SEE NO EVIL.

          while  tuning  in  to  the  esper’s  explanatory  address  of  his  circumstances,  he  couldn’t  have  missed  the  correlation  hanging  between  them.   a  slight  quirk  to  his  mouth,  his  inkling  of  interest  blossoms  into  a  not  so  unpleasant  surprise.   their  combat   SUPREMACY   was  a  source  of  mileage  for  those  without  power,  or  individuals  lacking  the  means  to  have  power  –  hungry  ends  meet.   perhaps  all  capable  individuals  were  susceptible  to  this  high  demand  of  their  skills!

          the  prior  tension  in  his  combat  –  ready  form  has  subsided  into  an  indifferent,  assured  state  of  being.   unaffected  even  by  the  instance  of  a  foreign  touch,  perhaps  it’s  a  semblance  of  his   TRUST   in  this  shimazaki:   nearly  feline  in  the  deliberate,  slow  –  blinking  stare  he  directs  from  the  corner  of  his  eye.     ❛   the  scope  of  your  perception  is  surely  impressive.   i  presume  that  all  those  who  mistake  your  blindness  for  weakness  are  now  below  ground.   fortunately,  i  won’t  make  that  mistake.   ❜     the  lack  of  aggression  behind  his  voice  signals  that  this  is   LESS   a  proclamation  to  succeed  in  the  place  of  others  &   MORE   an  acknowledgement  of  capability.   how  rare   –   has  amicability  lowered  his  standards,  or  simply  allowed  them  to  be  voiced?

          the  overture  is  indulged  with  a  playful  tap  to  his  chin,  under  the  mere  pretense  of  consideration.     ❛   with  how  thoroughly  you’ve  informed  me  about  yourself,  i’m  rather  satisfied!   though,  you  have  admittedly  yet  to  answer   ONE   remaining  point  of  interest––––   ❜     words  suspended  with  a  moment  of  inactivity,  hand  stilling,  only  to  reach  behind  him  in a  flicker  of  nearly  imperceivable   SPEED.   what’s  produced  next  can  only  be  anyone’s  surprisingly  mundane  guess   –   a  mobile  screen  lighting  up  with  the  brightness  of  a  fresh  contact  page.   extended  good  –  naturedly  towards  the  other.     ❛   ––––YOUR   NUMBER.   ❜

        Well, isn’t that surprising! Shimazaki is, for once, actually somewhat caught off guard. His number? Just for a moment he thinks that this Sonic might be flirting with him, most people that ask for his number are, and he half considers reciprocating just for the fun of it. But he doesn’t, he can read the other’s movements, the way he holds himself, hears his breathing and his heartbeat, and it’s all calm, even; without the fast beating heart, the slightly shaking breaths that he’s come to associate with those that make a move on him.

        “Oh?” But he can still tease. “Next I suppose you’ll try to sweep me off my feet.”

        The phone is taken out of Sonic’s hand. Shimazaki fumbles, just for a moment, to find the voice to speech feature and ducks his head close to speak his name and his number into the contact information. When finished, he passes it back to the other. “Just text me, I will add you then.”

        It’s a little odd, a little foreign. Making friends, or whatever this is. To think only minutes before he may have very well attacked this man if things went easily awry. At least he would have been a formidable opponent. Maybe. Shimazaki may poke him a bit in the future, see what makes him tic. A friendly battle in the future isn’t out of the question, right? He’s been looking for some entertainment.

 “..good heavens.”   Sugimoto had been fairly excited when she noticed a visitor in her alley. She’d been feeling lonely, per usual, and could use some company. Maybe it was Josuke, or even Rohan, come to show her more of his illustrations!     Instead, a strange man entered the alley. That was normal, obviously. People got lost in the alley all the time, it was nothing new. What WAS new was the aura coming off of him- maybe she was just being paranoid, but she felt like she could see some sort of… energy about him. Whatever it was, it was rather frightening, and though she didn’t want to seem rude… she took a step back. She felt like she shouldn’t be SEEING this.   Clearing her throat, she offered a smile. “Are you lost, sir?” Sugimoto calls out to him, trying to avoid seeming offput. 

        Nothing in particular really drew him to this alley. To be honest, he only stepped inside to have a smoke so he could avoid the dirty looks from any passersby. Not that he necessarily cared, he just didn’t want to deal with it at the moment. And of course Shimazaki isn’t entirely unaware of another presence with him, not too far off, but he ignores it for now.

        He fishes his pack out of his jacket pocket; it’s nearly full, mostly because he doesn’t actually smoke too much. One cigarette is stuck between his lips and lit behind his hand, and he takes a long drag. It tastes like shit, it always does.

        “Hm?” Shimazaki turns his head towards the source of the voice. He can’t see whoever it is, but he can pick up their aura. Not as powerful as his own, but it also doesn’t seem to be...

        Alive?

