her hair is almost as long now

Love Me Now

Summary: Lucy had been through many bad experiences but this time almost broke her. She had never wished for the presence of a certain dragon slayer, with hair the colour of cherry blossoms, more than now.


A/N: This is a gift fic for @proudtobeaginger who wanted some gritty NaLu angst. I hope you like this, sorry it took me so long to write and if it’s not exactly what you wanted. I wanted to get the scenes between Natsu and Lucy at the end just right. Many thanks to @halseyheartfilia for proof reading for me and @lady-brandy-arts for her support! 

I just about melted writing Natsu at the end, he is such a sweetheart (I fell in love with him myself lol). I realised I didn’t put Happy in until I pretty much wrote the entire thing (I didn’t really want to edit him in either), so please imagine he’s on a date with Charla.

I always struggle with fic titles, so I normally name it after a song that I’m listening to whilst writing. Here is a small list of songsperations for me:

Love Me Now - John Legend

Sorry – Aquilo

I’m On Fire – The Staves

Warnings: This fic is quite dark and mentions torture and the psychological trauma that comes with it. I promise there is a lot of fluff at the end to make up for the angst.

Word Count: 5241


“Scared is what you’re feeling. Brave is what you’re doing.” 
― Emma Donoghue

‘Why am I so weak?’ It was the main question she asked herself in a spiralling vortex of despair.

‘Why was she so stupid?’ It wasn’t like her to act without thinking. A young woman who planned her outfits for the next two weeks, down to her socks and underwear. Cold seeped through to her bones, the stone slab she was splayed across did nothing to insulate the basement floor of wherever she was. Lucy tried shifting her weight to relieve the pressure on her back. Wincing, she gasped as agony ripped through her body, in fact, it wouldn’t be a surprise if every bone had been fractured. Instinctively clenching her fists, it took all she had not to yelp as pain shot through her system causing a fresh bout of tremors. Tilting her head upwards, trying to see out swollen eyes, her empty chuckle filled the room. Perhaps her brain had temporarily blotted out the fact some of her fingernails had been ripped off. She had been naïve thinking nothing bad could happen on a simple retrieval quest, that shouldn’t have taken more than a week.

‘Natsu.’ It had barely been two days. Her slayer wouldn’t be coming to save her yet. She wasn’t expected back. Biting her already split lip helped her snap out of it, thinking of Natsu would break her. Plus, sobbing too much would disturb her broken rib cage, and she had come this far without crying. Lucy would never give the bastards the satisfaction of seeing her cry or beg. She had taken a longer quest in an admittedly childish protest. Natsu had been in one of his procrastinating phases and everyone else was seemingly on a mission. The choice was to wait for Natsu or go on her own. Lucy hated being alone, it wasn’t that she didn’t believe she could but the isolation resurfaced bad memories.

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   With a deep sigh he slicks back an unruly strand of hair, trying to ensure he looks as close to perfect as possible. That’s the least she deserves, her shining knight, he thinks, frowning as he looks at himself in the mirror and worries over his appearance yet again. Not her brothers scruffy friend, hair almost as long as hers, with the beginnings of a beard starting to show. Gods, I should have shaved, I should have at least cut my hair. He begins to pace in the small bathroom that he and Robb used to share, back when he lived with the Starks. He’d been home for weeks now, ever since the accident, having decided to take a semester off in order to help Robb and the others while Mrs. Stark stayed with her husband at the hospital between surgeries. Horrible as everything was, the time off couldn’t have come at a better time, what with the his recent troubles off at school and his breakup with Ygritte.

   Enough moping, tonight isn’t about you, it’s about Sansa!

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  • Taehyung: Can you tell me a story?
  • Jeongguk: Once upon a time, there was a princess who was trapped in a tower.
  • Jeongguk: She had very long hair. Her name was, uh... I don't know.
  • Jeongguk: One day, a prince named Jeongguk found out she was trapped in a tower. He would visit her every day and bring her food and company. He was almost in love with her.
  • Jeongguk: But then he met this really hot guy at the coffee shop named Taehyung and then they fell in love and got married. Jeongguk didn't give a flying fuck about the girl and her long ass hair.
  • Taehyung: And then what?
  • Jeongguk: Jeongguk and Taehyung live together now and the girl died. The end.

Witches Of Moonlight Falls [Season 6];Part 268}
                   — Witch Stock —

Deedee flipped her long black hair equipped with purple tipped hair extensions. She almost twirled in vainity but amanged to contain her excitment as she approached the all new Charmed Ones.
Deedee: “ [Happy] Guys!”

The new charmed ones turned on their heels to face her. All three of them seemed to almost be glimmering in an unseen magical light. Look at all of you! I can see the resemblence now, it’s meant to be! You’ve truly been charmed again! ”
Bianca and Beverley seemed to be embracing the moment:

Bianca: “ Mother was right, your are our sister for sure! I just don’t get why she’d hide that kind of secret from us for so many years… I know she died and all but she could’ve dropped us a line from the Underworld.”
Beverley: “ THE UNDERWORLD!! That place really exists!? ”
Bianca: “ [eye roll] Hunny, you’ve got so much to learn… [looks at Beatrice] What’s up with you? ”
Beatrice: “ I hate to be miserable at a time like this. I know we’re charmed again, I’m happy I really am, it’s great but… Honestly something doesn’t feel right. I don’t know if it’s the new power we’ve just summoned or something else… I feel a haggering chill again. ”
Deedee: “ — Uh oh! Not this room temperature paranormal crisis again! You heated the room up with a spell like twenty minutes ago. Also… I feel fine…” Deedee looked at the crackling fire place and then back at Beatrice.
Beverley: “ Hm, y’know I don’t feel a cold chill…”
Beatrice: “ Your not an experienced witch my darling. In fact I don’t think your safe here right now. ”
Bianca: “ Wait a pumpkin, Beatrice, your right… Something feels totally weird right now but this isn’t like before! This feels like that time we were in the Moonlight Falls witch trials. ”
Beverley: “ What!? You were in the witch trials!!? But that’s impossible that happened like decades ago. ”
Beatrice: “ Yes, the 1600s. I was hanged actually. Enough of this! We’ll have time to tell you our curses another time my dear. Right now I feel a true curse coming on… I’m going to scan the room for Night’s Black Agents. ”
Beverley: “ Huh? Nights what now what? ”

 Hag: “ There she is… The future relative of MARY SIBLEY. Beverley! ”

Sado's Loft - Wednesday, 1:20pm

“Sleep well?”

