re grateful to her being the wiser between the two girls, despite her being younger. she tries to show remorse in her eyes, and you smile, it’s sad, but you try, for her.

“okay.”

—

you shut the door behind you, for once, it’s you sneaking in late. instead of being sweaty and hot, you’re freezing cold, eyes red and puffy.

you’d taken a lap around your block as soon as you made it home, not sure how to face the inevitable— sana.

one turned to two once you couldn’t stop crying, and now your body is chilled to the touch, all except your face, still flushed from the tears.

you cross to the kitchen, ignorant to the hum of the tv, focused on the way your keys clang on the table. you start to space, and you’re sure it’s from exhaustion, blinking slowing as you stare at the keys, mind somewhere else, for a moment.

maybe you’re trying to settle your mental battle of ‘sana or no sana’, because at this point, it’s not much you fighting for what you want, but you fighting for ways or reasons to keep her— because losing seems beyond inevitable.

“hey.” you blink, once, twice, and definitely quicker than you were before because that isn’t your voice and definitely not in your head.

but you know the voice, you know it too well.

“hi, sana.” you murmur, voice almost getting caught in the atmosphere of the room, but sana hears you, she always does.

she clenched her jaw, nervous before you for the first time since you’d started dating, she’s positioned at your side, but god does she want to be closer.

she opts to lean on the table, hands grasping the edge of it as a way to take out her stress.

“you got home late.” it’s weak, and to you, you can tell sana’s been crying all day, her voice is hoarse and not in the way it is in the mornings, now it just sounds painful to talk.

you look up to her, tears welling in your own eyes again.

because sana, sana always looks so gorgeous, even with red eyes and nose, even when she’s hurting. you want to be mad, you want to ask why she’s crying when she’s the one who cheated, but you know sana would never be so evil.

you gnaw at the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest to keep the tears at your waterline from slipping down your skin.

“yeah, sorry, i was with nayeon.” you push away from the table, crossing your arms before you as you just stare at her. sana’s eyes flicker to something else, and she furrows her brow.

“nayeon? why were you alone with her?” sana’s gripping the table firmer now, jaw visibly clenched and you scoff.

“sana, am i really the person between us who should be getting berated right now? for being out with my friend? at least i’m not fucking someone else right behind my girlfriends back.” it’s a lot, and you’re not sure you said everything right, but it’s fine, you’re emotional, you’re bound to stutter on words. bound to mess up.

you want to move away from sana but her pull is too strong, and that’s when you feel the heat return to your cheek, wet hot slipping down and pooling at your chin.

sana looks as distressed, anger replaced with an unreadable sadness in her eyes. she can’t speak, but her chest is rising and falling quicker with each breath.

you roll your eyes, moving to push through to your room.

“i’m going to bed, sana.” and with that, you cross pass sana, avoiding touching her by any means, to no avail, because she’s grabbing your arm and tugging you into her.

“please don’t leave me.” sana whimpers against you, you still in her arms, feeling her body shake vehemently. your back is to her front, her face nuzzled into your hair as she cries, and suddenly your anger is replaced with worry.

because who were you fooling, you’d never not be loving sana. you turn in her arms, struggling, but nonetheless, wrapping your arms around her as she tugs you closer by the waist.

“please don’t.”

—

the sun leaking through the blinds is what wakes you, not sana’s warmth slipping away from you, which, gives you hope. especially when you feel her arms still possessively wrapped around your torso.

something about it warms your heart, but maybe too much, because you swear it stings a little being with her.

you shift in her arms, trying to move away from her grip, because no matter how good it feels, there’s still that lingering in your heart.

sana groans, tugging you closer into her, still half asleep but muttering “don’t leave”— memories from last night settle in your head.

it only fuels you to pull away more, eventually slipping from her arms, the warmth leaving your body, you can’t tell if you like it more than being in her arms or not. but, that’s a mental battle for you to fight later.

for now, you’ve decided to go out, specifically, back to holding up space in nayeon’s apartment.

—

dear sana, i can’t tell if i love or hate you, or maybe a mix of both. what would i call it when it hurts so badly to be near you, but i’m a masochist?

sana’s sat at the island, atop a stool, fingers caressing the pen ink that was imbedded into the cute pink slip of paper. her mind racing, panicked on the inside but keeping a cool exterior, ignoring the buzz of her phone.

miyeon had been blowing her up since yesterday, unfortunately.

sana was fighting her own mental battle, but, she sorta already knew the outcome. she knew she’d stay with you, the only trial left for her to face was if you’d stay with her.

she moves her eyes for the first time all day, it feels, opting to look at her phone screen, ignorant to all those messages, instead focusing on the time: 8:34 PM.

you should be home soon, she wants you home to her, her heart hurts more thinking how you must’ve felt all those nights.

she groans, letting it echo through the barred apartment, putting her arms before her to rest her head in them, ignoring the discomfort in her spine at the bend.

she shuts her eyes, whining and frustrated, she slips into her thoughts again.

never had she ever regretted something so bad.

—

you got home at 10, sharp. jittering the key in and out of the lock a couple times, struggling with cold fingers. but, once you push inside, you lock eyes to sana, smiling softly, but visibly nervous.

“did you wait for me?” you ask, teasing, but with an underline of mocking, shocked the roles had finally swapped.

“of course.” sana tries to keep her smile up, she’s sleepy, but, nonetheless, willing to stay up longer, willing to for you.

“i’m shocked— you’re not out for once.” you pause when you slip off your shoes, continuing when you stand up, eyes narrowed over sana. you walk toward the island, ending up on the opposite side, facing her.

“i’m no longer seeing her, i haven’t, for some time.”

“since i found out?” you grit your teeth, rolling your eyes at her, but unmoving. sana stays hopeful, only huffing before straightening her posture.

“yeah, since you found out. but, i want to clear it up, clear up things with,” she waves her hands around, “her.”.

you scoff, leaning over the table slightly, head in your palms, “go on.”

“i don’t love her, like i love you. in fact, i don’t care for her at all.”

you mull over what she said in your head, trying to not let the ‘i love you’ get you flushed, trying not to fall for her words, even though you know it’s inevitable.

“by the way, your note is gorgeous. the way you voice your feelings has always been— incredible to me.”

again, you huff, forcing yourself to stand tall at the face of sana’s charms.

“if you don’t love her, by the way, why cheat on me?” you feel a small burning at your eyes, and you know your not long to cry, but you try swallowing it down.

sana stills, unsure on how to answer, because why did she?

“i wish, i wish i could tell you.” sana sighs, new sadness over taking her features, and you can’t bare look at her, looking down at the counter.

you try to blink you tears away, but it only makes things worse when you’re facing down. tears spattering to the marble countertop.

“oh, y/n.” sana mutters, you hear a chair screech soon after, followed by light footsteps, and you brace yourself by clenching the table tighter.

and sana, of course, engulfs you in her arms, tugging you into her, her warmth, her oh so familiar arms that somehow make you feel better, even when crying over her.

“it’s okay, i promise, we can do this.” she mutters into your hair, pressing a small kiss into it, gripping you a little tighter, and you wish you didn’t love the comfort of her touch so bad.

you sob a little harder, throwing your arms around her hopelessly, taking in her perfume, all her now, no longer did she reek of another woman.

“please, stay, we can do this.” sana hums, followed by more quiet whispers of affirmation, and you feel yourself slipping more, because how could you stay away from sana?

she leans down a little, grazing her jaw against your own, the skin to skin making you shudder in her arms.

“i love you, y/n.” she whispers to your ear, warm and right into your ear. you can’t tell if she’s helping or making it harder for you.

“please, stay with me.”

how could you say no to her?

[zelphin124]

Killer x Y/N short story

One of the few short stories I will be writing. Requested by the wonderful @itsxroxannex as her honorable mention prize.

I do write commissions and short stories! Do you want a story? I can work with a small price (:

I'm using an image from Bing Image Creator to help the readers visualize where they are at and who they are talking to. It's for visual purposes only, and I do not claim it.

Enjoy the story!

~o0o~

The light from the sun bouncing off the rock hallways started to fade as the moon rose. The dripping from the ceiling had stopped, and monsters and humans started filling the tavern. It was supposed to be very busy tonight.

The tavern was underground, just below the surface life. Dartboards hung across the walls on various barrels. Small candles were lit beside them, either hanging from the ceiling or resting on uniquely carved tables. Carpets were strung across the floor, filled with old designs and symbols that the humans didn't understand, and the monsters refused to explain.

The bar itself looked like any other bar, but the counters were carved into the rocks and the drinks were stored within the earth. The tables were made from woven branches, and the chairs were also made from scattered parts of trees that were no longer needed elsewhere.

You weren't much for drinking. You had only come to the bar to talk with your friend, Shiro. Shiro ran the place during slow hours. Now that the night rush was coming, his co-workers came in to help him run the shift. He wouldn't have much time to talk anymore.

You started to pack your computer, flinging your bag over your shoulder. Shiro had told you of the many tales and tragedies that happen during the night rush, and you didn't want to stick around to become one of them.

"Leaving so soon?" Shiro asked as he wiped the table where you just sat. His baggy white hair fell over his face, and he smiled softly.

"You know how I am with crowds," you responded, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn't. "Well, surely it shouldn't be that busy tonight-"

He was cut off as three skeletons walked down the entrance stairs. It was apparent that they were some sort of gang, as they all wore the same-colored jacket, pants, and shoes. Each of them stood proudly as everyone went silent.

The tallest one had a large hole in his head, and his left eye was huge. It glowed red and barely made any movement when he looked around. He hunched over and had a large ax on his back. He never stopped smiling, which left an unhinged feeling in everyone who saw it.

The shortest one wore a hood over his head. His eyes glowed red, and one of them had a purple and blue tint to it. Unlike his tall counterpart, he never smiled. He glared at everyone who even dared to look at him. Monster ash covered his clothes, sparking fear in all who noticed.

The third one seemed the most normal of the group. His smile was contagious, and his extroverted personality always drew attention to him. Big black stripes dripped from his void eyes down to his neck. His coat was fluffier than the rest, and his soul wasn't hidden. It hung in front of his chest like a big red target. He twirled a knife in his hand before resting it by his side.

The Murder Time Trio, you recalled. You recognized each of their faces from wanted posters across the town. Working under Nightmare, they worked to harvest negativity.

The Star Sanses - rulers of this AU amongst many others - wanted to bring them to justice, but with all of the Sanses abilities to travel alternate universes, they were hard to track down.

You couldn't buy into the fact there were other worlds than your own. The only reason you believed it was the evidence before you; multiple versions of the same person taking different paths.

Shiro glanced over as the tavern filled with noise and music again. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a notepad and pen before walking over to the table they sat at.

The dart games began. Multiple people threw darts across the room to the targets. According to Shiro, this was how all the drama started. Someone would think a shot was unfair, and a fight would break out.

Deciding it wasn't the best idea to stay any longer, you weave through the crowd of monsters and humans trying to get to the bar to drink. You glanced at the table where the trio sat as they talked with Shiro. You pray they don't do anything to your friend.

As you stood between the dart targets, waiting for the round to be over, you eavesdrop on Shiro's conversation. He seemed bored, surprisingly.

"I'll have a margarita," the striped face one said.

"A big beer, please," Horror lowered his head.

"Think you can handle one of those again, Horror?" The striped face asked.

Horror didn't answer him. He waved his hand in dismissal to Shiro as he looked at the menu.

"I see," Shiro scribbled down the orders on his paper. "And for you, Dust?"

"Nothing," the hooded skeleton replied. "Someone has to be sober when Killer isn't."

"Hey, I would do just fine," Killer smirked. "I don't see you..."

The conversation faded out of hearing as shouts echoed across the tavern. Glancing behind you, you see a human and a monster arguing about who hit the target first as they shot their darts at the same time. The shouts almost frightened you, and you didn't think before stepping forward. Your goal was to get away from the chaos before more violence broke out. Maybe you shouldn't have come here, maybe it was a bad idea after all.

A dart flew towards your face.

You didn't have time to react before you were pulled off your feet, resting in the mercy of someone's arms as he caught the dart. "Woah darling, careful there," he sighed, his head turning toward the people who threw it.

You realize the man, or the skeleton that saved your head was Killer. His grip was firm around your waist from when he had pulled you away from the weapon. He dropped the dart and continued to glare at the monster that had thrown it.

The people playing the particular dart game went dead silent, all pointing to the person who threw the dart. He didn't seem to care. "Oh, come on, she walked in front of it! It's not my fault!"

"Pay attention to your surroundings more, mm?" Killer smirked, tilting his head. He turned towards you before the others could reply. "You too, cutie," he smirked, poking your nose. "Gotta be careful in places like these~"

His grip on your waist loosened as you backed up. A blush painted your face as you stared up at him. As your blush increased, so did his smile, making you blush more. The blood rushed to your face as you tried to cover your cheeks with your favorite-colored scarf.

"Do you seriously have to flirt with everyone you see, Killer?" Dust snapped, opening a deck of cards and flushing them across the table.

"Look at them, they're pretty!" Killer replied. "I didn't want them to get scratched by a silly dart!"

"Then they shouldn't be in a place like this," Horror rolled his eyes, glancing at the deck of cards Dust had started dealing.

Instant guilt washed over you. You didn't mean to cause any trouble, and Shiro was nowhere in sight to defend you. You gesture to Killer, thanking him for saving you before telling him you'll leave to not cause any more trouble.

Killer looked you up and down, smiling as his eyes made their way back to your face. "What's your name, Hun?" He smirks slyly.

You tell him your name, scratching your head in the process. One of the most wanted men in the multiverse was talking to you. In fact, he smiled when he looked at you. How could this be?

"Y/N, what a beautiful name," Killer takes a step closer to you, extending his hand. "You plan to get on out of here? I can make sure you get home safely."

You open your mouth to accept the offer but hesitate. He, along with his friends, were mass killers. It was obvious by the dust and blood across their clothes. Was he going to kill you? You had no idea.

If he was, then why would he go out of his way to pull you away from an incoming dart?

"Killer, you play or not?" Horror asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"Not now," Killer didn't take his eyes off you. "I wish to walk this lovely human home."

"Oh, can I come?" Horror smirked, his hand reaching for his ax.

Dust slapped his hand. "Not that kind of walk home," Dust rolled his eyes. "Look at him! His soul his turning into a heart! Pathetic, really."

Dust wasn't lying. Killer's soul had taken the form of an upside-down heart momentarily. You tilt your head in curiosity, surely that was a good sign.

"Hey!" The monster that had thrown the dart earlier shouted. "You broke my dart with your disgusting fingers!"

Killer raised his eyebrows as he shrugged. "Oops."

"That dart cost me hundreds of G!" He growled. "You're gonna pay for that!"

You felt Killer's hands run along your shoulders. "Time to go~" he whispered behind you.

As the monster tumbled near, he suddenly faded from sight. Everything vaporized into stripes as the underground tavern disappeared and was quickly replaced with the cool breeze of the surface.

The moon glimmered in the sky next to the stars as it shined down on the slightly paved street. There were no streetlights, but you could see the village in the distance. Fireflies glittered the sky along with the stars. There were a few trees and a river to cross, and the bridge over the river linked the road.

"Whew, that was close," Killer chuckled, letting go of you. He walked over to your side and smirked down at you. "Don't worry, he won't catch us now."

"Thank you," you sighed with a smile before walking toward the village.

Killer started to follow you. "Hey, I know we like, just met, right? This is a little crazy," he glanced down at the ground as he caught up to you. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he couldn't stop smiling. "But can I get your number?"

You widened your eyes, surprised. He really wanted your number after two minutes. Surely that couldn't be... This couldn't be happening, right? Wasn't that a red flag of some sort, and you, out of all people? You didn't see why someone as famous and as brave as him would pay attention-

You snapped back into reality, realizing that you had given him your phone, and he was already punching in his own number.

"Thanks, doll," Killer smiled to himself. "I didn't expect you to actually say yes. I'll fulfill my promise; let's get you home safely."

How the- you paused, unable to comprehend what just happened.

Despite the darkness and eerie noises surrounding you, you felt at peace. You couldn't help but wonder if that was because a skilled killer was by your side, ready to defend you if anything came your way. He made that clear with his actions at the tavern.

It didn't take long for Killer to start a conversation. He asked many questions and answered any questions you had. He often would laugh, smile, and tease you in such a way that made the butterflies in your stomach squirm. He was very charming, flirtatious, and unique. You couldn't recall if you met anyone like him.

And you liked that.

He was so different from everyone else that you had met, treated you well, and it was so easy to be yourself around him. He brought out a side of you that you thought died a long time ago. That side that made you feel... wild and free.

"Look look look," Killer begged, running off the path toward a lake. He picked up a rock and threw it across the water's surface. It must have skipped a hundred times before it plunged into the depths below. He picked up another one and did the same thing. "It's perfect water to skip the rocks on!"

You join his side and sit on a boulder nearby, watching him skip rocks as he continues to tell you about the first time won a card game, which you learned wasn't very often due to Dust having a special connection with cards.

"The look on his face when I won, hah! Priceless! Should've known better to have challenged me!"

You asked him if he had won the next two games after that.

"Uh, no, but that's not the point silly!" He smiled, heaving a great sigh as he looked up at the stars. He closed his eyes, letting the wind blow across his face as the ripples on the lake settled. The moon complimented his face and made him seem so peaceful and innocent. It highlighted his chest and showed the two small eyes that he had hidden within his skull.

You commented how he looks great in the moonlight. When he asked you how so, you got up and pointed out the various places the moonlight shined on him, and how it made him look so handsome.

"Tch, you're sweet," Killer snickered, brushing the hair out of your face. "But the moonlight on me is better on you."

Before you could recover from the sudden blush, he continued. "Have you ever skipped a stone across the water?"

As you shook your head, Killer frowned. He turned you around to face the lake and picked a stone up from the ground, admiring it in the moonlight. "Here, I'll teach you darling." He placed the stone in your hand and gestured that you try.

You tossed the rock into the water, it sunk in front of you.

"Heh, not like that." Killer came up from behind you and grabbed your wrists gently. "Here, let me guide you."

For the next thirty minutes, Killer moved your wrists in the correct motion. He gave tips on what to do with your fingers when you release the rock. You would have gotten it much sooner if you weren't so distracted by his sweet breath brushing against your cheek.

As you threw your hundredth stone, it skipped across the water more times than you can count. Joy filled your face, and your smile only increased when you heard Killer congratulate you.

"That was awesome!" He gleamed, running his hand along his skull. He quickly picked up a stone and skipped it across the water to catch up with yours. "Fast learner, eh?"

Before you could reply, Killer came up to you and embraced you. His hug was so snug, you felt safe in his arms. You wrap your arms around his back as the tension in your body flees. He was so warm, and he held you so tight... you didn't want to leave his arms.

Alas, it didn't last for long. Killer smiled and took your hand, guiding you up back to the path. "Alright, it's best I get you home, cutie," he smiled slyly. "The boys are probably wondering where I am."

You were closer to your home than you thought, to your dismay. Killer stood close to you, putting his hood over his skull to hide his face from the town as they turned down the street to your house. You almost had forgotten that he was a wanted killer with how enjoyable your time was with him. Surely, he wasn't all everyone said he was... he was so nice to you.

"Lovely house you have, I'll have to visit you sometime," Killer commented, smiling his usual charming smile as you approached the door. "Y/N, it was fun getting to know you, I'll call ya, alright? You're too pretty to say goodbye to, anyway."

You invited him to stay and watch a movie, but he declined.

"Nah, I'm sure Dust and Horror would be suspicious... besides, I cannot stay in the town for long unless I want Nightmare mad..." He took a few steps toward you until he was inches away from your face. He continued to smile as he took your hand. "However," he paused. He lifted your hand up to his face and kissed it gently. Once he met your eyes again, he smirked softly again. "I'm sure I could make an exception for you another night."

You didn't know how much more of his teasing you could take as your face turned red. You held your hand as if it was made of diamonds.

"Heh, you're so cute," Killer backed up into the street. "See ya later, Y/N."

You barely waved in time before he vanished from sight.

You couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the night. He treated you kindly, and his jokes were so funny... you longed for his company, despite his reputation. How long had it been since the tavern? A couple of hours? Were all monsters like this? Maybe there was a special thing about monsters where you grew attached quicker than another human. As if they understood the value of another living being and had a way to make another feel at ease around them. You tried to figure it out as you winded down for the night.

Maybe they were masters at this feeling that you felt: love.

Or maybe Killer was just special like that.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. they are around 25 and 24 here respectively. reader is described as having hair that can be tied back from her face with a ribbon, no use of nicknames. wc 1.8k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune as always!!!!

There’s a velvet ribbon on Gojo Satoru’s bedroom floor. 

There’s very little light in the room but the moon catches the sheen of the fabric just right and he bends at the waist to pick it up, smoothing his thumb over the soft beneath it just like he’s tempted to do to your cheek, eyes instantly drifting to the bed as he rises, ribbon wrapped around his palm. It’s as blue as the sky or, as the admittedly full of himself man assumes, his eyes and he flexes his hand to hold the fabric taut.

It must have been tossed off during the events of the past evening, it was tied around your neck at one point as a makeshift accessory, and the blurry memories make him blush slightly to recall, cheeks heating if he thinks too long about the bounce of your body against his. He chooses to focus instead on the here and now, what’s in front of him, than recall memories and he steps closer to the edge of your side of the bed. 

You slumber mere inches from where he’s standing, your body tangled in soft sheets. One of your feet sticks out, one of your arms is tossed over your eyes despite the black mask covering them (his, of course), and your hair sticks up over the edge of the duvet that otherwise obscures the rest of your face. He supposes he’ll leave you alone for now, choosing instead to rub his thumb over the ribbon again. It’s a close enough match for your cheek that it’ll simply have to sate his endless hunger to feel you until the sun rises. 

Plucking his phone from his pocket to glance at the time with his unoccupied hand, he groans and blue eyes narrow looking over the little numbers on the screen. 4:15 am. Too early for you to be awake. Probably too early for him as well but there’s nothing that can be done about that besides toss and turns until he disturbs you so he pads quietly across the floor, headed toward the kitchen, ribbon tangled between his fingers until he shoves it into his pocket to get the day really started.

This is all routine for him. Waking up, wandering around, finding you all over his apartment - your purse on the floor by the door, the blanket you’ve had since you were a child on top of a basket in the living room, a tube of lip balm across the kitchen counter from him. 

Pulling the coffee beans from the jar on the counter, dumping them into the grinder, one two three pulses for the perfect consistency to allow the water to best soak the bean fragments. He reaches into a cupboard and slips his mug out, buried behind a sea of your own that have gradually taken up every corner of the shelf, but he doesn’t mind having all of these little reminders of you around.

For far too long you resisted leaving any trace of yourself behind and now his bathroom counter is gradually getting more crowded with each overnight product you “forget” to take with you when you leave. The dresser he bought specifically for you, the jumbled way you leave your shoes at the front door. His space is no longer just his, it’s yours too and he ponders what that means to himself while idly sticking his hand in his pocket and waiting for water to heat, rubbing the ribbon.

The sleek electric kettle he turned on 8 minutes ago clicks to let him know the water is hot enough to pour and he drops four sugar cubes into a mug, setting up the rest of his pour over system with a small yawn. The kitchen bursts with the fresh scent of coffee and he hears rustling from the other side of the apartment that tells him it’s time to start making yours, pulling another cup from the cupboard and placing it next to his, dropping two cubes to his four inside. 

It’s just how things should be, he thinks. No more going between two places and scurrying back to your apartment, he wants you here. It’s selfish to demand you give him the space you’ve shown him you desire to maintain but isn’t it equally selfish and punishing for you to deny him? It isn’t often anyone does that and you’re the only person who seems to get away with it. 

Speaking of, he hears your shuffling footsteps across the floor and pours water over the top of your mug and the sugar cubes nestled in the bottom of it, fresh coffee trickling down into the ceramic below. 

“Oh there she is,” he sings and you groan, wrapped in the duvet you pulled off of the bed with you. Again, this is something only you’d be able to get away with and he grins at your partially opened eyes and the way your head pops out of the fabric. Your hair’s a mess, you’re hardly coherent, but you smell coffee and a small smile slips across your face. 

Satoru opens his arms and beams, watching you shuffle slowly across the kitchen floor. Each step makes you feel more alive until you find yourself face first in his chest, burying your nose in the fabric of his sleep shirt. He dips his head to kiss the top of yours and you giggle, still heavy with sleep. 

“Good mornin’,” your voice is obscured thanks to where you’re pressed against him but he doesn’t struggle to make out what you’re saying, smoothing a big hand over your blanket covered back. 

“Good morning sunshine,” he sings in return, awfully musical this morning, but you grin and unbury your head from the blanket, pulling it away as one would a cloak. He gasps when he sees your face and you roll your eyes in response, puckering and craning your head for a kiss, uncaring about silly things like morning breath or drool around your mouth because you know he’ll kiss you regardless.

Satoru does, of course, with a dramatic flourish and a smack and a hum. The drip, drip, drip of your coffee tapers off and you smile as he leans away from you, reaching behind himself to grab two cups of coffee. You wrap your arms around his waist and he looks around, lost, knowing he can’t walk you to the living room and hold the coffees so he kisses your forehead and hands you yours, one of your hands surfacing from a gap in the duvet that covers you.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Walk with me.”

He instructs and you follow, waddling behind him with both of your hands pressed to the sides of your mug. The duvet drags and he plops down on the living room sofa, holding his coffee high above his head so that you can slide into your normal place - your chest pressed against his and you straddling his thighs and hips. He holds you against your chest and you let the duvet hang off of your body, finally awake enough to emerge from your proverbial cocoon.

