Levi Is The Type To;

levi as a muslim heacanons? you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to 😔 i’m just a strict muslim and seeing it would be fun

author note :: omg levi ramadan + muslim headcanons since it’s ramadan and the idea is super cute to me. me and my friends have always headcannoned him as muslim jokingly (tbh we do that with all anime characters) idk probably because i’m muslim and it makes me happy 😭 this is super short but i hope you like it anon !! +++ my requests are always open so feel free to drop by :-)

levi wakes everyone up for suhoor because he rarely ever sleeps so it makes sense for him to wake everyone up to eat

scolds anyone who hasn’t done wudhu correctly because prayer is nothing without cleanliness

tbh the hunger isn’t difficult for him he just finds it hard to let go of drinking tea as often

gets annoyed when sasha says “not even water.....???” and tells her she better be respectful

i do not have much else to add to be honest but he would definitely help clean up after suhoor, he isn’t lazy and won’t let one person clean up after everyone

feel like he would definitely be the type the drink lots of tea during suhoor so he can handle the day better

also have a feeling that he would constantly remind people to say bismillah before eating because,,, it’s very important to say bismillah :-)

makes fresh wudhu for all the prayers purely because he likes being clean

does not like how there are no official days off given for eid, but hey he’s humanities strongest he understands he can’t take a break even on eid 

OKOK WAIT!!!!! big headcanon that me and a muslim friend have is that levi would be very good at doing mehndi/henna for eid celebrations

like he would be great at it totally yup, don’t argue with me it’s true!!!! he would do gabi’s henna

all in all, a very nice muslim :-)

i could add more but..... let me not go off on a tangent i could literally talk about this FOREVER

depollute me, pretty baby—eijirou kirishima.

concept: eijirou comforts his significant others in their moment of insecurity [based on leith ross’ we’ll never have sex demo].

pairing: pro-hero!eijirou kirishima x afab!black!reader.

word count: 1.2k

warning: body image issues, insecurity, suggestive?, [non-sexual] body worship, praise, caressing, NO SMUT.

clo said—honestly, i’m having less than satisfactory thoughts about myself and wrote about my feelings and what i need. this isn’t meant to glorify any kind of negative body image or eating disorder, i truly just wrote about something i could relate to. i understand that this could be extremely triggering so don’t feel pressured to read this. i hope none of you have gone through this and if you have, i hope you know that i’m here for you. happy reading.

depollute me, pretty baby

suck the rot right out of my bloodstream

y/n sat on the floor of their bathroom as they stared at their body in the mirror, a few stray tears escaping their eyes. it was a bad habit of theirs to check their body and make mental notes on the areas that they could lose weight in. they sometimes even went as far as to plan how they would lose said weight, only for them to forget within the span of three days. they only did this when they knew eijirou would be gone for a while, fearing what he would say if he saw them like this. he was big on positivity and it’d kill him if he saw his significant other sitting on the floor, having less than positive thoughts about themselves.

‘another twelve pounds. what happened to wanting to lose weight, y/n?’ they thought to themselves.

y/n was so caught up in their thoughts that they didn’t hear the front door open and they didn’t hear when he called out for them twice. that’s how kirishima found them staring off into the mirror with a wet face and frown, quickly putting two and two together. he stepped behind y/n, snapping them out of their thoughts when they saw his figure in the mirror. they grabbed his their discarded shirt and quickly pulled it on before turning to look at him.

“i thought you’d be home late,” y/n said, embarrassed as they stood up and walked to the sink, hoping to wash their tear stricken face. before they could reach the porcelain appliance, eijirou pulled them towards him.

“i’m glad i came home early. otherwise, you would’ve been left completely alone with your thoughts. i’m sorry i wasn’t here,” kirishima mumbled, disappointed in himself for not noticing how you felt.

“it’s not your fault, eiji. i didn’t want you to worry,” they mumbled into the crook of his neck as they felt fresh tears pool in their eyes. this is exactly what they didn’t want. kirishima had his own bad habit of blaming himself for things that he couldn’t control. y/n didn’t want to add additional stress on top of his hero duties and figured that this was something that they could handle on their own. this isn’t how they wanted him to find out if he ever did.

“are you hungry? i bought us dinner on my way home from the agency. i noticed that you didn’t write anything on the calendar about dinner for today and figured i could bring something home,” he asked as he pulled back enough to see his lover’s face. he noticed the new tears and brushed them away only for more to come. “it’s alright, love. let it out. i’m here for you.”

“i’m so sorry,” y/n sniffled as they cried harder. kirishima rubbed their back as he led them back into the bedroom.

oh, you kissed me

just to kiss me

not to take me home

he carefully laid them down on the bed before laying next to them, wrapping his arms around their frame as they faced each other. he held them tightly and let a few of his own tears fall at the sight of his distressed lover. his brightness was so dim as he held them in his arms.

“talk to me, doll. i’d like to help you if you’d let me,” he whispered. y/n looked at his face before letting a few more tears fall.