“Nowhere near. Is it always so bright in here?”

“No, but that’s what happens when you have a Vodka hangover.” He was silent for most of the time he sat with his head down on her dining room table. Aside from when he seemed to register that her hair was now red and no longer white as it was previously. Considering how long they’ve known each other, he wasn’t surprised to see how quickly she changed hair colors.

Sado almost wanted to laugh because he looked as if he was too through with life, bright lights and the loud crackling of her fireplace. Seeing people in these kind of conditions made her glad she didn’t participate in drinking.

“What were you dreaming of last night?” His face fell. Yeah, too through with life. “…Your father came to see me a couple of weeks ago. Ever since then, I can’t stop seeing this vision. When I close my eyes, all I see…is my death.”

“He came to see you? What did he say?”

“Pretty much everything I predicted he’d say. He was furious with me for what I’d done to you and I accepted that, but then he changed. A small glimpse of the Demon inside of him and then he just…disappeared. I haven’t seen him since.”

Sado knew what this was. Mind games. Her father was toying with Zero. It’s what all Demons did. Made their targets suffer. Go crazy, before they attacked.

Previous 👽👽 Next

Roundel with the Head of Medusa
Artist unknown
Roman, 150-235 AD.
Silver with gilding, remains of bronze attachments on the back.

Over time in Greek and Roman art, the image of the gorgon Medusa evolved from that of a horrifying, monstrous creature into a more appealing, almost human representation. This high relief repoussé roundel made in the late 100s or early 200s A.D. replaces the hideous face and fangs of early representations with a woman’s face with regular features and a long, straight nose. The writhing snakes of the early Medusa’s hair here give way to a thick windblown hairstyle reminiscent of that worn by Alexander the Great, with two small wings sprouting from her forehead. The snakes are now confined to a single example at each temple with their tails neatly knotted beneath her chin. The knitted brows and tightly closed, downturned mouth give this Medusa a melancholy rather than ferocious expression.

A luxury item, this roundel is made of silver with gilding added to Medusa’s hair and eyes. Four silver rivets in the border mark the places where bronze guides were fastened to the back so that the roundel could be threaded onto a strap, probably as a bridle ornament.

Source: J. Paul Getty Museum

They were both sitting on her bed, silent. 

“What was that?” Lucy asked, side glancing at Natsu. 

“I’m sorry” His head was low, his voice lower.

They stayed silent. Lucy was still intensely glaring at him, pouting. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be but Lucy didn’t really care now. Either by another accident or not, she wanted more. She sighed and stood up. Natsu flinched, not expecting what’s coming next. She almost felt surprised at her own unwavering courage. She would’ve been shaking of embarrassment right now.

She swiftly locked the window and closed the curtains. She even locked the door. Brushing her now long hair to the side she organized the mess Natsu and Happy made just a few minutes ago. All her movements seemed quick and graceful to Natsu. He kind of reminded her of a river. He chuckled to himself which Lucy heard. She perked up and looked at him, frowning. 


She sighed after hearing him. ‘It seemed sincere enough’ she thought. She crossed her arms and walked slowly back to Natsu. He watched her every move, every muscle, and every contour of her body. He stared at her face mostly. He kept quiet. He let his head down in shame. She walked closer and closer, then sighed loudly. His eyes darted to the sides then to her. His head slowly rising. 

Ba dump

She sighed again and let her arms down in defeat. Natsu raised an eyebrow. Now she’s just being weird again. Is everything okay now? Has he been forgiven? They both sighed simultaneously, surprising each other. Lucy’s face reddened a bit and Natsu cleared his throat. 

“So haha where’s Hap-”

Just as Natsu was about to start up a conversation to ease the tension, Lucy suddenly leaned in. Her brown eyes intensely studying his face. Natsu’s eyes widened at the sudden actions Lucy did. She carefully placed both her hands on her bed, beside Natsu. Their faces are so near now. Lucy can feel her face heat up quickly. ‘This is so unlike me.’ she thought. Natsu slowly backed away from her. He audibly gulped, showing his uneasyness. ‘This isn’t normal.’ they both thought. Lucy sat in front of Natsu when she got enough space. She kept staring at him in silence. He was about to back away further but she held his scarf. 

“K-kiss me…again..” 

Lucy mumbled. Suddenly her face is beet red and she found herself slowly shrinking in embarrassment. Her hold on his scarf became loose and she was about to turn away when Natsu spoke. “What?”

She gently pushed him away. Her head still low and turned away from him. She was about to stand up but Natsu held her hand. “What was that?” Now it’s his turn to ask, huh. It was an accident. She knows. But she wanted more. They were playing and Happy jumped on her head. She lost her balance and he tried to catch her but his lips caught her instead. It wasn’t supposed to turn this way. Happy didn’t have to run away. She wasn’t that mad or scary. What made it worse is the “accidental” kiss didn’t seem normal. His eyes were closed and his lips slighty agaped. It seemed like an actual kiss. It wasn’t normal. 