Pulling his coffee back down and sipping from it, he lets you further settle against his chest and kisses your forehead, pushing your messy hair off of your face. You look up at him with a sleepy smile and sip from your own mug, blinking slowly to further rise for the day. Looking down at you he wants to keep you just like this, every morning, forever, and he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it anymore, his brows raised.

“Move in with me.”

You giggle, shaking your head to brush your hair off of your face without use of your hands.

“So good last night you don’t want me to leave?”

He chuckles, putting his coffee down on the table to the left of him and digging in his pocket, producing the ribbon. It catches your eye and you smile, reaching out to touch it and giggling when he wraps it around your hair and ties it messily, successfully getting all but a few strands off of your pretty face. 

“Can’t ever let you leave after that, what kind of man would I be?”

You giggle but Satoru wonders for a moment if it would be so bad to tell you the truth - that he doesn’t want a single corner of his life unoccupied by you, the warm light you emit just by naturally being you makes his apartment feel like a home. It’s terrifying, though, to consider being bare and truthful and he’s been trying to do it more lately. To give you a glimpse inside of himself the way he so easily sees inside you. 

The truth will come out eventually, he decides. It always does. A lopsided grin comes across his face and he looks down at you, long lashed eyes fluttering and making you smile. He yanks on the makeshift ponytail your hair is tied into and you frown playfully at him, jutting your lower lip out. 

“That’s not a very nice way to treat your live-in girlfriend.”

His eyes widen and you don’t miss the little light within them when he glances at you. He may intentionally hide how he’s feeling but they never do and you press your face back into his chest and he plucks your coffee from your hand, wrapping his own around the warmth. 

“You mean it?”

He holds the mug to your lips and tips it enough that you can sip and you nod, swallowing with a smile. 

“I’m here all the time anyway, even when you’re gone. I can’t remember the last time I went to my apartment, this is home.”

Home. The word sits heavily between the two of you but neither one moves to say anything further, Gojo tipping your mug toward your lips again to let you take a sip while you cling to his chest. There has always been a makeshift home for the other in each of you, arms and hearts and less wholesome places where the two of you have made the other belong, but a tangible place for the two of you to share feels different.

It feels good.

He leans forward and kisses the top of your head, pulling you across his lap and closer to his chest. There’s no space between the two of you, just as he likes it, and he feels indescribable fondness imagining doing this every single day from now on, not just after a wild night that left you too sleepy to return home.

“Welcome home then, I guess.” 

You giggle and nod, keeping your head pressed against his chest. 

“Now you’ll never get rid of me.”

 A lovesick half smile you can’t see dances across his face and he rocks you gently in his arms, making you whine and try to push him off. It’s no use. It’s not like you’re really trying anyway and he dips down to kiss your cheek, keeping his lips pressed against the soft, velvety skin even as he speaks.

“That’s the plan.”

[autisticlancemcclain]

this is how it continued

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

This is how it ends.

———

Lance tries for weeks to make it end.

The words crawl up like bile in the back of his throat. Keith, he tries to say, time and time again, we need to talk. And when he manages to push through the stinging burn and say them, breath turning to dust in his lungs, Keith crooks his finger under Lance’s chin and meets Lance’s eyes and replies, just as quietly, Of course, sweetheart. What’s wrong?

And every time Lance is faced with the softness in his dark eyes, the steady way he holds his gaze. And every time something inside him cracks, desperate and howling and selfish after being deprived so long, and his bravery dries up like a tiny stream in the summer heat. And instead of saying When did you start loving me, Keith, ‘cause you woke up one day and decided we’d been together for ages and everyone thinks you’re crazy his chin trembles and his eyes burn and he cries, again, and tells Keith of the months without him.

Every day I’m sorry I left you behind, Keith whispers into the heat of Lance’s skin, and every time in response Lance knows, I do not deserve this from you. And the desperate howling selfish part of him grows stronger and stronger.

Lance needs to make it end.

———

He cannot make it end publicly.

It’s too…messy for that. It has been too long now. He hasn’t counted the days but he knows what it looks like right before Keith screams himself awake, now, knows how to press his cold hands to the side of his neck and the curve of his ribs to startle his dream-self into thinking kinder thoughts. He knows how the chip on Keith’s right front tooth feels on his tongue, his knuckles, his shoulder. He knows that Keith showers with his eyes shut out of years of habit of showering in the dark and fearing the sting of the soap.

Rarely do they stop at a hotel. Usually they sleep in shifts, staying in space for days at a time instead of resting every night. It’s horrible and cramped and makes everyone cranky, but it brings them home faster. After everyone is fed up of air travel, which never takes long, they often stop somewhere small and uninhabited and out of the way – a moon, a burgeoning planet, a long-abandoned one. Whatever is closest. On those nights, the nine of them, plus the animals, will stretch and enjoy the fresh air, if there is any, maybe watch a setting sun. And then they will make a fire and cook rations or a real meal, if they can find ingredients and Hunk or Lance have the energy. And after everyone has eaten and conversations have long begun to slow, after teeth have been brushed and faces have been washed, after their friends have nodded off one by one, Keith will push their bedrolls together to make one, spread a blanket over the two of them, and hold Lance close; without question, without hesitation. And he will be out in moments, gently snoring along to whatever alien crickets are crooning into the night, and Lance will trace the shape of his face under the light of the dying embers and forget to be guilty. He will feel safe in Keith’s hold like he does not feel anywhere else and his feet will be warmed between Keith’s thighs. He will fall asleep with a smile on his face.

———

Five months into their journey, Coran says: “I have an announcement to make.”

“What’s up?” Pidge asks, swinging her feet from where she sits sideways in her chair, hair a mess, face buried in the not-quite-DS they found a few planets back. Lance smiles and rolls his eyes.

“In the next quintaint, we will be approaching Deruyn. The Deruy were close friends of the Alteans, eons ago, and the Chancellor has extended to me an invitation to reacquaint ourselves. If you’re all amenable, my dears, we have been invited to stay in the guest wing of her royal quarters for a week.”

Lance straightens up, rubber band ball he was toying with slipping from his grasp. He hears it bounce several times behind him before an abrupt stop, and then a very angry moo. He winces.

“Sorry, Kaltenecker.”

She huffs, clearly still miffed.

Everyone is talking over each other, eyes bright and excited through their video connections. Coran looks pleased, watching them all chatter. Lance catches his eye and smiles at him.

A whole week in a royal wing…and a real royal wing! Nothing like the paladin quarters they lived in on the Castle. They bedrooms will be huge, probably; fancy and ornate. Maybe a canopy bed and pillows comfier than Lance can even fathom.

And baths. Lance hopes there are big, deep baths he can almost swim in.

“You look dreamy.”

Keith’s amused voice startles him out of his daydreaming, although he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Everyone else is still chattering on, bubbling with excitement — no one is looking at him.

“I am,” Lance admits. He puts a hand to his forehead and sighs, more dramatically than necessary, pleased when it brings the expected reaction of Keith’s fond little smile. “There might be baths, Keith. Real baths. And oils and soaps and soft towels. And pillows! And a queen-sized bed!”

Keith’s smile turns teasing. “What you need is an Alaskan king.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Keith’s laugh has gotten rumblier since his space whale growth spurt, that’s the only way Lance can explain it. It’s softer and darker and suggests smile lines around his eyes he didn’t have before. Every time Lance looks at them he imagines them getting deeper and wider.

“Been a while since we’ve been somewhere with a real bed, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Gotta make sure they don’t book us two separate rooms again,” Keith huffs, crease appearing between his eyebrows. “I still don’t know what that was about.”

Lance’s mouth goes dry.

I do, he should be saying. I know exactly why there were two separate rooms booked for us. In fact I can guarantee it will happen again.

But he is a coward. And the words die somewhere in his belly, before they can come anywhere near his throat.

———

It takes time to reach Deruyn. Some of this is because Shiro read the map backwards and set them back two days. (“I’m dyslexic!” he had defended, to their booing and whining. “There is not booing and whining to dyslexia! Do you boo and whine a lisp? No! Let me live!”)

By the time they finally manage to drag their poor, exhausted Lions to the sizeable planet, everyone’s excitement is so palpable Lance doesn’t need an emotional bond to feel it.

“Fresh air,” sighs Allura.

“Good food,” seconds Hunk.

“People to talk to that aren’t you fools,” agrees Pidge.

“A mattress,” Keith adds, and shoots Lance a wink.

Despite himself and rolling mess of feeling in his stomach, Lance flushes.

Coran accepts a call as soon as they’re within radio range, greeting a narrow-faced, pink-skinned woman who must be the Chancellor. Immediately they delve into a conversation that Lance doesn’t even pretend to follow. He recognizes Coran’s tone from the many times his mother would strike up a conversation with an aunt or uncle or any guest at all as they were leaving the house — this conversation could be hours long. His eyes glaze over, sliding away from his Lion’s display to take in the planet in front of him.

Deluyn is large, that much is obvious. It’s hard to scale something with such magnitude when it’s so close to your face, but if Lance had to guess, he would place it somewhere between Jupiter and the Balmera. It has no rings but the whole planet seems to glow, slightly, although Lance can see no clear source for it. The colours visible from orbit are entirely alien to him, so he’s not sure what is water, if anything is, but from the angry look of the planet’s poles, the dark green things are clouds.

What feels like a million hours later, but it probably only around fifteen minutes, there’s a click as the Chancellor and Coran end their call, and they are urged forward into landing. As they get closer to the landing strip, Lance notices dozens of children sprinting along the barrier, holding signs and flags and cheering. He grins, twisting his hands tighter around Red’s controls, hanging back just slightly from formation to give himself space to move. Then he yanks the controls to the side, feeling Red roar as she whips around in a tight circle, flames rolling down her back. The children jump up and down, fists raised, mouths open in shouts of joy. Several of their grownups watch with wide grins, too, necks craned to watch Lance spin around.

He pulls back into formation after a couple of tricks, sliding smoothly in between Black and Blue. His heart rate ticks up, and suddenly his undersuit feels tight, itchy. He squirms in his seat. When Shiro’s face pops up to relay landing instructions he flinches, and immediately hates himself for the hurt look that eclipses his friend’s face.

“…Lance?” Shiro asks softly, confusion lining his voice. He looks like a kicked puppy. Lance is a monster.

“I’m just jumpy, I’m just jumpy,” he assures, forcing a smile and holding it there until Shiro’s shoulders relax. “You know. So excited to see where we’ll be staying.”

“Yeah, me too! Coran even said they have this massive sauna they’re really famous for. I can’t wait. I miss what saunas do for my skin. And, plus, having our own rooms will be nice.” His excited grin turns sly. “Well, most of us will have our own room.”

Lance’s heart pounds for a totally different reason. “Okay thanks Shiro bye —”

He reaches to cut the connection but Shiro stops him, laughing.

“No, no, wait, I’ve got landing instructions. Their staff is limited so we gotta go one at a time, okay, stay in your Lion once you’re parked in case you need to adjust…”

Thankfully it’s nothing too complicated. Keith lands first, and Lance next to him, then Pidge, then Allura, then Hunk. Once they’re all parked and confirmed by ground control, they’re cleared it exit, none of them taking their time.

Well, everyone else disembarks pretty fast. Kaltenecker remains and stubborn pain in the ass as usual, and Lance is stuck trying desperately to drag an 800 something pound cow that has absolutely no desire to work with him. “Kallie,” he begs, tugging uselessly on her leash, “you dumb ass fucking animal. Please. I am begging you. I put up with your farts in the cabin for days on end, which has got to be shaving years off my life. The food I feed you could be better but in all fairness, I’m getting the same slop you are, so. Maybe cut me some slack.”

She doesn’t even moo at him.

Lance tries bribery.

“Say, you want good food? I bet they have good food on this planet. Nice, sweet, fresh grass. You love grass. You want grass? Please come on, Kallie. Everyone else has already left and I’m going to die of embarrassment if I’m the last paladin left, doing the walk of shame with his stubborn cow behind him. The jokes will write themselves. I’ll have to quit and join a travelling circus, and then who will put up with you? Remember that Allura wants to turn you into hamburgers.”

Clearly hamburgers were the wrong thing to mention, because if cows can glare, Kaltenecker does. She even has the audacity to huff her cow breath at him and drag them both further into Red. Red, who is a traitor, does absolutely nothing to help and is in fact laughing herself sick, loudly, in Lance’s mind.

“I shoulda left you in that damn mall,” Lance grumbles, not meaning it. He sighs and collapses against his cow’s side, closing his eyes. Just his luck. The rest of his friends are gallivanting about a fancy-dancy castle as guests of honour, and Lance is babysitting a methane machine. “I’m gonna have to sleep here tonight, aren’t I.”

“Well, I hope not.”

Lance yelps, jumping to his feet. Unfortunately, in his haste, his boot hooks around Kaltenecker’s hoof, and since she is still unmoving, he goes sprawling. Fortunately, Keith got stranded in a space whale for two years and took Prince Charming classes, or something, so he catches him.

“You’re such a nervous wreck,” Keith says fondly, leaning down to kiss him instead of letting Lance stand like a normal person. (Not. That Lance. Is necessarily complaining. But for prosperity’s sake, and everything, keeping a man in a dip for too long is just undignified, Keith, you should know that, you graduated top of your class from Fairytale University. So. Pull yourself together.)

“Am not,” Lance protests. He sighs as Keith adjusts his hold on him, patting around blindly until he finds the edge of Keith’s braid and undoing it. He slides his hands in that thick hair with a relish as soon as it’s free, making Keith chuckle (but, wisely, not say anything, because the one and only time he commented Lance avoided him for two days out of pure embarrassment).

“I sent the rest of the team on when you didn’t come out. Figured Kaltenecker was giving you trouble.” He meets Lance’s eyes and grins, dark eyes mischievous and sparkling, and Lance is seriously going to walk off a bridge because who authorized that, who, who approved the combination of big dark eyes and a crooked grin and a face that promises trouble. Huh? The fuck’s up with that. “Figured I could help.”

Lance manages to find a shred of dignity within himself and steps slightly away. “That’s great, Noble Kent, but last I checked you couldn’t drag an 800 pound heifer either, so.”

Keith nods. “‘Course not. Brought Kosmo. Here, boy.”

The wolf poofs to existence at Keith’s side, barking excitedly. He bounds up to Lance first, expecting his usual barrage of kisses and head scratches (which he gets), then gets all shy as he walks over to his crush. Kaltenecker looks over at him and no lie rolls her eyes, looking away again. Kosmo, however, is undeterred, barking happily before blipping them both out of existence.

“She is never gonna love you, dude,” Keith says, shaking his head.

Lance snorts, taking Keith’s offered hand and heading down Red’s ramp (finally). “Wouldn’t it be weirder if she did? I think we’d have to break them up. Like, ethically.”

“Could be a Donkey and Dragon situation.”

“Shut up. It ruins my perception of you every time I’m reminded you’ve seen Shrek.”

“You’re perception of me,” Keith repeats, musing. His right eyebrow twitches, and it’s too small to see at arm’s distance, but Lance knows a tiny scar ripples there, from when he was fourteen and got it pierced in defiance of Shiro. “What is your perception of me?”

Lance keeps himself steady. He puts one foot in front of the other and keeps his left hand held in Keith’s. There is nothing interrogating in Keith’s tone, he reminds himself, although maybe there should be. When he looks up Keith’s eyes are open and curious and something else he doesn’t know how to name.

“You’re honest,” he says quietly. He means to say more, has a list he could probably recite bullet by bullet, but he doesn’t.

“Honest,” Keith mutters to himself. “Huh.”

Lance swallows. He doesn’t know how he could possibly explain the weight to that. Keith is committed and brave and talented and beautiful. But more than that he is truthful. Does he see? Does he know?

An empty landing pad passes remarkably slowly when two people walk in silence. There are crafts of all kinds and tarmac upon tarmac. Eventually, though, they start walking somewhere a little more crowded; thin, reedy people resembling the Chancellor waving to them as they pass. Lance would stop to ask for directions, but the giant castle is kind of hard to miss, so they just walk in the direction of it hope their armour will do the talking for them.

Keith catches a richly dyed ribbon blowing by as they pass through a crowded market, trapping the fine thing between his fingers as it passes between them. It’s a strange and familiar colour, walking the line between indigo and deep violet. He glances around for a stall that might be selling them, and when he can’t find one, he turns to Lance and says, “Hold out your arm.”

Lance does. Carefully, Keith unlatches his vambrace, tucking it under his arm, then peels up his undersuit to lay bare his wrist. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly in concentration as he ties it among Lance’s dozens of string bracelets, right above his blue Moana watch still counting the hours back home.

“There,” he says proudly. “Looks good on you.”

Lance reaches up and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

———

They know they will be teased when they finally meet with their friends at the castle.

“Let’s not,” Keith suggests, nodding at the guards who move to let them past.

“I’ll find out where our room is?” Lance says.

Keith nods. “Yeah, we’ll need that.”

“‘Kay, wait here. Don’t be obvious, or Allura will smell drama and come running.”

He’s jinxed them by saying anything at all — no sooner do the words leave his lips does Keith tense up, screwing up his face in an attempt to appear neutral but resembling instead someone who is trying very hard not to sneeze. Lance manages not to laugh, squeezing his hand once before darting off, choosing a random corridor and going with it.

Thankfully, he manages to find a person who holds a clipboard and walks with a purpose, so he assumes they know what they’re doing. Double thankfully, they do, and not only direct him to their rooms but press a labeled map into his hands. It even has a schedule on the back for mealtimes and room cleaning, which is something Lance totally forgot existed. He runs back to Keith quickly, careful to avoid the kitchen and the armoury — places he’s sure his friends will be.

Keith is earnestly inspecting a mounted sword on the wall when Lance returns. His nose is maybe an inch from the polished blade, probably less, honestly. Lance bites his lip to hold down a snicker and takes a picture, intending blackmail, but it ends up being the perfect shot — his hair is slightly wavy from the braid he wore earlier, and there’s a cute scrunch to his nose, not to mention his squinted eyes like he’s wishing for reading glasses. It becomes Lance’s background almost without him meaning to.

“C’mon, nerd,” he calls, smiling as Keith startles. “I got a map and someone is gonna meet us there with a key. I wanna check it out, get a move on.”

Keith does indeed hurry over. “I’m so glad they got it right this time. One room! No need to debate over it.”

Lance falters. He’d been so caught up in the excitement of the room and then Kaltenecker and then…Keith, he forgot. They’re not what Keith thinks they are, what Lance has been pretended to be.

“Right,” he manages, mouth suddenly dry. He desperately tries to shove the enthusiasm back in his voice, forcing his face into a smile when Keith looks back. “Right, yeah, that’s so much less of a pain.”

There is indeed someone with a key when they get to the room. The door is light, in both colour and material, and although his feelings are still heavy and conflicting, his excitement wins out. Keith takes the key, thanking the attendant, and a small voice in the back of Lance’s mind whispers this could be them some day, on Earth, with a key of their own. He does his best to ignore it.

“Ready?” Keith asks.

“Please oh please let the bed be bigger than Red’s cabin,” he responds.

Keith snorts. Slowly, out of what must be a desire to torture Lance, he slides the key into the lock and turns it. Lance doesn’t hesitate before shoving it open.

“It is bigger than the cabin!” he shouts, and wastes no time running up and onto it.

He practically sinks into the mattress, so soft it’s like it’s made of hopes and dreams. The blankets are the fluffiest things he’s ever felt in his life. And the space — he stretches out as far as he can, fingers to toes, and not a single limb comes even close to the edge of the bed.

The mattress dips beside him, and a hand slides along the back of his neck.

“This is you before you notice the big canopy.”

Lance lifts his head immediately. He fights back a very undignified squeal when he does, indeed, see a gossamer blue canopy hanging softly from the high ceilings.

“And the windows too, sweetheart. Floor to ceiling, like you like ‘em.”

Lance scrambles to his knees to check. They are. And the view is breathtaking.

“And the bathtub? Is it huge and clawfooted?”

Keith ducks his head, smiling, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll go check, you grandma. You take your armour off.”

He listens for Keith’s footsteps, waits for them to go from carpet to tile, waits for the “Yep! Claw foot!”, waits for the sound of rushing taps even though he didn’t ask, even though Keith didn’t offer. He turns on his back and stares as the canopy, inspecting the padded wooden roof structure from which the gauzy curtains hang, tracing its sturdy edges and even corners.

Keith makes him feel so warm.

He’s felt a lot of cold, in a lot of places, for a lot of his life. Part of it is the stupid anaemia that he gets to live with. Part of it is stuff he doesn’t like to think about. But Keith comes in with his warm hands and warm smile and stupid big warm heart, and Lance is thawed in every frozen inch of him. It’s good. It’s so good.

He wants it so desperately.

He comes when Keith calls, stripping his armour along the way. Keith is waiting for him in the bath when he gets there — and it is huge, close enough for them to both sit comfortably without brushing so much as a toe against each other, but of course Lance settles his spine against the curve of Keith’s chest the second he slips inside the steaming water. The room smells of sandalwood and lilac.

“You are so important to me,” Keith murmurs, seemingly at random, pressing his lips along Lance’s stretched neck, following the arch of it as he tips his head back to rest on Keith’s shoulder.

Lance’s breath sighs out of him, rising and mixing with the steam. He lifts a shaking hand to twine it to Keith’s, squeezing. Their joined hands are wet against his chest. Together they rise, up and down, up and down, up and down, with every shaky breath.

———

They giggle like teenagers, sneaking into the kitchen well after dark and well after most of the castle has finally gone to bed.

Neither has wanted to face the team’s teasing just yet, or even the team at all, really. Their room can’t be called a room so much as a small apartment — bookshelves lining the wall that Keith had been eyeing for hours, a massive wardrobe, a beautiful velvet sofa, even a small icebox. Neither of them have said it but it feels, implicitly, like their own little space, their own little commune, beyond the privacy of a hotel room. It feels like somewhere they could live. They’re billions of miles away from Earth and anywhere Lance could consider home, but it’s nice to pretend, and neither of them is ready to hop back into reality — or Hunk’s roasting — quite yet.

(It is not what Lance’s mind is pretending. In no world could they ever live in a castle like this. It is foolish to spend his time fantasizing about a future they will probably never have, a home they will never build. The guards stationed at every door should break Lance’s fantasy. But he has always been very, very good at pretending.)

“Just grab some of everything,” he whispers to Keith. “We have actual room cleaning, remember? We can have some dirty dishes, no one will mind.”

“There’s certainly space for it,” Keith agrees.

In minutes the two of them have piled almost more than they can carry. They’re much slower on the walk back, but no less giddy. As soon as the door is locked shut behind them, they’re sat on the bed, even though eating on a bed is disgusting and usually Lance would never permit it, and stuffing their faces.

“Oh my God, this thing tastes like strawberries. Here, try.” Keith holds up a juicy looking silver fruit, Lance leans over to bite it. It does taste like strawberry. He dusts off his hands and crawls over to chase the taste off Keith’s tongue.

“Strawberries get you going?” Keith mumbles, and Lance grins and says, “Something like that.”

They have more food than they can possibly eat and they eat until they can barely move. The rest they wrap up and stick in the icebox.

He can feel Keith falling asleep, head getting heavier, so he pats him gently on the hip and whispers, “Come on, get up, at least get ready first. Wash your face.”

Keith groans. He squishes his face further into Lance’s belly, making him squirm and laugh, and mutters something he can barely here. “Hnnngh. You first. I’ll catch up.”

“You’ll fall asleep,” Lance scolds, but he gets up first anyway. When he glances behind him he sees that Keith has at least managed to put one foot on the ground, so maybe he really will get up and put some pyjamas on.

Lance snorts. Yeah, right.

He takes his time and pokes around the bathroom, having been too preoccupied to do so beforehand. There’s a stack of fluffy towels and cloths on a shelf, and even a couple rough ones for exfoliating. In a cupboard lies dozens of soaps and oils and creams and a million other things, labelled in that same holographic translator stuff the Olkarions use so Lance can read them easily. He is impressed by the wide range of selection — he’s been slowly rebuilding his skincare collection, and will indeed be looting at least half of these bottles to complete it. There’s enough stuff here to do a whole soak. Nice.

Then he turns towards the sink. And he stares.

And he starts to cry.

Laid out exactly as he likes it is his stuff from his pack. His toothbrush, his primary face wash, his hair brush, his lotion, everything. In order of how he uses it, with the sink in the middle, and everything an appropriate distance from the sink so he doesn’t soak the whole counter trying to reach for whatever comes next in his routine. A setup his has perfected over many years and has had genuine conniptions over misplaced steps and wrong orders. Something inane and stupid and that only matters to him.

Of course Keith has noticed, of course Keith has memorized, of course he has replicated.

Lance is a horrible, horrible person.

This is has to be how it ends.

“Keith!” he shouts, and the man comes in running, half groggy and robbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s in a t-shirt and boxers.

“Lance?”

“My brush is — in the wrong place.”

Keith inspects him carefully. “You’re crying.”

“Because the brush is in the wrong place! I keep it in the same spot, I like it here, you know I like it here, why is it —”

He interrupts himself with a great, heaving hiccup, so large it shakes his whole body, and he’s furious with himself, with his shaking hands, with the careful look on Keith’s face.

This is how it ends.

This is how it ends.

This is how it ends.

“This is not where my brush goes,” he insists again, desperate to keep his voice steady, desperate to make it angry.

“Okay,” Keith says simply. He walks over and pulls the brush gently from Lance’s hands. “Where do you want it?”

Lance tries to breathe in. His chest shakes and shudders, poking holes in his voice. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?

