#sun scribbles

Featuring requests from:

@tkdb-crystal-ball-anon -> What was requested: Draw one of my faves :)

anon -> What was requested: Ed in a pile of pillows and cushions

If you could take Shion’s artefact away from him, you probably would. Unfortunately, much like how he is over many things that stand out to him, he is rather possessive of them.

A shame, considering he wielded a six of hearts like a deadly weapon, and the two of clubs was probably still embedded in a crack in the concrete somewhere in the courtyard.

Ever since Shion—the crazed gleam in his eye and the sharp glint of his teeth—had decided that you were something he needed to keep in his sights, it was rare to get a moment’s peace from him. Even if he wasn’t there physically—likely following Mio around if he wasn’t glued to your own peripheral—you were never far from the consequences that was the path his storm had taken through the campus. He always found you, always tried, in his own skewed, twisted sort of way, to watch after you.

Heavens help you, you fell for that. For the care of a man who didn’t know how to love without burning himself and everything else in his wake, but who meant it with glinted looks, and a firm embrace that pleaded, with tainted innocence, for you to stay. He didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want to be left in the dark again.

You were the light to Shion Genkai, and you replaced the need for fire, for fuel, and for the burn he long associated with affection.

He refused to let that light fade. You didn’t need to burn, you needed to glow.

He could make you glow.

He knows he can.

If only you would just look at him, he could see you glow brighter than the burning sun, brighter than a forest blaze.

He didn’t like that you kept looking away, how was he supposed to see you glow?

You had been busy all day up to this point, and you were going to be busy for the rest of the day, as well. No question about it.

It was a roll of the dice, betting on who would be the day’s demanding wake-up call. Today, it was Ren, groaning about having to help Haru change out the bedding in one of the cockatrice coops. He couldn’t be bothered to go all the way to the front of the park for the wheelbarrow, so he decides to task you with coming by at some point and bringing it to him.

Next, you were called up to Sinostra to pick up some kind of file from Ritsu, eight in the morning, sharp. The start of his business day required the start of efficiency. You were probably going to be pulled to the admin building at some point anyways today, so that was fine, you could drop off whatever it was that he needed you to drop off. 

On your way to the main building, is when Shion finds you. You look positively delighted (no…that was the wrong word, he thinks) to find yourself being pulled along, derailing the careful track you trekked into your schedule, and he drapes an arm over your shoulders with a wicked gleam in his eye that spells nothing but consequence. His weight in your side had long melted away from the thorn it once felt like, and more like a heavy coat, he encompasses you in warmth he’s only just learning how to use.

“You’re too busy,” he drawls, voice low and whiskey toned. He’s more intoxicating, though, than amber mistakes could ever be. “You’re not ignoring me now, are you~?”

The tired sound you let slip is a sound of ecstasy in his ears, and for a moment, Shion leans forward to catch that glow in your eyes.

“Such a sleepy little wife,” he chuckles, and proceeds to tug you closer. “You should—“

“Honour Student~!”

Shion’s head doesn’t turn nearly as fast as yours does, looking over his shoulder and yours as you actively try to turn in his hold to look off to the side, seeking out the source of that voice.

Shion doesn’t like the way you bounce about, and he doesn’t need to see your face to know you’re smiling at that little krill. None the wiser to his battling contestations, you wave in greeting to your friends, who jog up the cobbled path to come see you.

“Good morning, Kaito! Luca!”

Their approach slows when Kaito realises that they’re approaching Shion just as they approach you, and the expression he makes, to Shion, is hilarious. Delightful. He’d laugh if he weren’t so attuned to the way you’re trying to leave him to go say hi to the little krill.

He doesn’t let you go, and you notice. But when you try to turn your head to look back at him in confusion, his face is already there in the crook of your neck. He grins, and Kaito can’t do much more than nervously stammer.

“H-Heyy! Just, ah, just wanted to say hey! So hey! Uhh…hey!”

Your lifted brow has Luca smiling so softly at you—Shion little more than a part of your current presence—and he bows his head politely in greeting.

It makes Shion nauseous.

“Hello, Honour Student,” he hums, straightening with his hands folded behind his back. “Are you on your way to the main building? It seems we are on a shared mission. Tohma has entrusted us to deliver our last mission report to Professor Dante, ourselves, so we were just on our way.”

It isn’t missed, the way Kaito steps somewhat behind Lucas, on the opposite side to where Shion stands glued to your shoulder. To watch him squirm, Shion switches which shoulder of yours he leans on, gaze sharpening as he watches the krill scurry. 

“What a coincidence,” you reply, holding that folder in your arms closer to your chest. “I’m on my way to see Professor Hyde for…”

He notices the way you look up at him. Hates that pause in your words, the way your shoulders tense. It makes it physically uncomfortable to lean on you.

Not that he’s gonna let go.

He could smell the velvet perfume and gunpowder on you from a mile away.

“…Well,” you continue, and Shion doesn’t want you to be tense anymore. It’s still uncomfortable. He lets a hand fall to your waist, and presses his nose into your shoulder.

“We’re going,” he hums into your skin, a shadow falling from his hair over his eyes, and he celebrates the look the krill gives him. He doesn’t see the way his eyes reflect the light that isn’t there—a predator made human. Half a human.

He doesn’t need to see the expression you make. He just needs to feel the drum of your heart in your pulse.