“i just… i don’t feel beautiful, eiji. i know that you call me beautiful or gorgeous, but i can’t bring myself to feel that way. i feel like i embarrass you when we’re seen in public. i’m not slim like those pro-heroines and i’m definitely not as beautiful. i gained twelve pounds whilst on a diet. i love my complexion, but the beauty standards here insult it. i try so hard… just to not receive good results. i just want to feel pretty, eiji. i want to feel pretty so bad,” y/n sobbed as they confessed their worries to him.

eijirou was lost for words. he never imagined that his usually upbeat significant other felt like this. he never would’ve suspected them being insecure or body conscious because he knew they were beautiful. his friends and co-workers even recognized y/n as gorgeous externally, so their doubts were surprising.

“can you look at me, darling?” he asked softly. he didn’t want to force them to do anything. he was elated when y/n met his gaze. “you’re absolutely beautiful. inside and out. i didn’t know you felt like this because in my eyes, and many others, you’re stunning. i know my words aren’t enough to soothe your worries, but i meant it when i said you are the most attractive person i’ve ever laid my eyes on. ‘m not just saying that because i’m your man, but because it’s true. there aren't enough words to express how beautiful you are.”

there was a short silence between the two before kirishima leaned in and kissed y/n’s lips. “please let me show you how beautiful you are,” he requested, planting soft but meaningful kisses on their face.

if i said you could never touch me

you’d come over and say i looked lovely.

“i don’t wanna have sex tonight,” y/n said, hesitating in case they disappointed him.

“sex isn’t on my mind tonight. i just want to worship you like you deserve. if you don’t want me to, i won’t and i’ll just hold you,” he tightened his hold to show y/n that it was truly up to them and that they were in control.

“go ahead. i’d like it if you helped me.”

at their approval, kirishima re-situated himself between their legs before pushing their shirt up above their chest. he looked up y/n to receive their consent once more before placing a few kisses on their collarbone. he moved slowly, traveling to their sternum and down further to the pudge on their stomach. y/n hummed at the feeling of his hands running over their body.

“i wish you knew how beautiful you are. if you need my help in any way, please come to me. you can always lean on me, love. it hurt to see you closed off in the bathroom, judging your gorgeous body,” as he whispered, he left longer kisses on a more intimate place of their body. he hoped that through his actions, he would be able to convey his feelings.

he ran his hands over their plush thighs, massaging them slightly as he looked down at the beautiful human being under him. his motions soothed their body and some of their insecurities, showing them how beautiful they truly were. washing their sorrows away when he left those lingering kisses.

he ceased his motions when he reached their face once more. he maintained eye contact until y/n closed their eyes with a small smile. he pressed barely there kisses along their cheek bones and on their forehead. he took their face between his large hands and kisses their soft lips with enough emotion to bring them to tears.

“thank you, eiji,” y/n said, wrapping their arms around him, cuddling deeper into him.

“of course, doll.”

it was simple

you are sweetness

let’s just sit a while.

© all rights reserved to yuzuhablvd. do not repost, plagiarized, or falsely claim my work. likes, comments, and reblogs are welcome!

YOU SIT ON THEIR LAP RANDOMLY !

sfw. ft. ayato, childe, kaeya, diluc.

AYATO. he pretends like nothing happened. he acts so naturally when you just sit down on his lap, just puts his arm around your waist, very casually. doesn’t break the conversation, but knows damn well that you are flustered. it makes him feel a bit of satisfaction that your plan backfired, and he flustered you, instead of the opposite <3 

CHILDE. he loves it. it doesn’t surprise him at all, almost teases you about it. he just holds you by your hips, and makes you face him, with your legs on either side of his hips. even though it was you who initiated it, it’s him who took control of the situation. he doesn’t let you stand up from there, it’s just way too comfortable for him.

KAEYA. he won’t mind at all. similar to ayato, pays almost no mind to it. oh, but he has to mention that his lap must be your favorite place to sit. his teasing and cheesy way of flirting can never miss out, so you totally expected that reaction from him. you get a neck kiss in return for his lame jokes.

DILUC. he gets flustered. not too much or visible, but his heart definitely starts to beat faster, and his face starts to feel hot. not that you haven’t sat on his lap before, he just… didn’t expect it. especially not where people can see. he tries to act natural, sliding an arm around your waist, but you can feel his slight nervousness. 

toman guys as classmates

Mikey: begs you to say “present” for him during attendance while he knocks out and u do bc he trades it for his taiyaki 🐡

Draken: once witnessed a guy walk in front of u w out holding the door open and used him as a door stop next time he sees him n lets u in first like “after u” 🚪

Mitsuya: gave u his jacket to wrap around ur waist when u stained your pants from ur period 🩸

Chifuyu: you switched earrings w him one day and walked around w his hoop while he wore your diamond stud 💎

Baji: brought a kitten to school and let u pet it in exchange for helping him spell a few words for homework 🐱

Kazutora: gives you the other half of his ear buds and puts u on good music kinda emo and distressing but ur vibing so 😗

Akkun: braids your hair while u ignore the lecture 👧

Takemichi: literally you both sit in class lost as hell wondering if you’re even in the right class 🥴

Smiley: always eating in class and offering you the bigger half of his snacks 🥺

Angry: always has hand sanitizer or a bandaid for you when you get hurt or something 🥲

Sanzu: the type to throw a desk around for a very minor inconvenience but also very kind to u….So…😵‍💫

Ran: gives you one of his hair ties when you need to tie your hair up for gym 🤸‍♀️

Rindou: let’s you draw on his forearms during art and color in his tattoos 🖍

Hanma: lets u take a hit off his vape during lunch 💨

[ TO LOVE ] SCARAMOUCHE.

to love is to betray—at least that’s how scaramouche has always seen it.

and then he meets you.

