#but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun #dungeon meshi #this has been rotating for a while but i wanted to check my evidence before getting into it thanks user angelspenance for posting that meme #half of this is just the text and the other half i'm sure has been said before but it's making my brain [radio static] so here this is #someone did for sure mention this but i do find it very cute that in his fucked up conjured world meant to portray his ideal reality #his teammates came to visit him. like part of the fantasy was then explicitly that they cared about him and were his friends. even though #he says he tried to see the worst in them. #hm it does feel important to note that i do also believe 100% in mithrun suicidality--his desire to be eaten does seem to focus a lot on #wanting it to be Over. wanting not to be left incomplete and empty anymore. #but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once #snakes #long post #severe problems #meshy

[hyperactively-me]

so...how about that?

You nearly forgot that Mando was there until your eyes meet his visor. He’s standing there, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. You straighten out your back, standing up as tall as you can. Your cheeks are flushed with color, your breath slowing down.

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: canon typical violence

Mando joins you in a cantina after picking up more bounty pucks, ready to follow a new string of criminals and outlaws around the galaxy.

“Hey” you chirp at him, smiling gently as he stands behind you. He nods his head, acknowledging you with an almost annoyed demeanor. It wasn’t that long ago that you first met; he was still adjusting to your presence and role in his life of travel and violence. 

“I just finished, you ready?” you say as you down the last sip of your beverage, setting it down with a sigh. He is still looking at you. 

“Okay then” you say awkwardly, unsure of what to say to him as he continues to stand, unmoving. 

You slide down the barstool, feet hitting the ground with a small thud. 

“Follow me” he demands before taking long strides away towards the exit. You follow him quickly, staring at the back of his chest plate without a thought in your mind. You really had no idea what to think of him, his unresponsiveness, his impassive behavior. 

You approach the exit and cross the threshold, now walking towards his ship, the Razor Crest. The streets are filled with merchants, vendors, and passerbys. You pass stalls full of fresh fruits, hand-cut meats, colorful fabrics, and shiny jewelry. You marvel at the sights and sounds, entranced by the busy buzz of the market. You reminisce about your short days of being a carefree child, one that ran errands for her parents at the local markets. You would always bring back beautiful beads for your mother and practical gadgets for your father. Taking in the sights only increased the hole in your heart, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. You shake off the feeling as you walk, remembering Mando is still in front of you. He walks with the confidence only a man of his stature and reputation could have, his spine straightened out and his steps assuring. His broad shoulders nearly block out your vision, the beskar plates adding to his overbearing appearance. He hooks a thumb into a belt loop, strutting down the street as if he had no worries.

The crowd begins to thin out as you approach the hangar where the Crest was waiting for the both of you. A few people sit on the corners of streets, selling their goods or just walking to wherever their destination is. You don’t notice a couple of ex-stormtroopers pressed against a building until Mando abruptly stops. His hand falls on his blaster, prepared to shoot if necessary. 

He glances back at you with an ever-stoic expression plastered on his helmet. Ok, you couldn’t see his face, but his body language perfectly conveyed his expression. You gaze right back at him, a sense of danger washing over you. Your eyes widen a bit in an attempt to convey the sense of impending danger approaching. Your breath He seems to notice your fear and he straightens his demeanor, adjusting his grip on his blaster. 

All of a sudden, a stormtrooper comes barreling out of a neighboring building, armed and ready to attack. The trooper pushes you to the ground harshly, disregarding you and instead pummeling over Mando with a running jump. Mando lands hard onto his side, groaning from the impact. You shriek as you’re pushed to the ground, caught off guard by the attacker. You watch as his blaster skids across the cobblestone, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Two more ex-stormtroopers emerge from the building, pinning Mando to the ground, attempting to hold down his arms. Mando grunts under the pressure, flailing about, trying to free himself from their grip. Mando kicks one stormtrooper square in the chest, sending him flying backwards. You quickly sit up, fumbling with your own blaster, shakily pulling it out from a leather strap around your thigh. Without hesitating, you shoot a trooper in his leg, dismantling him from holding Mando back. 

Mando decides to swing his free arm around and grab the last stormtrooper still holding onto him. He drags down the trooper, successfully disengaging from the trooper's failed attempt of holding him down. Your heart is racing as you watch Mando pull himself up from the ground, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you can pick yourself off the ground, another trooper managed to sneak his way behind you and drag you across the cobblestone. You cry out, startled from the unfamiliar touch. Your neck aches as his forearm wraps around your neck, dragging you down the street. You immediately swing your arm around, grabbing his neck with the crook of your elbow. You swing around to his back, trying to pull him down with you to no avail. The trooper tries to grab at you from behind, struggling with your elusive grip. You wind up your good arm, ready to throw a punch. You strike the trooper from the back, giving him a deserved underhand punch where his helmet met the back of his neck. The trooper stumbles from the impact, his grip on you loosening significantly. You swing around to his front side and punch him once more, straight into his visor. The trooper stills for a moment before falling limp and toppling over onto the hard cobblestone. 

Your breath comes out ragged, anxiety freely flowing through your body. Your hand was balled into a fist, drawing blood from where your nails met your palms. You shake out your hand, hissing from the impact you wrought upon the trooper. Your eyes are fiery, full of adrenaline and anger. 

You nearly forgot that Mando was there until your eyes meet his visor. He’s standing there, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. You straighten out your back, standing up as tall as you can. Your cheeks are flushed with color, your breath slowing down. 

He rushes over to you, his leather-clad hands grasping your shoulders. You shake off his grip, taking a few hesitant steps back from him. He almost seems surprised you think impatiently, letting out an internal sigh. 

He stares at you, hesitant of what to do, what to say. 

“I didn’t know you could fight like that” Mando breathes out, unsure of what to say. He shifts his weight before bending down to pick up your fallen blaster. 

He turns it over in his hands a few times before walking up to you and placing it in your own hands. He folds your hands over, his leather-clad hands engulfing yours. You look up at him with an unreadable expression. He quickly notices your gaze as he steps back from you, clearing his throat loudly. You tense up a little, unsure of what to do at the moment. 

“Yeah, I’m just full of surprises, Mando” you breathe out. You bend down to fasten your blaster around your thigh strap. 

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” he questions, watching as you secure your blaster around your thigh. 

“Self-taught. Had to have some form of self-preservation when I was growing up” you inform him blandly, looking up from where you had finally secured your blaster. His black visor is trained where your hands were. You stand there silently, looking up and down at him subtly, skeptical of his actions. He tugs his belt on a little tighter before turning around again. 

You stare at him as he begins to step away, rolling out his shoulder blades with quiet cracks. Before you can think, you find yourself lightly jogging to catch up to him, not turning back to look at the mess you made of the assailants. You 

“Are you okay? Those were some pretty nasty hits you took…”  you mutter, looking him up and down with a studious gaze. Yet again, you’re met with the same brick-wall silence, the only audible sound being the crunch of his boots over loose rubble. 

You both saunter into the hangar, Mando’s heat signature releasing the ramp of the Crest, slowly lowering down to the ground. You keep your eyes trained to the floor, your mind racing of things to say to him. As he stalks up the ramp, you scramble after him, biting your lip with hesitance. The ramp shuts with a loud creak, eliciting a sigh from Mando. He leans against the wall, his weight supported by the cool silver walls.

“I– I’m pretty sure you’re hurt” you squeak out, noticing the way he’s holding the side of his chest plate. 

He whips his head in your direction, a breath of frustration crackling over the voice modulator. 

“It’s fine” he grunts out forcefully, unwilling to let you press him with more questions.

Anger shoots up in your chest, your nostrils flaring. You ball your hands into fists, unwilling to let him get away with this passive aggressive behavior. You stomp over to him and begin to pull his chest plate off.

Mando is quick to push you off him, shoving you backwards.

“Don’t” he says forcefully, an edge of coldness and abrasiveness seeping from his voice.

“Just let me help you” you grunt out as you try to come near him again, annoyed with his stubbornness. 

His hands shoot out to stop you once more, but this time you take them into your hands and shove them away vigorously, unrelenting in your mission to inspect his injury. You manage to press your hands over an area on his chest, a groan spilling out of his helmet as you apply pressure to the site. You let out a sigh and dig your hand into his shoulder, strenuously pushing him into a sitting position against the wall. He sits down reluctantly, faltering under your touch. 

You begin to lift off his beskar, struggling with the heavy precious metal. His hands move to help you take it off his chest, breath straining as he moves the plate over his head. He groans out in pain after dropping it to the floor, clutching his side once more. You gingerly lift up the dark pauldron he was wearing, ensuring you don’t knock your fingers into the affected area. As the fabric is lifted off his skin, a large bruise is blooming from the side of his ribcage. A sharp inhale escapes your lips, eyes slightly widening at the sheer size of the bruise.

“They really got you there” you gawk, hands floundering around the dark bruise. He stares straight at you, visor boring into your skull. You pretend not to notice him, refusing to look at his helmet. 

You turn, briskly making your way towards the fresher, rummaging through a small basket of towels. You grab a small washcloth from the bundle and turn to the sink. You flip a handle on the sink, cool water running from the faucet. You run the cloth under the cool water, dampening the material until it drips with water. The faucet squeaks to a stop as you shut it off, and you quickly make your way back towards Mando. Your breath picks up as you approach him, his helmet now trained on your hands holding the dripping washcloth. 

You plop down to the ground, the floor making a dubious creaking sound as you sit cross-legged. You lean in towards Mando, gently pressing the cloth into the side of his abdomen. He lets out a husky groan, the sound piercing the still air. He places his large hands over yours, nearly enveloping your hands. You stay quiet, your cheeks slightly flushing from his actions. 

“Just keep that compress over the bruise for a while. It’ll help the pain” you breath out, slowly pulling your hands away from his own. He slowly looks at you, studying your face as you look at him, your lips pressed together. You drop your hands in our lap, unsure of what to do. 

“Thank you” he rasps out, nodding his head slowly. 