You’re so happy.

You aren’t making him stop, though, he knows. You aren’t trying to escape. You want to be here.

“W-We’re going the long way—!” the little krill shrieks to the other one, watching as they bid their farewells in haste, and tightening his grip on you as they finally leave.

“…You scared them,” you remark, and he notices you don’t try to look back up at him. He doesn’t respond, at first, but his arms come up to wrap around your waist, uncaring of the predicament it places you in, in the open courtyard, with some bs folder in your hands that needed to be delivered.

“They were looking at you for too long,” he eventually grumbles, but he doesn’t mean it to be as bitter as it comes out.

They were looking at you for too long, distracting you. You had to deliver a stupid folder. Then you could stay with him. They were distracting you. You were too busy.

…He wants to keep you. They weren’t going to let him.

He wonders what you’re thinking. Whatever it is, it has you carefully untangling the grip he has in your shirt, and smoothing the blazer back down to cover the now-wrinkled fabric. Your hand in his, guiding him forward, again.

You walk with him across the courtyard, and you let him hold onto you the whole way. He should hate the way his chest begins to burn whenever he looks down and sees your hand in his. That feeling longing to consume him, you, everyone else who keeps staring after you like you’ve gone and captured some crazed beast.

Well, you have, but that’s none of any of their business. They’ll try to take you away from him.

He won’t let them. Won’t let himself.

Like he said, he wants to keep you, and keeping you means not letting you burn.

You should stop letting others hold that fire to you in order to set you ablaze, though. They should do their own work and stop burning you into doing it for them.

Your glow is quiet by the time you’ve managed to hand off that folder. On the way out, he sees that little krill and the other one from before, but he pulls you along so you don’t see them and are tempted to pick up the match again.

He didn’t account for others trying.

His voice is annoying. That’s the first thing Shion notices. He smells like oil and something disgustingly sweet. It’s not a good mix. He’s also nothing like the little krill. 

“Heyyy Honour Roll~ You out walking your pet fish? How cuuuuute~!”

You don’t react to him the same way you reacted to your other little friends. He thinks he understands why. You aren’t tense, but you do lean back into him. Was it for you, or was it for him?

“Good morning, Leo,” you greet, your voice soft, but it isn’t right.

Shion doesn’t care about this one. He’s bored.

“You sure look busy today, hmm~? I was just about to call you, actually, lucky you!”

Shion rests his chin on your shoulder. He doesn’t care to look at this one, so he doesn’t. He spots a bird flying someplace off high, circling something in that tree. Must be something fun there.

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

“I need you to stop by Vagastrom this afternoon,” he states simply, and Shion glances his way, finally. His gaze flattens, but his hand returns to your waist, not yet squeezing or tugging, but present.

“She’s not going,” Shion tells him, head tilting just enough for the hat on his head to shift a hair to one side.

You watch as Leo laughs, a look in his eye that you recognise. A look that looks far too pleased, far too amused, to convince you that the matter was going to be laid to rest. It’s cunning, sweet to your face as he sharpens the knife behind his back.

“Aww~ Your little goldfish is territorial, huh? Don’t worry, Genkai, I’ll return her in due time, haha!”

Shion frowns at that, but before he can remove his lips from the crop of your neck to retort, you raise a hand and wave it in protest in front of you.

“Leo, he’s not—“

Shion doesn’t let you finish, and the telltale sound of his artefact being pulled from his chain is enough to have you whipping your head around. Though, it wasn’t in time to prevent the two of clubs from leaving his hand, landing in the concrete with a definitive split of the sidewalk, narrowly missing the inner bone of ‘Leo’’s ankle. You knew he didn’t miss, though.

He was too clever to miss.

“Shion—!”

Once again, Shion isn’t interested in letting you finish. Though he can feel himself burning from his chest, can feel that lick of the flame as it brushed his ribs, his throat, his tongue, he swallows it, and growls.

He isn’t interested in sharing you anymore. Not when it means you stop glowing. When you start burning. You’re not allowed to do that. You aren’t supposed to be set ablaze like he is.

He won’t let you.

He thinks about the closest place he can get you. Somewhere you won’t have to talk to anybody else. Somewhere where you won’t be distracted. Somewhere he can keep you, and keep you bright, and set fire to the perimeter to make sure nobody can get in. You don’t need anybody else. Not right now.

He can hear your protests, but they aren’t strong ones.

They’re not ones you make when you’re pushing limits and he’s at risk of being alone again. He knows what those ones sound like, and he’s learned how to avoid them. Mio said that he had never seen Shion so unsteady as he has those two days when he earned your silence the last time he pushed your limits. Shion used to think that this was a weakness of his that he couldn’t afford to bear.

Your glow made him weak.

…He thinks that’s fine. It’s only you that sees it, anyways. Feels it. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be, anyways? You’re wife. That’s how it works. He can be a little weak where you’re concerned.

Well, maybe not physically, as he realises he’s practically dragging you up to your crumbling house of disrepair. Will you be upset with him if he accidentally bruised your arm? He doesn’t want that.

He doesn’t want any of this. He doesn’t want this feeling in his chest. It’s hot. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s not burning him the way the fire does.

It burns him in the way only your glow does. The way only you do.

He has to do something about it.

He needs you to do something about it.

———

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