“this is my bath,” you tease him lightly, and even despite the shooing motion of your hand, even despite the soft glare sent your way, you still make room for him to settle between your legs.

“well, it’s also mine now too,” he huffs.

he leans his back against your chest, let’s his body melt in against yours, let’s the soft trace of your hands fill the empty cracks with something he’s lacked for long time.

scaramouche is almost certain you realize he’s in love with you before he comes close to knowing himself. and it’s funny—even though you fall first, he falls harder.

maybe it’s just the world being cruel once again, just as it always has been with him. it’s cruel, downright evil, really, that something about you makes him forget so easily who he is, who he’s supposed to be. love has always written itself as betrayal—but you make it seem so promising, luring out the softest parts of him, the naive ones that hope and hope…just to crumble in the end, like always.

but then you wash his hair, lathering shampoo into your hands and working through his hair softly, slowly, delicately like he’s fragile.

“admit it. you just like it when i wash your hair, huh?” and you’re still teasing, still using that slightly amused tone when you speak to him. he should be insulted, he thinks, but there’s a smile on his face.

for a moment, he notes that he’s lucky his back is facing you and the smile stretched across his lips is hidden—otherwise you’d have the satisfaction of knowing you’re right. because he does love when you wash his hair, he loves the closeness and the safety and the feeling of being wanted. of being cherished. of being something to someone without having to earn it first.

but he can’t bring himself to admit it, so instead, he scoffs, leaning more weight onto you as he quirks a brow.

“well, why wash it myself if you’re around?”

it’s his way of giving himself the upper hand—his way of convincing himself that love is not the reason why he so desperately chases the tenderness of your fingers against his scalp. no, instead, he convinces himself that mortals such as you were made to serve him like this. to treat him like he’s holy and divine, like he’s the god you’re meant to worship as you kiss his shoulder with a giggle.

“that’s true,” you hum, “why would you do it when i can take care of you?”

but you’re different—and it scares him a little. you don’t worship him like he’s a deity, like he’s all mighty and the answer to your prayers. instead, you simply love him, like it’s a choice, like it’s something you want.

you cover his eyes as you rinse out the suds. love. you cup his cheek and admire him. love. you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, teasingly grazing over his lips before pulling away. love.

everything about you is completely in love—but to love is to betray, and he knows the inevitable will be soon to come.

so he denies the urge to pull you back in, ignores the almost painful need to feel your lips press against his, turns away every part of him that screams to let i love you spill from his lips.

because every time he loves, every time he so graciously gives every piece of himself—like the heart he doesn’t have, even offering the parts that don’t exist and giving them up anyway—love always tastes like a bitter sip of betrayal.

i love you, he wants to say. but he knows as soon as the words slip, so will you from his fingers. just like the last time—just like the first.

“you don’t need to take care of me,” he grunts, “i’m fine on my own.”

“on your own,” you hum in thought, as if you’re carefully taking in his words. “isn’t that lonely?” you ask softly. by now, your hand has resigned to rubbing slow circles into his chest, pulling him in closer, almost as if proving a point.

i’m right here. you’re not alone.

“no,” he says stubbornly, “i’m above needing—”

“cause sometimes i’m lonely,” you admit, cutting him off. there’s no shame in your voice, not even a trace of hurt or sadness or even hatred. instead, you smile, pressing another kiss to his shoulder, and then the crook of his neck as you murmur, “but i guess not so much when i’m with you.”

“me?”

“yeah,” you nod, resting your chin on his shoulder, cheek pressed against his, “you. cause i love you, you know?”

and once again, scaramouche realizes he’s in love. he’s been so painfully in love for so long—and he thinks you’ve known it for even longer.

and to love is to betray, he thinks—but you’re still here, still holding him tight in your arms as you smile into his skin. so he finds a little hope, a little relief, as he closes his eyes and listens to your heartbeat against his back.

after a moment, with a tight grip on your thigh and wobbly lips, he quietly whispers, “i think i love you too.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

pairing: akaashi x reader

genre: fluff

prompt: somehow, i always seem to end up here, with you

you had always loved going to the park whenever you felt sad. no matter what time of the day it was you would always find yourself there. it was relaxing and only a few people went to that park since they preferred to study in the library, cafes or their own dorms.

today was one of those days where you just weren’t feeling it. you had just received an email from one of your professors regarding your score in one of his major exams. the one you studied so hard for 75/100 written in bold. it was barely passing for your standards.

it was already late but who cares, you wanted to go to your happy place on campus even if it’s the middle of the night. you grabbed your keys and put on your shoes and headed for the park.

the walk was silent, only seeing a person from time to time, maybe they were walking back to the dorms after a party. you didn’t really care though.

you arrived at the park noticing another person there, and you realised it was akaashi keiji the boy from your history class.

you approached the boy wanting to talk to him and maybe because you had a little crush on him. he saw you and smiled at you when he realised who you were.