“No, you’re supposed to — I’m being unreasonable.”

“You’re upset about something.”

“Something stupid.”

“Okay. I’ll fix it. I can fix it.”

“No, you can’t — I’m not —”

The rest of his strength leaves him.

This is how it ends.

This is how it ends.

Why can’t he make it end.

Slowly, Keith reaches out to grab his hands. Lance lets him, like the coward he is.

“Come to bed, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day. You need to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers, defeated, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them shut as Keith guides him to the giant bed, as he pulls back the covers, as he crawls in and waits for the sound of the light switch to be flicked off, of the tiny creak of Keith’s weight as he joins him.

For a long moment Keith is quiet. Long enough that Lance would assume he’d fallen asleep, except that he still sits upright, except that his hand has slid under Lance’s shirt, and his thumb traces a line across the small of his back, over and over again.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he whispers.

A new tear slips hot down Lance’s face.

This is how it ends.

He knows, or at least he must suspect. Maybe he realized his mistake some time ago, and has been waiting for Lance to fess up, to explain why he went along with Keith’s mistaken affection in the first place. Why he used Keith, confused as he was, for his own selfish needs.

“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. He can’t bring himself to turn around, to sit up, to meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith’s hand doesn’t so much as twitch. “What for?”

“For leading you on.”

That certainly gives him pause.

“Leading me…on?”

“Yeah.” Lance sniffles, dragging himself upright and away from Keith’s affectionate hands, huddled against the massive headboard. “You came back…confused. I don’t know. You thought we were in love. I wanted it, so I let you. I’ve been manipulating you.”

“Lance…” Even only in the silvery blue moonlight streaming in from the windows, Keith’s face is unmistakable, obvious; strong brow creased in worry, head tilted in confusion, face pulled with something like desperation. “Lance, we are in love. Aren’t we? I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”

Lance shakes his head. His tears make his face crumple and he knows how ugly that makes him look, so he hides his face.

“No, I made you feel that way, I didn’t correct you back then and it’s habit now so…”

He trails off. Keith doesn’t respond. He wonders if he’ll stay the night, bed surely big enough for him to sleep without touching Lance at all, or if he’ll have to go get a new room.

A tiny, tiny part of Lance’s brain recognises the irony in that and wants him to laugh. But the steady breaking of his heart keeps it at bay.

“…Back at the tarmac,” Keith says what feels like hours later, startling Lance out of his skin. He looks up at the man with wide eyes, having half-convinced himself he was already gone, and Keith meets his gaze determinedly. “Back at the tarmac, you said I was honest. Did you mean that?”

Lance swallows.

“Yes.”

Keith holds his gaze, looking for something, then nods, having found it. “Believe me then, sweetheart.” He crawls forward, slowly, as if he is afraid Lance will startle away from him. That fear is what startles Lance out of his stupor, out of his guilt, out of the dread that has been building in his stomach for months. He hasn’t seen that kind of fear — the fear of getting too close — on Keith face since he came back. And never does he want to see it again. He throws himself into Keith’s arms, too hard, hard enough to hurt, but Keith catches him and holds him and squeezes just as painfully tightly. “I love you, star of my skies.”

“That’s cheesy as hell,” Lance croaks, and Keith laughs, wetly and beautifully. “I love you too.”

“Good.” Keith kisses the top of his head. “Good.” He exhales, long and shuddering; relieved. “God, I spent two years waiting for this exact moment.”

The statement strikes Lance as odd. “This exact moment.”

Keith tenses. Lance tenses, too, and immediately he relaxes again, breathing steadily until Lance matches him.

“On the space whale, time was…stretchy.”

“You mentioned.”

“Two years I lost.”

Lance tightens his hold. “I know.”

“Most of it was survival camping, really, but there were these visions, sometimes. For Krolia and me. Our pasts. You guys, in the present.” He takes a breath. “Our future.”

Somehow, Lance gets the feel he’s not talking about his and Krolia’s.

“Our future?”

Keith’s breath tickles his neck. Lance doesn’t dare move. Goosebumps pimple his skin and he lets them, shivering, warmed.

“Yes. So much, all the time. More than anything else we saw. Just — tiny snippets, here and there; your face when you sleep, your fingers on a bow, you dragging me on a surfboard and a million other places I woulda followed you to anyway.”

One of his hands slides down Lance’s ribs, fingertips light enough to make him shudder, and rests, cupped open at his hip. “I saw this,” he admits. “Not — the whole conversation, or why, but my hands on you, in this bed, in the moonlight. It kept me going.”

Lance closes his eyes and tries to imagine. Stuck in a strange place where days don’t seem to pass with a stranger who claims to be his mother, watching visions of himself in the future, over and over again.

“No wonder your head was all wonky.”

“Yeah.”

“You’d already been with me. For two years.”

“For twenty. Thirty. Seventy.”

“…That’s a long time, Keith.”

“God, I hope so.”

Lance smiles. “You gonna stick with me that long, hotshot?”

“Like glue, darlin’.”

Lance looks up and, sure enough, Keith’s eyes are closed, face slack. He’s clinging onto consciousness with every bit of strength in his body, things like keeping his accent in check losing priority. Lance settles again against him, guiding them gently so they lie comfortably against the pillows, and breathes out, slow and long.

“Tell me about our future.”

“House on th’beach,” Keith murmurs. His words are slow and pulled apart. “Stone’s throw from your mama’s.”

Lance traces sleepy circles on his skin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Little boy with hair like yours followin’ every little thing you do.”

His breath hitches. He hadn’t thought about that — hadn’t let himself think about it. It’s dangerous, for more than one reason.

But tonight they’re safe. Under the silvery moonlight, with a bed three times bigger than they are, nothing can touch them.

“What about a little girl with your smile?”

“You got it.”

Lance’s smile is warm and giddy, tucked into Keith’s arm, etched there like it’s permanent. “Good. Goodnight, mi alma.”

“Night, baby.”

This is how it stays, forever and ever and always.

[megalony]

Buck Jr

This is an Evan Buckley (Buck) request from anon, thank you for this I had so much fun with this. All the requests have been great, any other 911 requests would be great.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: When the team get called out to a car crash pile up on the motorway, they find Buck and his heavily pregnant wife in the middle of the crash.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Just one more month left," Evan glanced his eyes away from the red light ahead of him and over to (Y/n) perched in the passenger seat.

Despite the calmness in his voice, (Y/n) could see the way he was almost bubbling over with anticipation just thinking about it. She could see the way his hands gripped the steering wheel that little bit tighter and he couldn't help but bounce in his seat like a child waiting for Christmas to arrive.

There was only just over five weeks left and then Evan would be able to meet his baby. He couldn't wait; time seemed to have dragged out and gone so slow since they found out they were expecting and he was ready to have his baby in his arms now. Evan loved how his wife looked while she was pregnant, but despite how good and appealing she looked to him, his arms were craving to hold his baby and he was so pumped and ready to be a dad.

"So, where are you putting this picture, baby?" (Y/n) looked down at the photos in her hands before she glanced over at Evan again just as the lights turned green.

During the pregnancy, Evan had made sure he was at each and every appointment (Y/n) had. One time he got the team to drop him off in the truck, all dressed in his uniform just so he could be there to hold (Y/n)'s hand and see his baby on screen.

And each time they had gone to a scan, Evan had collected all the photos and displayed them in various places. He had one in his locker at the station, one on the fridge at home and another one in his wallet. He didn't have much more room to fit another photo in and (Y/n) dared not think what he would be like once their baby was born and he had actual photos of them. There would be a mess of pictures flying everywhere.

"I don't know, I'll find some room in my wallet I think."

(Y/n) nodded along and moved to put the pictures in her bag that rested between her feet. She had been staring at them for long enough, it was time to put them away before Evan reached out and snatched them from her. He was protective over the photos, he loved showing them off but begrudged giving Maddie one for her fridge.

"What do you say we stop somewhere for dinner? I've got the whole day off after all." Evan reached his free hand out until his fingers could smooth over (Y/n)'s stomach. It was hard to keep his eyes on the road when all he wanted to do was sit and stare at his wife until the sun went down and the moon came up.

"Sounds lovely, baby."

He had been working a lot of shifts recently and the team had been great in swapping a few shifts around so he could be home with (Y/n) when she wasn't feeling well and when she had her appointments. Eddie had even covered one of his shifts in the early stages of (Y/n)'s pregnancy when she rang Evan at the station, crying and gasping that she had thrown up so much she passed out and felt too weak to move. Eddie covered for him so he could go home and take her to the hospital and then stay with her when she was admitted in for the night.

Evan was putting in more shifts to make up for the time off Bobby had already agreed to and secured off for him next month ready for the baby.

Going out for something to eat sounded like a good idea, they had been trying to do more things together recently before the baby arrives.

Evan couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips and he started to feather his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s stomach for a few moments until he finally let go to hold the wheel again.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) straightened up to click her spine into place before she reached across and turned up the volume on the radio. She had no idea where Evan had decided to go for dinner but she knew he had somewhere in mind when he switched into the outside lane and deliberately missed their turn off that would have taken them the short way home.

With a smile, (Y/n) rubbed her hand up and down Evan's thigh as she slouched back in her seat but her fingers tightened around his leg when she looked out the window and saw a car speeding past them in the inside lane. The dark rouge car flew ahead of them in the other lane but in a split second, the driver swerved across in front of them where there was barely any room to squeeze between Evan and the car in front.

"Fucking hell!"

Evan slammed his foot on the break but his left arm automatically reached out and planted across (Y/n)'s chest, pushing her back into the seat like an additional seatbelt when they both lurched forward.

He kept his arm pinned to her chest until he could release the break and they weren't in danger of crashing.

"Idiot! What the fuck was he doing?" He thrashed his fist on the horn before going back to gripping the steering wheel, ignoring the shaking that set in through his system. "You alright babe?" He didn't want to take his eyes away from the car in front but he had to sneak two then three glances at (Y/n) to calm his mind down and reassure himself she was alright.

(Y/n) kept one hand curled around the door handle and her other hand moved to her chest when it felt like her heart was about to break free of her ribs but she managed to nod her head and whisper a small 'okay'. She didn't want Evan to worry, he had to focus on the idiot in front of them in case he swerved into another lane or caused an accident.

Evan clicked the indicator and moved back into the other lane, he didn't want to be close to the other car.

But moving lanes didn't make a difference.

"You sure you're okay babe? I think I might-"

The horrid sound of metal clashing and colliding broke Evan's speech and he felt the steering wheel jutter beneath his fingertips when he slammed the breaks so fast and harsh that the tyres started to smoke. He couldn't keep the car going straight, as soon as he slowed down the wheels spun out and the car was turning just as they felt another car crashing into the back of them.

The speeding car in front had crashed into the middle barrier and backfired into the line of traffic and their car was next to collide into the growing pile.

A burning scream ricketed against (Y/n)'s throat and teeth and her eyes slammed closed. She could feel her body tensing and pulling inwards and she scraped her shoes down against the floor to try and steady herself and push back in the seat. Her hand tightened around the door handle and her free hand reached out to hold the dashboard when she heard Evan make a noise between a growl and a scream.

Her head collided with the window and the shock caused static to pound through her ears. Nothing but white noise filtered through (Y/n)'s head and she couldn't concentrate or feel anything but the way the car was shaking and how every muscle tensed to the point they were going to snap.

Evan's head thrashed between the steering wheel, the window and the headrest like a pinball and when he hit the wheel for a second time, he blacked out.

A choked cough bubbled past Evan's lips that made his lungs wheeze and burned the back of his throat.

What happened? Where was he? What was he doing?

The moment he opened his eyes, his head started to pound and ache like someone was hitting him with a hammer. All he could see was the black leather steering wheel and he realised it was smushed against the right side of his face. His neck burned when he lifted his head and slowly tilted himself back so he was sitting upright in the chair with his head lolled back on the headrest.

His right arm was tingling and his fingertips felt like they were turning numb and when he looked down, he realised his lower arm and wrist had been trapped between the side of the chair and the door that had been caved in.

"Oow, fuck…" He hissed gruffly as he slowly wrenched his arm free, earning a large scrape of skin to peel back and slowly trickle blood down to his fingers. But he could still bend his wrist and move his fingers, it didn't feel broken; thankfully.

He dared to move a hand over his chest, wincing and stiffening when he felt at least two broken ribs on the lower right side.

Evan let his head loll to the left but felt his heart rocket up into his throat and choke him when he remembered where he was and what he had been doing. They were going out. They were on their way back from a scan.

(Y/n) was with him.

Oh God, she was in the car with him.

A quiet sob bubbled past Evan's lips and he could feel tears burning up in his eyes when he looked at his wife.

"Babe… baby look at me," Evan flung the seatbelt off so harshly it snapped against the window and backfired against his shoulder but he paid it no mind. His eyes were trained on his wife. She was doubled over, arms bound around her waist and forehead leaned down on the dashboard but he knew she wasn't unconscious. He could see her subtly shaking and hear the little murmurs and groans leaving her lips.

Reaching out, he carefully slipped his hand between her forehead and the dashboard and with his other hand on her lower back, he tried to get her to sit up. He needed to look her over and see if she had any injuries.

"Evan…" (Y/n) reached her hand up to grab his wrist when his hand moved down from her forehead to cup her cheek.

"I'm here, I'm okay. Are you alright, let me look at you." Both his hands moved to skim over her frame and see if he could find any injuries.

He could see she had a gash on her forehead, much like the one he knew he had on his temple since he could feel the blood dripping across his brow. But he couldn't see any cuts or patches of blood seeping through her clothes which was a relief. There was no broken glass or jagged pieces of metal sticking out near her.

"My knee a-and my stomach hurt," (Y/n) didn't dare look Evan in the eye but she could feel the way his hands started to shake and hovered near her stomach. He was desperate to touch her but too afraid in case he hurt her or there was something wrong with the baby.

They had been thrown about in all directions, they were lucky the car hadn't turned upside down in the crash but Evan sure felt like he had gone too many rounds on the waltzers. He didn't dare think what it would be like for their baby or what could have happened to them.

"Okay, I… just try not to move,"

Evan desperately looked through the windshield and in the rar view mirror but there was nothing he could do. They were jammed in an increasing patch of cars and they would be backed up for miles in a matter of minutes. He couldn't get them out and they were on the motorway, he couldn't swerve into the next lane and get out and drive them back to the hospital.

But he could feel a small bubble of relief in his chest when he looked at the dash screen. His phone was connected up to the car and it was set up so that if he ever had a crash- just like this- his phone would alert the emergency services. He didn't have to dial 911, they would know already and he knew countless people would be ringing because there was a crash that was inconveniencing them and their day.

"The team will get us out babe, I promise. You just take deep breaths, I've got you until they get here."

His words settled down one of the thousands of (Y/n)'s petrified nerves and she inched forward so rest her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms curve around her waist and start to smooth up and down her back before he kissed the top of her head, keeping his lips there for a while to calm himself down.

They were both shaking and Evan could feel (Y/n)'s silent tears soaking into his shirt so he started to quietly shush her and hum into her hair to see if it would help calm her down. Panicking wouldn't do them any good.

Evan moved one hand to hold the back of (Y/n)'s head and he tilted his head to press his cheek into her hair which also allowed him to look out the broken windscreen. People were starting to get out their cars and move about, that was a good sign. Anyone relatively uninjured could get out and direct the emergency services to those more in need.

If Evan had been alone in the car he would have been out by now and scanning through the other cars to try and find anyone he could help and look after.

But he had (Y/n) with him.

There was no way Evan was getting out the car and leaving her in here alone when she was heavily pregnant and in shock. He wasn't budging an inch away from her. Today, he was off duty. He wasn't the emergency services, he wasn't a fireman helping rescue people, he was one of the civilians who needed help.

"Evan, it hurts." (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and smothered her face deeper into his shoulder as her hands came up to clench around his shirt.

It felt like her stomach was pulsing and throbbing and she didn't like it at all. She had never felt discomfort like this before and she knew she had been tossed around side to side when the car spun.

"I know baby," Moving his hand from (Y/n)'s hair, Evan slipped his aching arm between them and tried to apply pressure to different parts of her stomach. She wasn't whimpering or flinching like her stomach was tender and he could feel some sort of movement which had to be a good sign but other than that, he wasn't sure what he could do or interpret.

Evan flinched when (Y/n) cried into his shirt and she gripped his hand tight, moving his palm lower down to where the sudden burst of pain had come from.

"You're doing so good, just keep breathing through it and stay calm just for a bit longer baby." He leaned back a little to allow (Y/n) to fold over and bury her face in his legs instead, one hand gripping his thigh and the other holding her stomach as she went back to quiet whimpers. And Evan curled around her, kissing her head and smoothing his hands over her lower back as he started to cry too.

"Oh God, Evan… oow Evan!"

(Y/n) gripped Evan's thighs so tightly he could feel her nails pinching into his skin before he held her shoulders and pulled her back up so he could look at her. But when their eyes met, he saw utter fright hiding in her blown pupils and her hands moved to his biceps. Such a horrid howling noise left her lips that made Evan flinch and his jaw dropped but nothing came out. What had happened?

"What? Baby, what is it?"

"My waters… I- I think the baby's coming," (Y/n) moaned through her words and she could barely see her husband from the tears spilling down her face.

She watched his big doe eyes flip from her, down to her legs where a sudden gushing feeling had errupted all over the seat, and then back up to her eyes again.

"Fuck, fuck! Okay, uh… right." Leaning forward, Evan carefully moved (Y/n) back so she was leaning against the chair and he unbuckled her belt. Relief sweltered through him when he jammed his shoulder into his door and it swung open fairly easily. "I'm gonna look if anyone's arrived yet, then I'll move you into the back, okay?"

"Hm." (Y/n) nodded but she couldn't look at him any longer when another pain rippled through her. She tipped her chin down into her chest and breathed through clenched teeth.

Evan didn't like what he saw when he climbed out the car. At least six other cars were banged up and collided in front of them, including the red car that had cut him off earlier. And when he turned and pushed up on his toes to look behind his own car, another half a dozen cars had crashed and beyond them, everyone had come to a stand still.

The only good thing Evan could see was that there was a hard shoulder down his side of the road that was clear. The team and the ambulances could get down there and reach them without having to cut off the other side of the road or make a rounded approach. It was easy access to the crash site which was what he needed to get (Y/n) help.

He realised he had hurt his ankle when he rounded the front of the car and a red hot shooting pain creeped up the back of his left ankle. It wasn't broken, he knew that but it might be sprained or a muscle snapped, whatever it was he ignored it. (Y/n) was the only thing he could think about.

Nothing had hit the front passenger door which was a relief because Evan managed to open it with ease and he leaned back and opened the back door too. If she was going to have the baby here, depending on how long help took to arrive, he needed her in the back seat. It would be too hard to try and crouch down in the footwell and deliver his baby.

God, Evan might have to deliver his own baby!

"Alright baby, let's get you in the back."

Crouching down in front of her, Evan gently held her legs and turned her round until her feet were dangling down between his legs. He let her dig her fingertips into his shoulders when he secured his arms around her waist and slowly pulled her up, taking her weight when he felt her knees cave in immediately.

"I got you, you're okay," He reassured, speaking into her hair as he slowly started to shuffle away from the door and towards the back seat instead.

(Y/n) buried her face in Evan's shoulder and let him slowly ease her back until his hips brushed against hers and his legs were planted either side of her thighs, caging her beneath him. He lowered her down onto the back seat and effortlessly took her weight again to shuffle her further into the back.

She tried to tilt a little and leaned her back up against the seat, reaching across to brush her thumb against Evan's lower lip for a moment when he hovered over her to grab his jacket that he'd left there earlier.

"Alright babe, let's take a look at you. Good job I've done this with Cap before."

***

"Alright, you all know the drill. Major pile up in the middle of the freeway, if anyone can walk for help direct them to the paramedics. Shout out if you need to cut someone out the car, find anyone stuck and get them free. Chimney you're with me, Eddie go with Hen."

Bobby strapped on his helmet and nodded at his team but his eyes frowned when he looked over at Eddie.

They had parked up on the hard shoulder a few feet away from the crash since the ambulances needed to get round and them be closer to the scene so they could drive ahead and get out of the mess.

"Eddie, what's up?"

"Cap, the blue ford…" Something stirred in Eddie's chest and his fingers curled tighter around his helmet in his hand when he scanned his eyes over the mess. Right off to the right near the middle barrier was a navy blue ford that looked beat up and bashed about, but Eddie knew who drove a car exactly like that and he knew said person wasn't on shift today.

This was the direction away from the hospital where Eddie knew Buck had gone to this morning, he hadn't been able to talk about anything else except how excited he was to have a day off and be with (Y/n).

"What about it?"

"It's Buck!" Eddie dropped his helmet and set off into a sprint the moment he saw a familiar crop of sandy curls come into view when the tall figure stood up next to the car. It was Buck, he could tell it was him from a mile off. He was in the middle of the mess.

Eddie could hear Bobby shouting something through the throng of sirens and panicked cries but he didn't bother trying to make out what he said. And he knew Hen was following close behind him but he didn't slow down to wait for her. If Buck was here trapped in all this then that meant (Y/n) was here too. A pregnant woman in a car crash was never a good thing.

"Buck! Hey, Buck we're here mate! We're here." He waved his arm out to signal his arrival and shuffled the medic bag higher on his other shoulder when he got close and weaved through to Buck's car.

Something rattled in Eddie's chest when he watched Buck pull his shirt over his head and wipe it across his brow before he went back to kneel down in front of the open back seat. What the Hell was he doing? Was he injured- God, was (Y/n) injured? How long had they been here without help?

He barely reached the before Evan spun his upper body round and grabbed Eddie's wrist with what could only be described as desperation.

"The baby's coming!"

Evan was more relieved than he could say that he had been on a few callouts over the years and witnessed women giving birth. It meant he knew roughly what he was expecting and what he was supposed to do to help until someone could get them to the hospital.

He had laid his jacket out on the backseat but the baby was coming now and he had nothing but his shirt to take off so when the baby was here, he had something to wrap them up in and keep his newborn warm.

"Hen, (Y/n)'s in labour over here! Alright (Y/n), how you doing?" Eddie slung the medic bag onto the floor and knelt down beside Evan on the road but when Hen approached, (Y/n) shook her head.

"No one else! I- I don't want anyone else, please…"

"Okay baby, just me and Eddie that's okay." Evan turned to look over at Hen, apologies already burning in his eyes and forming on his tongue but she held her hands out and started moving towards the next car. Hen could understand (Y/n) not wanting a big scene, she wasn't comfortable in this situation and too many people surrounding her was only going to make her feel worse.

"We can handle this, can't we Buck? Did your waters break?"

"Yeah, and she's already started pushing," Evan rested his hand on (Y/n)'s knee when she didn't bother to respond. She couldn't find anything to say when another contraction hit, all she could do was cry and grit her teeth until they were grating down together.

"You work fast, eh?" With a smile, Eddie snapped on a pair of gloves but he stopped and waited when (Y/n) started to move. He could see she wasn't the least bit comfy or relaxed back here and it was understandable, but they didn't have time to move her when she was already so close and giving birth in a stationary car was preferable to a moving ambulance. "Any injuries we need to take care of?"

Pushing forward, (Y/n) wrapped her left arm around the back of the headrest and pulled herself forward so she was sitting up as much as she could, (Y/n) didn't want to slouch back any longer. She tucked her face into the headrest like she was trying to smother herself and with her free hand, (Y/n) reached down and pulled Evan's hand tight until she could hold it up against her chest.

Something close to a smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she felt him move and kiss her thigh.

"Y-your arm," (Y/n)'s voice was barely more than a whisper but when she cracked an eye open to look at her husband, he was shaking his head with pursed lips.

"It'll wait," Evan couldn't even feel his arm anymore. The skin was still loose and scraped back but it didn't matter, the adrenaline was so fast and consistent in his body that it numbed everything. His arm would be fine until they got to the hospital, he just wanted his baby in his arms and his wife to be alright.

"God, Evan please… fuck, can I push again?"

When (Y/n) tugged on his arm again, Evan got the hint and bypassed Eddie, climbing into the footwell that didn't fit his large frame very well. He leaned his weight onto his knees that pushed into the chair and curved his frame around (Y/n) so his chest was against her shoulder and he could kiss her temple. She kept tight hold of his hand that was still smothered against her chest so his arm was wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

"You keep pushing you're doing great, I can see the head already."

(Y/n) let her head fall back onto Evan's shoulder and she moved to kiss his neck and she had to hold back the urge to bite down and give him a dark bruise when the pain made her jaw clench. But Evan didn't even shiver or jolt against her when she screamed into his neck, he soaked up the sound and instead started to hum against her hair, letting her deadlock her fingers around his wrist that had gone numb a while back.

"…And the head's here," The smile that lit up Eddie's face made a knot in (Y/n)'s stomach slowly untangle. He didn't look panicked or overly concerned or like he was trying to take control of a bad situation, he was relaxing and it made (Y/n) feel more at ease.

She could feel Evan laughing into her hair, the feeling rumbled through his bare chest and vibrated through (Y/n)'s skin and he just had to lean forward to get a look.

"Another c…contraction,"

"Keep pushing baby, you're doing so great, I can't wait to have them in my arms."

Evan leaned forward when (Y/n) did the same and he kept his chest smothered against her back but he just couldn't resist from getting closer. He kept his left arm secured around (Y/n)'s lower waist but he reached his right hand down to see and touch the baby.

"Alright (Y/n) you're so close now, push again for me… Buck get ready." Eddie grabbed Buck's shirt that was laid in the footwell and nodded up at his friend to signal it was almost time.