“HAHA! It’s nothing please ignore that!” She exclaimed awkwardly. She knows he heard it. She wanted to pretend he didn’t. She glanced at him for a second hoping to see a confused expression but instead she was welcomed with a smirk on his face. ‘This bastard..’ she thought. He pulled her closer to him. 

“Luuucy?” He teased. She got irritated. 


She faced him again and with full commitment this time. She held his scarf and slightly tugged at it. She slightly frowned and went even closer at him. She can see his shock judging from his frozen state and the look on his face. She felt a bit of pride in herself. 

“I thought I told you to hurry up and kiss me, didn’t I?” 

As soon as she said that, the embarrassment quickly crawled back in. Her eyes widened, she got surprised at herself. Her mouth agape and her body frozen. Natsu seemed to have been revived though because as soon as she said that, he held her waist with one arm, and her face with the other, and immediately started kissing her. This is surprising. The kiss quickly became something else. The heat rose up in Lucy’s room. She was trying to push him away but she can’t stop kissing him back. She doesn’t know if this is right or wrong. 

‘What if happy came back?’ She thought and her eyes darted open. Natsu didn’t give her time to think because right after that, he started using his tongue. He gently nibbled on her lower lip which gave him further entrance to her mouth. Suddenly it’s a heated make-out session that seemed unexpected from both of them. 

Lucy felt dominant and wanted to push Natsu so he’s lying down but the opposite happened. Natsu laid her down her own bed, still kissing her. Later, he started kissing her neck, giving her time just to breath but as soon as she’s about to speak he’s back at her lips. She found herself tugging at Natsu, her body language shouting “More”. Natsu’s hand started traveling down from her face, her neck, then..


Goddamnit Happy. 

Cold outside

Small Karedevil ficlet. Happy Valentine’s Day Week.

It was snowing a lot. Opening his eyes, Matt accessed the condition of the streets outside his apartment.

Snow, snow, so much snow. Covering the streets, sidewalks, front steps, gathering on rooftops, trees, trapping cars and bikes and shutting off exits.

And quiet. So quiet he almost moaned in pleasure.

With a hand to his alarm, he clicked on the button.

“Four. Sixteen. AM”, the electronic voice informed him.


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Spotting you (closed rp)

It was only the first week of college but it has already proven just how stressful life was only about to get. Between the classes that Marinette took, trying to balance homework, her part time job (Thank you parents), and being Ladybug she was already on the verge of pulling her hair out. But that would be unbecoming of the fashion designer to show up with a spotchy patch of hair missing from her head. And what would Chat Noir think of that. The thought almost made her groan. But not as much as her phone vibrating in her pocket. A notice from her best friend. About their meet up at the coffee shop two blocks away. The meet up she nearly had forgotten about.

“I’m almost there Alya!!” She said aloud to no one in particular as she took off running down the street now. Long since Marinette stopped wearing the pink pants and flowered t-shirt and had started to roll different outfits in her wardrobe made by her hands only. And that day so happened to be a blazer with a black blouse tucked into a black skirt. The hemming hinted small lime green paw prints. A new addition to her ladybug and Chat Noir clothes line Alya some how talked her into doing. 

Now if Marinette would have read the text Alya had shot her way, she would have noticed her long time crushes name being in said text and the words joining. But that of course didn’t happen. Instead the petite woman rounded into the shop seeing Alya’s head and taking a seat opposite of her. Not once did her eyes move around the table to anyone else that might have been sitting there with them. “Sorry! Class just let out and my professor kept going on about the different stitches for silk and what would hold up best for the life time of the outfit….” Alya looked at her with raised brow before looking between her and the others at the table.


Counting Down

a saphael soulmate au because I am trash

Simon glanced down at his wrist and tugged his sleeve down to make sure it was covered. He hadn’t told anyone but his clock was getting very close to zeroing out and he was a nervous wreck. And of course, he was at some Downworld party with Clary and everyone else. Why did she have to come here and get her memories back?

He looked around the bar and took in a shaky breath. He was sure he still had almost an hour until his clock was up, but that didn’t mean his soulmate wasn’t here right now.

He couldn’t help but wonder what his soulmate would look like. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they have long hair? Short? What color would it be? Would they be nice? Or someone douchey.

He sighed and put his face in his hands. Why couldn’t the stupid soulmark have been a name? Or something they would say to you? But no, it had to be a timer. The most nerve wracking thing ever. Like life wasn’t stressful enough, it had to throw in a countdown.

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Wandering Back Again

Skye hadn’t ever meant to stay MIA for this long. Months was it? Powers beyond her direct influence of control, but the slayer wasn’t anymore pleased with herself by the tribulations that occurred over these months. A rather nasty demon, and it was her who had been called to deal with the unseemly plight. Even with all her knowledge even Skye had limitations to what she was able to do.

She had been on the run briefly. Telling no one only because she had been unable. Now the amethyst haired young woman was walking almost uncertainly down a side street in the downtown district. In the haze of darkness broken up only by scattering city lights she saw the neon shop sign; Devil May Cry. After all that had transpired between them, their rather heavy conversation, and she had all but disappeared on him. Would he be angry? She placed her hand onto the door handle before pushing it open.

Only one way to find out.


it was so gorgeous, it almost felt like sadness || [x

She looks back at him, and her eyes aren’t Tully blue, they’re winter blue; he should’ve noticed sooner. She has Catelyn’s red hair, and long neck, and fierce glare, and he has Ned Stark’s stubbled jaw, and broad shoulders, and grey eyes, and perhaps if someone were to walk in now, they would claim to see the ghosts of the crypt thirty-feet down come out from rest. || [x

Hq but girls (Iwaizumi-focus because why not), inspired by this post.