“Don’t mention it” you huff out, pushing stray pieces of hair behind your ear. You watch as he presses the cloth on his bruise. He releases some of the pressure applied on the site of injury. You watch as he lifts one hand off the cloth, reaching towards one of your hands. You let him take it, cheeks flushing with color as the warmth of his hand seeps into your own. He gives your hand two gentle squeezes before letting go of it.  The tiniest of smiles appears on your face for a dashing moment before a serious expression paints your face. What is he- what is he doing you thought, your heart racing a million miles per second. But you didn’t want him to let go. You delicately reach your hand out once more, latching onto his hand with a tight yet comforting grip. He drops his guard, becoming pliant in your hands. I could get used to this you thought, the corner of your lips slightly raising into the tiniest of smiles.

#➶-͙˚ ༘✶ din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin one shot #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandolarian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian fan fiction #mando x reader #mandalorian imagine #grogu #star wars #hyperactivelyme

[late-to-the-party-81]

Holly, ivy and my best friend's brother

AN: Here’s a little (late) festive drabble for dear @chrisdrysdale as part of the Thot Neighbourhood’s Tis the Season to be Thot-y gift exchange.

Beta'd by @lunarbuck and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Relationship: Pre-war Bucky x Reader (Becca’s best friend)

WC: 1k

CW: Fluff, mutual pining, minor angst, first kiss, minor innuendo

“Bunny! Get down from there!” 

The ladder wobbled under your feet as you reached up to try and hang the garland of greenery. It suddenly stilled, and without looking, you knew who to thank.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Your tongue crept out of your mouth as you leaned over a bit more, confident that the ladder was more secure now, with your best friend Becca’s older brother hanging onto it. 

With a small cry of success, the hanging loop on the back of the garland caught on the nail on the wall, and you started your careful descent. Two steps from the bottom and you felt Bucky’s warm and work-roughened hands settle on your waist, practically lifting you off and placing you on terra-firma. You tried to think chaste thoughts; he was off limits after all.

“What were you doing up there? You shoulda got me to do the climbing, Bun-bun.”

“Oh, pish, Bucky Barnes. If you know me at all, and you know me plenty, then you know that I’m not one of those who gets a man to do things just for the sake of appearing like a lady. If I can do it myself, I’ll do it myself.”

“You’ll get your neck broken, that’s what you’ll do, and then I won’t hear the end of it from Becca.”

You, Becca, and Bucky were busy decorating the community hall for the upcoming Christmas festivities. You and Becca had volunteered, and Winifred Barnes had insisted that Bucky accompany you to do any of the ‘heavy lifting’. The local ladies social group had put together lots of garlands and swags over the last couple of days, and they just needed to be mounted up on the walls and across the beams. Unfortunately, you, well Bucky actually, had run out of nails, so Becca had volunteered to go down to the hardware store and see if she could sweet talk young Joe behind the counter to let her have a few. You were well aware that she’d be more than happy to pay with a kiss if she had to.

But that had left you and Bucky here by yourselves, sorting out what you could while you waited. It shouldn’t have been a problem; you’d known each other for years as you’d made the Barnes household your second home. It was him who’d given you your nickname as well, for how scared you’d looked on your first visit to their noisy home. Unfortunately though, Bucky had grown from being your friend’s annoying older brother into your friend’s extremely attractive and charming older brother.

Whenever he was close to you or turned his swoon-inducing smile toward you, you just wanted a hole to open up and swallow you whole because you were so far out of his league it hurt. He had all the girls lining up for their chance to step out with him, and he always picked the pretty ones, the ones with the nice dresses, the beautiful haircuts. The ones who looked down on you, despite your closeness to the young man they all admired. Or maybe because of it? Either way, Bucky never looked at you in the way you wished he would. He thought of you as just another sister.

“So you wouldn’t miss me then?” You kept your tone light and playful, despite the ache deep in your chest. In two steps he was by your side, arm slung over your shoulder. 

“Of course I’d miss my best girl.”

Your heart lurched, but you kept your smile on your face and gave him a friendly shove. He didn’t budge though, and just pouted.

“Don’t be mean, Bunny, or you won’t get one of the candy canes I’ve got in my pocket.”

“Then stop with the idle flattery. Best girl, indeed.”

“But it’s not idle flattery if I mean it. And I do mean it, Bunny.”

Your smile dropped, and you pushed away harder, escaping his hug this time. You took a step away and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“You can’t say things like that to me, Bucky. It’s not fair. I’m not one of your pretty conquests.” Your voice trembled with the effort of not letting your emotions overrun you.

The next moment, he was behind you, enfolding you in his arms. You thought your heart was going to jump out of your throat. You could smell him, a mixture of hair pomade, simple soap, and his own earthy muskiness. You could also feel how the energy in the room had changed from the usual playfulness that was between you and Bucky to something else entirely.

“No, you’re not. And I’d never treat you like one of them either. You’re too precious to me, Bun.”

“Stop playin’ with me. Please don’t break my heart like this.” Your eyes were burning. Why was he doing this to you? And why couldn’t you just break free and walk away? “You’re a cruel man, James Barnes. It’s bad enough that you figure out how I feel, but to then make fun of me…”

“I’m not making fun. I’m trying to tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

He spun you in his arms so you were face to face. You wobbled with the momentum and reached out for stability to find your hands fisted in his shirt. You were almost nose to nose, your mouths closer than you’d ever hoped for.

“That you’re so special. So kind and caring and beautiful. And far too good for me. I’ve tried to keep my distance. You’re Becca’s friend, and I should think of you like a sister, but god help me, I can’t. I live for seeing you smile, hearing you laugh. I love you, Bunny.”

The small space between you finally closed, and his lips were on yours, soft and sweet. It only lasted a few moments, but when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Bucky. But I gotta ask, is that really a candy cane in your pocket?”

But Bucky just chuckled and kissed you again.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @poppunksnowwhite @pono-pura-vida

#bucky x reader #pre-war bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #late writes #tis the season to be thot y #the thot neigbourhood

[themadknightuniverse]

Red Lie

"At first, most people think Lalo devoid of self control. Overly interested in everything. Some even thought the man to be friendly. Ignacio knew better. Or rather, he thought he knew better. And he did, in a way. But he could never imagine what his success would unfurl. Because Ignacio realized that once you caught the real interest of Lalo Salamanca, things becomes entirely bloodcurdling." An exploration of Nacho's character, and using his perception of the world to analyze Lalo along the way. And how they inevitably fall in love.

READ ON AO3

Dust appeared in the golden ray, shined in the sun light, and fell into the shadows to disappear completely. Everything was still but for this incessant loop. No noise. No agitation. Only the light and those tiny dots flickering for a moment.

Ignacio blinked. He watched the silent scene. So caught up in the dance he didn't hear his own breathing, his own heart beating. All that mattered was the suspended time. The peace. There was a knot in his throat. But he didn't pay attention to it.

He only wanted to look at the dust. Just a bit more time. Just a bit more time. —

Lalo was one of the noisiest and loudest person Ignacio had encountered. The man seemed to always have something to say, like a perpetual flow of thoughts being poured into the world with no filter for pertinence. Most people may think the man devoid of self control, or overly interested in everything. Hell, some even thought the man to be friendly, but Ignacio knew better.

He knew not to believe in the smiles, the energetic inflections of the man's voice, his relaxed attitude. Because Lalo was nothing but that caricature of a happy man he was pulling up everyday.

Time was required to notice the little things. The first one was his mere presence and confidence that crushed you. Some people stayed frozen in that overwhelming first feeling, impressed or admiring of his charisma, and never saw the danger looking at them right in the eyes.

But after a while, if you get to meet the man for a longer period of time —or worse, work for him— then the tiniest bits of threats flashed in a word, a look, a shifting in his stance, his presence morphing into something that triggered your sense of insecurity. Even if he was on the other side of a room, his simple existence now weighed on your shoulders, boring holes into your head as if he was constantly staring at your back, making cold sweat gather along your spine.

He would keep using this carefree and light tone in his voice, lulling you into a fake friendliness, as if any past error was forgotten, only to switch to a sudden hardness, throwing people off the fake safeness he cautiously built, leaving no space for questioning the order.

Then there was his demeanor. Lalo moved like a carefree man. Unconscious of danger. Of risks. Of threats. Because he was above the biggest part of it, and he knew it. So he strutted, arms hanging at his sides, completely opened to the world. Almost inviting anyone to try and attend to his life, a smile spread on his face as if the mere idea was hilarious. His confidence was so high he entered every places with no discretion. His palms opened, ready to take whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Because he always had everything he wished.

Ignacio met many Salamanca. Tuco, a wild beast capable to kill his own friend when he was too high. Hector, sadistic and obsessed with his family reputation, less unpredictable than Tuco but still prompt to losing his temper. The cousins, two halves of a deadly mechanism, moving in sync as one entity, silent and brutal. But despite their common traits for violence and destruction, there was something unique to Lalo.

Ignacio knew. He knew from the very first second the man turned around to face him in that kitchen. He knew something was off. He knew because he never seen such eyes ever before. Even when his smile reached his eyes, the singular glint of life was absent in them. The orbs were dark. Empty. Soulless.

(Read the rest on AO3)

#the first chapter is up I can't believe it #Hope you'll enjoy it peeps #lacho #fanfic #lacho fanfic in the making #text post #bcs #better caul sall #nacho varga #lalo salamanca #red lie

[saturnspecials]

Flower Boy Ch. 2

Hi! It’s here! Chapter 2! I’m sorry it’s a bit short and awkward- writers block and short attention span and all that! I hope you like it and be patient with me as i figure out how to write dialogue decently haha :) enjoy!

In the days before travelling to Cairnholm, I had called ahead to ask if there was anywhere I could stay for a few nights upon my immediate arrival. There was one small room you could pay for, inside a tavern called the Priest Hole. Looking at the worn down building now, it’s hard to imagine any man who called himself holy residing here. The din of the downstairs tavern leaks through the damp wood and cracked windows, an unsavoury type of noise. Staring at the building fills me with a deep longing to return to Montreal, to leave the stories I was told as a young child, and simply disappear into the everyday life there. 

“Merde!” I spit the cuss at the dingy looking dorway, before heaving my bags back into my hands and trudging inside. The inside is not much better than the outside, with the added bonus of a permeating smell of fish and booze. Striding my way up to the barkeep, I do my best to keep from brushing against any of the men who crowd the dimly lit room. 