(Y/n) tightened her left arm around the headrest to keep her weight up and moved her right hand to hold onto Evan's bicep, allowing him to lean around her because she knew what he was desperate for. He wanted to hold their baby the moment they were born and Eddie could see it too.

With a final scream and a blinding pain that sent spots dancing across her vision, (Y/n) slumped against the seat as Evan doubled over and stretched his arms out like he was reaching for the sun.

"Here he is! Buck Jr," Eddie laughed triumphantly, swaddling the baby boy in his dad's shirt before he slowly handed the bundle up to Evan who had tears trecking down his face.

Evan stayed doubled over with his abdomen resting on his knees and his arms outstretched towards Eddie. He didn't dare move an inch until Eddie had clamped and cut the cord, he couldn't pull back without it being cut unless he wanted to risk pulling on the placenta and harm (Y/n) in the process. But once the cord was safety cut off, Evan stretched back up and shakily tilted his boy around so he was laid on his bare chest.

He was a mix of soft blushing pink and the lightest shade of orange, covered in a protective layer of white fluid and droplets of blood, but he was perfect. It was mesmerising how Evan's large hand covered almost the whole spa of his boy's back when he patted to make sure he was crying properly and his airways were clear.

"God, he's beautiful." Turning to the side, Evan leaned over so (Y/n) could see their boy before he smothered her temple with his lips and felt her trembling hands rub over his jaw and neck.

"Cap, we have Buck Jr safely delivered, do you have an ambulance available?" Eddie spoke into his radio before he wrapped up the placenta and stood to his feet. They needed to get (Y/n) to the hospital to be checked over just to be safe and Buck needed patching up too.

"Well done guys! The second ambulance is all yours, Hen grab the stretcher."

"He's okay, isn't he?" (Y/n) dared to brush a trembling finger across the newborn's cheek but she couldn't help but worry. He had been bashed about a lot and forced into the world a bit earlier than planned. It was a miracle he didn't have the cord wrapped round his neck or some sort of trauma or shock from the abrupt crash.

"They'll check him over at the hospital but he seems just fine, he's a tough cookie. Come on Buck," Eddie flagged him out when he heard Hen approaching fast with a stretcher.

Evan slowly climbed out onto unsteady legs and he could feel his knees wobbling from the adrenaline high that was going to wear off soon. But when he looked between his baby boy and his wife, he slowly turned towards Eddie and carefully slipped the newborn back into his arms.

"I got you babe," He curved his arms beneath (Y/n)'s and shuffled her as carefully as he could to the edge of the seat before he looped his arm beneath her knees. He could feel Eddie hovering beside him and Hen close behind, just in case he wobbled or fell but he didn't need help. He'd picked (Y/n) up a thousand times and despite how many times she told him she was too heavy now she was pregnant, he could carry her like she weighed nothing more than a feather. Even in his rattled state, he could do this blindfolded.

Her arms curved around his neck and she kissed his neck when he carried her out of the car and over to the stretcher Hen had gotten ready for them.

When she was safely on the stretcher, Evan didn't need to say anything for Eddie to pass him back his son. Just the feel of his boy in his arms had Evan grinning like a fool and puffing his chest out like the proud dad he now was.

"Do we have a name for the little guy?"

"Didn't you hear Eddie? Buck Jr."

"Evan no!"

[alldevilsarehere90]

Title: It's all tears Pairing: Daryl x Reader Summary: ‘This ain’t working’ are not the ideal words to hear in regards to your fairly new relationship. Setting: Alexandria Genre: SFW, Angst, Fluff, Ever so slightly suggestive if you squint and close one eye, Drabble. Word Count: 800 A/n: This was just a cute little idea that I had to get down and wrote on the way to work.

“This ain’t working.”

You heard the words, you'd taken them in and now they just bounced around aimlessly inside your head, while your eyes stayed trained on the tiled floor of the kitchen. 

He continued talking but you couldn’t listen, you didn’t want to hear the excuses, so you focused on the only thing in front of you. 

The grouting could really do with a clean, you’ll have to get the mop out later and run it over the floor once everyone’s in bed. It’s shocking really, the amount of dirty boots that trek their way through this kitchen with no concern over who cleans it. Everyone is probably waiting for Carol to volunteer.

“Did ya hear me?” Daryl’s voice smashes through your attempt at ignoring the current conversation, causing you to forget all concern over the dirty floor.

You nod in response, hands wringing in your lap, unsure how to respond and unable to swallow the lump you feel thick and heavy in your throat.

As far as you were concerned, Daryl walked on water; he was the sun, the moon and the stars and all that lies in-between, he was your everything. To say that this shocked you was an understatement, you simply had not seen this coming. You had believed the feelings between you to be mutual but now, as you sit here repeating those words in your mind, you find a thousand memories rushing through your head, looking at them in a completely different light. 

Did you perhaps have the wrong idea this whole time? Did you read all his actions completely wrong just to give yourself false hope of something real between you.

“y/n,” he said into the thick silence. 

You fidget on the dining chair you sat in and clasp your hands together so tight your nails were leaving deep crescent moons in your skin, the pain gave you a distraction from the tears filling your eyes. “I-I thought that things between us, were-were going well, I-”

“Shit.” he mumbles, crossing the space from his place by the doorway and closing the distance between you. Slotting himself between your legs, his knuckle hooks under your chin and forces you to look up at him. An errand tear escapes and runs down your cheek, which he quickly wipes away with his thumb.

“Yer weren' listenin ta me?”

Frowning not understanding what he could mean, you repeated the words he’d said back to him. They sounded foreign coming out of you, knowing they would never leave your lips of their own accord.

“And wha 'bout after?”

You shook your head, a question in your gaze.

He squats down in front of you, his hand slides down to hold yours and big enough to contain them both, “I said, this ain’t working, I-I need ya ta come home ta me…every night,” he clears his throat, cheeks tinged pink, “I can’t sleep without ya next ta me no more.”

You felt like an idiot, how could you have assumed the negative so quickly after lecturing Daryl not to do exactly that. “What are you suggesting?” hope blossomed in your chest, knowing the words you wanted but praying to hear them from him.

Looking self consciously away from your gaze, his hold on your hands tighten. “Move in with me? In ma room, " his cheeks flush a deeper shade of red that you just want to lean over and kiss. "if yer want ta.”

Your chest erupts, heart thrumming a love song of its own as you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his neck. He wobbles under the sudden movement and his arm shoots round your waist at an attempt to steady you both. It fails however and knocks him off balance, sending him falling on his back and pulling you along with him. 

A burst of relieved laughter exits your body along with your breath as you slam into him, your chest flush to his. He laughs, watching your face and your giddy expression. 

“That a yes?” He asks, tucking hair behind your ear to stop it from concealing your face.

Nodding eagerly, his hand finds anchorage at the back of your neck and pulls you down to him, your mouth meeting in passionate exchange. You relish every moment of it, the softness of his lips, the way he tastes and the feel of him holding you so tight and secure. The reality hits that he is all yours, everyday and night; you can have this.

[vauxxy]

the sun ⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

ECLIPSE - PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO

luke castellan x child of dionysus reader

ABOUT - you come clean to luke over a bottle of wine as you stare at the sky.

A/N - part two!! this is written from the readers perspective this time :P might write the prologue sooner or later idk

WARNINGS - alcohol consumption, kissing, crying, swearing i think?? but idk i don’t remember

two hours later, and you and luke were staring at the lake as you sat together, the bottle of wine now half full.

the other few demigods that came along now were either swimming, or too drunk to stand, or talking amongst themselves.

you didn’t expect to be sitting with luke alone; nor did you expect the conversation to be so fun.

but then again, you didn’t care if the conversation was good or not. you wouldn’t even care if he was calling you names or simply ignoring you.

you had learnt that to love is to make sacrifices, and you had 4 years of first-hand experience.

the air was relaxed and easy, and the conversation was interesting. the fact that your rival was sitting right next to you, sharing a bottle of wine, felt surreal.

luke said something stupid and light hearted as you giggled quietly, taking another swig of the bottle. your breathing slowed down a bit as you turned to look at him.

“are you feeling tipsy yet, castellan?” you asked quietly, the moon hitting the side of your face in the most angelic way.

your hair was almost as bright as the starts at this point- your lips stained red due to the pigment of the wine and the irritation caused by drinking from the bottle.

“tipsy?” he scoffed, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. “even if i am, no way am i admitting it to you.”

the warm breeze blew through your hair, the moon’s light bouncing right off of it and illuminating the area. he stared at you as you sat next to him, your eyes wide open as you stared out at the lake.

you looked magical.

“you really are beautiful.”

your head turned to face him, your lips slightly parting in shock at the abrupt compliment.

‘luke castellan said i was beautiful?!’

you felt your breath hitch, your cheeks turning red- but you couldn’t tell if that was from the alcohol or from his compliment.

“yeah, you’re tipsy,” you whispered playfully in an attempt to brush off the comment.

you sighed, ruffling your hand through his hair before taking the bottle from him.

“shut up,” luke scoffed, looking away from you in embarrassment.

you laughed dryly, leaning your back against the grass and staring up at the stars.

“no, i wont shut up,” you argued, a big smile on your face.

“castellan said i was beautiful!” you exclaimed breathily, giggling quietly as you kicked your feet against the grass.

the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk for a moment. “i really hate you, you know that?” he laughed, taking another swig.

“besides, no one will believe you,” he teased, nudging you playfully.

you shook your head, pressing an index finger against your lip as you made a ‘shh’ sound.

“i’m not going to tell anyone. your words are gonna be my little secret,” you whispered, looking up at him as he continued drinking from the wine bottle.

even under the moonlight, he still shone like the sun.

‘i guess that’s why luke and i clashed. he was the sun, and i was the moon.’

“you’re going to drive me insane,” luke mumbled, passing you the bottle of wine.

was he blushing? his cheeks were certainly more red than before, and he couldn’t maintain eye contact with you anymore.

you retracted your finger from your lips, letting out a dry chuckle.

you sat back up, grasping the bottle of wine and taking a large swig.

“yeah, what do you expect? my dads the god of insanity, castellan,” you retorted playfully, a smug smile plastered across your face.

you were the moon and he was the sun- it was a simple yet poetic description of their long, complicated rivalry. maybe if you were a bit more sober, you could come up with a less stereotypical comparison. but you were not sober, so the moon and sun it was.

you were his rival, but it was starting to feel like something more. the banter between you two was becoming more romantic, the tension more evident. or maybe it was all just in your head.

luke chuckled as you took another big swig from the bottle of wine, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

it felt like everything you wanted for the past 4 years was finally happening.

you put down the bottle, looking out at the reflection of the moon twinkling on the lake as you took a deep breath in.

“do you ever see something and think ‘oh, that’s me’?” you asked, suddenly turning around to look at him.

luke was caught off guard by your sudden question, pursing his lips as he turned to look at you.

his brows faintly rose as he watched the moonlight gleam off of your eyes, hair, and lips. “what do you mean?” he asked softly. luke’s eyes darted to yours briefly, only to go back to looking at the moonlight as it hit the lake.

you looked back over at the moon, feeling a strange sense of comfort overcome your being.

“it’s like… i’m the moon. i am her,” you said.

“but i’m also the arctic fox, and the glow in the dark star stickers castor stuck on the roof of the dionysus cabin, and the tulips and the lily of the valley and- it’s like…” you mumbled, pressing your fingers against your lips as you let yourself get lost in thought.

“like i’m made of all these little things i see and feel close to.”

luke’s eyes burnt into yours as you spoke, taking in ever word you uttered. you would’ve forgotten he was even there if it weren’t for the sound of him breathing.

“and what am I?” he finally spoke, his voice soft as he leaned forward to look more closely at you. the moonlight casted a glow on your face as the breeze blew your hair away from your eyes. it felt so natural to be here with him, in the dark, with the moon.

you smiled at him coyly, your cheeks red and your vision a little warped from the alcohol. you took another swig, thinking over his question.

you passed him the bottle, your fingers grazing against his momentarily as you stared at his face intently.

“you’re the dandelions. you’re the orange slices, the quiet dog sitting by the window,” i said quietly, taking in his features.

“you’re the sun.”

he paused. it looked like he had just been punched in the gut, overwhelmed by the sudden sentiment.

luke looked away suddenly, blinking quickly as his jaw clenched tight. he took one deep breath, and turned to look at you again.

“that’s bullshit, and you know it,” he snorted. it seemed like the alcohol had made him a little too confident. you furrowed you brows in response, crossing his arms as you waited for an explanation.

how could he not look in the mirror and be blinded by the sight of himself?

“look at me. i’m no sun. i’ve got all these scars and bruises all over me, i’m too destructive.”

he rolled his eyes, looking down at the grass defeatedly.

you shrugged your shoulders, taking another swig of the bottle.

“yeah, but you’re the sun,” you repeat blankly, a soft smile still on your face.

“you’re the sun; scars and all. too hot too touch, too bright to ignore.”

luke froze at your words.

he shifted uncomfortably as he felt his hands shake. your eyes took in his stressed appearance, feeling a little embarrassed at your sudden outburst of praise.

luke was embarrassed by how much his body was betraying him. for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to say whatever witty response would get under your skin. he was completely at a loss for words- and you could tell.

but either way, you decided to play nice.

you paused, staying completely silent. suddenly, you started giggling, shaking your head awkwardly in an effort to make him feel less uncomfortable.

“sorry about that. i just realised how stupid that sounded,” you chuckled, looking back over at the moon.

luke looked a mess. his cheeks burned red, and his heart pounded faster and faster.

“shut up,” he growled. “you’re going to make me act weird.”

you turned your head away from the moon to look back over at him, your eyes narrowing in confusion.

“huh?” you furrowed your brows, taking the last sip from the bottle.

“you already act weird,” you teased, gently pushing his shoulder playfully.

you playful push and the feel of you touching him suddenly made any rational thoughts of his go completely out the window.

“okay, but this is different,” he grumbled, leaning his back against the cold earth and closing his eyes, his breath even and steady. “you’re making this weird.”

you pouted, laying down on the ground next to him. your head was inches away from his, your hair grazing his face as it messily fell over the grass.

his face turned towards yours as you stared up at the stars, thinking over his statement.

“how?” you asked, your speech a little slurred.

“just…” he sighed, looking up at the sky. “it’s not that complicated. i’m your rival. we’re not meant to be…like this.”

luke paused, looking back over at you for a second. he thought you looked so pretty with the moonlight casting beams of light on your face. he could’ve looked at you like this for hours.

you rolled your eyes, staring up at the sky.

“are we even rivals anymore?” you asked, resting your hands on top of your tummy.

“i mean, we used to be when we we like… 15. but we’re 18 now, and things are definitely different. less hostile,” you said, breathing quietly.

“fine, we’re not as vicious as we used to be. but it’s still a rivalry. you’re too competitive.”

you stayed quiet, processing his words.

he was right. you were too competitive.

that’s why it would never work between you and him- but it was also why it did work.

your stubbornness and his attitude fuelled the ongoing rivalry between you two for years, the only thing that ever weakened the conflict was time.

time wore you two down as you matured, replacing foul insults with witty comebacks and substituting sarcastic compliments with genuine praise.

but it was still a rivalry.

he leaned towards you suddenly, opting to change the subject with a teasing comment. he lightly tapped your forehead. “you’re drunk.”

you giggled, rolling your eyes as you playfully pushed his hand away.

“no, you’re drunk- look!” you abruptly cut yourself off, gasping at the sky.

“it’s the little dipper,” you exclaimed breathily.

it had been years since you had seen the constellation; considering camp half-blood was only protected from new yorks monsters, and not new york’s light pollution.

luke glanced up at the sky, blinking as he saw the constellation.

“yeah,” he grinned as he looked back down at you. “i’m just surprised you can tell in this state of mind.”

luke chuckled as he looked into your eyes. they had a dull shine to them- they looked tired. his lips twitched into a playful smirk as you shrugged your shoulders.

you smiled softly as you turned your head to look at him- a few stray pieces of grass in your hair.

“maybe it’s ’cause when i drink i get all observant and shit,” you said simply.

your eyes darted over to scar on the right side of his face. it had been there for years, but you never seemed to get tired of looking at it.

it was like a river- or a permanent teardrop stain. and it was gorgeous.

luke watched you with a smug grin as you stared at his scar, noticing how much you seemed to adore the sight.

“yeah,” he smirked. “you get so observant that you start talking about me being like the sun.”

you rolled your eyes, letting out a dry breath as you looked into his eyes.

“you’re not like the sun, you are the sun.”

you slowly reached your hand out to touch his scar, your thumb tracing over the shape as your lips slightly parted.

you definitely would’ve never done something like this sober.

he didn’t fight against the warm gesture, his cheeks turning red as his brown eyes widened at the sensation. your touch was soft, and his skin was so smooth.

maybe he loved you back? maybe all that sacrifice and competition wasn’t for nothing?

the desire to come clean was suffocating you. you needed to say it- he needed to know.

you cupped his face in your hands, the alcohol putting you in a trance.

‘sober me is gonna really regret inviting luke to drink with her.’

you continued rubbing your thumb over his scar, looking into his eyes.

“luke,” you whispered, getting lost in his features as you laid still on the grass.

“i’ve loved you since we were 15.”

he was dumbfounded by her sudden confession. your heart continued pounding so loudly that you could no longer hear the quiet sound of his own heartbeat.

“… you don’t have to say anything,” you said softly, continuing to stare into his eyes.

“but i just wanted you to know.”

you slowly retracted your hand from his cheek, turning over to lay on your back again and stare at the stars.

luke stared at you blankly, his lips parted in shock as he realised what you said.

the silence was killing you, forcing you to come to terms with the reality of the situation.

he was quiet for a reason, wasn’t he?

“you don’t love me,” he said softly. “you’re drunk.”

you shook your head, your eyes fluttering closed as a soft smile emerged from your features.

“no, i do love you,” you whispered, reaffirming the drunken confession.

his hands gripped his arms tightly, trying not to let you see how much your words were shaking him up.

“if you love me so much, then why do you constantly challenge and compete with me?”

you shrugged your shoulders at his question, opening your eyes and looking back over at him.

“it’s the only was i can get your attention, i guess.”

you and luke had always competed with each other- it was no wonder the competitiveness evolved into a rivalry. you just wanted his attention, and he wanted yours. you both wanted to so desperately be seen by the other, and neither of you would admit it.

a deep sigh left his lips as he thought, closing his eyes to try and make sense of things.

“well, you’ve got my attention now,” he murmured.

you laughed dryly at his comment.

“yeah. i do,” you sighed, your chest rising and falling with each slow breath you took.

‘he doesn’t love you, idiot! why’d you have to say that? now he’s not gonna give you any attention, because it’s gonna be awkward!’

“anyways,” you mumbled, looking back up at the sky. he pursed his lips as he watched you, furrowing his brows at the sight of his rival all defeated and wistful.

“why won’t you look at me?” luke’s voice was soft, pleading; begging you to see him.

you sighed, continuing to stare up at the sky defiantly.

“i already know what you look like. spent so long staring at your face, i don’t need to look at you,” you explained breathily, letting your head sink further back against the grass.

“… and i don’t think i want to see how you look right now. i’d like to imagine you all happy instead.”

his eyes widened and his jaw unclenched at her words. you were content with staring at the stars, not even acknowledging what he said.

“please, look at me. look at me when you speak to me.”

his words were firm, but emphatic enough to cause you to give in.

you rolled your eyes, letting out a quiet sigh before turning to face him.

“i’m looking.”

luke stared into your eyes, his body frozen as he watched your breath rise and fall. it seemed like he had no clue what to say.

you sighed, your eyes gazing over at his features.

seconds passed that felt like hours, your thoughts racing as you lost yourself in his pretty eyes.

‘you’ve fucked it. it’s ruined. it’s done!’

‘gods, i’m never drinking again. sorry dad.’

you suddenly closed your eyes, letting your hands cover your face as you turned on your side- bringing your legs up to your chest as you let your hair protect yourself from everything that was going on.

you suddenly let out a quiet sniffle, muffled by the way you were hiding yourself in your limbs.

luke’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the sight, his thoughts blanking as he heard you… crying?

he had never seen you cry before, unless you were acting with the apollo kids, or trying to garner sympathy, or foolishly trying to make your dad feel bad for yelling at you for sneaking out.

your palms became a little wet as you cried softly, trying your best to fight back against your emotions.

“sorry, i don’t know why i’m crying,” you whispered.

“i don’t know what i expected either.”

you quickly wiped away your tears, looking back up at him. “pretend i didn’t say anything,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse.

you heard luke sit up and scoot over to you. suddenly, you felt him gently wipe his fingers under your eyes.

“your eyes are a little red,” he murmured, letting his fingers trail down your cheeks.

you groaned in response, your cheeks turning red as he wiped away your tears.

“obviously,” you sighed, choking back more tears as you closed your eyes again.

your nose was red and damp, your eyes bloodshot. your breaths were short and sharp as you continued fighting your feelings. but it was a loosing battle.

luke let his fingers trail your jaw, then your neck. this only caused your to cry harder, the feeling of his fingers against your skin only reminding you of what you do desperately want but can’t have.

“luke…” you whimpered, opening your eyes to look back up at him.

“shh…calm down,” he said softly, his fingers beginning to trail her lips. luke’s breathing became erratic as he leaned in, closing his eyes and grazing his lips against yours.

he suddenly pressed his lips forcefully against yours, his arms wrapped around you as he held you close against his chest. your back lifted off the grass, willingly leaning your chest against his as you kissed him back.

you could hear the sound of his breath picking up as he deepened the kiss.

you brought your hand up to cradle the back of his neck, holding a handful of his hair between your fingers.

your fingers twisted into your hair, his mouth becoming more demanding with love and need and longing, and everything else he’d felt towards you.

your other hand reached up to caress his scar, running your thumb over the permanent imperfection.

but it wasn’t imperfect; it was beautiful.

your breathing slowed down as your tears became silent, your body melting into his as the kiss continued.

he slowly dragged his lips away from yours, kissing the side of your neck as he held his hands against your back to keep your torso upright.

you sniffled as he kissed your neck, your arm wrapping around him as you held him close.

he finally pulled away, taking a deep breath and looking at your flushed features. you were still holding onto him tightly, your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

your eyes were still closed as a tear slid down your cheeks. luke wiped it away gently, causing you to slowly open your eyes again.

“luke,” you whispered, your eyes silently pleading with him as your pupils dilated.

“please, luke. i need to hear you say it.”

luke paused, letting the request linger in the air for a bit. his breath hitched as he looked into your red and wet eyes, his thumb gently tracing your cheek.

"say what?" he whispered, their eyes locked as they sat there in the grass. he was shaking, and you could tell.

“tell me you love me too. even if it’s a lie,” you whispered, gently running your hand through his hair as you looked into his eyes.

his lips touched yours again, quickly kissing you before slowly pulling away.

“I need you. I will always need you,” luke said- but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

your breath hitched, your eyes threatening to cause a flood.

“… but do you *love* me?” you asked, your lips slightly parted as you searched for any sign of affection or love within his deep brown eyes.

his breath came out of his lungs harshly as his eyes widened. he stayed silent for a moment as he looked at you.

“yes,” he whispered. “i do.”

“say it,” you demanded, sniffling as you rested your forehead against his.

“say it. say it, please,” you begged him, your hands clinging to his shirt in a desperate attempt to convince him to love you back. “say that you love me- all of it.”

he smiled softly before leaning in towards you, the action of you pulling on hos shirt revealing his collarbones.

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

luke’s hands gently gripped your waist as he spoke, his eyes locked with yours.

you turned red, your breathy shaky as you pulled him in for an urgent kiss. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer than before.

‘jesus christ, if my dad saw me now…’

actually, he might be proud. dionysus is the god of wine, insanity and fertility first and foremost. and hes my dad more than he is the camp director.

luke kissed you back, pressing his body against yours and letting his hands slide to grasp onto your hips.

you ran your hand through his hair, your fingers racing circles into his neck as you kissed him frantically.

your lips were probably swollen at this point, and you didn’t mind paying the consequences for having luke be so close to you.

luke’s hands glided up your body, his fingers grazing over your skin. his hand went to hold your back, pulling you even tighter against him.

he kissed you harder, more intensely, his mouth devouring yours.

you could hear his breath hitch with every kiss.

you moaned softly into the mouth, your limbs tangling as you searched for more. more of the feeling of his body against yours, more of the warmth of his hands against your skin. more, more, more.

you continued kissing him for what felt like hours, before slowly pulling away- now a panting mess with red cheeks and swollen lips. you stared into his eyes, your lips slightly parted in shock.

and he did that to you. he stared down at your lips, almost as if he felt proud of what he had done.

your swollen and red lips were like a trophy. you had won- he loves you.

luke licked his lips, savouring the taste of you before speaking. “gods, your lips are red,” he said, kissing your cheeks.

you laughed nervously, overly flustered by how softly he was kissing your cheeks.

“shut up, so are yours,” you retorted, wiping your mouth- but the red was imprinted upon your lips and it most definitely was not coming off anytime soon.

luke couldn’t help but find himself laughing at your mannerisms. the way you nervously wiped your lips as if the redness would come off with a single swipe of your fingers.

you sat in silence for a moment, simply staring into his eyes with a bashful smile. you had him. he had you.

and he was so bright.

even when sitting under the dark night sky, the sun was shining- burning your skin. and you were basking in it.

you’d let yourself get their degree burns if it meant you got to feel the sun against your skin.