        Huh.

rules: BOLD what applies to your muse and repost

SNOW WHITE.

jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS.

a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST.

lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD.

a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands. dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS.

sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP.

wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

“… Ah, sorry if I intruded in on something.” Jun can’t help the hostility in his tone. Each word is spoken carefully, a slight rigidness to his voice. He surely isn’t seeing things, is he … ?

@blindhavoc

        “Hm? No, we were just finishing up.” Fingers twitch, and the invisible vise grip he had on the wallet-snatcher releases, sending the man scrambling away, far away. Shimazaki slips one hand back into his pocket as he bends over, using the other to grab his wallet where it fell to the ground.

      His grip faltered at the confirmation. Water sloshed inside his pitcher, gradually stilling. The office plant he cared for had accepted enough to drink; even the dish it sat above was almost overflowing with muddied liquid. But he kept pouring. 

      What he might have done, or didn’t do made him feel as though somebody had injected his veins with ice water. He seldom prided his tendency to guess correctly during instances like these. Sometimes, being wrong blocked off shame that he deserved. 

      Reigen furrowed his brows when reminded of the advice he received upon waking. Silence subsisted because his open mouth failed to produce any sound, so he ended up closing it—only to have his jaw drop again. 

      “I kissed you.” 

      He could have walked backwards out of the room as if doing so would conveniently erase the mortification he cushioned in that moment. He could have laughed, not knowing how else to react. He could have lost consciousness from delayed humiliation alone. 

      And then he registered how close they were, the strong grip around his wrist, exposed, unmarked skin beneath defined collarbones, courtesy of the V-neck shirt Shimazaki often seemed to wear. Obscenely handsome features he routinely stole glances at throughout the work day contorted with unknown affliction, forcing his heart to stutter. 

      The follow-up request further aggravated his blush. Reigen stood stock-still, stammering uselessly in an attempt to communicate. He stared hard at the doorway, hesitating briefly. This was beyond unprofessional. But knowing that Shimazaki wanted the same clipped his self-discipline, and he brought their lips together again, closing the distance between them. 

        Like most things, he senses Reigen is about to move towards him before he actually does and yet it-- it still surprises him, somehow. There is a minute tightening of his hand around Reigen’s wrist as the gap between them closes, like he’s bracing himself for the worst even though he already knows what’s coming is far from that. Maybe he should think it’s bad, maybe he should stop this now. Reigen is his boss now, for Christ’s sake. But Shimazaki, despite the way he carried himself, despite how politely he often spoke, never cared much for professionalism.

        His hand releases Reigen’s wrist, but slides down to take the pitcher out of his grasp and practically drop it to the floor with a clatter. It’s a miracle it doesn’t tip over and spill, but even if it did Shimazaki hardly thinks he’d care. No, he’s too focused on their proximity, on how Reigen has to tilt his head up just a little to meet Shimazaki’s lips from his slightly shorter stature, how they fit together a little awkwardly at first because this is... well, new. Kissing wasn’t new to Shimazaki, of course not, but kissing Reigen --- properly kissing him, sober --- was... something he’d have to get used to, if given the chance.

        Their lips break away for a few moments, Shimazaki’s hand finding and cradling Reigen’s cheek.

        “I didn’t think you were the type of man to be taken by one of your employees, Reigen,” and the use of the other man’s last name in this context feels strange, but even he knows there are still boundaries---ones he’s not entirely sure if he’s allowed to cross yet. Shimazaki kisses him again, brief, laughing breathlessly against his lips. “Not that I mind. It’s a bit exciting, hm?”

     ❛ You think so ? ❜ Teru tilted his head with a hum, shifting to settle a hand at his waist. No, no he doesn’t believe he has any reason to feel like he does. Calm, at ease, and collected━ but of course he’s not a fool. He’s on guard, but that’s to be expected with a turn of events like so, but there’s no reason to be high-strung. 

     ❛ There isn’t any reason to act wary, right ? You said it yourself, you learned the lesson. Repeating it isn’t necessary, we already know the outcome. It’s best to just move on, if you have hard feelings. ❜

        “Hard feelings?” He can’t help but echo, reaching up to scratch at his jaw in thought. Were there any hard feelings? Truthfully, he can’t really tell. The boy’s presence doesn’t stoke as much anger or bitterness as Shimazaki would have expected it to. Maybe because enough time has passed for the wound to... mostly heal. Or maybe he really is moving on, growing, or however the hell they put it. “No, I don’t think there are any.”

        It is surprising, isn’t it? For them both, certainly. What else is a surprise is that the child isn’t attempting to attack him, he doesn’t sense any move to. To say Shimazaki didn’t find this one to be impressive would be a lie, maybe there was some respect, so that’s why he remains amicable here and now. There is wariness just below the surface, but he’s not too worried about the boy he faces now, just the one who he could call on at any moment should he make one wrong move.