“Bonjour, hello.” I called out to the barkeep. He gave me a once over, barely seeming to keep in a scoff.

“What do you want, boy?”

“I called a few days ago, asking about a room for a few nights. I have the money for you here if it is still available?”

The man snatches the bills from my hand, thumbing through them while keeping a suspicious eye on me.

Once finished, he grunts out a sound of acknowledgement and starts his way up the stairs. I follow. The upstairs of the building is in better shape than the downstairs, but it hasn’t managed to escape the sickening smell of liquor. After a brief struggle to knock the poorly fitting door out of its frame, the man hands me a key. 

“My name is Kev. This is your only key, don’t lose it. Downstairs is the only place on the island you can find food. Don’t cause a mess.” With that he pressed the small key into my hand and lumbered back down the steps. 

I glance after him before entering the dingy room. I go to shut the door behind me, just to find it jammed. I sigh and push a bit harder, but it remains stuck fast. I push my shoulder into the door just above the knob and it finally shutters closed. I stay leaning against the wood for a moment before huffing out a sigh. It’s barely past noon and my body is already begging me to collapse onto the grungy white sheets of the bed and sleep. I sweep my hand through my hair and begin to settle in.

Roughly an hour later, I find myself standing uncomfortably in front of the bar. I hold my satchel, carrying my journal and a few other things. I glance briefly at the path marked in red on a map of the island Mémé had tucked inside her journal before setting off away from the town. I know from the map and what Mémé had written that my destination was closer than the actual children’s home. The building would simply appear destroyed and hollow if I approach it here in the present. 

The walk is simple and soon enough, I reach the entrance to the Cairn and the loop. I peer into the damp entry before placing my foot gingerly on the slick rock, heart speeding up with the action.

Breathe.

I suck in a breath before launching my full body inside the cave. I stand stock still as time itself warps around me, before stumbling backwards quickly. I peer back at the cave, uneasy about how the walls seem to reach out to swallow me. 

I don’t spare a second glare at the Cairn, and instead turn and hurry off towards the road. I find my heart calming as I get further from the cave, and eventually push the thought of it to the back of my mind. As the roof of the home comes into sight over the trees, I can’t help the giddy smile that slips onto my face.

I’m here. Finally here.

I basically trip up the steps to the door in my excitement, only to find myself face to face with a woman. 

“Y/N L/N, I presume?”

#mphfpc #mphfpc x reader #enoch o'connor x male reader #enoch o'connor x reader #enoch o'connor #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #male reader #x reader

[fanfic-collection]

Whumptober! : Loki x Reader - 1

So it begins

-

The magician curled his fingers into a fist. Pulling back his arm, he thrust forward and a ring of fire burst from his fist.

Loki shoved you to the side. As the ring of fire looped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, he let out a startled cry. The flames engulfed him like some fiery iron maiden. For a moment, he struggled to stand before giving in and collapsing in pain.

You raised your bow, the magician distracted, and fired a shot straight into his heart. There was an anticlimactic shocked noise, and he was silent.

Slowly the flames around Loki dissipated and you rushed to his side.

“Hey, hey Loki.” You murmured softly, rolling him onto his back.

A sheen of sweat appeared on his brow and Loki groaned. He started to shiver, body convulsing as he lay in the dirt.

“Loki?”

Slowly his pale skin turned blue, his eyes scrunched shut and you watched in horror as his jotun form was revealed.

You cried his name repeatedly, cupping his icy face that was weirdly lukewarm. Stroking your thumbs along his cheek bones, you tried to cradle his head in your lap. You moved one hand to stroke through his hair as you begged for him to react. Loki continued to shiver violently in your arms, the heat of the flames seeming to have wound its way into his very veins.

You lifted his arm over your shoulder and began dragging him to the nearest village.

-

In the village, people looked at you in horror. You were dragging a dying frost giant.

“I need a healer!” You cried. “Someone? Please!”

A kindly old woman stepped out of her cottage and approached you. You collapsed under Loki’s weight and groaned as you looked up at her.

“you protect a frost giant?”

“I didn’t know he was…” You replied. “But yes, I do.”

The healer cast a nasty look at the villagers snooping. They quickly returned to their business. “Get him in my hut then.” She ordered.

You forced your legs to stand, dragging Loki into the hut.

The lady motioned for a large tub of water and indicated that you place him in it.

You dumped Loki unceremoniously into the water and watched as nothing happened.

“Stand back.” She ordered once again. Raising her hands, small chunks of ice began to float in the water until the water itself had a thin layer of ice floating around Loki. The only non-frozen parts were the small holes where Loki’s head and knees poked out of the tub.

You knelt down beside him, watching his adam’s apple slowly bob up and down as he swallowed and breathed.

“Get his shirt off.” The healer growled.

Your face flushed as you looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You bit your lip as you reached into the icy water and began undoing the complex straps on Loki’s top. Just as you had it undone, Loki’s hand reached up and grabbed your wrist. You let out a startled cry and Loki’s red eyes slowly opened. He blinked hard before whispering, “thank you.”

#loki x reader #ficbit #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #loki fanfiction

[ask-dcf]

Trick

**TW// Emotional Abuse, Obsessive Attraction, Violence**

She looked around to see her bearings. Apparently she ran so fast and so hard she caused her soul magic to spark. To a point where she ended up teleporting…. She had tried such powers before but she was never able to use it….. so…. What now?…. She won…. But… her brother…. And her family what…. Can she do…. The fear… she can’t think properly with all the what ifs…. Should she go back? Should she tell the king? Should she go back. Should she tell everyone. Who would believe her. They wouldn’t. Even her parents wouldn’t… at least she think they wouldn’t…. Fear… gripped her…. Every course she thought of taking lead to him winning…. All she could do…. Was wait…. And as she did… she heard the same explosions… The king came and asked her what was going on…. All she could tell him… was that it won’t matter… things will be fixed… the king confused… decided to leave whatever what’s going on to her. She waited… and waited… and waited…. She clenched her brothers scarf as she heard foot steps… and some sort of metal scrapping the ground… The human appeared before here with a smile… and dust all over her… “Oh wow chara~ You got here before me!~ I guess that means you won~”…. The girl knew he had the power to reset time…. So he can reset everything. And bring everyone back. Especially her brother. “Yeah… About that Chara~ I have a confession to make~” he held up the button and pressed it…. The moment he did she panicked and ran at him…. Then stopped…. Her eyes widened and in pure horror as she heard the sound come from the button…. On FUCKING… LOOP…

She had a look... of pure... utter... distraught...

“There never were bombs Chara~”

She asked why… Why do all this… Why play this game… why make her go through all this only to bring her to judgement hall. Her friends. Her family. WHY DO ALL THIS? WHY DO IT ALL BEFORE? WHY!?…. WHY TORTURE HER!?…. . . . “It’s obvious Chara~…. Because I LOVE you~” . . . She felt her heart drop… she wanted to throw up again…. “The first time I met you I thought you were a red eyed Angel~ And when you called me “your pretty mirror”, I fell in love with you right away~ But… You just called me a friend… at the end…. I did EVERYTHING for you. I freed your friends… your family… I MADE YOU EXPERIENCE FREEDOM… and yet you CALLED ME A FRIEND?! SERIOUSLY!? AFTER ALL I FUCKING DID!? scratches head furiously I didn’t like it. I DIDNT WANT THIS! and so… I found out the ability to reset… I saw the button… and I used it… IT WORKED! So… I decided if freeing everyone wouldn’t make you adore me. Then maybe KILLING everyone would work. If everyone was gone and we were the only ones left. Then perhaps you would love me. You would be mine. Sadly your family had to be taken out of the equation. I mean after all I couldn’t have you running back to your adoptive parents and doting brother. But you reacted poorly. Of course we had a fun little “Dance” aswell. But then I ended up killing you. So I decided to reset. Instead. Perhaps I would take a different approach. I would’ve just killed the boss monsters. We could just say that they attacked you…. But then…. Your brother told me everything. Saying he forgiven me. And wants us all to be apart of a family…. I DIDNT WANT A FAMILY I WANTED YOU DAMNIT! So of course I had to kill him. Shame. He was nice. I would’ve let him live but I couldn’t risk him telling everyone about it all. It was Interesting though. Finding out that you remembered the resets. Of course to get you to come to me I had to keep killing boss monsters…. But then you FUCKING KILLED YOURSELF! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! So I reset AGAIN….”

he takes a deep breath and wags finger for a sec “But then…. I decided maybe instead of going down the usual route. I would just go back further. The moment I fell I decided to stay a bit and climb back out. Never had such annoying FUCKING time trying to climb out of a damn hole…. But I did. And so I bided my time. I went back to the orphanage and played the good little angel. As luck would have it I was adopted by the Fishers. They were scientists. The entire years I asked about time travel and magic and souls and anything that intrigued them… TURNS OUT If a soul is strong and willing enough. You can manipulate the fabric of time. Of course you have to have more then that. DESIRE! And over time I studied and planned and DEVELOPED EVERYTHING WITH THIS POWER TO SEE YOU! And keep you ALL… TO… MY… SELF!…. See the thing about this power is that in order to use it…. I HAVE TO TREAT IT LIKE A GAME! Simply SAVE over the moments I desire. AND ITS BENT TO MY WILL! Moment I figured that out I ended that family, real shame. Apparently they were able to teach me about scientific magic aswell. But in the end… they were just free exp. Course I stole one of their scrapped inventions….” He pulled out the object wrapped in cloth and stomped it on the ground. “See this was meant for dealing with trees. It’s light. Easy to use. Even a child could use it. Problem is, it’s TOO easy to use. So it could be used as a weapon…. Well… They weren’t wrong….” pulls off the cloth to reveal…. A purple one handed object with metal teeth. Like a chainsaw sword...