So, it’s like every fem!iwaizumi I came across in the fandom sports short spicky hair, but what if:

  • Iwaizumi has long, silky hair! 
  • Say, Iwa used to keep her hair really short. But she later figures monthly hair cut is too troublesome, so she starts growing her hair longer.
  • When Iwa’s hair almost reaches her shoulder, she puts them into a tiny ponytail. Oikawa finds it adorable and starts playing or twirling Iwa’s ponytail whenever she can. 
  • Since it requires little work to keep her hair in a ponytail during practice (and Oikawa once compliments how she loves Iwa’s new hair style), Iwa keeps it that way. Now she only goes to salons like half a year or even longer. 
  • Iwa doesn’t take much care of her hair and rarely dries her hair properly. 
  • She got a mild migraine because of that.
  • Oikawa volunteers to dry Iwa’s hair for her and experiments new hair product on Iwa’s hair. 
  • (Iwa’s hair is naturally soft, but now with Tooru’s care, it get a good shine.)
  • Oikawa also uses Iwa’s hair to practice different kinds of braiding. 
  • Oikawa only manages to do fine braids with Iwa’s hair but not her own. 
  • Iwaizumi is still the best hair braider in the whole Seijou girl volleyball team (because braiding Oikawa’s hair has somehow become her duty since they were 10.)
  • Basically just Iwaizumi with long, silky hair!
  • (And Oikawa being allured by Iwa’s swaying ponytail.)


One shitty sketch because I can’t draw. 

Family knows best


They grab her, snatch her up from her very spot.
At least six hands are forcibly holding her down.
Fingers digging deep into her flesh. They hiss and
growl plucking her into darkness. They have to
be quick enough to keep the woman on her toes.
If they slow down, slip up, she’ll fight. 

They warp back into the light shoving the queen onto
the floor. They aren’t human, the three of them.
They’re almost like her, like her own followers but more
twisted. More disgusting. Even though they look
human one could easily see they’re not in this state.
Blank white eyes with sharp teeth. It’s almost like they
have to restrain themselves from devouring the woman
on the floor. 

The room is expensive, from floor to walls. There’s a
couch that only moments ago was only decorated with
a unique turquoise throw. Now a woman with long
brown hair and bright red lipstick is lounged over it. 

“Where is Abraham Melisende?”

kitchiris  asked:

five times kissed

five times our muses kissed. | ACCEPTING.


there’s a difference between theory and practice. kitsu chiri was untouchable; that was theory. mitsuko souma was the most feared girl in her school; that was practice. still, not everyone was afraid of mitsuko. that didn’t bother her, since takako “robo-bitch” chigusa was almost as stand-offish, and it would be boring otherwise. but, still, mitsuko thinks it’s irritating, the way that chiri looks at her whenever they cross paths. damn near stuck up her nose at the sight of me, didn’t she? fourth time now, and the only reason why mitsuko is counting is because she’s been thinking. too much of it. it’s what she does when she isn’t doing. ( SOMETHING / SOMEONE / SOMEWHERE. ) thinking for too long about what to do with chiri and her laser eyes, chiri and her waterfall of hair, chiri and her pressed uniform. miss virgin pure wasn’t her worst enemy, but she has so many that she doesn’t care to not make more. she brought this upon herself, mitsuko hopes she knows. “you piss me off,” she speaks the words slowly, as if commenting on the weather and not setting out to destroy someone the best way she knows. mitsuko smooths out a spurned smile, roughly grabbing chiri by the collar to yank her close. too much teeth and a little tongue is enough to make a mess of chiri’s pretty mouth, and mitsuko’s too, but she’s done her damage. the permeating sweet mint on her tongue is an afterthought, curling up inside of her like a stray cat: unwanted, ugly, unable to throw away once found.


with chiri’s fingers knotted in her hair, mitsuko’s scalp swears and stings — but it doesn’t hurt as bad as other things have. her breath skips, and chiri doesn’t cease; it’s hard to recall when chiri is incanting murmurs ( your hair always looks so messy and you wear make up with your uniform and that skirt of yours is absolutely not school regulation and you really should let me fix you up so you don’t get into trouble and does your school not care ) into the back of her neck. for that reason, mitsuko is grateful. sitting idly on chiri’s bed is hard; she has a habit of kicking her feet atop the high elevation, but chiri will tighten her hands in mitsuko’s hair, yanking mercilessly to make her stop fidgeting. it’s only when mitsuko makes ridiculous flirtations, alternating between lovely and vulgar, in the almost silence that chiri falters and softens her grip. when chiri’s finished, eyes soft and beaming and cheeks aglow with peachy satisfaction, mitsuko pretends to be in awe. she’s always been rather convincing that she could be as pristine as chiri without actually looking as pure as her, but this is different. when chiri was doing her up with minimalist make up, lip gloss and a dab of blush, removing her blood red nails and painting on clear polish, chiri didn’t allow her to look at a mirror. maybe chiri thought she could be convinced to change inside if she could see how much more pleasant she looked on the outside. maybe mitsuko could. “thanks,” she presses a kiss to the corner of chiri’s lips, “but you know this isn’t me.” it’s hypocrisy, mitsuko knows, because it’s not like mitsuko really knows who she is anyways.