“somehow, i always seem to end up here, with you” you chuckled at him

“i guess so. this is the only place that seems to have normal people and besides it’s more quiet here” he noticed that you were shaking a bit, probably from the cold. he took off his jacket and handed it to you. “here, you look like you need it”

you gladly took the jacket thinking how dumb it was for you to bring your own and muttered a “thanks” he responded with “no problem. hey wanna get some lunch tomorrow after class?”

“sure” you smiled thinking maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

HOW THEY WAKE YOU UP.

cw. mentions of food note. 'cause i've been waking up too early these days

izuku brushes your hair away from your eyes gently, leaning down to kiss your forehead while mumbling, “good morning.” when you stir awake, he places a tray full of your favorite breakfast food on your lap with a soft smile, making small talk while you eat. “did you sleep well?”

bakugou makes you breakfast and sets the table before he goes back to your bedroom and caresses your cheek, “c'mon, wake up before your food gets cold.” once you're awake, he'd pull you to your feet and lead the way to the kitchen and sit you down, kissing the top of your head in the process.

denki somehow manages to go to sleep at 3-4am and wake up before 6, so he'll be the one to wake you up. sometimes, he'll even tickle you just for the fun of it, but apologizes right away if you're mad at him. frequently, “hey baby.... it's time to rise and shine!” followed by a kiss to your nose is what wakes you up.

sero who's definitely not a morning person, but still manages to wake up before you on days you have to leave early, he'll place kisses all over your face, saying, “babe, you're going to be late,” if you brush him off. he'll hand you a messily wrapped tiffin box, “i made you breakfast and lunch” but won't let you leave before you give him a proper kiss.

shoto — like a typical mother, opens the curtains and lets the sunlight stream into the room. he then goes up to your sleeping figure and urges you to wake up while he brushes your hair away from your face, “hey darling, we have to go soon.” once you wake up, he's leaning in to kiss your forehead, “good morning, my love.”

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

JJK BOYS’ REACTION WHEN YOU RECIEVE AN ANONYMOUS LOVE LETTER !

an. pls take this shit while i work on reqs ok ty ly

ft. itadori, fushiguro, gojo, nanami, inumaki, junpei x gn!reader

wc. 1.2k

genre. fluff

► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►

ITADORI YUJI — it’s not that yuji doesn’t care, but he’s just so… casual about it?? he sees you pick up another letter on your desk and he’s like “oh cool, another one?” bro. what. idk why but himbo yuji<3 just popped into my head if he catches your secret admirer placing the letters on your desk, it’ll be a complete accident like nanami’s. yuji will just tell them - “hey, you know that’s my s/o’s desk, right?” SO plainly and casually LOL, might even ask if they want him to pass on the letter to you, yuji. baby. ..however! if at any point you’ve expressed that you really don’t like these letters or just feel uncomfortable because of them, yuji will go out of his way to stop it - he cares about your feelings more than anything. i don’t see yuji as a jealous or insecure person, and plus, he thinks his s/o’s beautiful, he obviously knew other people would see and feel the same way. again, at the end of the day, all he cares about in this scenario is your feelings.

Keep reading

— 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

pairing: izuku midoriya / gn!reader.

summary: the moments after you confess to izuku.

content: fluff, slow-dancing, crying, this is so sweet i might die <3

word count: 660.

notes: sorry my blog has been dead :( here’s some izuku bc i miss him.

starlights glints off the ocean rolling in over takoba beach, purplish in the dying light.

in your arms you hold the world and his name is izuku midoriya. it's a rare moment of peace, of repose, and you intend to take advantage of it as best you can. it's not often you have him like this, breathing deeply, so relaxed you might believe he was asleep against your shoulder if it weren't for the trembling of his hands where they rest on your middle. the cool, salty breeze whipping off the seafront lifts and tangles his hair, brushing across your face, and you catch the scent of apples and sweat.

there's some beach party happening a while away down the coast. the gentle thumps of bass echo out, humming through the sand, and you can just barely pick up phantom melodies occasionally over the roaring of the ocean and your own heartbeats in your ears. you sway where you stand, cold sand burrowing between your toes, your sandals held in one hand.

"i'm sorry," he whispers at one point, but you shush him with a hand on the small of his back. he leans into the touch with a shudder, knocks his head against your collarbone.

"it's okay," you mumble into his hair. "you don't have to hold back. it's okay."

"i'm just." his mouth works against your shoulder soundlessly as he searches for the words. "i'm so happy."

you shut your eyes, fighting back a smile. "so am i."