The girl takes a step back seeing the object covered in blood and dust… “Speaking of games. The reason why I made you come here chara was…. SO WE CAN DANCE MORE! THE MOMENT YOU ATTACKED ME THE FIRST TIME! IT WAS EXHILARATING! THE SWEAT THE RUSH! I WANTED IT AGAIN! IT WAS PERFECT! A DANCE OF DEATH! ATTACK! FIGHT! DIE! RETRY AND RESET! AN ENDLESS LOOP FOR US TO HAVE OUR FUN! MY ADRENALINE IS GETTING HIGH JUST THINKING ABOUT IT! All of this was for you my Chara~… I LOVE YOU! SO WE CAN NOW HAVE FUN TOGETHER! MY LOVELY PRETTY MIRROR! SO WHAT DO YOU SAY CHARA!? WHY DON'T WE HAVE FUN!~” . . . The girl clenched her brothers scarf…. her eyes were so dilated. He stomach was rebelling against her as she felt like puking everything she had out. All of this was was just for HER? The death? The manipulation? HER FAMILY!? FOR LOVE!? LOVE?!…… love….. as she held her head it comes to her… what’s worse about all this wasn’t that this guy ruined her life…. He SHUT IT OUT…… this was…… the third time….. she was trapped….. in the name of “love”……. Him…. Her family….. and…. Her human….. mother…….

. . . SNAP . . .

Her hands slumped down….. as she made…. A sound…. She never thought she would make…. She……Laughed…. Heh….heheh….heheheh….hehehehehehe….

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Next

#undertale #datatale #datatale au #chara #ask blog #ask dcf #undershift #undershift lore #shift arc #Youtube

[woodworkingpastor]

The Heartbreaking Beauty of God -- Luke 11:1-14 -- Sunday, September 4, 2022

Today’s sermon is part of something I’ve tried to do recently on Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends, many of our church family are enjoying the beauty and fellowship of Camp Bethel. It has seemed to me that we ought to do something special for those of you who are here.  It’s a bit like when you were in college and you went to class on that Friday afternoon before spring break and were one of just a handful who had bothered—there ought to be a little something extra for you.  

That extra is this song by Tenielle Neda, a Christian singer/songwriter from Western Australia. I found this song several weeks ago, and it immediately touched a place in my heart that is longing for something more in these difficult days we’ve been in:  

What do we need in these times? My answer has been to write some sermons on discipleship that are the focus of the Discipleship reading guide available in the foyer and will run until October 16, and then a series of worship services organized around what I’m calling The Great Prayers of the Church that will take us from October 23 through the start of Advent. Today is something of a preview of what is to come this fall.

The Heartbreaking Beauty of God

Does the phrase “heartbreaking beauty” make any sense at all? How can beauty be heartbreaking? I have several pictures today that I want to use to illustrate the point.

The first is this picture of the night sky—what the night sky truly looks like when it isn’t obscured by light pollution.  

I remember the first time I saw the night sky like this; it was when I was at the workcamp in Lybrook, NM. I’d gotten up in the middle of the night and stepped outside our cabin and was almost knocked over by this view. I can literally feel the longing to go there and see the night sky again.

Or consider these pictures from the Webb telescope. The first is of a Phantom Galaxy—a place in our universe thought to be home to over 100 billion planets

The second is a picture of an Einstein Ring. 

This is a phenomenon caused when light from a galaxy or star is bent as it travels past another galaxy, and the bending causes the light to appear in a ring like this. What is especially remarkable about this picture is that this Einstein ring is 12 billion light-years from earth.  Because it takes time for light to travel, looking at this picture is like looking backwards in time. We’re looking at something that dates to close to the time of the galaxy’s formation, something 12 billion years old!

It makes me think of Psalm 8:3-4.  

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?

But we don’t have to look into the outer reaches of the galaxy to consider the heartbreaking beauty of God. Come back home to the places we live and see what God has done.

This summer, Lynette and I drove down to Devil’s Bathtub in Scott County, VA. It’s basically a swimming hole in a creek deep in the mountains of SW Virginia; one of our favorite places to go. The painfully cold water makes the spring at Camp Bethel feel like a sauna!

Devil’s Bathtub is a very popular hike, but it’s part of a longer loop trail that doesn’t get much traffic. We’d been talking about doing the whole 7-mile loop sometime. In reading about it, I came across these occasional references to a waterfall.  Hardly anyone mentioned it, and a few who did made it seem like the waterfall was at the bathtub itself; the descriptions weren’t clear. We were curious, so we decided to go check it out for ourselves.

Sure enough, about ½ mile past Devil’s Bathtub, we came to the waterfall: it was 20 feet down a gorge in which someone had helpful put some ropes to climb down. At the bottom, we found the waterfall. There was something remarkable about being 3 miles into the forest, 20 feet below the trail, swimming in this mountain stream. It was almost as if we had discovered the place!  And again the heartbreaking beauty of God comes back into play—if I had the chance, I’d go back there this afternoon just to experience it again.

Then there is this picture—which is, admittedly, terrible. 

Lynette and I were at Fort Lewis Lodge in Bath County, sitting on the deck outside the restaurant waiting for breakfast. We were observing the humming bird feeder in the foreground; a feeder that was “owned” by the hummingbird at the top of the picture. Hummingbirds are some of the fiercest birds there are; a National Geographic article a few years ago suggested that hummingbirds may be the only species of birds whose language is completely profanity! I suspect this fellow was living up to that reputation as he chased off about 10 other birds from the feeder; Lynette and I were a bit surprised he was letting us sit there!

As we watched the action at the feeder, we eventually noticed this new hummingbird getting a drink. We wondered why this hummingbird was allowed access to the feeder when none of the others were. After a moment, this hummingbird turned and we noticed it had no red on its neck—this was a female—his female!  Is this picture actually a love story?  

Thinking of these things calls to mind Colossians 1:15-20.

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers--all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross (Colossians 1:15-20).

When we sing to Jesus; when we “proclaim our Lord’s death until he comes” by sharing communion; when we—like the song we began with—begin to contemplate our God in heaven, and the new heavens and the new earth, and the absence of strife and fear and death; when we consider the challenges of our times; when we do all of these things and begin to contemplate what God has created in and for Jesus, allowing those things to settle deep within us with a longing that is almost more than we can put into words, we’ve grasped something of the heartbreaking beauty of God that makes us long for God’s kingdom to come, on earth as it is in heaven.

And when we begin our prayer by saying, “Our Father,” this is the God to whom we pray—the God who made all of this. And yet Jesus teaches us to pray “Abba.” The God who made all these things can be known with an intimacy deep within our hearts.

How much more…

The God who created galaxies and waterfalls and ruby-throated hummingbirds is concerned about our daily needs. It almost boggles the mind, that the God who created all these things would be concerned about people who wrestle with the demands of hospitality and food and forgiveness.

After Jesus gives us words to use in prayer to God, he gives us the rather strange story of someone who needs a loaf of bread in the middle of the night, so he goes to his neighbor to borrow it. The lesson of this story is not that God is like the grumpy neighbor; the lesson is from the lesser to the greater: if a grumpy neighbor will help us in a moment of need, how much more will God give us what we need.

The God who created the heavens and the earth wants us to ask for what we need. Jesus calls us to ask, to seek, to knock, and he follows this up with another argument from the lesser to the greater. No one among us would give a snake to a child who asked for fish or a scorpion to one who asked for an egg.  No one would do these things. Knowing that this is true, Jesus says, “how much more” the God who flung the heavens into place will give good things to us.  God encourages us to bring our chaos to him.

But that phrase “how much more” really gets us. Our lives are consumed with “how much more types of issues.

“How much more money will this cost?” “How much more do I have to do?”

“How much more loss can I withstand?” “How much more hate can I endure and hold my faith together?”

How much more…how much more…how much more…

Through my office window, I can see the Starbucks drive-through. There is rarely an hour of the day when there aren’t a few cars in line; people lining up to make their offering at the Temple of the Sacred Bean. I wonder about the persons coming through the line sometimes. Who are they? What’s going on in their lives? I wonder about their pain, the brokenness in their lives. What if we had a sign out by the end of the church driveway that read, “experiencing God’s love through healed relationships since 1908.”  I wonder if anyone would get their coffee and turn right, come across McVitty Road and come into the church to learn more?

Would people be intrigued by the beauty of healed relationships, of knowing in their very lives the what the statement “how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him.” Would people receive an invitation to trust God past slogans and platitudes into a relationship with the creator of the universe who knows every detail of our lives—both good and bad—and wants to bless us?

Beauty in ugliness

There is a scene near the end of the Lord of the Rings that speaks to the power of the heartbreaking beauty of God. The two hobbits—Frodo and Sam—are deep in Mordor, the domain of the evil Saruman. Frodo is sinking deeper and deeper into the clutches of the Ring of Power’s evil grasp. Stalked by the insane Gollum; dodging orcs at nearly every-step; hungry, thirsty, and exhausted; it looks like Frodo’s plan to destroy the ring in the fires of Mount Doom was foolish beyond description.  

One night as Frodo and Sam lie uncomfortably in the barren wilderness of Mordor trying to rest one night, Sam glimpses the heavens. Tolkien writes:

There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.

Amidst the frustrations and disappointments and challenges of our time, the heartbreaking beauty of God is a reminder that the Maker of the heavens and the earth is the one we call Abba who is aware of our every need.  Jesus beckons us to continue along the journey.

[kimnjss]

[ part two of a new series called: ‘giving new meaning to bts moments by adding yn’… (really bad name lmao) - feel free to request your own! ]

>>

LOOKS SO REFRESHED.

friends with benefits is hard, but when he’s an international superstar... it’s much harder. so while you love his friends to death, spending the night holed up in his hotel room just sounds a lot more fun than a dinner party. // explicit. 3.4k words

warnings: cursing, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), hickeys, fingering, yoongi has a lot of feelings... anal play, nipple play, biting, anal sex, this really turned out angstier than i intended lmao.

Yoongi is exiting the bathroom when you're entering his hotel room. Plush towel hanging low on his hips, dark hair appearing even darker from the water that drips from it. His lips stretch into a smile as he watches you make your way toward him. Amazed with how effortlessly beautiful you looked all the time.

A thin-strapped tank top covering your chest and stomach, stopping directly about your belly button. If he focused hard enough, he could see the tiny peaks of your nipples through the fabric. You've squeezed into a pair of bike shorts that do a great job n highlighting the gentle curve of your waist, the roundness of your hips.