[trancylovecraft]

So, I just met you today with the Cherry Blossom Kokushibo fic and, you know, I just fell in love with your writing

I've had this idea in my mind for a while and when I read your fanfic I just knew you were the perfect person to put it into words

May I request an Oneshot with Muzan Kibutsuji/Fem reader? So, I've imagined for a while a fanfic where Muzan encounters a female reader who suffers from albinism, having very pale skin, white hair and natural red eyes. Because she was born like that, people rumored her to be a demon (sensibility to sunlight and red eyes aggravated that), and that caused her to be isolated from all and unable to wed. She is from a noble family and that is why she's still alive, but that doesn't soothe the wound since her family treats her like an outcast.

Bitter with resentment, under the moonlight of the bedroom, she curses all of those who waste their health living mundane lives while she suffers in loneliness. Her nihilism, indifference and hate makes her unafraid of Muzan as, if she thinks he will devour her, she asks for him to at least kill her family too. Little does she know that Kibutsuji already knows her, and he is infatuated with her. (If he wants to wed her and turn her into a demon she ain't complaining, especially if their engagement is celebrated with a bit of family massacre)

This idea was inspired by spider lillies, moonlight and the fact that I'd like to imagine Muzan with someone who resembles him when he was a human (Narcisistic King would only date those who remind him of himself)

I apologise if this request is too long for your liking, I am not very good with words and simplifying something I am excited about!

- the banana split jane doe

(KNY) YANDERE MUZAN x ALBINO READER: The Light Side of the Moon

(DW, I gotchu girlie. Hope you enjoy this one!)

The sun's rays shone down onto the overgrown field.

The rays seemed to reflect off of every grass strand and every drop of dew fell from the rain the night before.

It was a beautiful day despite the heavy rain last night, So much so that in the early hours of the morning the village kids had left early to run around in the grass and play dirty. Of course they would, It was getting into the colder months as indicated by the chilling breeze running through the valley. The children had to make use of every wake of sunlight before the snow came in.

So out in the field there was a good group of kids in the dozens play fighting and playing tag, Not giving mind to the dirtying of their kimono's and haori's. Their laughter rang out and bounced around like they were in a cave.

"Stupid.." [F/N] muttered, A bitter resentment lacing her voice like venom as she looked out at all the kids running wild in the valley.

She sat perched under the big zelkova tree overlooking the entire valley. It's branches were large and it's leaves were enough in number to filter out any sunlight passing through it, A perfect condition for the girl.

[F/N] sat right up against the tree for support as she brushed her hair with her fingers. Her locks were pure white, So was her skin. It wasn't like the kids who had pale skin nor was her hair light like the occasional person with a story, But instead something much more extreme.

When [F/N] was born she was diagnosed with albinism. According to the doctor who delivered her, Her mother had screamed in disgust at the sight of her while her father had demanded to know who she cheated on him with.

Her father wanted to kill her, He couldn't stand to look at such a horrid child. He wanted to throw her out into the river and hope nature took its course, However, He was fortunately stopped by the mere fact that they were noble blood and had already told the village-people the birth was successful. Killing her now would only severely damage reputation. Therefore letting her live.

From that day forward she was considered bad luck.

The local folklore was that albinism was a curse from an ancestor to atone for wrongdoings done in their time. It was an omen of death, Also known as: Something to avoid.

And the locals took it to heart. Every time [F/N] would walk down the street, Every time she'd go out to the market she'd get stares, Heckled and harassed her when she walked. Suddenly the prices at the market would go up, Just for her.

It didn't help that the consequences that came with the defect definetly made it seem like a curse. Due to the complete lack of melanin anywhere the sun scorched her skin like fire, Leaving her needing to take special precaution when leaving the house. Her eyesight wasn't the best either, Though it was much better than the normal person with albinism she still did have trouble seeing at times.

The past two months didn't help her case either, With the recent mutilations of the-

A rock slammed into the side of [F/N]'s head, Making her double over onto the grass. The sound of a couple children cheering rang out from down the hill. She hissed in pain.

"Take that, Demon!" One of the boys said, Having been the one who threw the rock. [F/N] clutched the side of her head where the impact hit. She could feel the early gathering of blood start to stain her pristine kept hair.

"The fuck is wrong with you?!" [F/N] screamed.

Pushing her body back up to look at the group of kids with an absolutely furious expression. The kids stood strong however, Only taking a few meek steps towards her.

"Leave our families alone!" Another one shouted, A girl this time. Her face was angry too, Only as much as a young child's could look. The other kids who weren't involved in the group stopped playing to watch the scene.

The mutilations, Of course. They started around two months ago with the Furukawa family. It was awful, One of their elderly neighbours had picked up a rotten smell and had asked her son to go check on them. Of course they came across both the mother and the father's pieces spread across the Livingroom.

[F/N] was familiar with the two, They had often been one of the more outspoken village people about their dislike of her and a few days before had shoved her aside while she was walking around.

She knew she should of shown some kind of emotion at the news of their slaughter, But to be honest, [F/N] didn't care. If anything, She felt a small tinge of relief.

They weren't there to harass her anymore, Or make off-hand remarks. For that she was glad.

"I never touched your stupid families!" [F/N] yelled back at her. Her deep vermillion eyes were filled with disgust like she was staring down an insect she could crush under the sole of her sandals.

"Liar!" Another one of the kids stepped out from behind the small group. He wasn't one of the bigger ones, He was in fact rather scrawny with unkempt hair. But [F/N] recognised him as the Furukawa's youngest kid.

"M-My parents died because of you.." He muttered, Looking down at his shoes unable to meet [F/N]'s eyes. His hands clenched into a determined fist, His body shook with vigour.

"They were great people! You had no right to take them away from me. Just because the other adults don't see you as the demon you are doesn't mean we don't!" He yelled back at her. The other kids joined in with supportive remarks following his speech.

"One day, When I get older I'll get revenge for them. I'll get re-" A rock slammed straight into his open jaw.

The kid screamed and fell to the floor with a loud thud!

The other kids yelped and backed away from the boy, Who was coughing up teeth and blood. He writhed around on the ground groaning in pain.

[F/N] was standing up now. She had picked up the rock that was thrown at her and flung it right back at the kid. She stood there seething in a fighting stance.

"Demon? I'll show you demon!" [F/N] yelled. She swiftly grabbed another rock and hurled it straight at the girl who chose to speak out, Hitting her straight on the forehead with a sick crunch.

The previously silent kids amplified into an uproar.

Screaming echoed around in the valley as all the kids tried to get away from the ensuing fight. [F/N] kept picking up rocks from the small hill and hurling them at the group. The kids who started the fight tried to haul away the two kids who got the worst of it, Picking them up by the arms trying to drag them away from the attacks.

"DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN OR IT'LL BE YOU NEXT! I SWEAR TO THE GODS IT'LL BE YOU!" [F/N] screamed, Her voice hitting high's that could be heard from the village.

The kids had gotten a good distance away from her now but that didn't stop [F/N] from throwing more stones.

"YOU HEAR ME?! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!" She yelled after them, Raising another rock to throw.

But by the time she had finished they had all scampered away back home.

She was left standing on top of the hill, Under the shade of the big zelkova tree, Looking out over the now empty and desolate field which had such a lively energy before but now was cold and lost.

She was panting, Letting out heavy breaths of air that turned into mist in the cold climate. The rock in her hand she was about to throw lowered, Dropping it to the ground. She exhaled for a final time, Letting all the anger and rage dissolve into mild annoyance she finally relaxed.

"Dumb kids.." She huffed. Shaking her head she leaned down to pick up the thick birch handle of her parasol.

Grabbing it she extended the blue patterned canopy, Making sure it covered her form she dusted herself off. Settling the parasol handle on her shoulder she set off out into the valley, Dreading her walk back home.

☆♡☆

"That was a horrible thing you did"

[F/N]'s mother stood a few feet away from her, Circling around her like a predator yet keeping a good enough distance to test the acidic waters. [F/N] felt her teeth grind against each other and her palms get sweaty.

Of course, The kids from earlier had ran back to her house to snitch on her to her mother. Well, Not the kids but the parents of the girl and the eldest brother of the Furukawa family being rightfully angry.

[F/N] was made aware of this when she came home at the first sign of the sun setting. Her mother was perched on the large porch of their family home waiting for [F/N]'s arrival, From the first time [F/N] spotted her mother she could of mistaken smoke from coming out of her ears.

It was frustrating, While she figured her mother would find out eventually it didn't take anything away from the experience. Though, She supposed she was lucky.

Her father being a noble and very highly profiled swordsman meant he was disciplined, And it also meant he expected that from all his children. Luckily enough though he was out on a very long business trip. If he was here, [F/N] knew that she'd get more than a serious lecture.

"So what? They attacked me first, It's only karma what they got" [F/N] responded, Her voice trying to stay levelled and calm yet shook at the seams. Her mother scoffed at that.

"They're just kids, [F/N]! They don't know any better and you should have taken that into account" Her mother exclaimed incredulously, Taking a few prompted steps up towards her daughter with purpose.

"Well maybe they'd know better if they're parents were still around to teach them better, Not that its my fault like they think though, Right?" [F/N] spat, Her voice venomous and the sheer disregard for the weight of her words went through her mother like a static shock.

"How fucking dare you.." Her mother whispered, Her voice full of disbelief at her daughters words leaving her jaw agape and eyes wide.

"Well I mean, The parents were already shitty people to begin with so I suppose that whoever ripped them apart did the kids a favour-"

SLAP!

[F/N]'s monologue was cut short by the hand connecting hard to the side of her cheek. [F/N] yelped out and stumbled back trying to catch her balance.

The hit had landed roughly at the side leaving only a single burst of a painful red on her monochromatic get-up.

"Your ideology is absolutely disgusting, How bloody dare you speak about the dead like that? You don't have any right to say that about anyone, Young lady!" Her mother yelled at her, Only about a foot away from her face.

[F/N] blinked away the tears from the pain and instantly snapped back.

"I'm saying what nobody else has the guts to! Just because you're all cowards and ignorant bastards doesn't mean you get to take it out on me!" [F/N] screamed back at her mother, Getting up into her face.

"You kee-"

While speaking, Her mothers hand shot out to grab [F/N]'s shoulder but her wrist was snatched by the younger girl, Who held it with an iron grip cutting off the older woman's speech.

"Don't you dare lay another hand on me.." [F/N] hissed. Her face seemed to be etched with a wild kind of rage like a feral dog, The single action of her mother making the anger so clear to anyone who could see.

Her mother, Being a much older woman than her daughter had much more brittle bones. The grip on her wrist being sore and painful on her old skin as she tried to pull away from her daughters grasp.

Realising what she was doing [F/N] let go of her mother, Who staggered a good few feet back from her assailant.

[F/N] mumbled a small yet sour apology and marched off towards the door out of the main Livingroom.

As she opened the sliding door and stepped out she heard her mother call out back to her.

"Y-You go up to your room and stay there, Young lady. Only come down once your ready to apologise!" She heard her mothers weak voice call out to her as she shut the door.

"I know!" [F/N] replied without looking back at her.

The door finally closed to leave her in the dim hallway, The only light shone from behind the Livingroom door leaving the entire hallway almost impossible to see in. [F/N] stood still behind the door, Making no move to head to her room. She looked down at her feet to contemplate her situation.

"Really? Hitting our mother? You've reached a new kind of low, Haven't you [F/N]?" A voice called out a little way down the hall.

[F/N] jerked her head up to the source of the voice and groaned.

Her younger brother, Juro, Stood at the end of the hall seemingly just came down the stairs. His head was held high and the usual smug grin lay planted on his face as always, He had his arms folded across his chest and his entire figure radiated false superiority.

[F/N] was the oldest of the five children her parents had conceived. Juro was the second oldest by only about five years apart in birth. [F/N] supposed that the reason they had such a big gap in age was due to the looming fear of their parents producing another demon child.

Though when they did give birth to Juro and found out he was a regular child compared to their monster of an eldest, [F/N] knew how much he'd be absolutely spoiled rotten, Which matched his personality like a pair of gloves.

It gave him a rather annoying superiority complex, With all the spoiling and being the one destined to become the head of their families clan and wealth you could probably see how it got to his head.

However it didn't stop [F/N] from being distasteful in behaviour towards him, The nasty expression on her face evident of that.

"Oh get off my case, Like you really give a damn." [F/N] scoffed, Straightening out her back to reach her full height.

"Of course I 'give a damn'. It's our mother and one of the figure heads of this clan, You really should be more respectful to your elders. Why mother keeps you around elludes me" Juro replied, Making sure to drawl out every condesending syllable to its full potential.

[F/N] knew exactly why her mother and father kept her around: They couldn't get rid of her. Their original plan was to marry her off, It didn't matter if it was to a nobleman or a commoner to them. The only thing that did was getting her to leave.

Though it imploded on itself when they realised no one would take her, Both her attitude and her looks were a big enough deterrent. Great for her but bad for her parents.

"Ah, Right. Because she shows such an amazing amount of respect towards me, I honestly feel so awful about it" [F/N] gasped, Sarcasm dripped from every word and fell like acid making Juro's eyebrow twitch.

He moved forward a few steps, Sizing her up as he went.

"Well the difference is that mother has a reason to not respect you, I mean come on, It's obvious. Maybe if you do treat her with the right attitude then maybe she might start seeing you in a different way" Juro said the last part as if he was trying to contain laughter, Like he had just heard the most offensive joke in the world he just couldn't laugh at.

[F/N] felt her fists clench and tighten to bare her knuckles.

"But with such sour attitude I do suppose it would be impossible for you, Wouldn't it? Dear sister?" Juro whispered as he got up into her face. Only a couple inches away from her now he carefully eyed her down, Waiting for one single move.

[F/N]'s teeth grinded, Her tightened palms grew sweaty and itched for the offensive attack. She wanted to punch him, She wanted to attack him and wipe that disgusting, Grimy smirk off of his arrogant little face.

However, [F/N] just sighed and let her fist drop loose into straightened palms. She knew what he was doing, She wasn't going to give into his taunt. She's had enough for tonight.

"Back off, Juro." [F/N] simply warned. Turning away from his expression now filled with annoyed disappointment she headed off towards the stairwell at the end off the hallway.

As she got up the steps she heard his smug voice call after her.

"Such a lovely chat with you as always!"

☆♡☆

The sound of childlike laughter resonated throughout the house, Despite the muffled sound of it [F/N] could hear the weight of it even from behind the thick walls of her room.

The pale moonlight of the night had illuminated the unlit room and flooded the area with a subtle glow, The silk blinds danced along with the soft breeze lifting into the room.

Her bedroom was situated at the very top of the large family home, The third floor. The massive house was large and sat at the edge of the village they lived in, Overlooking the entire town yet having enough distance to be considered a private property separate from the other houses.

The house was home to three floors in total. The first was the main area home to the kitchen, Livingroom and general activities such as a drawing room, Dining hall and her fathers very own training room.

The second was housing all of the bedrooms. All of her siblings, Parents and even the guest sleeping quarters were located there. It also even held a small room for their families servants.

And finally, The third was by far the loneliest of the trio.

It was much smaller compared to the other floors and was the newest built. It only housed a single hallway and [F/N]'s own separate bedroom which made up the majority of the floor.

Usually the prospect of having an entire floor to themselves would entice and excite anyone. The privacy and spacious area would seem like a blessing.

And yes, [F/N] agreed. It was a blessing alright. She was granted privacy from the struggle that was her family, It gave her time on her own to be herself.

But she also had to admit: It had it's downsides. Another laugh sounded out from downstairs on the first floor. The movements of the hairbrush on [F/N]'s light locks halted, Just for a moment as she listened to the joyous voice of her youngest sister.

They were having dinner, It seemed. [F/N] didn't apologise and had no intention to, So she was forced to reside in her room.

She continued to comb through her hair, Feeling the tug of the movements as she listened to the laughter down below cease.

[F/N] scoffed at it and tried to take her mind away and focus on the strokes of the brush. Though she couldn't help but trail off to the infuriating scenario happening downstairs.

Since her father was away her mother was probably the one to cook the food tonight, She always did instead of the family servants, Her own personal recipe of a Sukiyaki stew pot that she made to comfort her kids while their dad was away.

Her kids.

A mother is suppose to "love" her kids unconditionally, And in that aspect she certainly did, All except when it came to her. [F/N] knew her mother had tried at least, But it came off in the way you'd treat an unwelcomed guest. Trying to give due respect yet wanting them out of your house as soon as possible.

[F/N] had figured a long time ago that it was better to be treated with ire than pity and had given up all sense of courtesy towards her mother, Continuing to this day.

A faint tug pulled in her chest as another roar of laughter came up from downstairs, They seemed to be having a good time.

[F/N] finally set down her brush onto the vanity. The small sound of the wood hitting the desk seemed so much louder in the large area of her room.

[F/N] supposed she did need to give her mother some credit, She was the one to let her have the single room at the very top of the house (Even if it was to keep her away from the rest of her family)

But the room seemed so.. Empty.

[F/N] stared into the vanity mirror, The light surface of the glass reflecting her own pale visage back at her.

She trailed a hand across her features to examine for any blemishes, Pushing back any stray strands of hair from her face and pulling them behind her ear. Staring deep into the clear colour of her cardinal rose eyes she assessed their problems, And she found none.

When times like these came about [F/N] often pondered about why people didn't like her more. She was beautiful, Stunning, Exotic even to the disgusting drunk men that passed her by on the moonlit walks.

So why even if some drunkards could see her beauty why couldn't the locals and her own family see that too instead of the cursed child from a close-to-god family?

It couldn't be her attitude, That was just a by-product of their own treatment toward her. So why? She was born this way, She couldn't change how she looked, She should of been adored.

Yet all the locals, All of her beloved family, All of the suitors that her parents had tried to ship her off to had only a single look at her before rejecting her whole.

One day, She promised herself. One day she'd get back at them, She didn't know how or when or even if she could but she knew that one day, They would regret treating her like a bug under their foot.

As her mind wandered she started to realise that maybe it wasn't the room that was empty.

A sudden knock echoed out, Crashing [F/N]'s train of thought.

[F/N] jerked her head over to the main door of her room. Getting up from the small pillow she sat on she moved quietly to the entrance. Turning the knob and opening the door she was met face to face with one of her families servants.

"Your mother has requested me to bring you your dinner" The servant said, Robotic and monotone in voice as he presented her a bowl of udon. [F/N] paused at the sight of it.

"..It's not Sukiyaki stew pot.." She mumbled.

"Correct, Ma'am" He replied in short.

[F/N] was silent as she carefully took the small bowl from his hands, She barely noticed the small bow and the closing of the door before it was entirely shut.

[F/N] examined the soggy noodles and small tempura bits in the bowl, A barely generous helping.

She 'tched at the sight but figured she was lucky enough to even get dinner in the first place.

Turning around she walked over to the other set of double doors at the end of the room, Food in one hand she pushed the door open to reveal the small balcony outside. Stepping out into the night's cool air she took a deep breath in.

The laughter was no longer audible once she shut the door, Only replaced by the sound of cicada hums and the clacking of tiles when she clambered up onto the slanted roof of the house.

[F/N] sat down on the tiles and looked out onto the sea of village houses down below, The faint lantern light from the village was warm and inviting in contrast to the inhabitants, Of whom were out doing their nightly patrol's in watch for another mutilation.

However the scene didn't interest her in the slightest, Instead it was the moon which seemed to hang over her entire world.

It glowed brighter than any lantern the village people could spark, Yet the light was never overwhelming or stung her eyes in the slightest. Instead the soft rays of moonlight had only provided comfort.

[F/N] didn't know why it brought such solace, Maybe its because it never burnt her skin like the sun did. The moon replaced it in that way, The night time became her daytime, When she felt most lively: Herself.

She often came up onto the roof to feel that way, Every time without missing a single night she'd climb up onto the roof and speak to the moon for hours like it was an old friend. Or maybe just to stare and admire the pale light of its beauty.

But to be fair, [F/N] never felt much at all.

When she did it was always a constant state of annoyance, Anger or resentment. The feeling the moon brought her was still very unfamiliar to her, But very much welcome. She barely understood anything other than the undying resentment, Maybe it was a sad existence but to be fair she barely understood sadness either.

She realised the udon in her hands was growing cold. Reaching behind her for the pair of chopsticks she noticed something else a little further ahead from them, Lying on the roof.

She raised an eyebrow and squinted her eyes to examine it closer, But they instantly shot out once she realised what it was.

It was a single bouquet of flowers, Red, Beautiful roses sprung from the carefully arranged bunch.

[F/N]'s breath hitched in her throat, Her whole body seemed to clench up at even a small sight of it. A bouquet of roses? Who could of left those here? They couldn't be for her, Could they?

She set down her bowl of udon carefully beside her, Eyeing the bouquet like it was bound to attack her yet it didn't stop her quick crawl over to its side.

Nor did it stop the almost desperate grab she made for the neck of the bunch, Pulling it close to her chest she finally noticed the small tag sticking out from the flowers reading: To [F/N] Shiratori.

She felt the concentrated joy explode inside her like bottle rockets, The absolute euphoria flooded her senses as she felt hot blood rise to her cheeks, Giving colour to them yet said no pain.

The roses were absolutely beautiful, Carefully handpicked as the petals seemed soft and fresh. She grinned wildly, They must of took great thought while preparing it.

She couldn't help but shove her face into the roses to inhale their scent, The sweet yet rich aroma circled in her mind. They truly were the best of the bunch.

But when she pulled away she noticed she had neglected a small envelope from where the bouquet was sitting before, Hiding the envelope below it.

Her lips quirked. First the roses, Now a letter? She giggled slightly, Imagining whoever it was is a real romantic.

Extracting the envelope and gently opening it's folds she pulled the paper from its cover and unfolded it to view the contents.

Dear, [F/N]. My one and only.

Ever since I saw you on this rooftop, I knew you were the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I hope one day we will get to meet, One day in the near future.

Love, Your admirer.

It was such a simple letter, Only two simple sentences of sweet but common flatter words yet once she had finished the final word the fireworks of a foreign emotion burst inside her.

She knew it was something akin to euphoria, An exhilaration that made her blood rush to her cheeks and heat up her entire system in the cold nights air, Yet no matter how hard she tried she couldn't identify the rhapsody of song inside her.

Though she couldn't deny, It felt good. Better than she's ever felt in a very long time.

[F/N] embraced the letter with her whole body, Curling up around it to try and squeeze out more of the intoxicating feel, An addictive high.

The letter and bouquet, Whoever may have left it there, Wherever they may be, They must really really like her.

☆♡☆

The yelling of her family woke [F/N] from her peaceful slumber.

Her heavy eyelids were wrenched open as she writhed around atop the roof tiles, Bothered by the loud intrusion.

Once she finally let the light hit her pupils she realised her mistake. She was in the light, The sunlight was touching her skin.

[F/N] yelled out and instantly scuffled down off the roof, Swinging open the door she almost lunged into the safety of her house shade as she fell onto the floorboards.

Her skin burned and tinged lightly. Examining her skin she found the beginnings of a mild sunburn on her arms, The red welts fizzling up into her hands all the way to her forearms. Her light kimono doing nothing to shield her from the UV rays.

She had fallen asleep on the roof and had neglected the danger of doing so, In her panic [F/N] chided herself for her stupid mistake.

Yet outside it seemed like it was just the break of dawn, The orange to yellow hues painting the sky signalled the early hours of the morning. She was lucky that the noise woke her up in time, Otherwise her problem would be much worse.

Scrambling over to her vanity mirror to examine the full entirety of her body she gasped on sight as soon as she saw her reflection in the polished glass. Her face.

At least a good third of face was covered in red hot boils and welts, The sore burn crept up from her left cheek over to her chin, Reaching as far as her right side too.

"No.. No, No, No.. Please, No!" She yelled, [F/N]'s eyes almost popped out of her sockets with tears starting to form at the corners. She trailed her equally burnt hands across the scorch marks in disbelief at what she was seeing.

A sudden rapid pounding at her door knocked her out of her stupor.

"[F/N]! Open the door, Now!" It was her mother's voice. The alarm in her voice seemed to resonate in [F/N] to give her a grasp of their unknown situation.

"Jeez.. Hold on!" [F/N] called out towards her door, Yet she saw the handle start to turn. A spike in her adrenaline shot up.

"I'm getting dressed, Damn it!" [F/N] screamed, Her voice as hoarse as a fourty-year chain-smoker. The turning of the knob stopped as soon as she let the words leave her mouth.

"Fine, But make it quick! And make sure to put on something nice." Her mother yelled back at her, A small tint of exasperation lacing her tone yet her footsteps leaving down the hallway sounded determined in their path.

[F/N] cursed. Bullets of sweat rolled down her face and stung the burns where they lay. She had no idea what she was going to do. Rapidly sliding out drawers in her vanity to find anything of use, To no avail.

Next she went to her closet. Swinging the old wooden doors open she shifted through her different coloured kimonos. Pulling through the silk and cotton she found nothing of use except for a thickly woven navy kimono that was oversized and could cover her body nice and neatly.

Despite that there was still the issue of her face, The burn marks were so noticeable you could see them from miles away. There was nothing that could hide her scorches from the sun-

Her hand bumped up against something.

[F/N]'s temple furrowed. Reaching into the back of dark, Spacious cupboard she gripped onto the object she felt was made of straw.

With a tug and a pull she managed to haul out the hefty object, Revealing it to be her old uchikatsugi.

It was a gift from the town's doctor before he passed away from old age a few years ago, [F/N] remembered him fondly even though he was never really around.

He still did greet her with a smile and a handshake every time they met, It wouldn't be wrong to describe him as a father figure either.

Though as always, Good things didn't last. They never did.

[F/N] had no time to dwell on that last thought, Her relief was a much more appealing distraction.