"y-you're not just saying that, are you?" he lifts his head, eyes wide and beseeching, cheeks stained muted pink. moonlight glimmers in the green, earnest and heartwrenchingly unsure. you kiss the plump apple of his cheek fondly.

"no," you mumble into his skin. his freckles shine like the stars above you, swelling with scarlet as his flush deepens. "i'm happy. you make me so happy, izuku."

"oh." his voice catches; when you pull back, his eyes are wide and swimming with tears. as he realises this, he wrenches one of his arms free and scrubs embarrassedly at his face. "s-sorry, i'm... b-being a crybaby again. i - i just never thought that you... that we..."

"you're so silly." you tug at a curl of his hair affectionately. "i can't believe you thought i didn't like you back. i thought i was being so obvious."

he buries his face in his hands with a whine. "i - i'm just not very good at - i mean, e-everyone said you did, but i didn't think..."

"it's okay." when you wind your fingers around that curl of green hair and brush his earlobe, he chokes, and it's so endearing you have to hold yourself back from pinching his cheek. "i guess it all worked out in the end, right?"

his eyes shine, brilliantly green over the lovesick pink of his face. "right," he murmurs. "thank you."

"what're you thanking me for, silly?" you chuckle. "for liking you? you did that all by yourself, y'know. you're so... you're everything. to me, i mean. shit, that was so corny."

izuku stares at you, slack-jawed, eyes as round as coins. "y-you... you mean that?" his hands twitch and take sudden fistfuls of your clothing, bunching the fabric at your waist in instinctive desperation. "you really..."

you wind your hands around his wrists. "i do. i have. i never knew how to say it, but..."

tears slip and roll down his plump cheeks. "y-you're... everything to me too," he chokes out, voice strangled with emotion, and your heart crumbles in your chest. "i almost c-can't believe this is real."

you huff a quiet laugh. "even if it isn't, i'll tell you again tomorrow," you promise. "and the next day, and the next, until it becomes real to you. okay?"

and izuku flushes brilliantly, relents his grip on your clothing you bury his head in your shoulder. as you wind your arms around his waist, you feel the world trembling.

"okay."

Resolve ★ Kazuha

— ★ Scry: Solar Scintilla + Kazuha — ★ Genre: Platonic + Fluff — ★ Concept: There are times when he wakes up crying and cold, but those are quick to dissipate after remembering that he's been blessed with fate's mercy. — ★ Words: 3.6k — First Part: Vigil — ★ Blood A/N: Although the scry didn't explicitly state to be in Vigil's universe- 'solar scintilla' is an invitation- I hope anon dear didn't mind eeeee— read the first part (original) for context!

“Nee-san, come look!”

“My, what’s this?”

Little Kazuha beams as he shows the contents of his paper, watching his older sibling try to make sense of his drawing, “It’s home!”

“It’s pretty—but I don’t see a house?” [Name] flips the parchment to look at its backside, but there is nothing.

“There’s no need for one,” he smiles, “Because us two makes a home!”

A samurai lives with honor and vigilance, striking down foes with a wayward strike of a blade.

Known weaknesses are to be overcome and be a root of power, and with each descent of a comrade in the battlefield equates to honoring their death and trudging on to triumph over the war.

This creed is held above all for those who wield the sword, and Kazuha is no different from it.

It becomes his reason the moment his hand burns with the transient blaze of his friend’s Vision—becoming his purpose as he flees from Tenshukaku.

He has rooted deep into his heart the reality that he will have to respect Tomoaki’s decision. Accepted that he will honor him by bearing the now masterless Vision in hopes that one day, something greater will trounce that vicious lightning.

That passing shall be his source of strength, he will proceed with his own war.

But he later realizes with grave denial that he is far from being prepared to live by the code of the samurai.

“You…” a broken whisper in the cold.

He is not ready to march on his battlefield alone. It is an inopportune time—a cruel hand of destiny, a devastating turn of events. He did not want this.

He doesn’t want to honor this.

“Have to leave me.. Kazu..” a tiny plea lost to his ears.

Underneath the eternal squall that plays a part in fate’s cruel thesis, the fugitive runs with only the wind and his resolve as his incentives.

The lasting echoes of numerous bellows make him run faster.

But the heavy rain lags him down. The stormfall minutes ago has at long last begun to pour its tears, crying for a tragedy that is minutes away from reaching fruition.

Not if he goes against it, though.

Another murmur resounds, more desperate than ever, “They will catch you..”

The burn in his chest, the ache in his limbs, the mist in his eyes—why is it that even his body is going against his will?

Why must even he fall victim to this tragic play?

“I’m only slowing you down.”

He can’t allow it—no, he won’t allow it.

The boat is close—he has managed to outrun the shogunate, there is no way he’s stopping now.

The arms around his neck start to unlink themselves, letting go after the realization that he will not bend to the wish to let go. Feeling the deliberate loss of security on his person, he begins to panic.

Stop it. He can’t pause midway to move his sister from his back into his arms, there’s no time. Stop it… !

Amid the cold, he feels warmth seeping into the fabric of his already soaked clothes.

It’s his kin’s blood.