He's nearly drooling over the sight of you as you make your way closer to his slim frame in the threshold, a soft hand landing on his bare chest. Yoongi reaches down to steady his palm on the small of your back while you lean into him, plush lips pressing against his.

“Hey, baby.” You're mumbling as you pull back, the tip of your finger tracing patterns over the skin of his peck.

His lips shift into a lazy smile, “Hi,” Voice sounding a bit dazed, drunk off the brief taste of your lips. A hand inching down toward the curve of your ass, giving the flesh a firm squeeze all while pulling your body tighter against his. “Are you gonna wear that out tonight?” Very unlikely he'd make it through an entire dinner with you beside him looking like that.

You're shaking your head, arms lifting to wrap around his neck. Chest paired against his. “Nope, I bought something when I went out with Jin,” He's nodding, barely taking in your words, his focus shifting to the push against his chest. And it becomes obvious with the way his lips curve into a dopey grin.

“I can feel your nipples through your shirt,” Yoongi says through a laugh, his hand reaching up to pinch it through the fabric. “Yoongi!” You say with a laugh, swatting his hand away from your body before wiggling out of his grip, crossing the room to flop down on the bed.

He's following behind you, fingers carding through his hair as one hand holds the edge of his towel up on his hips. “What else did you do today?” He asks while rummaging through his suitcase, picking out a pair of briefs that he slides on underneath his towel, letting it pool around his feet as he adjusts the band on his hips.

Yoongi nods along with the words you're saying as he pulls a hoodie from his luggage, shrugging it on before he's pulling a pair of dark jeans over his leg. “And then what happened?” He asks as he makes his way over to you, fists pinned on either side of your legs to lean down toward you.

The extremely hilarious story you were in the middle of telling him seems to become obsolete the moment you're being hit with the aroma of his cologne, pretty dark eyes boring into yours. His lips a pretty plush pink, looking enticingly soft. He must've noticed where your attention has gone, mouth shifting into a smirk. “Was that the end?” He laughs, brow arching as he urges you to continue.

“Mhm. That was it,” You're joining in on the laughter, hands lifting to rest on either side of his face. It's easy to pull him down toward you, mouth quickly molding with his.

He tastes heavily of mint, tongue pushing its way past your lips as he lifts his body onto the mattress. With a hand resting on your hip, he's laying your body back on the sheets. Your eyes flutter shut, fingers moving to knit in his damp hair. Kissing him was away so intoxicating, you could feel your head spinning even as he pulled back.

Smiling down at you with such adoration and appreciation in his eyes, Yoongi's lifting a hand to push the stray hairs out of your face before he's leaning in for another kiss. His hands slide down your waist, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones as he slots himself between your legs. 

The sudden drag of his teeth on your lower lip has a moan emitting from the back of your throat, teeth clashing as the kiss grows sloppier, more desperate. He's reached around to palm at your ass, free hand trailing back up your body until he's able to grip the top of your tank top. With one swift movement, he's tugging it out of the way, heavy breasts spilling over the fabric.

“Fuck,” He grunts, mouth falling from yours to steal a peek at the newly exposed skin. His middle finger lifts, tongue quickly swiping over the digit before he's rubbing it into the hardening bud. Yoongi feels the way his jeans stiffen from the soft you're letting out, head tilted back slightly to expose the length of your neck.

And he's diving in without a second of hesitation, lips latching onto the clammy skin, tongue, and teeth determined to leave a mark. Soft whines fill the room, he's rolling your nipple between his knuckles, cock pressed firmly against your thigh. You can feel the pound of your heart between your legs and it comes with an unmistakable wave of arousal.

Teeth nipping from your jaw to your chest, stopping only to allow his mouth to take the place of his knuckles. His teeth gently tug at the skin, mouth shifting into a grin when you're whimpering at the feeling. Heat spreading throughout your body, thighs tightening around his torso – effectively pulling his body closer to yours. You wanted him. Like always.

He's pulling back after a moment, boob bouncing slightly as he releases it. Yoongi's body shifts above you, arms pinned on either side of your head so he's able to hold himself up. Taking a moment to admire the features of your face, the glint in your eyes. Love was a strong word, but it felt like the only logical way to describe how he was feeling now.

You're shooting him an odd look, nose scrunched slightly and brows furrowed. The palms of your hands fall from his hair, gliding down to rest over the sides of his neck. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You say through a laugh to hide your concern.

It was not at all like Yoongi to stop what he was doing (especially if it involved taking your clothes off) to just look. And the way he was looking at you. As if he was moments from professing his love, that was unlike Yoongi in so many ways.

An easy smile spreads across his lips, lowering his body so that he's holding up his weight on his elbows. You're still caged underneath him and you like it that way, accepting the kiss that he places on your lips. “I miss you,” He mumbles, not bothering to pull back from your mouth.

You missed him too. Just like you always did when he was swamped or too busy to call you up. Something that he always tried to make up for whenever he had the chance, but that didn't take away from the fact that you did miss him. You had to share him with the entire world and sometimes it felt a little unfair.

But, he was doing what he loved. And no matter how stressful and time-consuming it may be, he insisted that he was enjoying himself. So who were you to rain on that parade? Whining about missing him wouldn't change a thing. “I'm right here, silly.” Laughing it off and enjoying the smile that pushes on to his features.

“You are,” He agrees with a quick nod, leaning down to cover your mouth with his again.

A much slower kiss that screams what he did not say before. His fingers in your hair holding your face to his. Your arms reach to cross behind his neck, pulling him down until he's laying flat against you. Not an inch of space left. His tongue teases the opening of your lips until your jaw is falling slack allowing his tongue to twist with yours.

He loved you. And it was insane because he knew he wasn't supposed to. This wasn't what casual was, no feelings, just two people having a good time. He had broken every single rule he had set in order to spare your feelings. Didn't want to stick you with that feeling of longing that came with being with someone always on the go, but that's exactly what he did.

It's worse because he could end it, he knew that he should but he was so stupidly in love with you that he couldn't bring himself to do it. Hell, even his friends loved you! When the lines between just hooking up and falling in love started to blur, he had no idea. It came all at once, one night when you were too tired to do anything. So, you just sat around and talked, he listened to you laugh and then went on to do things to hear it again. Gone after that.

And there was no way back.

“Should we skip tonight?” He's already working his hoodie over his head before you can get your answer out. Which is, yes, of course. While you loved his friends, spending the night rolling around the sheets with him seemed a lot more appealing. He's reaching over to grab his phone from the nightstand, typing out a quick message to Joon before he's setting it back down.

Not another moment is wasted as his hands curl into the waist of your shorts, tugging them off and tossing them out of the way. You're moving up toward the headboard, legs spreading wider for him. He's dropping down to lay on his stomach, arms looping around your thighs and easily setting them over his shoulders.

His eyes are zeroing on the wet patch staining your panties, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. “Making a mess already,” He's mumbling out before he's leaning down, tongue flattening over your slit through the fabric.

Lips latching on to where he suspects your clit to be, he's instantly filling the room with the loud suction of his lips. Fingers clutching his hair as his tongue pushes out to lap at your skin through your panties, the soft whines you're letting out going straight to his dick. “So sweet,” He groans as he pulls back, tongue jutting out to lick the bit of your juices from his lips.

“More,” You're breathless, a dull ache starting in the pit of your stomach and he's hardly done much. He's flashing his upper row of teeth as he chuckles, fingers hooking into the thin band of your underwear before he's dragging them down your legs. Placing a line of wet kisses into your inner thighs.

With the grip you've got in his hair, you're attempting to pull him toward your dripping pussy. Which earns you a firm bite into your skin, tongue swiping across the forming mark. The slight sting of pain mixes deliciously with pleasure his tongue brings, you can't help but moan. Fingers tightening in his hair.

“Be patient,” Despite his words, he's moving to press wet kisses along your slit. His hand lifts to lay flat on your thigh, keeping your legs from closing as he drags his tongue toward your clit. He's sucking it into his mouth, lips pursing as he slurps loudly. He's making a messy, spit dribbling from his tongue and sliding down your folds.

Urged by the sweet sounds that you make, your fingers tugging at his hair and hips rolling, effectively grinding your pussy on his tongue. Yoongi pulls back with a loud smack, eyes focused on the wetness dripping down toward your ass.

He grins. “What a pretty fucking pussy.” Making a show of licking your taste from his lips. “Should I fuck you with my tongue, baby?” Dark eyes lift to take in the look on your face. The flush of your cheeks, eyes hooded as you try to focus on him. His gaze drops to your fingers that work at twisting your nipples into a peak. Cock hardening at the sight.

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes and it makes your core tighten in anticipation. “Or...” Middle finger lifting and pushing past your walls without an ounce of hesitation. Slipping in to the knuckle, his eyes focused on you as he curls it up, mimicking the 'come here' motion.

“Both, both. Please, do both.” You were always so greedy when it came to him. He's obsessed with the way you whine but still pulls his finger from inside of you. “But then...” The digit is wet with your arousal and he uses it as a lubricant on your asshole, slowly pushing his way through. “What about this hole?”

He's pushing his way past the tight ring, a glob of spit falling from his lips and landing directly on the hole. “Yoongi, fuck.” You're gasping. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he leans forward, tongue pushing his way past your folds. Slowly, he's pushing past your entrance, finger loosening the grip around his finger.

You're letting out a soft gasp at the feeling of him pushing a second finger past your tightness. Holding his fingers firm against your ass, tongue fucking deep into you. Your feet slide against the sheets, wanton moans falling from your lip. Yoongi licks into you like a man starved, groaning against your core while pumping his fingers. Your feet drag over the sheets, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you.

The tip of his nose is smushed against your clit, nudging against it with every swipe of his tongue, applying just the right amount of stimulation to have the tingle growing in the pit of your stomach. Hips lifting as you're letting out a desperate cry of his name. Your orgasm is quick and it startles you, thighs shaking and back arching.

He feels the new tightness around his tongue, the gush of arousal that hits his taste buds. It has his cock twitching, moments from blowing his load despite the fact that he's hasn't even fucked you yet. Eating you out always had that effect on him, though. Enjoyed it so much he would be satisfied if that was all you wanted him to do.