The uchikatsugi, A large straw hat for noblewomen with a large silky veil to cover her face. Back when she got it, It was way too big for her to use with her small body so she stored it in her closet for a later use, [F/N] supposed she just forgot about it.

She sat the large hat down on her head, And with a little shimmying to get it properly down it fit her head like a glove to a hand.

Once she finished changing into her dark cerulean kimono, She was ready to go downstairs and see whatever it was her family was making such a ruckus about.

As she took careful strides down the creaky steps of the stairs she saw her mother impatiently tapping her foot at the bottom. [F/N], Before making herself known, Fixed up her appearance to make sure nothing was showing free.

Once she was pleased, [F/N] cleared her throat to which her mother jerked her head around to her 'daughters' direction.

"Ah, Finally. I was wondering what took you so long." Her mother remarked, Letting her folded arms drop to her sides. [F/N] huffed at the passive aggressive tone yet felt alleviation, Her clothes worked, Her mother couldn't see a thing.

"Had to find a good enough outfit for such an important event, At least from the sounds of it. Why am I up this early anyways?" [F/N] yawned, Still not quite tuned in despite her earlier shock.

"There was another one." Her mother responded quickly, Turning away.

"Another what?" [F/N] queried, Tad annoyed at her mothers elusive behaviour.

"Another mutilation, [F/N]." Her mother exasperated, Swiftly turning back to look at her with an expression that just oozed the word obviously.

[F/N] stopped, Mulling over the information.

"Alright, Okay that's bad but why does this concern me?" She asked after a moment.

Her mother shook her head to her daughters persistence.

"This is a village matter, [F/N]. Something we are apart of" Her mother explained, Treating [F/N] like a curious toddler repeatedly asking why.

"Unfortunately.." [F/N] muttered.

"Just get a move on downstairs now, Swiftly now.." Her mother said, Quickly pulling [F/N]'s shoulder and hushing her down the second set of stairs. [F/N] shrugged of her mothers firm hand, Telling her she'll go down herself.

Settling her hat comfortably onto her head she headed downstairs, Dreading future events.

☆♡☆

The early morning air was cold and fresh as it weaved through the tall houses of the village.

Usually in the mornings with the first break of dawn you could hear the chirping of the crows harking in the early crowds off to work. You could see the townsfolk head to the markets and children run about in the streets, Laughing and roughhousing with each other like siblings together.

But today was different.

The echo of crows on the village walls were silent now. The children who use to run about in the streets buck wild were now pulled close to their parents, A worried smile replacing their usual carefree faces.

[F/N] stood away back from the large crowd gathered in the centre of the village, Everyone from the village was here. The elders, The working class to the babies were summoned together in the village, All quietly chattering amongst themselves.

She observed the crowd in distain, What mundane people leading such plain lives. They They wasted their lives in the sun, Taking the warmth for granted working nine to fives and coming home to their stupid little families, Accomplishing nothing big in their lives yet they boasted of grandeur while she stood standing away from them, Suffering from the pain of her sunburn.

She huffed at the thought.

[F/N] didn't stand with her family, She only watched them as they made their way to the front of the front of the crowd of which immediately quieted down at the sight of them

[F/N]'s father was considered the head of the village and therefore took care of all the important matters.

However since he was absent it was up to her mother to take care of her husbands duties while he was away

"Hello everybody, It's good to see you all out here today." Her mother called out her opening statement. She was backed by the other four of her siblings, Juro standing especially besides her.

Despite her hello's, Nobody answered her.

"I suppose you all know why you were called here, Regarding the death of the Hagihara family." Her mother continued.

Hagihara, That rang a bell in [F/N]'s mind.

Her eyes widened in recognition, The neurons connecting in her mind as the face of the little girl she had hit with a rock entered into her head.

"If you're not already aware of what happened, Early in the morning screams were heard from their family home. On investigation they were found.. Killed inside their Livingroom.. No survivors" Her mother announced.

A few shocked gasps ran from the crowd, The chatter from before sparked up like a lighter on the fuel of information. However their talking was calmed by her mother rather loudly clearing her throat.

"Yes, Yes. I understand this is horrible information, And I know a good lot of you were close with the family and I do offer my sincerest apologies." Her mother said. Her voice filled with a genuine sympathy, Showing it by giving a few select nods towards some of the crowd.

[F/N] didn't listen to her mother however, The information was still fresh in her mind.

This information should have left a lack of feeling in [F/N]'s chest, And regarding the deaths it did.

But the coincidence of it felt like a static shock to a dead heart. First it was the Furukawa's, They were particularly nasty to [F/N]. When they fell victims to the night veiled attacks she had felt glad despite how morbid it was, They weren't there to harass her anymore.

However now it was the Hagihara's, Only yesterday did they get negatively involved with her after the rock incident and now they were dead.

No. No, It was just a coincidence.

Even though they did hold hatred against her so did all of the other villagers. If the mutilations were connected to her then the mutilations would be targeted towards more outspoken villagers, Even if it was because of the rock incident other villagers would of been targeted before her. Her family would be targeted before them.

Even so, She needed to make sure.

[F/N] was barely listening when she quickly took off away from the crowd down an alleyway. Slipping away from the group with ease as their attention was still heavily focused onto her mother, Who was still continuing on with her speech. She couldn't bare to be surrounded by such waste of flesh anymore.

She picked up pace once she realised she was far enough away, Managing to navigated the rock base of the village with proficiency and quickly coming to a stop once she stood in front of the targeted house. Luckily it was located on the other side of the village, She could make as much noise as she needed.

Once she finally stopped she could notice the broken down door almost instantly. The village houses were regularly built together so this was striking to her. The shoji door was splintered into pieces of wood and sheet, Tiny pieces.

[F/N] swallowed a lump in her throat, Realising the weight of what she was doing. But it didn't stop her from taking strides forward, Past the destroyed bits of door and into the house where she saw the real carnage.

The Livingroom was absolutely destroyed.

Walls were shook and large scratch marks decorated them like paintings. Furniture was flung about and lay toppled across the entire main room like a wild beast was let loose, A bear, A rhino. Something of that size could of done this, Yet she could tell it was entirely human design.

The room was completely in the dark, No sunlight shown through which let [F/N] take her uchikatsugi off to get a better look.

Despite all of the wreckage its the fact that the room was coloured head to toe in red, That is what sent a feeling of dread crawl up [F/N]'s back.

The blood was stained on table cloths, Floors, Wooden walls. Anything that could be stained was drenched in the now-dry ichor of red. Thankfully the bodies weren't here anymore, Most likely hauled off to get cremated.

The singe of the scent of blood itched at the tip of [F/N]'s nose as she took a few more cautious steps inside, Carefully avoiding the debris as she finally made her way into the centre of the Livingroom.

The whole place just radiated fear and destruction, So much so that it felt like a cold hand was resting on her shoulder when she looked out at the scene.

Her eyes shot up.

She jerked her whole body around and stumbled back like a shock to her system, She lost her balance and fell backwards.

"Careful there." The smooth voice belonged to a man, Who caught her once she fell backwards.

His strength was commendable as he only laid a single hand on her back to keep her supported.

[F/N] was breathing heavily, Loud gasps of air from the sheer fright the man gave her. He gently lifted her up to her feet, Making sure to steady her.

"I apologise if I gave you a fright there, I do have a habit of being a quiet walker" He explained with a courteous smile.

"Yeah.. You do.." That was all [F/N] could say, Her breath still taken away but not from the fall as she laid her eyes on the mans face.

The man was pale, Deathly pale. While [F/N] was as white as a sheet from her condition it looked like he was sickly and withering, Yet the look seemed to compliment his bone structure. His dark wavy locks shaped his face and came down to his sharp jawline, Perfectly brushed and trimmed.

However it was his eyes that struck [F/N] the most, The same ruby irises that she had harboured stared right back at her. Even through the darkness of the room she could see the vividness of the red through the suffocating black.

"..Are you alright?" He asked. [F/N] didn't even realise she was staring before he snapped her out of it.

"Yes, Yes. I'm fine, Thank you." She said, A hint of practiced resentment laced her voice. A built-up tactic to protect herself. But the suspicion was warrented however, The clean cut black suit vest with golden coloured lacing was clue enough to tell her he wasn't from here.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, Resting her hands onto her hips. Her eyes were locked onto his own, Searching for any sign of deception.

The man simply let out a breath of air.

"I'm here to this village on business reasons, I was just passing through when I saw the door broken down. I'm just here to make sure everything is alright." He explained, A light carefree tone in his voice.

"My name is Tsukihiko, I travelled here from Tokyo" Tsukihiko added after a moment.

[F/N] carefully examined his body language for any sign of him lying, Any twitch of the hand or quirk of the lips but she came up empty handed. She had no reason not to believe him.

"Okay then, Tsukihiko.." She drawled, Still cautious of him "Well since you obviously don't know, There's been a string of murders going on in this village for a long while now. You really shouldn't be in here" She said.

"May I ask why you are here then? No offense, But you don't look like an investigator or any kind of authority, Miss." Tsukihiko said yet his tone sounded near playful if it wasn't for his dignified self.

[F/N] felt her tensed shoulders deflate, He got her there.

"..None of your business" She retorted, But her previous aversion had dissolved into a weak huff. "What's an investigator suppose to look like anyways?" [F/N] mused.

"Usually not like a beautiful noblewoman such as yourself, The one's I've seen tend to be a bit more.. Lacking in that department" Tsukihiko replied, As if what he said held absolutely no weight at all.

But that wasn't true to [F/N], The words held so much weight that it squeezed down at her heart. That same, Unfamiliar euphoric feeling she felt holding the flowers kept rushing out of the compressed heart and filling her system once again.

Did he really see her beauty? Or was it a way to strengthen out a deal with a noble family's daughter? If so then the joke would be on him. But he wasn't that far off from her, They were both pale and shared the same wine-stained eyes. Maybe he did understand her beauty. The mere thought of it seemed to clench her heart tighter.

However, It was stopped by a single missed heartbeat.

The sunburn, She still had the sunburn on her skin. Her uchikatsugi still lain slack in her left hand. [F/N] felt her hands suddenly grow clammy and her lungs take in a sharp breath, A quick spike in adrenaline made her entire body freeze up.

Tsukihiko seemed to notice her realisation, Somehow understanding her sudden panic he gently rested a hand onto the girls cheek.

"I mean my words, I'm not quite fond of the sun either." Tsukihiko said, That deep voice ringing soft in the girls ear.

The hand on her cheek should of been warm, But instead of the expected body heat coming from him there was a cold chill that ran down her from his touch.

It felt nice on her sunburn, It seemed to cool down the itchy feel of heat simmering in her skin and instead made it feel like a early summer breeze. [F/N] in response seemed to soften down and lean into the cold, Only a little bit.

"Seriously? People here seem to enjoy the sun a lot, You disliking it would be a first" [F/N] mumbled absentmindedly, Her gaze trailing off to some unknown point of the room. "How'd you know I didn't like the sun anyways?"

"A good guess, I suppose. You have albinism, Correct? It's only natural to have a resentment towards the sun when it sears your skin, I have a particularly terrible condition myself so I suppose I can empathise" Tsukihiko explained.

His words brought [F/N]'s eyes back to his own, Their shared eyes meeting together. Ones searching for any kind of lie while the others looked back with only the sincerest of truth's, At least from what [F/N] could tell anyways.

She felt a sudden sense of an unrecognisable feeling.

Not like the one she had before when it felt like fireworks, But instead one that felt like a rope was tied between the two. Like a single string had suddenly appeared just from his words, A sudden connection.

Connection? That sounded right, At least she thought so.

"..I see. You don't seem to have albinism, So what's your condition anyways?" [F/N] queried. While the man was pale and had the same red eyes she had, It couldn't of been albinism. His hair was a natural noir and his skin still held a very tiny bit of melanin.

[F/N] saw his lips quirk, It wasn't noticeable, Only a quick twitch before they were back to their usual smile. It almost raised an eyebrow.

"..It's not a specific illness that has been diagnosed however the symptoms do include a rather harsh weakness to sunlight." He said.

Thats strange, [F/N] thought. Tsukihiko was only wearing a suit vest, Black dress slacks and a clean white blouse. He had no form of sun protection like [F/N]'s kimono or uchikatsugi. It was weird, And [F/N] wasn't going to let it go for a second.

"Really? Then how did you get here without something like a parasol, Or any kind of protection?" She asked, Her guard raised up once again in light of the new information.

Tsukihiko's guard followed with [F/N]'s. His shoulders stiffened up and the smile on his face seemed just a tad bit more strained than it did before.

"Well luckily due to-"

"[F/N]!" A sudden scream cut through the start of his words. [F/N] gasped, She recognised the voice of which belonged to her mother.

She cursed under her breath and rushed past the man, Her attention fully diverted from him as she set the uchikatsugi onto her head and went out of the house and into the sun.

[F/N] finally stumbled out onto the rocky street road, Only to see her mother at the end of the road angrily making her way towards her. [F/N] sucked air through her teeth, She was in trouble.

She saw Juro stand behind her, Watching their mother make their way towards [F/N] with the omnipresent smugness drenching his face.

"Told you she was here!" He called out to his mother, But she didn't look back, She was way too focused on her eldest who stood there frozen like a frightened opossum.

The heavy sounds of her mothers sandals against rock and the single strum of a biwa echoed out into the wide walls of the village. Luckily no one else was around, Probably still making their way here from being dispersed only earlier from the town meeting.

"What the hell do you think your doing, Young woman?!" Her mother yelled. Finally closing the distance between the two her mothers hand lunged for her daughters wrist, Yanking her close to her [F/N] let out a curse under her breath.

"What? Can't I check out the crime scene?" [F/N] remarked with a practiced incredulous tone. Ignorant curiosity, It wasn't the reason she came here for but her mother didn't need to know that.

Her mother looked back at her, Incredulous, Just like [F/N]'s voice. However it was mixed with contorted expression of how one might look at spoiled food, Maggots and rodents already festering and all.

"..Do you even listen to what comes out of your mouth? At any point in your life do you even think about what you're about to do?" Her mother said, Only a single pitch away from a whisper.

"Either way it wasn't why I was here, I was talking to that man over there." [F/N] said, Lazily motioning her head under the hat towards the entrance of the house. Her mother quickly strode away from her daughter, But made the move to grab her wrist and drag her along as she went towards the entrance of the house.

"Hey! Hands off me-" [F/N] yelled. Despite her mothers old bones it seemed the sheer anger made her completely apathetic to her age.

"What man? There's no one there." Her mother hissed. Pushing her daughter in front of her to get a better look at the house.

It was true. Apart from the dried carnage and the destroyed insides of the Livingroom there was no sign of life inside. No noise nor presence to be found.

[F/N] felt her heart stop inside her chest, Her breath stifled. That was impossible, The only entrance inside the house was the main door. If he had left through the main door then there would of been no doubt that he would of been spotted.

"Good gods, [F/N].." Her mother groaned, Massaging her temple to soothe her irritation.

"He was here! I swear, I don't know wher-"

"Oh just be quiet, [F/N]!" Her mother exclaimed.

Turning to face her daughter she jumped back in surprise, The look on her mothers worn face was tired and so very angry.

"I'm so done with just letting you run about and do as you please, Someone needs to give you discipline to show you how things work around here" Her mother said lowly.

Yanking [F/N] forward they took off away from the scene. [F/N] couldn't keep up with her fast pace and stumbled around as she was pulled along in her mothers grip.

They passed Juro who didn't even turn his head towards her families squabble, Only side-eyeing [F/N] as they passed.

Juro, That bastard, An Ironic insult but it was the best she could mouth at him as she was dragged by. He was the one who had alerted his mother to her absence, He had to be. Mother wouldn't care if she had wandered off, Juro on the other hand would pick out any opportunity he could to ruin her day.

As she was dragged back to their family home she cursed him out under her breath. [F/N] would've wondered why he was like this to her, But she knew that there was never a reason apart from stigma with a streak of sadism and superiority.

She'd get back at him one day. That, She swore.

☆♡☆

Loud footsteps slammed against the wooden floorboards of the house making louds creaks in their wake.

Opening and slamming the door it shook the frame of her room with the sheer force at which it hit.

As soon as it shut [F/N] pushed herself up against the door and let out a loud cry. The tears she was holding back with a fierce determination now flooded down her face without a hint of resistance.

She slowly slid down the door until it was only her, Sitting on the cold floorboards pressed up against the door, Sobbing her eyes out.

[F/N] didn't know why she was crying, Maybe it was just the broken dam of a slowly rising tide. The house of cards that finally toppled once the slightest of disruptions knocked over its foundation, Causing the entire building to fall down.

What she did know however, Is the words of which her mother had told her.

"Punishment!" "Deserve!" "Finally!"

The words her mother had used when she confiscated her parasols and uchikatsugi swarmed her like a hive of insects. The one thing that protected her from the sun, That let her feel like a normal person even if only for a single minute was taken away by her mother.

She had called it a deserving punishment, Finally giving her daughter the discipline she needed.

What would she even achieve from taking them away? To teach her a lesson, Perhaps. Maybe she had thought it would exorcise the demon that was disguised as her daughter. Even if she did think that before, After seeing the sunburn ingrained onto her skin gave her a good reminder alright.

[F/N]'s breath came out in hitches. Rapid gasps for breaths as she desperately tried to wipe away the unforgiving tears coming out of her eyes. Everyone kept asking what was wrong with her when the only thing she could ask was what was wrong with them.

She didn't choose to be like this. She didn't choose the red bloodshot eyes nor did she choose the bright white of her hair and skin, It didn't mean she was a demon. What was wrong with this world? What did she do to deserve this?

[F/N] lifted her head to wipe away the build up of fluid on her face when she caught the vivid red in the corner of her eye.

It made her breath hitch once more, But not from the pain in her lungs or the sting in her eyes.

[F/N] didn't even bother getting up, Instead favouring to hastily crawl over to her bed. Once she lifted her upper body to see what it was her eyes widened.

It was another bouquet, Just as beautiful as the last. The red petals of rose were fresh and smelt as such, Purifying the air around her and drawing her in with the sweet scent. The colour of the roses seemed to give a hot kick compared to the coldness of her abode.

It was that feeling again. Fireworks. The feeling that brought the warmth back to her, The one she could never describe.

[F/N] took the bouquet into her arms, The softness of both the petals and the trimmed stems caressed her bare skin.

Her lips twitched. The corners of her mouth turning themselves into a new smile, Feeling foreign on her face. There was no letter this time, However that didn't matter.

The bouquet said everything it needed to. She pulled it close as the last of her tears dried, Turning only into small sniffles now and then.

Maybe things weren't so awful after all.

☆♡☆

In the following months, Slowly, A routine started to form.

[F/N] wasn't allowed to go outside of her house, So she had to make do with what she had inside her room.

In the mornings she'd wake up, Make her bed and get ready for the day. Afterwards she would go downstairs to collect her breakfast and make her way back to her room.

Then in the afternoons she'd make herself busy by playing solo games of old sets in her room: Shogi, Menko or Origami, Anything to keep her occupied and keep the boredom at bay.

[F/N] knew if she just apologised and promised to her mother she'd be good she could definetly worm her way out of punishment, However she decided against it. Her pride and dignity was worth baring a stupid little punishment from her mother.

At night she would get her dinner from the kitchens and make her way up to the rooftops again, Speaking to the moon as her only social output as long as you don't count the snide comments from Juro or the single syllable answers from her mother.

For hours she'd just spout out about whatever came to mind. Her day, Frustrations and desires would all be entrusted to the celestial body, A silent promise not to tell between the two.

[F/N] thought it was funny, She'd started to believe the moon could really hear her. It felt like that too sometimes, That someone was really there to listen to her.

And finally, Careful not to make her mistake again she'd close the blinds and make her way to bed. Only to start the cycle all over again the next day.

Though sometimes the cycle would break, Sometimes she would find another bouquet. Lying on the roof or sat tidy on her bed.

Sometimes the person in question would leave a letter too. The sweet words seeming sacred as the flow of the writing went through her, Touching the very core of her heart.

She'd soak up every letter, Every little word she'd mull over for hours at a time letting that feeling coarse through her blood stream. These letters appeared about once a week, Quickly becoming the only thing she had to look forward to.

It was good, It was very good. It hit her one day, Lying in bed while rereading the latest letter for the fifth time.

Was this love?

Maybe. Before the letter had started she had dismissed the concept of it entirely, Love was just a façade. A husband and wife was suppose to love each other yet her mother and father barely spoke when they were around.

A sibling was suppose to love their other siblings unconditionally, But instead hers had shunned her and at best gave backhanded remarks. Sure, Her mother might of loved her kids but even then it was just maternal instinct.

Love was just a construct, That was her belief. It was a way to explain how things worked in a mysterious world, It didn't actually exist. No, It couldn't. At least not for her.

But when she held the soft paper in her hands and finished the last letter of the note it finally clicked, This was love. It had to be.

The undying passion written in the letters proved it, The vowing to love her always said it. It made her blush like an alcoholic intoxicated onto the feeling it gave her.

It was so addicting that she never really took care into asking herself how they got into her room or onto her roof, How they knew exactly what she liked or how she wanted it. That wasn't important.

What was important was who it was. Was it a girl or a boy? How old are they? What do they look like? What's their name? She pondered over this often and to be honest, She couldn't care less about who it was. They loved her, That's all that mattered. It was the spark of light in a dark hopeless void.

Even the rocks thrown through her balcony window, Scribbled in ink with the word "demon" couldn't take her out of her high. Nor the continuing mutilations building up a body count in town could catch her now.

Nowadays the entire family was counting down for the arrival of her father. His business trip had came to an end and now he was making his way home, Due to arrive in a week.

In a weeks time her father would be home, She dreaded the thought. So that's why she had carefully wrote a letter of her own and left it on the rooftop, A common spot for the person in question to leave their letters.

She wrote every letter with passion and folded the envelope with care, Waiting for the response she had went back to bed, Waiting for her admirer to take her away.

"When can I see you? I want to know who you are."

☆♡☆

Her letter had been answered.

The letter she had left on the roof was replaced with a letter of their own. The next day she had found it lying in the same spot, Bouquet of roses and all.

She read the words several times over, Just to make sure she was reading things right.

Midnight, Meet me outside on the pathway to the village. I'll be waiting.

Love, Your admirer.

They wanted to meet her, Her admirer wanted to meet her tonight. As soon as she read the last word she squealed like a little girl on her birthday and spun herself around the room with exhilarant joy.

She stopped dead in her tracks. She needed to get ready. Looking down at her morning kimono she realised she needed to wear her best, She couldn't go out looking like this.

The feeling of wanting to look your best while in front of someone was another new sensation, She'd been having a lot of new sensations lately. All because of her admirer. It was only right to look as good as she could.

She thought back to her experience a few months ago, That man, Tsukihiko. Maybe he was her admirer. The way he looked at her with those matching red eyes just spoke to her, It had to be him. Who else could it be?

Sifting through her closet she finally picked out a rather expensive kimono with a matching yukata. The design's laced onto the fabric were beautiful and made with care, When [F/N] looked at it she knew she had found the perfect one.

But looking in the mirror she knew her hair needed some touching up, Her makeup too.. And her nails and maybe she could find a cute hairpin? Maybe her hair needs touching up again..

By the time she was done it the sun had long set, Replacing the clear blue with a star filled winter night.

[F/N] knew she wasn't allowed out of the house, She knew when she carefully maneuvered her way down the rooftop. It never left her mind even soon as she felt her best sandals hit the ground, But nor did it ever matter to her. She was going to meet her admirer, That was much more important than her mother.

[F/N] moved hastily down the pathway from her house to the village, The letter never specified where about on the pathway they were to meet so she had just decided to walk until something happened.

She slowed down in her tracks to only a leisurely walk. The cold air hit the back of her neck and ran through her hair as she went. [F/N] felt her heart beating like a drum, The rhythm thumping at her ribcage felt like it was going to explode from her chest.

Her leisured stroll came to a stop, By now she could see the village lights and the rest of the stone-lined path. Her eyes followed it all the way back to where she was standing, No one was there. Not Tsukihiko, Not anyone.

[F/N]'s face scrunched up in confusion, She had went the entire pathway and no one was to be found. Could she be late? Looking up at the sky to see the moon dead-centre in the sky that ruled out the possibility entirely.

Then suddenly, She felt a rock hit her back.

The force pushed her over, Collapsing to the ground on her knee's.

The shock struck her like an ice-pick to the back, Causing a cold chill to wash over her. As soon as it hit her thoughts had came to a standstill, Trying to compute what just happened.

A few pairs of footsteps came running out from behind her.

[F/N] looked behind her, Eyes bloodshot and open to their limits as she finally spied the group.

"There! Told you she'd come." Juro laughed to the group of kids behind him, His friends, All carrying pouches of unknown fillings. They all looked down at [F/N], Their expressions all smiling wide and giggling along quietly to Juro.

Another feeling washed over, Anger only an aftertaste to the pain writhing around in her chest. Her arms shook as she tried to gather her Barings, However another quick jolt of pain went to her stomach. One of his friends who she recognised as the Furukawa boy had kicked her, Making her fall down again.

"Demon scum!" He exclaimed as he stepped back towards the group. [F/N] groaned in pain as she wiped away the red specks coming from her mouth.

"What.. What the fuck. The hell.. Are you doing here, Juro" [F/N] hissed, The truth of the situation going straight over her head.

"What? You don't remember? Meet me here at midnight on the pathway to the village!" He teased, The mocking tone in his voice made his group laugh. Juro looked at her straight in the eyes, The sadism shining through the dull overlay.