And just being here, bare in the watching eyes of life, trying to rescue someone who—despite is knocking on death’s door—still thinks of him in her last moments, makes him rasp out a sob he’s been trying to keep at bay.

“[Name], please just let me save you,”

His voice gets muffled by the rain and the shouting, but he knows his sister can hear him well, what with the responsive twitch of her fingers.

I cannot let it end like this, he thinks after recalling how bright [Name] had been when talking about the future. You cannot pass like this.

Why is that when he has finally started to reach back for the fingers that have grasped his—they are withdrawing farther and farther from him? Is this the universe’s reprisal for his negligence?

For knowing only how to lament and regret when everything is already too late?

“Please..” he tightens the hook of his grip on his sibling’s legs.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just please—please don’t take her.

Though he doesn’t remember when his thoughts begin to overpour with his grief, nor does he know who listens to his prayers, he doesn’t care.

Don’t take my sister from me.

He cries, “I can’t lose you, too.”

“…”

The sound of the rain is all that there is, but he doesn’t let up.

In all honesty, he believes that his voice no longer reached his sibling—that he’s far little, too late, and the hope inside is dying- but then he feels quivering hands latch onto him again.

Weak, barely even noticeable—but he does notice, and he almost cries out in utter relief, but he knows the battle has not ended yet.

He does not stop moving even after he has gently set the lady in the boat and he moves to push it in the waters.

Does not let his aching muscles ease as he summons a burst of wind that helps propel them forward and guide them in the direction of Yashiori.

Everything is a blur to him afterward, though he does remember his tremors as he overlooked the paling form of his sister and her open wound.

He remembers arriving at the shore near Fort Fujitou, having barely escaped the arrows from passing the shogunate stationed at the borders of Kannazuka.

No matter how hard he tries to cling to his sense of reason, the mix of hysteria and panic is enough to conquer rationality.

It’s still raining when he takes his kin into his arms to race towards the resistance camp some distance away.

But he has overestimated his body—before he knows it, his legs have given up on him and he falls onto the sand.

The horror that gnaws at his conscious intensifies after seeing his sister’s body roll away, followed by a feeble yet sharp groan of pain.

Washing away towards the rolling tides near them is a dull hue of red, darkening to crimson.

An endless stream of blood.

But what captures his focus the most is not the stream, but the pair of [c]s and the hand that is reaching out.

The unpleasant telltale of disquietude tears out raw distress and he almost breaks back into tears seeing his dying kin reach for him.

With newfound resolve and clawed fingers against the sand, Kazuha pushes himself up—only to collapse, the strain on his body too much to overcome.

His vision begins to blacken and—no, no, no, no.

I can’t, not now.. ! Even moving his arms have gotten so difficult, but he keeps on struggling- keeps on fighting. I’m so close… someone..

He mirrors the action, hand reaching forward to the distant figure of his sister in a silent cry of desperation. Please-!

But his vision finally fades to black.

Nee-san… !

Kazuha gasps, resurfacing from the ghoulish clutch of the night’s terror with a lurch from his bed.

His hand is hanging in midair, reaching for nonexistence—at least, now that he’s awake, there is nothing he’s reaching for.

Still at the crest of consternation, the dropping of his arm is slow, like the turning cogs and gears in his mind that start to make sense of what’s happened.

Another—another awful nightmare. What’s the count again?

Oh, who is he kidding, he no longer is able to take count of it.

It’s always the same dreamscape whenever he escapes to his slumbers, the fear, the denial… he still feels them even after waking up.

A raw wound—an eternal scar.

He tries not to think much of it, knowing that there’s nothing to worry over now.

But all that greets him when he closes his eyes is the blood—the spear, the time of impalement, and he all but throws his covers away in mild annoyance.

There is no way he can sleep now. That is basically just inviting the nightmares again.

With unease nestling in his still racing heart, he makes the decision to leave his cabin as silently as possible—so as to not wake those who sleep in the same room.

The rest has had enough of waking him up when he’s stuck in those horrible terrors and couldn’t for the life of him open his eyes.

The timid rock of the Alcor as it continues its voyage in the sea thankfully gives him some peace of mind, though it can never replicate the comfort provided by the elder Kaedehara.

He ascends to the main deck where he sees Beidou behind the wheel, her good eye leading him to the starboard.

Sitting upon the barrels nearby is none other than his sibling, who seems to be stitching something under the light of the moon.

His chest immediately surges with relief. She’s alright.

Sometimes, all he really needs is the reminder that his resolve did not fail him—that his fear can be put to ease knowing that the [c]-eyed lady is still alive.

“Oh, Kazuha, you can’t sleep?”

He shakes his head at this, almost embarrassed, but the understanding smile on his sister’s face tells him that everything is fine.

She pats the space next to her in a wordless invitation and the samurai doesn’t hesitate at all, taking the chance to revel in the comforting solace.

The latter realizes that the fabric being worked on is the scarf, its golden trim being fixed.

“What has gotten you up?” her voice is as kind as ever, already on the precipice of giving succor if need be.