Although, it never was. He can tell by the way you look at him when his head lifts from between your legs. Dark eyes taking in your fucked out expression as he sucks the taste of you off his lips. He looks so hot over you. Hair disheveled, your cum dripping from his lips and chin, nose glistening with your wetness. 

“Fuck me,” You're whining, legs spreading in hopes of enticing him. He doesn't need much convincing, though, moving quickly to shove his jeans out of the way taking them along with his boxers. His body fits nicely between your legs, thighs pressed on either side of his hips.

He brushes the head of his cock against your over your entrance, and your legs lift to hook around his back. You're about to push him into you when he's being reminded of something. “Wait, wait.” The pout on your face makes him laugh. “You're ovulating,” 

The fact that he has your menstrual cycle memorized teeters on the edge of endearing and terrifying. But you're too horny to think that deep into it, especially because you know he had given his last condom away to Hoseok the night before. “It'll be fine,” You say, but he's not the slightest bit convinced.

Birth control was never your forte and he was in no position to gamble with the whole pull-out method. “How about..” His hand wraps around his length, cock dragging from your pussy between your cheeks. Something you've only tried together once, but you've been eager to do it again. Just haven't said anything to him about it.

“Okay,” You're agreeing instantly, earning a surprise raise of the brow from Yoongi. He watches as you turn on to your knees, cheek pressed against the sheets. “Fuck. Stay just like that,” Sliding off the bed, he moves to rummage through his suitcase, plucking out a small tube of lube.

Your hands are stretched behind you, palms on either side of your cheeks to spread them slightly. He takes his time with making his way back over to you, taking in the way you look spread out and ready for him. God, he loved you so much. 

The bed dips as he moves himself to kneel behind you, cock wet with lube which he spreads over your puckered hole. He takes his time pushing forward, watching the way his length disappears inside of you. Fists tightening in the sheets as a drawn-out moan leaves your lips.

You're squeezed around him much tighter than usual and it takes a few experimental thrusts before he's slipping into a comfortable pace. Hands gripping your hips as you push back into him, ass jiggling with each collide of skin. You're whining and hissing, breathy curses falling filling the air. He won't last long, had already been on the brink of it with his face between your legs.

“You're so fucking... tight, shit. I'm gonna cum,” Yoongi reaches around you, fingers dipping into your pussy. The palm of his hand presses against your clit as he pumps in and out of you. He's losing it the moment your walls are tightening around his fingers, hips pounding into you so hard your body is crashing down onto the mattress.

He's settling into a slow roll, allowing you to feel every inch of his cock as he drags it in and out. “Fuck,” He's groaning, stomach caving as cum spurts from the tip and filling you up. The first few hot strings of cum are what pushes you over, paired with the steady pound of the heel of his palm on your clit.

Your body shakes as you cum, hips rolling back into him. He fucks you shallowly through it, ignoring the sensitivity that vibrates through his cock. Instead, he focuses on the desperate whines, until your body is going limp beneath him. Heavy breaths shaking your back. He pulls back slowly, grinning at the way your hole squeezes around him as if protesting the emptiness.

“We have to do that more,” You're panting, feeling the trickle of cum that rolls down your thigh. His eyes follow it, nodding in agreement as he flops down on the mattress. The pounding in his heart is ten times worse than before and the way you curl up into his side doesn't help. An arm wrapped around his torso and cheek resting on his chest.

He watches the way your features soften, fingers tracing random lines into his side. Your soft breath hits his skin and your blinks start to slow. Fatigue washing over you and him too, but he can't seem to look away from you. Allowing his mind to wander to what it would be like if you were together and he could tell you all the things that were constantly bouncing around in his mind.

His hand lifts, fingers pushing a few stray hands of hair out of your face. He's two seconds from leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead when his name is being called loudly from the other side of the door, followed by a firm knock. It pulls you from whatever half-sleep that you were in, eyes squinting in the direction of the sound.

It's Hoseok. And from the use of his stage name, it's safe to assume they're probably filming too. He shushes you as he stands, finding his boxers in the mess of clothes. You watch sleepily as he makes his way to the door, cute butt poking out as he walks. The encounter is brief before he's sitting on the bed beside you.

He looks so cute, hair sticking up all over the place, cheeks flushed as he leans over the takeout, mixing it up before he's holding out a bite to you. You're leaning forward, allowing him to push the food into your mouth. Laughing along with him at the pieces that you miss. It's so comfortable. And nice.

You can't help but wonder what it would be like if everything wasn't this complicated. If you could just be together and talk to each other. Enjoy each other. If only it were that easy.

#min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #idol!yoongi #idol au #bts imagine #bts smut #bts #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts yoongi

[cinnamonest]

Lupophobia

Yandere "Escape Attempt" prompt - Razor

-------------------- Words: 8,944 Warnings:-fem reader, attempted noncon beastiality (none actually happens), yandere/captivity, noncon, biting, breeding, brief gendered themes/tones involving animal mating. Heavily inspired by my degrees of lewdity "deviant"/beastiality playthrough. I applied things I learned in college linguistics for this. Truly putting my education to a good purpose. --------------------- The fortunate thing about animals, and their adjacents, was that they were very easy to deceive, and no matter what, they would fall for the same trick, time and time again. "You see it girl? You want it?" You grimaced at the slimy texture on your fingers, wiggling the fatty slab in your grip and swallowing the sickness that came from looking at it. Out of, you supposed, ingrained social habits, you gave an awkward smile as you wiggled the meat. In contrast, the wolf had the opposite reaction, her ears immediately perked up, and she leaped into a playful position, front half low to the ground as her tail stuck up, and a low whine escaped her throat, eyes fixated on the meat. Yes, unlike with people, who had a greater capacity for pattern recognition and learning, who followed the fool me once, fool me twice mantra, you could count on animals to be easily deceived over and over without having to change the way you deceived them. This was far from the first time you had pulled this exact move, nor was it difficult to do -- you merely waited for a spare moment to rip out a chunk of the meat and hid it away for a little while while the rest of the pack was not looking, too absorbed in their own gorging to even cast a glance in your direction. "You want it...?" You repeated, wiggling the slab again in front of the wolf's eyes. Drool spilled out of the side of her mouth between her sharp, glistening teeth, and she let out another whine.

This was not the first time this trick had worked. This was not the first time you'd managed to steal and hide a hunk of meat away while the animals gorged themselves on the remains of whatever poor creature fell victim to them. Hell, this wasn't even the first time that this specific trick had worked on this specific individual wolf. You'd come to recognize each of them with time, even assigned them little names in your head by identifiers. She was a mother, one of the wolves that remained behind at the little den while the others went out for hunting, leaving only the nursing females, the smallest pups, and, well, yourself. Albeit in a weakened state in nursing, they were still easily capable of overpowering you, and, through means you honestly did not understand, they somehow knew they were supposed to prevent you from leaving. Even when you stood up, one or more of them would immediately pick their heads up, ears falling flat and even letting out the softest of warning growls.

She whined in front of you, eyes fixated on the slab. You wiggled it again. It was an easy deceit to pull off. "You want it... then go... get it!"

You hurled the hunk of red flesh as far as your arms could manage, and, exactly per plan, the she-wolf immediately bolted in the direction of the throw. And likewise, you turned on your heel and began the now-routine dash in the opposite direction -- the direction of human civilization. That had been the easy part.