[F/N] stopped, Going completely still.

No, It couldn't be. Please, For the love of whatever god is up there. It can't be.

"You.. It was you?" She breathed lowly, Disbelieving eyes piercing into his. Pleading with him silently, Subconciously. Juro seemed to toss his head to the side and took a few lazy steps towards her, He had no care in the world as he stood only a foot away from his defeated sister.

"Of course it was me. I knew all about your little rooftop talks, I was the one to leave the bouquets in the first place." He announced it as if it was obvious all along, As if it was nothing but a throwaway joke in a play.

[F/N] felt her heart break.

She felt the culmination of that feeling built up over months, The growing flutter of her heart. The feeling she had even dared to consider love was shattered into a million pieces, Reduced to nothing but ashes.

This wasn't true, How could it be? It couldn't.. [F/N] felt her vision start to go blurry. She opened her dry mouth, She only had one question to ask.

"So.. For months.. You left me flowers.. Letters. All so you could bring me out here..?" She whispered. The blurryness in her eyes gathered and dripped down her face, Cold against her burning face.

"Well I mean, Not at first. In the beginning it was just a way to mess with you, It was funny for me but then.." Juro motioned over to his friends "When I told my friends about it we thought it was an opportunity we couldn't lose, Especially when you left a letter of your own." He finished.

The words devastated [F/N]. The entire world around her seemed so desolate, Like she drowning under the weight of the entire ocean unable to breathe or speak.

She didn't even flinch when Juro and his group raised their hands, The pouches full of unknown contents brought high. And when they threw it, She was glad that her tears blurred their faces.

She curled up into a ball and wished for this nightmare to be over.

☆♡☆

The dragging of slow footsteps echoed lowly in the dark hallway. The passage was dark and near lifeless as most of the house was asleep at this point, Only a few servants lay awake finishing their nightly duties.

[F/N]'s feet barely left the ground as she clutched the hot cup of tea in her hands. In the days that passed it was the only thing she subsided on except from the small bites of food she would eat during the day.

Her eyes seemed low and sunken, Like they were struggling to stay open. Along with her matted hair and chapped lips she appeared dishevelled similar to how an insomniac running on coffee would be, Though at this point that was basically what she became.

Gently pulling open the door to her bedroom [F/N] took a few short steps inside. Once she closed the door she was greeted once again by the emptiness of her room.

She let out a defeated sigh. Trotting over to her bed she set her tea down on the side table, Right before collapsing right onto the bed.

She sunk down into the mattress, Letting the temporary warmth and shelter of the blankets envelop her.

[F/N] was tired, Very tired. Right then and there she wanted to close her eyes and not wake up, Not for a long time. But she knew that no matter how hard she tried she wouldn't be able to sleep, Not as long as her mind was as conflicted as hers.

She turned over onto her back so she could stare up at the ceiling. Before all of this had happened she felt angry or annoyed, Always, There was no in-between. Maybe a splash of surprise here and there but apart from that there was no flux.

After she read the letters her palette had expanded, It felt like she was tasting a new wild variety of flavours for the first time after only eating bread for her entire life. She felt euphoric, She felt love and infatuation. It was good, It was so good.

But now after being hazed with flour and hit with rocks, Humiliated and embarrassed by Juro and his gang she just felt.. Nothing.

She wasn't angry nor was she annoyed, She's tried to feel those things, She tried to feel some sort of rage towards him but after everything she just couldn't.

Juro had even left an extra bouquet for when she got back that night, This one not of roses but instead spider lilies.

The only thing she could do was toss them out from the balcony, The flowers taking all of her anger with it.

[F/N] turned her head over to her balcony. The blinds were shut over the doors yet there was a small opening, A little crack that let moonlight filter through into the room. She could see the moon facing her through the opening, Gathering up what she had left she opened her mouth.

"Is this it..? Is this all there will ever be to my life..?" She whispered, Looking at the moon as her only friend.

She waited. She waited a good few minutes, Waiting for any kind of response from her oldest companion.

Yet nothing came. The moon just looked down on her, Just like they did, Just like they all did.

[F/N] huffed lightly, Turning away from the moon. It was stupid. She grew up to believe that the moon was always there for her, That it would always listen to her. It was her friend.

She knew how stupid that was now. The moon wasn't her friend, It couldn't listen to her. All this time she spoke to an unfeeling object, Something that couldn't understand her or provide any comfort.

"Is this all there will ever be to my life"

Her words rang out in her head. At every turn she was dejected back down into the dirt. While the healthy ran outside to live their life she was stuck at home, Unable to get a job or a husband due to her looks.

She hated them, If she had anything else left to feel it was hatred. They lived their lives free to do anything they wanted yet they wasted it on mundane jobs, Mundane lives while she was left here to fester.

[F/N] closed her eyes. Listening to the servant outside brush the hallways, She tried to use it as white noise. Something to fa-

THUMP!

[F/N] opened her eyes slowly.

The wall to her room that was shared with the hallway suddenly let out a large thump. Coincidentally the sounds of sweeping came to an abrupt stop right before the noise.

Everything was silent now, There was no noise coming from outside nor from [F/N]. Instead she just watched the door, Waiting for the next sign of life.

Another set of footsteps came, Not belonging to the servant before. These ones were heavier, Filled with purpose and stride.

She listened as they reached her door, Coming to a sudden stop in front of it. [F/N] listened half-heartedly along, Waiting for the next sound.

It came. The slow but loud creaking of the door echoed from the walls in her room. She didn't dare to look up into the dark void of the doorway, She knew what was happening. She knew what was going to happen. This was the demon who caused the villages mutilations, There was only one outcome.

The footsteps entered the room. From [F/N]'s limited vision she could only see what looked to be a mans body dressed in a suit jacket and blouse, The left arm stained with a fresh crimson. Her eyes moved up, She couldn't see his face however, The moonlight didn't reveal it.

[F/N] sighed, Maybe out of exhaustion or maybe out of relief.

"So it's you, You're the one whose been doing the mutilations I suppose.. I'm guessing you got to the servant outside right?" She drawled, Letting the syllables play out on her tongue.

The man didn't answer, He only stopped in his tracks. [F/N] could feel his eyes on her, Running over her body, Like a wolf checking to see if the fox could fit in its maws.

[F/N] didn't expect an answer, But she continued anyways.

"You're going to kill me now, Probably even before I've finished my sentence but just.. Just let me make one final request.." A sudden jolt came from inside her like the final remains of lighter fluid sparking out into the raging blizzard.

It felt like vengeance, If she was going down then she knew who was coming with her.

"I don't care if you kill me.. But when you do I want you to take my family too. I don't care how you do it but I want you to make it bloody, I want you to make sure that my father comes home to a slaughter house, I want you to make sure people remember this." She said, The liquid in the lighter drying with her words.

She closed her eyes, Waiting on her bound demise.

This was it. Her body relaxed to take in her final moments. The warmth of the blanket, The coldness of her room, The beating of her heart.

"Who said I would kill you.."

And the feeling of a hand over hers, Gripping it tight.

Her eyes opened wide at the voice, Her irises searched and landed on the mans face now illuminated by the moonlight, It was one she recognised.

"It's you.." [F/N] breathed, She looked over the mans features, Just to make sure.

"Tsukihiko" She whispered. It was him, She saw it now. It was the same suit-jacket, The same styled hair and red eyes. A gentle smile graced his face as he moved even closer than he was currently.

"Even though I may have told you so, Tsukihiko isn't my real name." He corrected. That same deep tone of voice he used all those months ago laced his voice, Resonating deep inside her.

"My name is Muzan Kibutsuji, I am the progenitor of all demons." He declared softly. The hand he had entwined with hers squeezed tighter. His hand wasn't warm, It was in fact cold to the touch but it didn't feel uncomfortable, It was instead akin to shaved ice during a heatwave.

The progenitor of all demons, This was the demon king. It raised more questions than answers but [F/N] could only ask a single one.

"Then, why won't you kill me? Why are you telling me all of this?" She whispered, Looking deep into his eyes for the answer.

He only looked back with the most sincere emotion a being like him could have.

"Because, It seems I've become infatuated with you."

The words left his lips with a finality, As if he was just as bewildered as she was looking into his eyes.

The words pierced her like a spear. [F/N] felt eyes expand and her jaw opening only a little. It was that feeling again, That same feeling, The fireworks.

"..How can I trust your words? How do I know you're not lying to me?" She asked, A small treble in her voice. How could she trust anything he said, Not when she could never trust anything anyone said to her.

"You can't trust me." Muzan finalised, Agreeing with her words. She felt disappointment start to bubble up in her before her spoke one more.

"But when I say that I have became smitten over you from the day I saw you on that roof top, When I say that I became enraptured by your beauty and charm I want you to believe that, My love." He spoke.

[F/N] was speechless, She couldn't believe what she was hearing but by the gods did she want to. Heat rose to her cheeks and she stumbled to get out a single vowel before she was pulled to her feet by Muzan.

"Everything I've been doing these past few months I've done for you, Everything. You are more than a mere human, You're someone I can call my equal" He whispered. And from his suit pocket he pulled out something that gleamed in the moonlight.

It was a ring of silver, A wedding ring. It was beautiful. A sapphire center piece for the gemstone, Crowned by the silver and another dozen gems surrounding it.

[F/N]'s breath hitched at the sight of it.

"You want me… To marry you?" She asked, The words foreign on her tongue. [F/N] still stood in disbelief, Shock, A flurry of new emotions invading her senses that made her need to conceal an excited grin.

"Yes. I see no one else worthy of being called my wife, Only you." He replied. Gentle smile still painted on his face.

The fireworks went off. In that moment, [F/N] knew the answer, One that she couldn't put into words but instead an action.

As soon as the fireworks exploded she took a step forward, Putting her lips on his and bringing Muzan into a deep kiss. Trying her best to make it as passionate as possible with her inexperience.

Muzan didn't resist, But instead seemed to expect it. He put an arm around her waist and took lead, Guiding her along.

As it happened she felt their bodies collide, His arms were wrapped around her body tightly while hers rested on his shoulders in the heat of the moment.

[F/N] barely noticed the ring slip onto her finger, A perfect fit. She could only focus on their lips mingling with each other, His fangs clashing against her bottom lip while she tried to figure out what to do with her tongue.

Muzan's hand slipped down to her neck. A single claw cutting open both his finger and a small part of [F/N]'s neck, Letting his blood mix with hers.

The motion made [F/N] pull away from Muzan, The feeling of her stomach turning interrupting her.

"What the.." She mumbled. [F/N]'s body started to shake, She felt weird. Stumbling back a few feet she was caught by Muzan, Smiling at her with that same gentle look.

He set her down onto her bed, Caressing her cheek with care.

"Rest now, Your transformation should only take a few minutes." Muzan said, Sitting beside her on the bed.

[F/N] nodded, She knew what he meant and she simply didn't care. Only smiling lazily as she let her heart circulate his blood round her system. She felt him close her eyes. And let his blood take her over completely.

☆♡☆

[F/N] followed Muzan down the hallway. Her movements were slow yet jerky at the same time, Like her entire body was numb and barely woken up.

Her mind was hazy, Like a sudden mist started to fall over her mind as soon as she woke up. Her stomach turning had turned into a sudden emptiness, A sudden hunger. She had a craving for something, She didn't know what. However all she knew is that she had to follow Muzan as he helped her down the stairs.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs onto the second floor, Suddenly she caught something sweet in the air, Enticing her on.

Muzan noticed this, An almost amused smile appeared on his face.

"Go on then, I won't stop you." He said, And that was all she needed.

[F/N] took off following the scent almost feverishly, Making her way down the hallways going around turns she finally came across a door.

Her mouth watered. The scent was stronger now, Even more so as she bust open the door.

Juro woke up with a start, The noise of his door slamming open almost off the hinges made him flinch. He got up so he was now sitting on his bed. Maybe another mutilation happened, It was probably his mother informing him so.

But as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see his elder sister leaning against the doorway, He knew that wasn't the case.

"What the hell do you want..? You still mad about last week?" He chuckled lightly, The sleep still permeating his voice.

[F/N] stood in the doorway, Not answering. However her breathing was laboured and she stumbled about, Swaying side to side. Her head was lowered to the ground, Eyeing only the floorboards.

"What's wrong with you?" Juro raised an eyebrow at his sisters movements, It was getting annoying. Waking him up in the middle of the night and she wouldn't even tell him why.

But he suddenly froze once she lifted her head.

Her laboured breathing showed off her teeth, Sharper than normal creating new fangs protruding from her mouth. Her pupils had slimmed and turned into something similar to a cat's, And they were eyeing him like a piece of raw meat.

His sweat dropped, This wasn't normal. Slowly getting out of his bed he made sure to never take his eyes off of her, To make sure she didn't pounce.

"Listen.. [F/N]." He started, His voice shaky and carefully planned.

"I-I'm sorry for what I did.. Okay? I-I shouldn't of treated you like that.. It was wrong, I.. I'm so sorry okay?" He started. His entire form shook, His knees threatening to buckle under the weight of the situation.

She took a step forward, Making him flinch.

"I-I'm sorry! Please don-"

[F/N] lunged forward, Her body knocking into his as they fell to the floor with a thump!

Juro screamed, Loud and high pitched to make sure the rest of the house woke up as he felt [F/N]'s teeth lodge into his neck.

With a tug she pulled her mouth back. A chunk of flesh and muscle tore out from his neck, Making a spray of blood coat the room and [F/N] entirely painting her red.

Juro sobbed. His mental state reducing into that of a child's as he felt his sisters teeth tear at his flesh, Only to greedily shove the meat down her gullet, Pleased at the sweet taste she licked her lips to Juro's horror.

She tore into him, Again and again. Juro felt his limbs be pulled from their sockets and the blood burst from his arteries, Popping like candy and spraying all over the room.

He was barely conscious when the cold sweat of death wash over him.

The last thing he saw was the looming figure of his sister. His severed arm in her mouth and covered in red. Smiling at him, Wide and proud.

And the oncoming figures of the rest of his family in the doorway.

☆♡☆

Downstairs Muzan stood idly in the main room.

He waited for her, Listening intently to the noise thrashing around upstairs. He decided it was best to let [F/N] take care of it herself, She was hungry after all and as a new demon she needed her strength.

However, Muzan's attention was drawn to the main door, Which was flung open letting the cold nights air flood inside.

In the doorway was an older man. A katana around his waist and a yukata over his slayer uniform. Muzan felt the grin tug at his lips, This must of been [F/N]'s father, A slayer at that.

"..Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?!" He exclaimed, Yet his tone contained exhaustion, Obviously tired from a long travel.

"Who am I? I assumed you slayers would know a king when they saw one." Muzan remarked.

The mans eyes widened. The tiredness in his eyes before was now long gone and by now his sword was drawn, Pointing straight at Muzan.

"You.. Muzan Kibutsuji" He said. Despite his brave front, Muzan could see through it. He was terrified.

"There it is.." Muzan drawled, Now turning his full body over towards him. Her father made no move to attack him, Only keeping his sword at head level waiting for Muzan's next move.

"What.. What have you done with my wife, My children." Her father asked, The thought tearing through his mind, Scared of the possibilities.

Muzan entertained him, The fact that he had the guts to speak out in the first place spoke volumes.

But before he could answer, The sound of creaking steps and dragging thumps sounded out behind them, Interrupting their conversation.

The mans attention flipped over behind him. Alternating between Muzan and the unknown threat they both watched intently as the presence reached the bottom of the steps.

The mans eyes widened.

At the bottom of the stairs stood [F/N], Drenched head to toe in blood smelling of brass and iron.

But what she held in both hands, That's what made her father fall to his knees.

In both of her hands she dragged the mangled corpses of his wife and kids, [F/N]'s new strength granting her the capability to do so.

In her right held his wife, The corpse had several parts missing. Limbs, Flesh and organs all in various states of degradation.

In her left was the corpse of his second eldest. He wasn't even recognisable, Only the yukata being of any hint to his identity.

He fell to his knees, The sight seeming to defeat him entirely.

His nichirin katana fell out of his grasp, Slipping out with ease once he laid his hands on the corpses. [F/N] watched on at the scene, Gazing down at the broken mess of a man.

"What the.. No.. No this couldn't.." He choked out, Tears starting to form in his eyes and flow down his face. His wife and kids dead, He wasn't here to protect them, To do his duties as a demon slayer.

He moved his eyes up to the face of the culprit, Recognising her as his eldest disappointment of a daughter.

"You.. You monster.." He whispered, Piercing gaze going right through her like an icepick to the heart.

But [F/N] felt nothing as she looked at him, The haze from her mind lifted long ago at the first taste of her meal. This man for her entire life had been a overhanging figure, A threat to what would happen to her if she stepped out of line. His words were nothing new to her ears.

"..Do you have nothing else to call me, Or are you done?" [F/N] asked. She felt the rush of superiority come over her, She was the one in charge now. Not him.

Her father swallowed the lump in his throat. He had nothing else to say, Only choked sobs came out of his mouth.

[F/N] dropped the cadavers in her arms in favour of walking up to her father. Slowly stopping in front of him, Looking down at his weakened form.

Muzan stood only a few feet away from him, Watching over the events unfolding. He was amused at it, Watching [F/N]'s every move.

She raised her hand high, Her new claws spiking out of her fingernails ready to strike.

All these years of torment, Dejection and disgust funnelled towards her. The harassment and hate. Everything she had been through came down to this.

"Go on, My love." Muzan's voice called out, [F/N] glanced over to him "Finish this."

Muzan Kibutsuji, Her fiancée, Her stalker. He called out to her with that eternally caring voice, That same gentle smile edging her on to finish the deed.

She looked back at him and smiled.

And with a quick slash it was finished, Her father was no more.

His severed head dropped onto the tatami mat, She watched as it bounced a few times before rolling away.

Muzan appeared behind her, Wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You did such a good job, My love." He stated, Kissing the back of her head as he pulled her closer. [F/N] sunk into his hold, The coldness a comfort to her.

"T-Thanks.." She grinned, Fireworks continuing to go off. More so once he move a hand to her legs, Manoeuvring her so she was now being carried bridal style by her now fiancée, Not caring how much blood stained his blouse.

Muzan leaned down and left a small kiss on her lips, To which she returned.

"Are you ready to go now, My love?" Muzan asked.

"Always." [F/N] responded, Stars in her eyes.

Muzan smiled, Pulling her close. He looked up and with the single strum of a biwa, He disappeared into the night, Taking [F/N] with him.

Never to be seen again.

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “The Stars say Hello” — Gojo Satoru

— Word count: 2.1k

—A/n: it wasn’t meant to become long at all- idk what happened.

— Warnings: character death; established relationship; toxic way of dealing with emotions<3 (not proofread!); hurt no comfort(?)

~5 Times Satoru Gojo’s Infinity touched you~

~4 Times you felt it~

The fates were twisted.

Your giggle ran through the hallway, a cheeky grin he held, an annoyed smile adorned you as well.

“Satoru!” A huffed out breath, he’d kept you as is for about an hour now, “What do you want?”

Satoru Gojo was lanky, large hands, larger legs—a huge heart, and an even bigger smile he held.

“So damn impatient, fine, C’mere,” and all to your dismay, a hand grabbed rough, your body was pulled a-front along with himself.

“At least tell me what it is, you god damn-”

“-I learnt something, something new.” A face so bright, painted all so perfectly in his excitement—a smile creeped on your face all the same.

“Finally mastering our a, b, c’s are we?” Your smirk greeted his frown—“haha, you’re so funny,” casual, with his arm stuck on your shoulder.

A shove and an obvious expression.

“Go stand there, and take this,” a bunch of erasers, dull—clean, a mix—hastily shoved into your fist, “Go quicker would you?”

A roll of your eyes, “Yea yea, whatever,”

Your feet dragged along the grass, green, bright?

Did it seem so in the sun or was that afternoon all so amusing?

“Throw em’ at me,”

Your eyes bore at his figure, a brow raised, “you called me here so I could throw shit at you?”

Six eyes, they saw the ticks on your face well.

Six eyes, they saw everything.

“Can you do one job that I tell you-”

Childish banter- paused a moment too slow as you chucked the only, entirely white eraser up at him—and all to your shock, it bounced off.

Silence—then a chuckle, his.

Jaw hanging, eyes narrowed, “Wait- how did you-”

“Pretty cool huh?” The proud smirk only widened now then, “Suguru and I really are the strongest aren’t we?”

Another eraser chucked at him, this time the dirtiest, almost blackened.

“No- how did you,” confounded, you moved—all too quick, right beside him—eyes barred from him, a thin layer—never more far apart you’d stood—infinity against you.

“You can’t even touch me at your will now,” he snickered, the words would faint into the mind of his later—all too late—you can’t even touch him at will now.

No one can.

Proven correct, he stood taller—proud, insatiable, too proud.

More twisted were the tales they crafted.

The night lay lit up by the moon alone—shining upon you, upon him.

“The stars,” you watched his smile, almost as if etched upon his face—you adored it, you adored him.

“What about them?”

His smile faltered, a moment—you noted as always—“They’re a thousand light years away,” a statement, nothing to be added.

A silence blanketed the two of you, the night was warm—Satoru’s body lay cold as ever, yours snuggled into his—lying alone on the hill, simply upon a blanket—together.

The hill that you wanted to die upon, you’d joked often.

“Like almost this far,” you looked up to find his hand outstretched —“touch it,” he snickered.

A small smile you let out, “I swear if it’s-”

“-do it,” Satoru whined, eliciting another grin from you.

“Ok ok, you big baby.”

Your hand stretched out too—to touch his, to hold him- and oh how the infinity kept him safe, kept him away.

A pout rested on your lips as Satoru giggled, “that’s how far they are,”

“You’re so annoying,” and just then, clicked off—as if on a switch, the distance between was gone—to that which tended the infinity was soon engulfed into a hug from satoru to you.

“The stars look pretty tonight,” your words fell to almost deaf ears, his eyes stuck onto all that was above, on to all that was unachievable— to most.

“You look pretty every night,” he added, a soft chuckle, yours and his.

“What do you think is prettier? The moon or…”

The stars.

Not a night went by where you wouldn’t adore the eyes, in the sky and in his eyes.

Pity lay bared, his dimmed and the world only seemed to sparkle more.

“What do you think?”

A sharp inhale, sharper exhale, cerulean eyes looked at you—“I think the stars yearn to be recognised, I think the moon is beautiful but the stars aren’t recognised well enough,”

Head tilted to the side, you stared at him—fingers moving all among themselves, his face cupped now—“I think the moon is like you in every sense,” your words were hushed, scared, maybe?

A lean in from him, you leaned in too—foreheads pressed together then, “Be my star, please? Every and all—please?”

And the next morning, maybe You’d cringe, and chuckle together—all so sappy, but in the moment that played, all so vulnerable Satoru Gojo Sat for you, you swore upon your life that you’d be his, every little star in his skies.

“I think the stars would love you Toru’ —I think they’d love saving their hellos to you someday.”

Thin strands of a lifeline, played with, tampered by the fates all so easy.

“Nanami left,”

Your eyes shot up, the knife that chopped onions for dinner — it was Satoru’s birthday.

“Oh,” you mumbled, frown on your lips—“left for wh-”

“Left. He’s left Jujutsu, said he can’t deal with it—what an idiot,” the scoff was well heard, your heart thumped, visibly upset Satoru lay.

“Right,” you mumbled up again, “is there no way we could- we could con- convince him maybe?” Unsure you words hung, another scoff—an eye roll from satoru, your jaw clenched.

“I- I get you’re upset Toru’ but- you know, there are still many of us-”

“-shut up please.”

Silence.

Not the usual, not the warm kind—it pierced, your heart lay in its own shambles.

You stared at Satoru, not even apologetic, you wanted to cry.

The words and the meaning was clear, he didn’t want to hear you talk—but to a saddened mind, little solace do facts ever offer, right?

The flame dimmed—not yours, the sauce you were preparing, let down to thicken, while you moved slow—all towards him.

“I’m sorry, I- I just…I get it,” you swallowed hard, eyes narrowing at the cruel chuckle he let out.

“That’s where you’re wrong aren’t you?” Almost a cackle, it hurt to hear him.

Not a single word that you could offer, “You don’t get it, none of you do—you’ve never had people leave you like- like I’ve seen them-”

A hefty halt—“you’ve not experienced it—You didn’t see Suguru leave, you’re- you’re too,” his words hung. You didn’t want him to complete them.

Rest of his words were a blur, you stood shaky.

The distinction was obvious, apparent—breaking.

Satoru Gojo wasn’t like you at all, not since his infinity had bloomed—you stared at him as he got up and left, you hadn’t touched him to solace him, he hadn’t seen the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

Satoru and you never fought, when you did, you made it your responsibility to take in his harsh words, he didn’t know better—it was sad, he needed outlet.

It wasn’t healthy- you loved him.

It wasn’t healthy—satoru would apologise later.

It wasn’t healthy, your sauce, your dish had burnt.

Analogous.

It wasn’t healthy, you hadn’t touched but you knew his infinity was around—you knew a touch would’ve proved you right, would’ve pushed you all too far.

Braided once, the fates kept many a lives in-twined, for better or worse.

“We’re over,” a whisper- his.

“We’re over,” a mumble- yours.

Satoru Gojo cried of everyone leaving and yet, right in the hallway of the dorms he confessed to you as a student—exactly there he broke it off, this time as a teacher.

You’d not dared to question him, how could you? Gojo Satoru the ever right, if he said you were over then maybe you were.

Maybe the lost fingers of yours, maybe the empty carcass of an embrace that you yearned-maybe that was all false, pseudo.