“holy shit,” mitsuko breathes out a prayer of pain beneath her grimace, “can you calm down already?” chiri doesn’t, but she doesn’t expect anything less. she’s disappointed that mitsuko has done this again, done this to herself. but maybe, mitsuko thinks, she’s just mad because she wasn’t there to see it go down. it was something they had in common; admiring the way blood spilled onto soil or pavement like paint on a canvas, thriving upon malevolence. flowers thirsted for rain in a similar manner. a good number of their outings involved some rival girl gang getting the good beat down from the both of them. mitsuko called them dates, affectionate for something so vicious. chiri seemed to receive it well. it didn’t make hirono or yoshimi happy, but they were just chihuahuas far below their mad dog tier. this investment could be something beautiful — right now, it was nothing less than bloody and abrasive to mitsuko’s ears. lecture mode was usually something she zoned out on, but that was impossible with chiri practically scrubbing that ointment onto her shoulder. her hands are caked dry with blood that doesn’t belong to her, but she doesn’t let chiri think about it’s place on her arms when mitsuko brings her down to her level to crash a kiss upon her lips, dizzying her with stars to stun and silence her.


living in the moment doesn’t make you alive, and killing something doesn’t make it dead. mitsuko tries to reap ( HURT / COMFORT / HARM ) from chiri’s lips on that doorstep, desperate and deliberate, heavy like rain piercing drops onto concrete. but chiri has a way of knowing lately, the highs and lows, mitsuko’s heavy showers and the cloudy days. it’s not hard for her to shift mitsuko, off of her face, grimacing thinly at the overwhelming tang of bourbon. she clutches at chiri’s chest, hands tracing that secret part across her heart, silent. chiri doesn’t say anything, just smoothes out mitsuko’s hair and blots at her running makeup with her handkerchief. gently, she guides her inside, to the living room. chiri’s sister knows when to make herself sparse, slipping into her room after fixing mitsuko’s shoes at the genkan. it’s times like this that mitsuko can be reassured that she’s safer in chiri’s arms — she’s never felt so threatened in her life because of it, and now she’s sorely tempted to tear chiri apart with her splintering soul. it isn’t what she really wants to do, not really, but it’s the way the cookie crumbles and the stone rolls and the sun shines. a natural way of life for an unnatural being and her unnatural love. she doesn’t know when she’ll do it, but it’s coming.


mitsuko and chiri are not the same person, but she’s known this since the very beginning. whatever this was, it was a paradox playground. push me in the sandbox, kiss it better where it hurts, do it again. it’s strange, almost unfulfilling, that this is how it ends. everything else she’s left behind was always a little rancid, curdled, but it’s better this way ( HOLLOW / HALFWAY / HAUNTING ) for the both of them — that’s what mitsuko tells herself. her smile is wide, open mouthed and gleaming brighter than she feels, but she knows it’s the truth. she hasn’t smiled like this in a long time. it hurts, but she can’t take it back. chiri doesn’t know why she’s doing this and mitsuko won’t tell her, even if she owes it to her. in the springtime, something new whistles through the air. the clouds move above them at a moderate pace while the wind brushes their skirts across each other’s thighs, the twinning inkiness of their hair into each other’s faces, with how close they are sitting next to each other. it’s graduation, a time to leave their adolescence behind. they’re both ghosts and girls; chiri is still here, about to move on to a higher place, but mitsuko is far away and has buried herself down, down, down. the stone bench nearby chiri’s campus is strangely hot, and she curls her hand across the bottom to lean closer, tasting the despair on chiri’s breath and then her lips. “i won’t forget you,” is what mitsuko means to whisper between her teeth, and she might have said something like that before she takes herself away from chiri and all of this and nothing else has to matter anymore. the falling cherry blossoms don’t follow her.

Fated-Noragami Fanfic

Sorry for the delay @virtual-profile! I am your Noragami Secret Santa. It’s been a long time since I wrote a fanfic so I hope you enjoy!

“Hiyori?” A voice called softly, almost uncertain

That smell.

“Hiyori!” The voice was full of urgency now.

“…?” The brown haired girl stood in front of the train station in her way to her university when it hit her. It was a smell–something so familiar it felt like home. It was her favorite smell. It was better than fresh baked cookies, and lovelier of a fragrance when sakura began to bloom.

Hiyori began to frantically move her head to search for where the scent was coming from. Her heart was screaming that she needed to find it. Hiyori heard a voice calling to her too. It was a melancholy voice full of hope. She didn’t even realize tears began to stroll down her cheeks.

Hiyori forgot something–that was what her mind was telling her. It was more than she forgot her umbrella at home or left a text book for her morning medical terminology course on her desk when she was rushing this morning. She forgot something so important but she could not even recall what it was.

How could she forget something that was so precious? What was so precious? Her mind began churning on a merry-go-round of emotions–sadness, anger, fear, anxiety, even hope. What was she hoping for?

“Yato…she can’t see us.” A boy’s voice dejectedly spoke; it was younger than the first voice.

“Yato, who is…?” The brown haired girl mumbled to herself. Suddenly, it all hit her at once.

Memories began to pool into her mind. Tutoring Yukine. Being with Daikou and Kofuku’s place eating dinner with her friends. Having picnics by the sakura tree with Bishoman, Kazuma, and the rest of the “Ha” clan. Those blue eyes that made her heart leap every time he glanced at her–Yato. The tears were coming faster now. “Yato!” She cried, Hiyori turned around and there he was with Yukine standing beside him. They were not there a moment before when she looked. It was like someone cleared the fog on a car windshield–the world was suddenly clear again for Hiyori.

Time had not passed for Yato and Yukine they looked exactly the same way they did on her high school graduation day months earlier. Yato was still wearing his track shit with his “fluffy fluff” scarf, as he called it, and Yukine was in a t-shirt pair of overalls that were too long so he had to roll up the fabric. Graduation–that was the last time she saw them. Yato stopped coming around, she stopped writing letters back to Yukine when she began her pre-med courses, and Hiyori’s spirit stopped spilling out of her body as the world of the near shore became fainter to see.