It was the rest of the way that would be difficult. This time of day was the only opportunity you had to pull this whole thing off, but the sun was quickly setting, and unlike the wolves, you were not exactly gifted with night vision. You likened the route to an obstacle course, a puzzle -- repeated actions that became muscle memory. The first few times, you'd merely stumbled around in the woods for a few minutes. With each successive attempt, you retained more knowledge of the path, could clear a longer distance in increasingly shorter times, memorized landmarks, remembered little helpful actions and hindrances, and with each successive attempt, you found yourself making it closer and closer to the end of the woods than the time before. There wasn't much else to go by, so you used trees that stood out to you. The huge tree with the hollowed out hole in the center was the first landmark -- go right. The tree that had an oddly-angled branch came next. So on and so on. You measured success by how many of said landmarks you could pass in time, striving to make each a longer and longer venture every time. Just when despair had been finally getting the better of you, the last attempt had had you finding a footpath used by the Springvale hunters, and that meant you were close. If you could just find that again -- there. To say flat ground was a welcome feeling to your bare feet was an understatement. The slimy dirt texture of the forest floor and prickly leaves and pine needles was not a pleasant sensation. Nonetheless, there was no time to savor it or anything, soon, soon, you'd walk on paved streets, and floors, and, and... You stopped for a mere moment, panting, desperately taking in deep breaths to soothe the exhaustion burning in your chest. You darted your head from side to side. There was no sign of anything coming your way. No footsteps or growls in the distance behind you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, as much from physical exertion as it was from a blooming, disbelieving excitement. I might actually make it.  Your legs felt weak at the prospect, and you steadied your stumbling against a tree. You were certain you'd never made it this far before. It was difficult to process, almost surreal. After so, so, so many times, over the course of months and months, you were so used to being stopped by this point that your brain half-expected it at any moment. You'd really reached a point at which the escape attempts were almost done with a knowing futility, you no longer really had much hope when setting out, merely running on principle and the faint chance that was now so real. You could be stopped any moment. And yet, after a few more breaths, nothing happened. You shook your head to clear the dizziness, taking a deep breath and squinting forward in the twilight. You nearly felt your heart stop when you processed a shape in the distance -- a building. Springvale. It was distant and downhill, but visible. Right there within your reach, and all you had to do was go to it, so you steadied your breath and took off as fast as-- The world suddenly spun around you as something snatched at your ankle. Your shriek echoed off the trees, reverberating until it grew silent. A clanging of metallic sounds accompanied it, rattling hollowed objects triggered into motion. Everything began to settle, the sudden flooding of stimuli to your eyes and the feeling of sudden movement both slowing to a gentle sway. You were unbreathing, unblinking, heart pounding as your vision spun and, in a panicked haze, you desperately darted your eyes and head each way, struggling to process your senses. Your head felt suddenly tight and tense, your upper half heavy, and a burning pain wrapped around your ankle. Everything was... upside down. You looked down -- no, up -- at your feet. One was bent at the knee, falling in the direction of gravity towards your head, the other was extended perfectly straight, tense and unable to move. A cord was snagged around your ankle, a perfect tightened knot that wrapped around the flesh. You looked up -- no, again, down -- at the ground. Nausea lurched in your stomach as you did, seeing the forest floor a good drop below. You took a moment to process. You followed the trail of the rope from where it tugged painfully at your ankle, followed it to the branch it looped over, and down the trunk to the base of the tree, where it was securely tied around a knotted root. The metallic sound had come from what appeared to be collected garbage, metal scraps, a glass bottle or two, and some metal tools and cans all tied up in a net and secured to the spot where the rope met the branch, an alert that the trap had been set off. Your mouth hung open, you blinked over and over, before finally, bitter anger burst in your chest. "Ghhhhh!" You let out a frustrated, furious cry, thrashing wildly and pulling at your scalp. You kicked and struggled, but only succeeded in making yourself swing, making the nausea and dizziness worse. A trap. Of course. The furthest you've ever gotten, and you were stopped by a fucking hunting trap. Damn those Springvale hunters for coming this far out into the woods. It could be worse, you tried to console yourself. It could have been a bear trap, which would have more or less destroyed your leg, possibly taken it clean off. But nonetheless, misery and frustration bubbled up in your chest as you swung back and forth, slowing down to stillness. You'd never made it this close to town before. You could see the road as well, albeit just barely, a few hundred yards in the distance. You could make out where the dirt path became gravel in the distance, upside-down in the last light of the quickly-setting sun, and, as tears filled your eyes, you reached a hand out to it, miserably grasping your hand shut before letting your arm fall. It was so, so close! Now you were trapped, stuck here in this miserable, humiliating predicament, and you'd have to wait to be saved, and inevitably dragged back the way you'd come. You thrashed again, trying and failing to curl your body up and reach your foot. Your fingers just barely grazed the knot of the rope, but even if you could reach it, it was designed for your body weight to hold the knot in place to begin with. You let out a shaky sigh and a small sob, tears dripping directly out of your eyes and falling downward with gravity. You wiped your eyes, and a thought made a bit of nervous, daring hope light up in your chest. You were close to Springvale, right? Maybe you could be heard. This trap was set by the Springvale hunters themselves, right? You'd seen these types before, a snare that, when tripped, released on one side and whipped around the center of the force that tripped the rope, forming a perfect, tight knot around the ankle of the prey before hauling it upwards by use of weight. You took a deep breath and cupped your hands around your mouth. "Help!" You called out, straining out the vowel as long as you could, before inhaling a ragged breath and repeating the action. As the echoes quieted, you waited, but nothing happened. You wriggled and writhed, but only succeeded in making the net of metal rattle. You supposed it helped the hunters hear animals struggling, and led them to the source. But the hunters wouldn't be back out until tomorrow, you couldn't afford to wait for them to come rescue you on their own. You waited a moment, trying again and again to yell. The Springvale hunters, a traveler on the road, hell, you'd accept help from treasure hoarders if they hung out in this part of the wilderness. Anyone, anyone human. Well, except one, preferably, but still. Any other human being. You couldn't even remember the last human interaction you'd had. At least, a fully human interaction, without any licks or whines or growls or other canid behaviors you'd become far too accustomed to. But nobody came. You waited. Tried again. And again. And again. No response. Your head was beginning to pound and throb. You'd black out if you stayed like this much longer, and you were pretty certain it could even kill you. But nothing was responding to your cries for help. You wracked your brain in panic for a solution. An idea popped into your head. You'd seen Razor do it before, and the wolves responded to him even though he produced the sound with a human voice, so maybe you too could... It was embarrassing, but worth a try. You didn't exactly have many options. You jerked your bodyweight in the other direction, making yourself turn to face the woods in the direction you'd come from instead of Springvale. You reached your quickly-numbing arms up and cupped your hands around your mouth, forming your lips into an "o" shape, and, well, swallowed your pride. You didn't have any better ideas. "Awooooo--" You tried to mimic the howls you'd heard so many times as accurately as you could manage, but it came out a bit strained and comical. You waited a moment, and, receiving no response, whimpered in your desperation and tried a second time. Your voice echoed throughout the trees. You weren't certain exactly how it worked, you were pretty certain they had different tones they used, some for aggression, some as a cry of distress, but you weren't capable of telling them apart. You could only hope for the best. It wasn't really as if they could help you, but at the very least, they would probably go find Razor for you. They'd done so before, after another humiliating failure when you'd fallen into a hole in the earth during a past attempt. You'd learned they were far more intelligent than you once thought, and they understood things like that, at least. But gods, did this make you feel dumb. Your face heated with embarrassment with each attempt. You inhaled to try a third time, but as you did, a shrill howl pierced the air from a distance. A response. Your heartrate picked up as a little spark of relief and hope -- albeit dread that lurked in the back of your head -- made you shudder. You howled again, and received a second response. It carried on for a few minutes that way, sounding back and forth, and it sounded like the other was getting closer. Finally, you heard steps, and anticipation swelled in your chest. You were pretty sure that the response howls had been that of an actual wolf -- even you, in your time in these woods, had learned to tell the difference between Razor's vocalizations and that of the wolves. There were simply some aspects of the canid sounds that human vocal chords could only mimic, but not recreate to a perfect likeness, and thus his vocalizations were a bit distinct. Still, you could be wrong, or, even better, perhaps the footsteps coming close to you weren't an animal at all, but perhaps a different figure, maybe a hunter...? No, that was definitely a four-legged gait. That, too, was something you had learned to tell apart, a two-legged gait versus a four-legged one. It kind of came in handy when you were trying to to hide or run and needed to gauge exactly what was hunting you down. You craned your neck to the best of your ability in the direction of the sound. A creature emerged from the trees. You took a sharp breath. ...It was merely a very large, brownish-greyish wolf. It gazed up at you with big black eyes and ears perked up in alertness. You squinted. You'd never seen this wolf before. You were fairly certain of this much; during your time in the woods, you'd learned to distinguish between them pretty well. You learned the little differences -- this one was bigger, this one had a scratch on its ear, this one had a scar on its hip, this one was more brown and this one was more grey, and so on it went. This one was different from all the wolves you'd become familiar with. The wolf sat down, tilting its head at you, tongue lolling out as it panted. It was huge, muscular looking. "Help," you whimpered. As aware as you were that it obviously did not understand, you couldn't think of anything else to do. You flailed a bit in your desperation, and pointed towards the spot where the rope was tied to the tree. "Help me... Come on, please..." The wolf actually followed the line of your pointing, eyes settling on the base of the trap. And, miraculously, moved towards it. Your heart pounded. Did it actually understand? Would it help? It walked over and bit at the rope, shaking its head rapidly in the same way you'd witnessed the wolves kill small prey, or how dogs played with toys. It was helping! You shuddered again, hope burning in your chest, and a tear of relief dripping from your eyes upside-down to the ground below. And if this wolf wasn't from the pack, it wouldn't take you back, right? How, you weren't certain, but the other wolves seemed to understand the... arrangement going on. Many of your escape attempts had been thwarted not by your captor himself, but by the pack -- surrounding you in a circle, barking and growling and snapping at you until you were forced to turn back, even tackling you as you ran, biting your clothes and arms to drag you back. But this wolf would let you go, right? .... Wait a second. Cold dread suddenly made your stomach lurch. This wolf had no reason to help you, and no reason to drag you back. It had every reason to see you as easy prey. Any relief or hope you'd felt was immediately replaced with a chilling rush of panic. Yes, you would be easy prey, right there for the taking. You thrashed about, trying again to reach up and loosen the knot on your foot, but failing. Fuck. You were trapped between two unpleasant options. There was a chance the wolf was just helping, but in the end, it was an animal, not a person, with instincts of goodwill or benevolence. It would follow its instincts. Once you hit the ground, you'd have to run. That was the only solution. But... it also occurred to you only then that you were hanging a good fifteen feet or so in the air. Upside down. What if the fall knocked you out? Hell, what if it broke your legs? What if it broke your spine? If it were Razor himself, he'd lower you down slowly, but the wolf lacked the sense  or ability to do so. You'd just drop. