yukinohiko

[yukinohiko]

feat. itoshi sae (kind of) (with rin) cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, coraline-ish au, pt 1 here, pt 2 here

"You genuinely don't think there's anything is wrong with him?"

The dish in your hand, covered with soap and suds, threatens to slip from your grasp when Rin's sarcastic voice registers in your mind. It's been a lingering thought, barely there in the back of your mind—you just didn't think anyone else thought of it.

The water feels colder and thicker on your skin as it runs, viscous and slimy. Despite such, you continue washing the dishes anyway.

Rin is here to visit the home you and Sae share. You think it looks more vibrant since the day he had returned, the colors of the wall less paled and the decorations actually serving more like pleasant eye candy rather than merely collecting dust. The world in general gleams brighter.

The only person that doesn't seem to be as saturated is Rin. He still holds that empty, muted look in his eye, the one that Sae mirrored in beholding prior to his brief absence. A semblance of the past that he can't let go.

"Who, Sae?" you ask with faux coy.

"Don't play dumb," Rin mutters. It's less of a hiss and more of a plea; you think there's a ghost of a "please" hanging onto his words somewhere. "He's been weird since he got back from wherever the fuck he was. You know it. I know it."

You stay quiet for awhile, letting the water run and the dishes tinker. "In what way?"

"He's... nicer," Rin has trouble getting the word out. "And softer. That's not nii-chan."

A dry chuckle slips past your equally dry lips. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Because it is," the younger Itoshi bites. "Nii-chan isn't nice. At least not this nice."

"Rin," you say quietly as you dry your hands, turning to face him with a desolate look. "I don't think we should focus on that as much as what exactly happened."

"No, I think we should, actually," he takes a step forward to you. His height looms over you in an attempt to close you in, to come face to face with reality and to stop living in this odd delusion of Sae being nice. "It's weird and I don't like it. Something or someone must've messed him up because he's not the nii-chan I know."

"You're saying you want the old Sae back? The one who would hurl insults at you left and right? The one who made your name synonymous with 'lukewarm'?" you dispute with a knit in your brow. "That Sae?"

Rin's reply is swift. It's equally as assured.

"Yes," he narrows his eyes at you, the teal in them strikingly vivid against Rin's pale skin and monochromatic clothes. "Because that's the Sae i've grown up with. The one who I know and who knows me."

You fall into an uncomfortable silence, trying to find a refute that never comes.

"Ochazuke," Rin says suddenly, breaking through the quiet. "He forgot my favorite food that hasn't changed since I was a kid was ochazuke. When we went out the other day."

Rin turns on his heel, his footsteps drag as he begins to exit the kitchen to leave you as you were. You didn't want him to be in it, but you don't want him to leave you alone—alone with your thoughts and whatever else may come.

Just before he steps out of it, Rin looks back at you with a despondent look. Heavy and almost defeated.

"If that's of any concern to you, at all."

---

Another pair of eyes watches as Rin promptly leaves the room from behind a dusty looking glass. Also teal. Also sharp in their gaze.

Sae feels his lips quirk up slightly when he watches you throw the dish towel to the floor, irritation plastered on your face as you rub your aching temple. You're back to your contemplations again, right where he needs you to be.

"Ochazuke," Sae murmurs, "with sea bream."

[yukinohiko]

something about sae on date nights. the winter wind nips at you, flushing your cheeks and tousling your hair. sae’s eyes glint like the stars when he glances back at where you’ve fallen a step or two behind.

“okay?”

“yeah, I’m fine.” you manage a faint smile, though your heels throb. the shoes you wear are glossy, black, patented with a brand he’d brought home from madrid after his last overseas game.

as lovely as they look, fitted around your feet and ankles, walking over ice and snow in them is far from ideal. your pace had slowed down since you’d both left the restaurant to walk to the parking lot.

sae raises an eyebrow. “you’re sure?”

“mhm.”

he huffs softly, something like exasperation and fondness at once. he returns to your side, crouching on one knee. you startle, starting to protest about the cold and his suit pants, though he focuses instead on your leg.

“do they hurt?” he murmurs, tenderly cupping your ankle. “the shoes, I mean. you’re limping.”

“they fit fine.”

“I know they do.” he knows your sizing, after all. “but that’s not what I asked.”

you bite your lip and he looks up at you. he seems paler in the february cold, you notice, having lost the tan he’d gotten during summer months in europe. but it’s nice, you think. his cheeks are pink like the roses waiting in the car, his eyes somehow greener than the northern lights above.

“a little bit,” you breathe. “it’s just the walking. but it’s not too far now.”

he hums, as if in thought. “you’re right, it’s not too far to the car.”

“right. so I’m fine to hobble a little further —”

you cut your joke off when you feel his hands glide up your leg as he straightens up, standing. your heart seizes in your chest before it beats with a lusher rhythm.

“sae?”

“not too far,” he says again. before you can question him, his arm winds around your waist, the other under your knees. a soft sound escapes you as he lifts you seamlessly, cradling you close to his chest so you’re against the warmth of his coat.

“sae,” you say again, if only to vocalize your surprise.

his lips quirk in vague amusement as he continues walking to the lot. a light flurry of snowflakes fall around you, hazing the moment into something tender, intimate. you breathe in his cologne, tucking your face closer to his neck where the coat is unbuttoned.