What happened?

Hiyori ran into both of their arms and sobbed like a child. She broke her promise to Yato that she would never forget him, again. How could she hurt him like this for a second time? Yukine and Yato pulled the girl close to them as the god and shinki began to cry along with her.

“Hiyori, I’m sorry.” Yato whispered in the brunette’s ear. “I wanted you to have a normal life, but I can’t. I can’t stay away from you. We need you, Hiyori.” His voice was breaking too as the god wept.

“You idiot! You don’t get to decide that!” Hiyori broke free of the embrace from the god and regalia. “Jungle Savate!” Hiyori yelled the famous wrestling phrase as she kicked Yato into the air.

“I felt someone was missing this whole time and it was both of you! You made me forget you and try to break our ties!” She was crying again but her face was red from anger as her fists clenched. “You’re my god of fortune, Yato! I want to be with your forever!” She yelled, her voice shaking with anger and betrayal. Hiyori was angry at Yato, but mainly herself. Why didn’t she stick annoyingly close to him when he tried to out space between them? Was it because of trying to help with the Iki hospital? Was is the stress of starting college? Why did she just not chase after him either? What happened to make her stay so far away?

It hit her, suddenly. More memories came into play and everything made sense.

The kiss.


Yato was laying on the ground attempting to recover from Hiyori’s strong kick. Her words stung worse than the kick–hell it stung worse than being blighted.

Yukine stood by looking confused and terrified of being the next one to be kicked. Yato told him it was better for Hiyori to forget them and continue on with her life but he was lying. He was scared to have someone so precious taken away from him so he severed the ties himself before he would hurt her the same way he hurt Sakura. The former god of calamity’s heart clenched at the thought of his beloved regalia.

He killed her–that was his gravest sin. Yato feared Hiyori’s presence in the far shore would endanger her life and she would suffer the same fate as Sakura. True once before the god saved Hiyori from becoming a phantom but it was too close to becoming a tragedy for his comfort.

Hiyori had brought so much light into his world. She saved his life countless times, she gave him a shrine, she followed him far longer than any human before him, but most of all she believed in him. Hiyori had allowed him to become a God of fortune and save him from his personal hell of being a god of calamity who only murdered. She was more precious than anything to him so he had to let her go to save her after he realized what their relationship had turned into.

They had fallen in love–which would only end in tragedy.

“I want to stay with you forever!” Hiyori’s words replayed in his mind. Yato could not give her the forever she wanted. He could never truly marry her or give her children or a future. She would grow older and die one day and Yato would appear like a young adult forever. The only forever he could give her would be a world between death and life–a world where she would no longer be Hiyori. A world where she would be his shinki; a world where god’s greatest secret would surely be unveiled, and the past would only repeat itself.

One kiss changed everything in an instant for their relationship.


“Hiyoriiiiiii!” The god hollered loudly as he waved his arms frantically. Yukine was standing next to him holding a sign that read ‘CONGRATULATIONS HIYORI!’ With little crowns and puffballs drawn all over it.

Hiyori stood several feet away from them outside her school looking embarrassed. She smiled softly and ran over to their sides holding her diploma proudly. “Thank you!” She said while examining the sign.

“Kofuku wanted you to come over soon to have a big dinner to celebrate!” Yukine said excitedly. The blessed regalia looked down at his feet nervously. “Hiyori, I know you’ll be busy with college soon, but please will you continue to be my teacher?” Yukine stuttered as he spoke, his face becoming red.

Hiyori laughed and patted his head, “I’ll be your teacher as long as I have new things to teach you! Don’t worry you can count on me, Yukine.” Hiyori smiled softly at the regalia.

“I took off from my jobs today so we can celebrate, Hiyori! Now that you’re graduated we can get married now.” Yato beamed as he wrapped one arm around Hiyori’s shoulders. Hiyori’s face became red as he did this.

“I can’t marry someone who wears a tracksuit and wastes all his money!” Hiyori retorted while poking a finger into Yato’s chest. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of marrying Yato–she couldn’t help but think of Kofuku tying their plaques together to match them as soul mates. The brunette’s face grew red thinking about it. Yato still didn’t know, it was her secret for now to hold onto.

“He didn’t get any jobs today!” Yukine retorted glaring at his master.

“One day I’ll be richer than Ebisu and have the most followers of any other God and you’ll be wanting to marry me then! Yukine, I had loads of offers you were just asleep when I got them.” Yato yelled as he took his arm away from Hiyori and flashed her a cheesy grin with his tongue sticking out and his signature peace sign.

“You’re full of shit, Yato,” Yukine snapped as he hit him with the post board,” Hiyori you have a habit of being around useless men. We need to find you a good husband.” He motioned towards Yato as he spoke to Hiyori. Hiyori couldn’t help but laugh at Yukine’s remarks.

“Come to congratulate your father, Yaboku?” A familiar but unwanted voice abruptly called out. The trio stiffened and looked to find Fujisaki in front of them. Yato held his arm in front of Yukine and Hiyori with a serious look in his eyes. The happy mood quickly disappeared into unease.

“What do you want?” The god’s voice was threatening.

“His name is Yato now, too!” Hiyori exclaimed as she glared at Yato’s father.

“My, my, what a noisy crowd. Yaboku, we’ll be talking soon,” Fujisaki emphasized on the name. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed before pausing and looking towards Hiyori, smirking as he did.“ I heard someone is studying to become a Doctor. What a shame that your name is blackened now from that unfortunate accident,” He paused to watch Hiyori’s face lose color at the mention of the hospital while Yato’s face grew darker with anger, “I’ll be seeing you, Hiyori. Maybe we can go on another date sometime. I heard Capyland is great this time of year.” His grin got bigger as he spoke. He turned from the trio to leave them with the bitter feeling in the air.