The human brain was pertained to all that could be rigged—emotions an easy target.

So there you lay, bed empty—the bed sheet white, the duvet black—the ceilings tall and your closest a short. The bed sheets still smelled of him, you knew you’d get rid of it all.

A calm quiet settled over you, grief you’d heard, did that to people.

Holding onto that, which simply wasn’t yours.

A week since Satoru had proclaimed, so easy he’d made it seem—like second nature he’d mumbled “I love you” weeks ago, like second nature he said he was done.

And you wondered then, as the silence whistled through your ears, storm that was your emotions, if he’d ever actually cared.

That he had, Satoru Gojo always cared a lot.

That was his weakness—he supposed, you knew better.

His weakness was all that was his heart.

Too tricky, too hurt, dampening in its decisions.

His six eyes saw everything-as they had always, your tears he’d known, your misery he’d heard—to break up, solace to his heart.

As you lay alone, a thought propped in—silly thoughts, so erratic, to all that was destroyed of humanity was caused of erratic thoughts, spontaneity lay at fault.

From the first “I love you” mumbled against your hand, you were injured, Satoru was scared—a profession of his first love.

To all the many “I love you”s he let out- from in midst of lessons to practise and then when he made love to you for the first time—from then on to waking up beside him, the frequency rose and then fell.

Warm beds got cold when he couldn’t even wake up beside you, “I love you”s on call turned to ily on messages- to gn or gm and then, delivered.

To what was a silhouette of your love in the living room—the sun reflected through merrily, it was all but a shadow of you grabbing water from the kitchen as the moon shone through.

Satoru Gojo hadn’t turned on his infinity against you this time around but there was no need- before the separation the distances lay weeded out—before the separation, you already felt infinitely broken.

Merry, the fates are I suppose- as they cut off the strands one by one, cackling at the aftermath which was all rubble.

Blood, dust and death.

Yours.

An year since the break up, that didn’t matter, you loved him and him, you.

Opportunities lay bare, time, not quite so.

You thought of him, a lot, obsessively—incessantly, a maddening hunger yours—Satoru Gojo, the man people hoped for.

You yearned for him, you lived for him.

Until, you couldn’t.

“Y/n?” His voice was rough—shaky, uncontrolled, the night shone upon your dusted form in the night.

A weak whimper responded him, jaw clenched he walked into the rubble—“y/n? I-” words caught up, mouth dry, Satoru Gojo stood alone, rendered speechless.

“Toru’?” Your voice was so weak, he wanted to scold you for even bothering to speak—a choked gasp you let out as he knelt beside you—“pppplease,” you sobbed and oh how it broke his heart, “save me?”

Satoru wanted to cry—and he did, visible all to you, the moon shone on him perfectly as always

Satoru Gojo cried for of all the times he could’ve saved those who didn’t want to be saved, his tragedy lay at your feet—someone he just couldn’t.

“Shhh,” he mumbled, “shh, shh—you’ll be alright, don’t gotta be a crybaby about it yeah?”

A mindless nod you passed, well aware of his lies woven all so perfectly.

“I’m dying Toru’” you mused, warning yourself a dry chuckle—all so strange it stuck to him, Satoru had watched many deaths, yours? Not even his dreams dared so.

“Oh are you now? How can you tell?” He snapped back, another chuckle you let out—your last, together.

It was the same hill you’d spent hours in the night—another hour went by, your last—his last upon that hill too, perhaps.

“Don’t cry for me,”

“I’m not a god,”

That was true, Satoru Gojo, through all his strengths was, but a human.

Major fault? He could love—and he lost.

In that moment, his six eyes saw it all—the last of your breaths slipping away, his arms open wide for you—your quickening pace, “the moon looks pretty tonight,”

A tear rolled down his cheek, a smile you wore, your words heavy, “I’m not leaving you Toru’” your fingers moved weak—not strong enough to cup his face this time—so you stroked his hand—“I’ll be there with you,” his eyes followed yours, towards the stars.

“I’ll make sure the stars say their hellos to you,”

Gone.

In the way—away from him.

You didn’t know then, Satoru Gojo and his infinity did, the both lay scarred—you didn’t know but in the last moment of your life with him, Satoru’s infinity engulfed you whole—you didn’t feel it then, but as the world broke out around you, a haven Satoru had offered you.

All of this work is entirely original and my own please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[fluff-n-cookies]

Hey!! I was wondering if you are taking requests.

If you are, then. Couln you please write and Father Aizawa x daughter in which she is like really really depressed and he is sick worried for her?

Thankss 🤍🤍

Hello! thx for requesting! I'm not sure if you wanted a little story like a drabble or headcanons so I'm just going to default to do a mix of both. I also wrote it with clinical depression in mind I hope that's okay.

TW; clinical depression, angsty shit, I wrote about the symptoms of depression here: if you have multiple of these symptoms please consider getting diagnosed by a doctor. Aizawa had depression, fem reader.

Aizawa never was good with emotions, he was never the one to express his feelings because he never exactly needed to. Aizawa wouldn't exactly talk to her at first, instead opting to see it as her having an off day.

however, the weeks flew by and he saw less and less of her around the dorms, her friends who once talked to forever never seemed to see her anymore, and her smile. her smile had now been replaced with dead eyes and a soul corrupt.

another week, when disrupted she would bite back. her usual reply to the question "how are you today?" was once "wonderfully really!" about now it was either a comment overflowing with sarcasm or a harsh "leave me alone."

she then start to bounce her leg a lot more, scratch her arms, and doom-scroll on her phone like a life line rather than train to be a hero like she would during her previous years at UA or read her favorite book genres.

and the dead look in her eyes told him everything.

he too had that look in his eyes in his life too.

he had the tattoo of a semicolon with a heart to show for it.

it was the dead of night when he finally approached her, the sun had set and the stars that night felt as dull as her mind. the blinding white lights of the kitchen remain on as she wept amongst her sorrows. sleep deprived eyes turned redder than they already are from the sting of her never ending tears.

she did not deserve this.

the air was cold in that room, clammy hands shaking didn't help much either.

Aizawa said nothing when he saw the slight before him,

he had done the same at one point too.

this situation was delicate glass, for the person before him was not the strong girl he "knew". this was the soft, misshapen, confused, and scared blob that no longer had the hard and heavy armor to protect her.

he wanted nothing more to hug her when she looked at him with scared eyes and a tear stained cheeks.

"Aizawa Sensei I-" she started, the voice cracks made it all the more pitiful.

"I came to get water." his voice unwavering, there was only room for one mentally unstable person in that tiny kitchen and he loved her too much to take the position of being the one crying.

he felt bad, he knew that feeling of either being empty or being overridden with that burden in your heart you don't know the name of. a constant reminder of doom that has your heart in a choke hold.

but this was still as fragile as anything.

he poured himself a glass of water,

the tension was thick and odd.

he sat down,

he could practically feel the labored breaths she took, the shaking, the empty feeling in her chest. like she was dying and from the inside out. the crying must have taken a toll on her too for her cheeks were red from the tears.

he sat next to her, sitting in front of her may make her feel like he was going to scold her.

"would you like to talk about it?"

"...please... no... I don't think I can..." it was hard to believe this was the voice of the girl he remembered so fondly as his favorite student.

I suppose even the moon has a dark side.

"okay, you need to though." voice steady like a rock you trust never to crumble.

"what?" her voice quivering.

"It know it's hard,

I know it's going to take a while,

but you can succeed,

just please let me help you."

the room went silent for a moment, he passed you the glass of water.

"drink, tomorrow, you are spending your day with Hound Dog, you don't have to talk with him about this specifically, just talk with him until we can understand what is actually happening. you need someone to talk to. you can bail at anytime."

"what is happening to me though? I- I don't know anymore."

he knew that feeling so well.

"I'm not entirely sure," those words came from his heart. "but I'm willing to help you through it. we can take you to a psychiatrist to know for sure."

"...okay."

Aizawa got up, pushing the glass towards you again, excessive crying often leads to dehydration. and he started doing what his mother would do, he started prepping fruits, in this case it was oranges. he lined them all up on a plate, smiling a little at the thought of waking up from a nightmare as a child and defaulting to devouring blueberries.

he put them in front of you, started speaking as a usual person would, about stupid criminals he had recently put behind bars and crazy super fans that created elaborate photo shopped photos of him and them for social media.

for the first time in a while

the phrase

"are you okay?"

wasn't even mentioned.

for the first time in a while

she felt human.

----------

edit: while writing this I noticed I had a lot of the symptoms, so I went to the doctor and turns out it wasn't just burn out it was severe depression! and asthma apparently...

[jewishrat420]

Steve always thought Eddie was beautiful.

He never let himself linger too long on it in fear of what he might see if he let himself look. If he let himself dust off the dirt that lay on top of it, too overwhelmed by the possibility that he really hadn’t had himself figured out the way he thought he did.

But it’s true.

Like the sky knows clouds that filter in and out of eyesight, like the moon knows the unwavering devotion of the tide, Steve knows this to be a fact as irrefutable as the nature of gravity:

Eddie Munson is beautiful.

It’s in the way his hair bounces with every step. These springy, frizzy little curls that Steve desperately wants to know, intimately, the way he knows his own. Wants to compare them, wants to feel them in the spaces between his fingers, the sensitive parts that nothing else really touches.

It’s in the way he lights up a room as soon as he steps into it, a walking sun that burns so bright that he leaves the hole of every space he was once in great and gaping and singed at the edges. Everything he touches turns to gold, everyone he meets ruined for anyone else.

It’s in the way he carries himself. Tall when people are looking and small when they aren’t, like his body is a show that no one ever willingly buys tickets for but ends up seated front row at regardless.

Steve would buy tickets.

If he had known, if he had been brave enough when it really counted, he would have bought tickets.

There is no one like Eddie, and there never will be again.

But it doesn’t matter now.

Because Eddie is still beautiful, Steve thinks, even when he’s pale.

Even when his skin is sallow and sunken, even when his big brown eyes are tucked behind grayed eyelids.

Even when Steve himself was the one to shut them, but only after he spent nearly an hour gazing into their emptiness.

His hair is shorter now, the frayed edges trimmed by Wayne. He’d laughed as he did it, a sad little hitch in his throat, because apparently Eddie never let him cut his hair when he was younger.

When his blood flowed warm through his arteries, when his skin was still pink.

Wayne said he used to bounce his leg so hard that he was worried he was going to stab the scissors right through his thick skull.

So Eddie grew his hair out, split ends running wild.

But Steve still thought he was beautiful. Frizzy hair and all.

Steve’s never seen him dressed so fancy, not even for his own graduation.

But then again, he never got to try on that suit he borrowed from Wayne. Never got to see just how long the sleeves were, because he never got to be as tall as his uncle, did he?

No, Eddie never got the chance.

Never got the chance to he a normal boy with a normal childhood. To grow into the man he could have become and then into the world that was always too small to fit him.

Eddie Munson: born to die in Hawkins, Indiana.

If only he had tried just a little bit harder.

Fought just a little bit longer.

But he did his best, didn’t he?

Steve certainly thinks so.

Steve thinks he looks beautiful, now, still, always. He tucks a trimmed curl behind his ear, wishes he could have known what it would feel like if his skin were warm.

But it’s okay. He’ll know the feeling one day.

Next time.

Next time, they’ll try again. They’ll try harder.

Next time, Steve won’t be afraid to tell Eddie how beautiful he is.

Won’t be afraid of what comes after, because it will be different.

It won’t end with Eddie, sallow and skinny in a suit six sizes too big for him.

It won’t end with Eddie, pale and pretty as ever, laying in the coffin that’s been on reserve for him since the day he was born.

Next time will be different, see, because it won’t end.

They’ll do it right.

Steve will do it right.

And Eddie will still be beautiful, and Steve will tell him so.

x

original post

[lunarmoves]

dappled sunlight filters its way through the thin curtains of the window by the kitchen sink, warming your hands as you rinse off a few spoons. a pot set on the stove bubbles away with a soup you’d prepped not long ago, a savory smell saturating the air. your phone plays a gentle melody that you find yourself humming along to, lost to your thoughts with nothing to distract you from them. 

well—temporarily, that is. 

a light weight rests atop your head and you’re loathe to admit it makes you jump a little before you register golden hands coming up behind you. snaking under your arms so they can rest on the edge of the sink and tap gently away. 

“are you done yet?” sun asks, a tinge of impatience lining his voice. his voice cracks through the gentle atmosphere of the kitchen like a bolt of electricity. it makes a wry smile tug at your lips. wherever sun goes, exuberance is sure to follow.

you chuckle. “almost. soup’s just gotta simmer for a few more minutes. did you pick out a movie?” 

“ages ago,” he groans, his head shifting to instead nestle itself on your shoulder. one of his rays pokes you in the neck slightly before he retracts it. he watches you run a sponge over one of your kitchen knives. “moon thinks you’ll like it. it’s one of those comedy horror movies. willy’s wonderland?” 

“sounds fun," you say lightly. the knife gets rinsed off before you set it into the nearby dish rack. and before you can even wipe off your hands, sun suddenly wraps his arms around your midsection and pulls you backwards away from the sink. it's a movement so fluid yet jarring that you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes your lips. "sun! i said a few more minutes!"

"and a few minutes is all we need!" sun declares dramatically as he spins around a few times with you, aimless in his direction and unrelenting in his persistence.

you can't help the silly grin that spreads across your face, your movements limited as sun traps you against the front of his chest. he twirls around the little kitchen space, narrowly avoiding the counters' edges. it makes you giggle to yourself, dizziness lightly brushing itself against your senses. his hands eventually move to rotate your body around so that you're properly facing him. he wraps one arm around your lower back and grasps at your free hand with his other one in a gesture that makes your heart traitorously skip a beat.

you are tucked into his lithe body, the crown of your head barely reaching the center of his chest. he takes advantage of his height to trap you there, both your bodies pressed together like two pieces from the same puzzle. his warm arm holds onto you tightly—steadfastly. his grip on your hand is unwilling to let go for even the smallest of moments.

you manage to crane your head back to look at him and the wide grin taking up the lower portion of his face. something mischievous sparks within his white optics—where you can just faintly see his ringed pupils. "what are you doing?" your voice is bright and breathless with your laughter.

"isn't it obvious, my dear?" his smile widens as his head twitches slightly to the side. you can see his pupils dart over to the counter where your phone lays and it finally registers in your head that an upbeat song has started playing from its speakers. "we are! dancing! do try to keep up!"

that is all the warning you get before he absolutely sweeps you away. he leads you in a swing-style dance, rocking the two of you side to side in swooping gestures that has your heart bouncing all over your chest. you laugh and shriek when he gets a bit too close to the stove or a sharp corner, but he's quick on his feet and spins the two of you away in deliberate steps.

you can hear the click-click-click of his rays spinning and extending from his face plate, feel the gentle vibration of his voice box as he laughs alongside you. he croons out the words of the song in your ear and it makes the apples of your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling.

you are not able to keep up with his rapid footsteps—his long legs make him easily able to overtake your own. you stumble and trip a few times, saved only by the tightness of his grip, until he eventually just squats down slightly and tightens his hold across your lower back. you are given not a single warning and you yelp as he lifts you up. your feet dangle off the ground as he hoists you so that your face is level with his own and your chests press together like they could become one. effortlessly and with not an ounce of hesitation.

he takes control completely with this new position and you are forced to simply let yourself be swung about like some kind of doll or stuffed animal as he prances and spins around your apartment. his face presses itself in the crook of your neck, eyes upturned into crescents and his smile bright enough to rival the, well, actual sun.

"sun, the soup! the soup!" you eventually manage to get out between loud laughs, the hand you have wrapped around his shoulders patting him rapidly. you nearly forgot in the whirlwind that sun is, only reminded after you caught a glimpse of the kitchen doorway when sun spun the right way in your living room. your stomach has started to ache and you know if you don't calm yourself down soon it will become unbearable as all extended bouts of laughter do.

"fret not! it has already been turned off!" sun says cheerily as he rocks side to side, making his way around the small coffee table positioned in the center of the living room. the glow of sunlight shimmering through your open windows causes him to be bathed in gold—like he has been touched by midas' hand. and it is utterly gorgeous.

"when did you do that?!" you ask breathlessly, moving to press your cheek against his face plate. it's cool against your skin that has warmed from all the prior movement. sun doesn't mind the contact if his spinning rays are any indication.

in lieu of a response, he only offers you a wink and a stretch of his smile in a sly grin. you huff out some more laughter that turns into a giddy, high-pitched sound when a new song starts playing and sun goes off again with replenished fervor. shouting the words and jumping about with you in his tenderly-tucked hold.

and well... by the time sun's had his fill of dancing and you've had enough of the dizzying twirls and aching laughs, the soup has long gone cold. you can't bring yourself to be upset about it.

[cookie-crumblr]

Red Lily Down

GN! Reader x Bunny Hybrid Harem

Part 2~

Introductions

Their Info: 💐🐰✨

Part: 1 2 3

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, GN! Reader, No pronouns used for reader, no genitalia descriptions mentioned for reader, bunny hybrid reader/mostly all of the harem is an animal hybrid of some kind, NSFW: sexual themes all throughout, every named character wants you, non con touching, smut, no sex yet! Reader gets called beautiful and pretty(u r), real furs, non con stripping, non con pet play, imprisonment, dark spooky forest,

Disclaimer: This harem’s theme is based off of a mix of Roots of Pacha and Watership Down. Not intended to represent any real or specific person/time/place/ or culture!

You aren’t just gonna lie down and let Aster win.

Definitely not!

You decide to go scout possible foraging locations. It’s starting to become dusky, however. You forget how fast night actually falls, once the sun starts going down.

The moon and billions of stars light your way, bouncing off of the shining leaves of the canopy above you. Thankfully, you aren’t lost, but you’re a little bit more scared than you’d like to admit.

You see the flickering light of a small fire ahead of you a ways, but it’s the opposite direction of the warren.

Eventually you step out of the brush into a small clearing where you find, August’s wagon!

“Why hello there,” a voice carried on a little breeze made just for you, graces your ear. You spin to face a fancy looking bunny guy with two toned hair.

“Hiya, August!”

“I brought you something really special tonight…” He goes to rummage around in a trunk on the back of the wagon. He’s always bringing you such elaborate treasures. You try and peer over his shoulder, but he blocks you just like always.

“Everything you bring me is special!” you roll on the balls of your feet, deciding to face away from him and respect the surprise. Not too soon later you feel warm arms wrapping around you. “Wha—”

His hands gently encase you, and his head rests on your shoulder.

“Let me take you away from here… I can show you life away from the warrens.” His voice is soothing, but is that something you want? “Here, it’s too late tonight, I’ll take you back home.”

“No way, August! It’s not that far.” You laugh.

“Only if you’re sure, Y/n, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He slowly let’s you go and pats you on the head.

You’re in your own little world when it happens.

Thinking to yourself about your options…

It appears you have a lot.

All of a sudden, a burlap bag comes over your head, it scratches your ear, and you yelp out with more than just surprise!

You hear mumbled chatting but can’t make out any full sentences, when…

*WHACK*

Darkness-

“Mmmf… My head…” You’re dizzy and your head is pounding. It feels as though your skull is in the jaws of a tiger.

“Ahh, you’re awake, good.” A ginormous white rabbit hybrid man sits beside you on a massive bed. He’s intimidating to say the least, and you audibly gulp, mouth dry. “Here, you need fluid.” He holds a clay cup to your lips and has you drink.

Your headache is already subsiding, “Thanks…” Your voice is quiet. “Where… Um…”

“You’re home. I am Hellebore. You are my mate and you will rule over this warren with me.” He speaks as though his words are law.

“Wha—” You notice the bed is covered in soft… Furs… Your eyes widen in horror. Your warren doesn’t kill anything so you aren’t accustomed to it. His loincloth is leather too. And now you’re looking at his crotch… His length isn’t even hard and you can still see the sheer size of it.

“Good. You’re understanding your situation, my little mate.” He brushes your hair from your face and runs his fingers down the side of your jaw, then under your chin. “You are so beautiful,” His ear flicks, and he sighs, “I have to go for now, I will see you again soon.”

You’re left to cool off on your own… Gods, today has been so long! You think about resting your eyes… But you’re way too nervous for when Hellebore will return.

“H-hello…”

You shoot up. “Who’s there!?”

“S-sorry! M-my names Dandelion! I’m h-here to help y-you escape” She squeaks it all out hurriedly.

“Why?” You narrow your eyes, she’s standing in the doorway looking around frantically, she doesn’t seem like she’s lying, but why’s she helping you?

“Y-you’re r-really c-cute!” She blushes.

“Aww!” she’s so adorable! your own face is warm, you bound over to her, immediately forgetting the world just to hold her hand.

You do, you take her soft hand in yours and kiss it, “My hero, let’s go!”

Her face is a blaze of red, smoke would probably be flying out of this poor bunny girl’s lopped ears! You have to take mercy on her for now. She looks like she can only handle so much at a time.

She pulls you along through a pathway in the trees when that feeling of being watched hits you again, this time however, it’s too late to be any help.

Your ankle snags in something, it hurts but not too badly. It’s some type of snare you think, but it’s too dark to see.

“There’s that pretty bunny I’ve been hunting”

“AHHH!!!” Dandelion screams “I’ll get help! I promise!!” She runs, her fluffy lil tail flailing up and down. You trust her.

This human man completely either didn’t hear her, or is just disregarding her. Either way, you already feel frozen and small, and like talking to him would be pointless.

“No bitin’ now, I’m only getting this off,”

“Why would I bite you?” You think he might be deaf, he doesn’t seem to have heard you. “Woah!” Your equilibrium shifts as he hoists you up into his huge arms. He sets you on one arm as if it’s a chair made just for you. You feel a little bashful, but, “Where are you taking me?”

Still he ignores you.

You decide to shift and get more comfortable for the ride rather than waste anymore breath.

“We’re here,” He pulls back a branch, revealing a beautiful clearing filled with white moonlight. There’s even a waterfall behind his cabin! You kinda want to jump in, but it looks a little scary too. “Now, what to call you,”

“You can call me, Y/n.” You fold your arms, there’s no way he’s deaf. He’s pretending he can’t hear you!

“How about I just call you, Bunny, for now…” It’s not a question. You end up with a straight face, already fed up with this human man and his weird shenanigans.

“I’m a hybrid. I’m not a full bunny, ya know,” You say.

“You make such cute little sounds, Bunny.” After he hangs up his thick brown fur coat, he approaches you, looking into your eyes fully.

You feel scared suddenly, like he’s finally actually seeing you. But you’re completely exposed.

“I’ll be right back,” He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your face up to look at him.

When he returns he picks you back up, you hold onto his arm, it’s so thick, you wonder for a second what the rest of him is like…

“Bath time, little Bunny,” He pulls at your top, you try to hold it down and end up huddled in the cold dirt.

“D-don’t!” He pays your plea no mind.

Huge calloused hands squeeze your thighs, and pull down fabric from your skin. Some of it tickles madly, some of it feels too rough to bare.

Soon your stripped completely naked, and covering yourself with your hands and legs. For a second you think you can see red adorning his cheeks. You willingly climb in the fire heated bath.

He takes a sponge, and washes your body, thankfully not spending too much time in any one place.

He puts you in a cotton shirt that’s baggy and soft, before carrying you once again. This time he drops you off in a hutch. Possibly the most cruel and inhumane thing you could ever think to be put into.

“No way. You can stop now!” You grab onto the bars and try to pull on them.

He ignores you and goes back inside.

“LET ME OUT!!” You keep screaming until you hear something in the brush on the edge of the clearing. “Hello…?” You peep.

“Hello…” Possibly the deepest voice you’ve ever heard echos you…

“Um… I’m uh… Stuck… C-could you… h-help?” Your heart pounds in your long, fuzzy ears. You swallow painfully while you wait for seconds of absolute silence for the man to do anything at all.

Footsteps crunch through the pine needles.

You behold him as he steps into the moonlight, a gorgeously rugged wolf man. More rough around the edges than even Winter. You watch him wide eyed, as he unlocks the hutch.

He grabs hold of your waist and hoists you out.

“You should follow me. ‘s not safe.” He doesn’t talk much you can already safely assume. Instinct takes over and you grab his hand. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t hold your hand back.

You almost want to thank him, it’s so late now that you know predators are just lurking around every dark corner… Predators like big dark wolf men in the middle of the dark forests, but you don’t think of that, do you?

He takes you into a lively and bustling wolf pack. They’re dancing around a big bonfire in the middle of the tribe.

“Safe. Sleep.” He says, and lays down on a fur covered slab of rock with his back to you.

It’s not as comfy as what you’re used to at all… but you manage to sleep for a little while at least.

“I’m here for them.” a deep woman’s voice rings out like a beautiful and slow song.

You open your eyes and it’s even darker out now.

It’s Gloria! The chief of your sister warren. She’s gorgeous, as tall as Hellebore, too! You practically drool as you imagine her stepping on you. You jump up and excitedly rush over to her.

She smiles when she sees you. “Ah, it’s wonderful that you’re alright, darling. Now, come.”

You follow her all the way to your home. She takes your face in her hands once inside your canvas walls.

“I… Was worried. I’m going to discuss treaties with the woods tomorrow. You’ll be able to go where you wish.” She kisses your cheek and runs her finger down your jaw. A sigh leaves her plump lips, “You’ll thank me next time. I unfortunately have to go for now my sweet little darling.” You hug goodbye.

Your body burns.

You’re beyond exhausted as you trudge your way through the warren. It’s so quiet and creepy, but the gentle snoring wafting out of the open windows all around comforts you. It was really a very short walk.

“Y/n?” Azure yawns…