“it’s unnecessary,” you say quietly, with absolutely no intention of truly fighting him.

“most things are.”

“it’s not too far, either way.”

“it isn’t, you’re right.”

“so put me down,” you whisper.

he meets your gaze for a moment. you feel the lightest brush of his lips against your temples; snowflakes melting under the heat of his kiss.

“not a chance.”

[yukinohiko]

“come back to bed darling—”

“dal… you know i have a mission soon.” the hunter sighed fondly, walking back to the actress.“you know i’d love to stay longer … especially tonight, but i must follow elio’s script.”

the actress pouted. “i don’t think i like elio.”

a soft laugh escaped the hunter’s lips. “and why, pray tell?”

“he takes you away from me too often, my brilliant sunshine.” the actress reached a hand up to caress her face.

the hunter’s heart swelled. “rest assured, my lovely dahlia … we’ll have all the time in the world soon enough.”

MANY MANY MANYYYY THANKS TO @cewwart FOR THIS GORGEOUS COMM 🥹🤍🤍 uwah i wanna frame it on my wall ueueue

DO NOT SAVE PLS + TY

[yukinohiko]

I just realized I never posted my full piece for @meriwether-zine ! Unfortunately I think leftover sales are already over, but it was a pleasure to work with them and I’m really proud of this short comic :)

More notes on this in the read more!

The Meriwether Zine was focused on the anemo boys in modern AU settings, so my comic was a concept for a Spy x Family-esque secret identity AU with the Inazuma trio.

By day, Wanderer is a college student. He tutors a middle schooler who seems to know a lot more than she should, named Nahida. By night, he is the information broker Buer’s assistant.

By day, Kazuha works in a tea shop. He frequents a specific alleyway very often, where a stray cat always greets him. By night, he’s a member of the Cruz Fleet, a gang led by Beidou.

By day, Heizou is an investigative journalist, and he is actually hired to do this, but he’s nosy, and has good intuition, and the police have gotten so used to working with him that he has his own badge and everything.

Of the three of them, only Heizou knows their secret identities.

I do really enjoy this concept! I don’t know if I’ll draw more for it though since it’s been quite while.

[yukinohiko]

[yukinohiko]

mutuals (and anyone who sees this really) who write fanfic!!! i have a question!!! what would be the best piece of advice you’d give to someone trying to improve their writing? :’3

[yukinohiko]

gk

[yukinohiko]

i think sae itoshi wears the softest cashmere sweaters wah…. you can see the outline of his chest through them and also his biceps whenever he crosses his arms… sighs with that practiced sort of indifference when you coo over how soft the sweater is and nuzzle into him, but the way his hand immediately comes up to cradle the back of your head speaks his quiet fondness for you :3

[yukinohiko]

Me right now

I’m literally out here while a fan is blowing on me

[yukinohiko]

something about lovesick sae. it’s unfamiliar to him. this feeling of weightlessness and crushing desire that simultaneously squeezes his heart into beats that would make his physiologist fear cardiac arrest.

you wouldn’t know it, of course. to you, your boyfriend is only standing by the doorway of the living room, looking a little too keenly in your direction. you wonder if you’ve got a blemish or a spot of cream from dessert on your face.

“sae? what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he says. blandly. tonelessly.

so really, who could blame you for having no clue what you were doing to his poor heart?

you hum and pat the couch seat beside you invitingly. he stares, the afternoon light making his eyes glint like seaglass. and he does join you on the couch, though not beside you, rather scooping you up and placing you on his lap.

“sae—”

“don’t complain.” he says it impassively, tucking loose strands behind your ear, cupping your nape with his other hand as though to support you in the position he’s put you in. “you smell different.”

“hmm? it might be my new perfume.”

he tucks his face against your neck, and you can feel his breath. he murmurs, “perfume?”

“strawberries and vanilla,” you say, breathier in the intimacy he’s created between you. you would squirm, if it weren’t for his arm around your waist keeping you nestled close. “I have three others I’m considering.”

“this alone feels like too much.”

before you can rise to argue, his lips are already on your throat. your jaw. his heart is squeezing in his chest. it only feels right, he thinks, to make you feel a fraction of what you do to him. to crush you close, love you, show you everything he can’t say.

[yukinohiko]

lovesick sae in My Mind

[yukinohiko]

kissing sae starts off as something precise. almost clinically calculating. he holds your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. tilts his head and gauges angles. it becomes something more. less about discovery by trial, more about understanding by instinct. by touch and sound and feeling. it becomes softer and warmer. his eyes flutter shut, but just before they did, you see how his pupils have dilated, and maybe it’s just the light from the window or your own love-drunk state, but you could swear they were pulsating in the shapes of hearts

[yukinohiko]

fool's hope

[yukinohiko]

plush

[yukinohiko]

[yukinohiko]

"JUNE 19. It is almost midsummer, and the light makes one resist sleep. There is daylight seventeen hours a day, double that of midwinter. Eternity would not be long enough if it was composed of English summer eves like this."

~ John Lewis-Stempel, Meadowland: The Private Life of an English Field

[yukinohiko]

peonies