It has the kind of cadence that will urge one not to lie even if it’s for the sake of not worrying her.

Perhaps he didn’t notice that he has failed to respond as quickly as usual—or maybe it’s because his answer is already known before it can form into words, for a hand is already laying upon his wrist.

[Name]’s expression is blunt with understanding.

“Oh, Kazu,” her murmur is soft, almost lost in the evening wind, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

The way his taut limbs go lax at the gentle reminder he so desired to hear is almost pitying, but he can’t be bothered to care.

Closing his eyes, he takes in a sigh of relief, grateful for the wind’s gentle caress.

The comfortable atmosphere proceeds without any interruption, the ambiance only being the breeze’s encapsulating sound and the sloshing of the tides against the hulls.

“You need not be scared any longer,” he opens his eyes after hearing his sibling speak, turning his eyes towards her—though she’s still engrossed with fixing the scarf.

“Do you remember when you came back to Inazuma to fight alongside the Traveler?”

Ah… he hums, letting his memory reel in the scenes just a few weeks ago, “Of course.”

When he blacked out by Fort Fujitou after his dire escape from the city, the General has found and taken him to camp. [Name] has been personally treated by the Divine Priestess and.

Kazuha has never been so grateful in his entire life.

Just being able to recall the miracle—the shred of mercy, the saving light in his darkening world—is enough to drive him back to tears.

In a rather dismaying case, however, he still has to leave the camp. He’s a fugitive then, after all, and he couldn’t bear to endanger the Resistance.

He left with a promise to help overturn the tides when he returns with more allies and swears to grant them any favor, be it big or small, in exchange for keeping his sister safe.

[Name]’s comatose forbade them from saying goodbye.

It hurt—and his eyes still stung when he left, even still when he came across Beidou.

He recalls attempting to reawaken his friend’s Vision as a way to lift himself up from the cliff of his negativity, and thus he met the Traveler, whose journey requires them to head towards the land of eternity.

Kazuha wished to step down from the Alcor then but knew it to be a reckless move, so he kept himself patient.

How can he forget the moment his feet stepped onto the shoal of Nazuchi when the time has finally come to battle against the forces brought by Kujou?

And in the aftermath of the battle, when they have succeeded and will return to camp, he can’t ever lose the memory of his speeding heart.

When Kazuha looks at his sister now, he can only envision the second he sees the same silver hair standing out from the crowd weeks ago.

[Name] had been treating the wounded and had just finished passing the bandages when their eyes had met.

The world is a blur after that. Nothing else mattered other than the tight embrace shared between them amid tears.

If he dwells on that memory for a while longer, he swears he can feel the warmth from that hug.

“You know, I’ve always had my doubts about leaving Inazuma,” [Name] stops with her work, setting the materials aside as she lifts the newly stitched scarf with a smile.

Kazuha hums, not expecting the divulgence. This is new.

He never really knows how his wanderlust is perceived, so to say that he’s intrigued is more than correct.

The scarf is lowered back onto [Name]’s lap as she caresses its fabric, her smile turning more nostalgic and despondent.

“Because all my life, I’ve devoted my time to making sure that you’ll grow up in a place that you can really call home,” with a wistful tone, she continues.

“Sometimes I even thought of marrying into one of the renowned clans if it means helping to restore the Kaedehara’s honor and give you the luxury that we lost. Leaving means forgetting my purpose.”

He is a part of that purpose.

His first outward reaction to this is to flinch.

I.. wasn’t aware of such plans, he swallows thickly. All this time, you’ve been doing everything for me.

Perplexed, he turns to his sibling, grasping her by the arm and taking her by surprise.

“You needn’t do such things… !” he breathes out in concern, worried that this mindset carried over until the present, “I am beyond content even with the way things are now, you—”

He zips his lips and bites down on them. You needn’t sacrifice more of your happiness for my sake…

[Name] pats the hand on her arm in a gentle fashion, reassuring, “I know, that is why I joined you. I had a time of repose and epiphany when we reunited.”

She takes a few moments for herself, letting nothing but her [c] eyes speak of the hundred of words she cannot utter in a second. Still, it eases the samurai.

“What you said as I was treating your wounds struck me a lot… do you remember it?”

He does, with perfect clarity.

Kazuha had been drowning in the words and emotions he’s suppressed that when he spilled even a portion of it, the dam was breaking.

He refused the healing offered by the Divine Priestess to be treated by his sister, instead.

And when they’re alone—he finally spoke of it.

“In the first suns and moons following the fruition of my wanderlust, it’s been lonesome,” he remembers the words as if he said it yesterday.

“For although a haven has been provided by the Crux, I’ve come to realize that I am not entirely delighted in my travels.”

He remembers [Name]’s look of confusion—because why would he be not content when his wish was to travel all along?

He remembers the way her hands gently tremored at the notion of another departure, remembers the look of loneliness in those eyes- that he just falls silent again and allows his memory to reign free.

“’It ails me to know that I left home’,” [Name] chuckles, “That’s what you said before asking me to join you.”

“I apologize for my selfishness, but—will you join me?”