"Don’t listen to him! He’s an ass, you’re going to be a great Doctor!” Yukine exclaimed to Hiyori. The brunette smiled softly at her friend.

“I’ll never listen to a word he says. I won’t let him scare me away from my dreams or let him hurt Yato.” Hiyori declared. He grinned at her two companions. Yato smiled at Hiyori. She had always been so head strong and positive. She never let any challenge stop her from achieving her goals and she never gave up on any task. Her determination gave him strength. “Let’s go to Kofuku’s,” Hiyori grabbed both of the boys’ hands causing them both to blush.


“Hiyorin!” The pink haired goddess of poverty bellowed. Kofuku stood in the doorway of her home and waved to Hiyori, beckoning for her to come inside. Once Hiyori got close enough Kofuku latched herself onto the brunette. “Congratulations Hiyorin! Daikou and I are so proud of you!” He squealed as she led Hiyori inside with Yato and Yukine following behind her. Inside the home Hiyori was greeted by the explosion of confetti on her.

“Congratulations!” A chorus of voices cheered. Bishamon, Kazuma, Mayu, and Daikou all stood around the table full of food greeting Hiyori with gleeful faces.

“Thank you so much.” Hiyori beamed. It wasn’t long before everyone began drinking (except Hiyori and Yukine) and enjoying food. Bishamon and Yato were bickering over who the winner would be of yet another ping pong match. Yukine and Kazuma were discussing more training for new techniques for the new blessed vessel to learn.

“Hiyorin is growing up so fast! Soon she’ll be whisked away from us by some strange man.” Kofuku whined before taking another swing of her beer.

“A strange man you paired her with! Don’t think I forgot about that. I’m going to find Hiyori a new man that will make her parents proud.” Yato argued pointing at Kofuku with his beer can.

Kofuku giggled to herself. “Hiyori likes my pairing, she had no objections, right Hiyorin?” The goddess elbowed Hiyori and kept giggling. Hiyori’s face grew red.

“I’ll be right back.” Hiyori stood up and went outside. She didn’t want Kofuku to admit to Yato about the pairing and didn’t want to be there to see his reaction if she did. It made her heart ache to think about and she didn’t know why. Why did she stop Yato from serving the match? Hiyori sat down and hugged her knees to herself. She rested her chin on her knees and gazed up at the moon. She sighed softly to herself, “Yato.” She mumbled to herself.

“Yeah?” Yato’s voice startled Hiyori as he sat down next to her. He leaned back on one hand, a beer in the other hand. “You’ve been quiet today. Was it earlier?” He asked. Yato leaned over closer to Hiyori his face inches from Hiyori’s, looking right into her eyes. Hiyori looked right into his captivating azure eyes before quickly looking away, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Hiyori, are you sick?” His voice was full of concern now. Yato placed down his beer and placed his hand on her forehead.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just thinking about a lot of things.” Hiyori moved away from his touch. Her heart was beating louder now.

Yato moved back to sitting right next to Hiyori. “I’ll listen to your concerns for five yen. I am your God of Fortune you know.” Hiyori moved to grab a coin from her pocket before placing it into Yato’s hands. She clapped her hands together and held them together like she was praying.

“I feel nervous about my future. I want to be a great doctor and help the Iki name be restored to its former glory.” Hiyori spoke slowly keeping her eyes closed the whole time as she did.

 “You don’t have to be nervous. Your wish has been heard loud and clear, Hiyori Iki. Your wish will come true. You just work hard and keep following the path you know is right. You always make the right decisions.” Yato smiled at Hiyori as he spoke. He put an arm around her to bring her closer to him to comfort her. Hiyori’s eyes snapped open, her face growing red again. Her heart began to pound again. “You always can come to me about anything. Recommend your friends to me too for advice.” Yato grinned sheepishly at Hiyori.

“Yato,” Hiyori said softly


“About Kofuku picking my soul mate…” Hiyori trailed off. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. What was she doing? She couldn’t stop herself anymore she needed to tell him and understand her own feelings about Yato.

“Don’t worry I’ll server that tie! Any pairing she makes will be a disaster. I’ll find you someone who isn’t a scumbag. Don’t forget my marriage offer though once I’m the most famous God in Japan I’ll make you the happiest wife and put Yukin through college!” Yato cheered as he punched a fist into the air. He was off in his world of fantasies again.

“Yato,” She was almost whispering now. “It was you.” She looked up now at Yato, her eyes glazed from the tears that began to well in her eyes. Yato dropped his arms to his sides and looked at Hiyori dumbfounded.

“Kofuku tied us together?” Yato asked breathlessly. He looked stunned. Yato gazed to the moon as if the answers to all his questions where hidden in its carters.

“You can sever it if you want,” Hiyori bit her bottom lip before continuing, “please don’t, though.” She said gently. Her chest ached as she spoke as she began to finally understand her feelings. That was her confession, her plea not to separate them, she loved Yato. She had loved him since she locked eyes with him on the street before leaping out to save him from a bus that wouldn’t even hurt him. Hiyori never understood her strong pull to Yato until now—it was fate.

“Hiyori?” Yato looked at her now with widened eyes. The god didn’t know how to respond. He closed the distance between them, Hiyori moving closer to meet him. Their lips lightly brushed against each other. This kiss was different from Fujisaki. Firstly it was wanted, but mostly is was full of a tenderness Hiyori had never experienced before. It was kind, warm, and full of a yearning for each other. Yato broke free from the kiss before it got deeper and pulled Hiyori into his arms. “I won’t ever sever it.” He whispered into her hair. Hiyori wrapped her arms around Yato’s waist and buried her face into his chest—engulfing herself in the scent and man she loved. They stayed like that for a while just enjoying their presences with each other before returning to the party.