He purses his lips with a nod. Because I’ve learned that you are my sanctuary—and I can’t bear to leave again.

“I realized then that perhaps leaving wouldn’t be so bad, not when my little brother is there with me to make it worthwhile.”

Kazuha watches with slightly wide eyes as the black and red scarf is placed on his person, snuggling around his neck in a perfect fit, complementing his attire.

“After all,”

Because the last time he was given this same article of clothing, he rejected it. Oh, was that such a foolish move of his.

[Name] gives him an endearing smile.

The same one she gave him when she woke him from his nightmares, when she told him to come back safe in the night—when she only thought of his welfare as she pleaded to be left behind so that he can escape.

“Us two together makes a home.”

He is instantaneously swept over by a wave of nostalgia.

It has his fingers rising to clasp the scarf around his neck, wary that if he chooses to hug his sibling, it may hurt her.

Eyes glossing and heart weighing—because even after all those years, she still remembers that—, he shakes.

Nee-san…

Although he does not say anything, [Name] nods, welcoming his wishes with the slight opening of her arms.

Kazuha does not turn away from this, scooting closer and making himself comfortable in the loving embrace.

The fact that he’s no longer a child does not even faze him in the slightest—in fact, he wallows in his own grief within it.

How could he have ever turned a blind eye to his only sister when all that she’s done was for him alone?

He made mistakes at a heavy cost, nuanced changing behaviors that progressed arguments and yet—

A tear slips past his eye. And yet you still honor and accept me.

It’s this heart-wrenching realization that bolsters the samurai’s resolve to do right this time around. To cherish, to respect, to be grateful.

He swears upon himself, as he’s lulled to sleep by the brushes upon his hair, over and over again.

I will return all that you gave me.

“Anchors!”

The Alcor is beginning to dock and as usual, many are waiting by the pier for various reasons—perhaps a returning loved one, or foreign goods.

Regardless, everyone’s faces are full of mirth.

It is rather contagious, but Kazuha doesn’t need its influence to work up a smile of his own. His reason is already standing by him.

“So this is Liyue…” a murmur of awe and disbelief, “It’s beautiful… what will we do here?”

To ease his stiff neck and aching shoulders—to sleep on mere barrels whilst sitting was uncomfortable but worth it—he rolls them a few times, taking an ample amount of time to respond.

Not like it’s a bad thing, he actually doesn’t want to impede his sister from admiring the harbor.

“Aside from a few commissions I plan to take for earnings, I wish to show you all that I’ve explored in the meantime.”

This will be the first time he’ll take up commissions.

It’s a new feat but not something he’s not willing to do. If this is to be any other case in which he’ll travel alone, he will simply make things work even if he has to sleep outside and hunt.

But now that someone is traveling with him—someone who has allotted all her time for his sake and growth—he will turn to… proper means of living.

He’d hate to make this any harder than it is.

“I’ve heard of some festival in a few days’ time, as well,” he informs as they bid farewell and thanks to the crew, at long last stepping onto the harbor of a different nation.

It almost feels surreal to watch [Name] take a step—almost hesitant as if she’s still in disbelief—forward, turning her eyes to all possible directions in muted excitement. Seeing it is rather bittersweet.

He hasn’t seen her this happy—and he didn’t expect himself to feel just as jovial. Oh, what a wonderful feeling this is.

“I heard of glaze lilies and dandelions, oh, it’d be a sight to see them.”

Dandelions?

Kazuha hums at the familiar sound of the flora before nodding, “Ah, those are found in the city of wind. A neighboring nation.”

“Mm..”

He knows that distant look anywhere. It’s almost foreign. He hasn’t seen it in a long time but still knows what it means—perhaps, this is because they are siblings.

You’ve always kept silent about your own wishes because you’re prioritizing mine, he sighs. That won’t do now.

“We can visit if you so wish.”

The way those [c]s flash alight with a gleam so beautiful and liberated makes him stop breathing for a moment. Happy.

Nee-san… his voice is lost. For a second—it seems like they haven’t surfaced from great troubles and everything is fine.

“Truly?” [Name] smiles, radiant and blooming and alive.

Feeling his heart warm with gratitude—for the universe’s mercy—and ease, Kazuha allows himself to smile.

Oh, who is he kidding?

“Of course.”

As long as they are together, there will be no rainclouds.

“That’s lovely! Oooh, I’m rather excited—but wait, we must eat first! I overheard some people talking about a restaurant, let’s go!” [Name] claps before darting into the crowd.

Kazuha buzzes in shock, hurrying after her with a call of, “Nee-san!”

Just a reviving bond, a pleasant journey…

“I understand your eagerness, but please do not rush so suddenly,” the samurai sighs, much to [Name]’s giggles.

“My bad, but! It seems like we found what we’re looking for. Shall we?”

The older Kaedehara begins to amble through the sea of people again and Kazuha follows, his fingers pinching the ends of his sister’s sleeve.

... And a loving home.

a/n: at long last... the alternate ending.. A HAPPY ENDING! FOR KAZUHA AND NEE-SAN .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

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