After that night Yato had begun to see Hiyori less and less, calls and texts became fewer and fewer. He pushed her away without a single explanation. Hiyori threw herself into her studies to forget the clear rejection to her vowing to return back to Yato and Yukine’s sides when she felt less awkward. She wrote notes and looked at pictures every day to help herself remember them—but somewhere along the lines her memories vanished. Life became that of a normal eighteen year old girls, though, she felt she was forgetting something every day but was never able to figure out what it was.


“Hiyori, forgive me. “ Yato stood up now and came closer to Hiyori. “After that night my father met me and kept mentioning you. I had to stay away to keep you safe.” He was pleading with her now. Hiyori just looked down at the ground as he spoke, tears falling down her ivory cheeks as she shook her head at him.

“You can’t make these decisions alone, Yato!” Hiyori yelled. She looked at the god straight in the eye. “Your decisions affect other people—like Yukine and me.” Hiyori motioned to the regalia who was awkwardly standing away from them.

“I’m still learning. I don’t know what to do.” Yato said softly.

“Then you ask for help! You’re not alone anymore, Yato. Let us carry some burdens too,” Hiyori grabbed the God’s hands. “We’ll figure out your father together.” She motioned with her head for Yukine to join them. He teen walked over to them and placed his hands on top of Hiyori’s.

“We’re like a family. We stick together.” Yukine affirmed with a sheepish smile.

“You’ve made me miss my train now so might as well go get something to eat. We have a lot to talk about. I’m still mad at you too, Yato.” Hiyori sighed and rubbed the back of her head and motioned for the two to follow her to a café.  Hiyori was mad at Yato still, but her heart would soon forgive him, he was her soul mate after all.

It’s All Coming Back To Me Now

Closed starter for @engineeringmonkeywiz

Walking into the facility, Jemma tried to push some hair back over her ear but, having forgotten her long hair was pulled into a low twist, she just ended up mucking up the side. She breathed out a curse and got her ID out of her bag to show to the guard. There were weapons trained on her from overhead while the guard ran her ID through the scanner but that was simply a vague awareness in the back of her mind. What her brain was screaming in the foreground, overriding almost anything else, was: Fitz!

She’d been tasked with the job of inspecting S.H.I.E.L.D. facility 042 on Director Mace’s behalf. Fitz, as the head of this science and research facility, would be impossible to avoid this time. She’d had to visit the site once before, but had managed to slide through without seeing him.

Actually, she hadn’t seen him since the day he’d broken things off with her. She’d tried to speak to him once or twice—admittedly halfheartedly—they’d only been messages, one of them after she’d had a bit too much wine. But that was before she’d known. Not that she was getting into that with him. It was too late, she couldn’t tell him now. He wanted nothing to do with her and she was trying to respect that—unless her job required that she speak to him, which it did, unfortunately for them both.

“Just point me in the right direction,” she told the guard as she smiled pleasantly after he’d confirmed her identity as the assistant director via retinal scan. “I can find my way there on my own.”

He gave her some fairly simple directions but it was mostly for the benefit of the guard that she’d asked. She’d studied the plans before she came. It was an inspection after all.

When she came upon the facility director’s office, she caught a glimpse of him through the crack in the door before she’d fully rounded the corner where he might see her. He looked nearly the same. Suddenly, all the feelings came rushing back. The guilt, anger, confusion and heartbreak was all right there on the surface. She put her back to the wall and took a moment to collect herself. When she was certain that she wouldn’t cry, she fixed her hair with her compact and then, shouldering her bag, turned and marched into his office.

Proud that she managed to keep her face neutral, she said, “I believe you were expecting me, Agent Fitz?”

He wakes to the soft sound of their bedroom door opening quietly. He was still mostly asleep, as he always was when he awoke at Stephanivien’s side. Quietly the door closes again and he hears footsteps half stumbling their way forward before wiggling into the bed. Already a smile was playing on his lips and he slides away from Stephanivien, still fast asleep, just enough for their daughter to wiggle between them.

Carefully, one of his hands finds her head and runs fingers gently through her hair, long and loose and already ruffled from sleep. “Bad dreams, sweetheart?” he asks quietly as she settles in between her fathers and receives a silent nod in return. “You’re safe now.”

Almost as if he had heard, still fast asleep, Stephanivien’s arms tighten around the both of them, holding his family close in his protective embrace. He thinks she’s smiling, cuddled between them but he has no way to prove it. She was relaxed, though, that much he could tell and that was good.

She shifts a little, just enough to tuck her face into his chest a muffled “Sing to me, papa?” reaching his ears moments later. Ever her father’s daughter - through blood or raising he is certain he shall never know blinded - he finds every similarity further endearing. He loved her and she was living proof that he could be loved solely for who he was now, who he had been before being left solely for stories.

“Of course.” The song he sings his his default, the one he always sung to Stephanivien to get hi to drift off, a song he had memorized young. It’s familiar, this, song on his lips and hair sliding through his fingers. It’s not the same as cuddling Stephanivien to sleep as a child however he knows it is providing her the same comforts it had always provided himself. So he sings until he feels her drift off in his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before falling back asleep himself.

“(…) Her tall and thin figure, the graceful yet haughty posture, the charming features of her face were now those of a woman, a woman who promised to be of an unmatchable beauty (…). The green glow of her eyes had become both deeper and colder. The opulence and splendor of her long raven hair contrasted with the almost transluscent paleness of her milky and flawless skin, and both black as white, they seemed to overshadow with their reflections the whiteness of her stole.”

- Michel Rio, Morgane.