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was a thick coating of leaves on the ground, which would hopefully help, and this part of the forest had soft, clay-like ground rather than hard rock, but nonetheless, it was a long drop. Dammit! Your body wracked with a sob of frustration, anger, and panic. Why did all of this have to happen to you? You'd asked yourself that that plenty of times. You didn't do anything to deserve-- There was a snapping sound. You shrieked as gravity immediately sent you crashing down, world spinning around you, and you collided with the earth with crash that took the breath from your lungs; the sound flooded your ears, echoed as your head went numb. You landed directly on your back, eyes looking up at the trees and the sky beyond then as the world spun around you and your vision darkened. Pain ran through your body on impact, a rough, blunt sort of pain that ached through your flesh and meat and bones. You groaned in pain, teeth clenched as it flooded your senses, trembling as it slowly began to ebb away after the initial blow. The wolf's face popping into your vision sent you jolting back to awareness. It was startling, it's cold wet nose pressing against your own, and after a moment, it lapped its tongue against your face. Panic seized your entire body, and you were frozen, unable to move, not even breathing, eyes wide in terror. And then it licked you again, letting out a soft, tender whine. It was being friendly. You let out a shuddering sigh as relief washed over you again, and you thanked whatever god was looking out for you for granting you your life. "Th-thank you," you murmured, reaching a trembling hand up to pat the wolf's head, wincing at the soreness in your arm. It whined again, bumping its head against yours. Wolves were far, far larger than you were certain most people realized. Back home, you'd always thought that the howls you heard at night from within the safety of Mondstadt's walls were from creatures no bigger than the large hunting dogs you'd seen in Springvale. In reality, that was not the case. Even the smallest of the wolves were massive in comparison to those dogs, their heads easily twice the size of your own. You'd been utterly terrified of them in the beginning, bursting into frightened tears whenever one made its way over to sniff you in their curiosity, or dump an offering of a small creature's carcass at your feet in a show of friendliness (an unsettling experience, no matter how many time you were told it's good, 'cause they like (y/n)), or lick your face in an attempt to show affection. You'd grown used to it with time. But this wolf was even larger than the majority you'd seen, easily thrice your size in every capacity. Likely a loner separated from its pack. You were aware there were sometimes conflicts between the larger, stronger pack males that ultimately ended in the loser leaving the pack and heading off on its own, although it seemed nearly incomprehensible that a wolf of this size would lose to anything. Had it chosen the route of violence, you wouldn't have stood a chance. You laid there for a moment, head spinning as you took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself down and regain your sense of control over your body. You curled your fingers and toes, flexed the muscles in your arms and legs. You were a bit scraped up and your entire body still ached from the impact, but miraculously, nothing seemed broken. You closed your eyes, feeling the cool evening breeze and the wet tongue that was repeatedly lapping at your face. Finally, after a moment, with a groan at the ache in your body, you pushed yourself upward with your elbows, flipping over to your hands and knees, pulling your leg forward to stand-- The breath was knocked out of you yet again as a massive weight crashed down onto your body. You clawed at the ground, gasping to regain oxygen, body going tense. "Wh-what-" The creature let his bodyweight fall down on your frame, and you grunted as your upper half slammed into the ground. It rendered you entirely immobile, this wolf was both massive and heavy, you could barely breathe under the sheer mass of its body. You struggled to push yourself back up onto your elbows. "H-hey, what are you--" With a whine, it rutted its hips forward. Oh, fuck. "N-no!" You tried to rear up, pushing your upper half upward on your elbows as hard as you could, to no avail. Its weight was crushing. "B-bad! Bad dog! Stop!" You clawed at the dirt, gasping as it thrust again. "Get off!" It only let out the same high, throaty whine, thrusting its hips several times in quick succession, humping your ass with desperation. You could feel its blunt-ended cock digging into the flesh, making your blood run cold. When it rutted forward, the motion hiked your ragged little dress up, bunching up the fabric and exposing your cunt. You whimpered with fear, desperately trying to drag yourself forward. "Stop, stop, get off!" You thrashed again, achieving nothing by the action. The worst part, the dread that was quickly overtaking your thoughts, was that you knew it was futile. You'd learned a long time ago that your resistance would mean nothing, not by the brutal laws of the world outside of the fragile sense of safety human society provided. It was expected. It happened among the wolves themselves all the time -- the mates were not something that were chosen in the same way humans did. Too many times you'd witnessed the ritual -- the males would fight, snarling and growling and lunging at each other until one would give up and run scurrying away, tail tucked between its legs. Growing up with all the knowledge you'd learned from books and what humans generally observed of the animals, you'd always assumed that from that point, the she-wolves would then gladly and willingly copulate with the victor, but, you'd quickly learned, that was not the case. It had shocked you the first few times, your eyes widening and your mouth dropping open as you witnessed the poor females get tackled, mounted, their whimpers as teeth sank into their shoulders and kept them in place. It was brutal, and yet, you'd come to understand and accept it was simply the way things were. Perhaps the part that had shocked you the most was how accepted it was -- the other wolves would simply look on, adjusted to what was normal among them, and the brutalized female would, from that point on, act as a normal mate to what more or less was originally her assailant -- licking and grooming each other, sleeping next to one another, spending time with each other, all as if such a thing made sense. Given the acceptant, compliant state you sometimes found yourself slipping into, you supposed you weren't too different in that way. Because they're strong, you'd been told. Beating the other male and forcibly mating the female herself signified strength. They were supposed to try to run and fight, and the male was supposed to forcibly overpower them, a display of strength, of suitableness as a partner. That was why fighting back didn't matter -- it was supposed to be that way, in the minds of the animals, and thus they were content with that setup. The present moment was anything but content. Another rut of the wolf's hips brought you snapping out of your brief thought, back to the moment at hand. The forest was quiet aside from your own struggling, the last rays of light were fading from the sky, the moon hanging high in place of their light. You let out a shrill, squeaking cry, thrashing with renewed effort, but, predictably, not even budging. "Get off! Get off me! Stop it, bad dog!" No matter how you tried, you couldn't move your body in the slightest, perfectly pinned still. "Fuck..." It let out another whine, not even seeming to notice your struggles, grasping at your shoulder with its teeth, and you feared that if it bit down, it might shatter your shoulder. It rutted forward, and this time you froze, entire body going tense as the blunt head of its cock pressed firmly against your exposed slit. You finally managed to claw at the leaf-covered ground enough to pull yourself forward, if but just an inch -- and the wolf, snarling, thrust its own body forward to push you back into the same position. One of its front paws reached forward and clawed onto your shoulder, and you squealed as it pulled you back, forming a tiny cut in the flesh of your jugular. Your began to nearly hyperventilate, trembling, breaths shallow and quick. "S-stop..." Your plea was defeatedly quiet, realizing that further protest would only hurt you. Tears gathered in your eyes. Your back was bent at an angle under the sheer weight of the furry mass that kept you pinned, and it felt like your very lungs were crushed, breathing quickly becoming difficult. You began to feel your body tingling with numbness. It was so heavy and difficult to breathe you weren't certain you'd even survive if it fucked you. Panic seized your brain, overriding any coherent thought. There was a snarling, growling sort of noise that cut through the surrounding stillness. It wasn't coming from the creature mounted on your body. It didn't sound canid. It was human. Much like the howls, you had learned, with time, how to distinguish between the real and the imitation, those sounds that, no matter how long of a lifetime of practice one had, could simply not match the vocals of another species. The wolf stopped its motions, turning its head, and likewise immediately transitioned its entire demeanor, tensing up and returning the sound, a low snarl, baring its teeth as its snout wrinkled up. It dismounted your body and lowered itself to the ground, hips and shoulders raised as its core sank low, a preparatory stance ready to lunge. You fell forward, face crashing into the leaves, before scrambling upwards and falling back on your ass, propped up with your hands behind you and your knees bent as you froze, unable to move a muscle, eyes open wide and gasping for breath as air burned in your lungs. You could see red-orange eyes glaring in the moonlight from a short distance, and for once, the face of the wolf-boy made a wave of relief come crashing down, rather than panic at being found. He made another low sound in his throat, a snarling growl. His shoulders hunched up in a similar motion to the wolf, baring his teeth, glare locked on the transgressor. He didn't have a weapon on him, so his hands clenched into fists at his side. You'd witnessed this plenty of times in the past by now, but never before with him as one of the participants. The other male wolves within the pack hadn't exactly taken an interest in you, rather, simultaneously accepted you as one of their own, while seeming to recognize you as something of an "other," as they did him. Among them, though, these conflicts were regularly occurring, a constantly shifting hierarchal dynamic that was weighted in blood and pure brute strength. Your heartrate picked up anew. Strong as Razor may be, this thing was massive. And he didn't have his claymore, you remembered he'd left it near the den earlier, before going on his daily routine to check the various animal traps. This wolf could kill him. And given that it wasn't a pack member, it wouldn't hesitate to do so. The wolf took a few heavy steps forward, growling all the while, and the wolf-boy reciprocated the action, a deep low growl in his throat as he stomped forward, fingers curling into a claw-like shape, not exhibiting so much as the slightest hesitation to show aggression against the massive creature. You tried to stand on your shaking legs, but fell on your ass again. "W-wait, no, r-run," you stammered, words spewing out of your mouth before you could process them, "he'll hurt you--" Your vision went white, bright light exploded all around, a crashing, booming sort of sound cutting off your words. There was a heat to it that you could feel on your skin, but it blinded your vision, leaving you blinking as, in a mere moment, the electric energy faded to a purplish glow that sparked with a buzz in the palm of his hand. The wolf leaped back in terrified shock, immediately flattening its ears, turning and tucking its tail between its legs, scrambling with fear into the darkness of the trees. And just like that, the threat was gone. You were left slack-jawed, mouth hanging open, trembling and panting as you watched it disappear, footsteps growing quieter and quieter until they could no longer be heard. Instead, the leaves to your side crunched in a two-legged pattern as the figure drew closer, and then dropped down to his knees to get on a face-to-face level. You turned your head and your eyes met. His eyes were wide and pupils blown even wider, mouth slightly open, looking you over. His eyes had always had a softness to them, full of light. After a moment, he reached up, slowly, and wiped the tears from your eyes, a soft, unthinking gesture, and leaned forward. He nuzzled his face against yours, and, after a moment, licked a few quick, short laps up the side of your face. It was nothing you weren't very well used to, and you merely sat numbly as he did so. His eyes trailed downward, widening as they met the gash that had been created on your neck by the massive wolf's claws, and he leaned forward again, lapping at your skin. You inhaled a sharp breath at the sting of his tongue on the wound, but you knew it actually was helpful in terms of clotting, so you didn't resist. You sat like that for a moment, silent, still, letting him clean up the wound, saliva naturally helping the healing process. It was bizarrely intimate in its own way, but it certainly wasn't the first time he'd helped in that way with a wound. It stopped stinging after a moment, blood clotting under the wet warmth. He pulled his head back, looking over you again as if to ascertain your unharmed state, eyes wide and expression flat, looking directly at your face - your weary face, trembling lip, expression still uneasy from the remaining shock. "You... Okay?" There was a softness to his face, a wide-eyed look of innocent concern. You did your best to nod. Any hope you'd had left had been crushed at some point in the adrenaline of the encounter, and thus, all chances of escaping gone, defeat and weariness washed over your body, and you slumped forward in exhaustion. Of course, he was unaware of and most likely did not even consider why you suddenly fell against him, he tended to take any action you made at face value and accepted it as simply what it was, and likewise, every action he made was easily interpreted the same way. It was, you sometimes consoled yourself, a rather welcome simplicity in contrast to the hidden and subtle meanings that humans often portrayed through their actions, and you never had to worry about an innocent action being misinterpreted maliciously, nor did you worry that your emotions were too transparent in your actions. Instead, he merely seemed pleased by the gesture, eagerly wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling your closer, rubbing his head up and down so the sides of your faces nuzzled together, squeezing you tightly. "I heard you," he said, a cheerful sort of pride in his voice. "Came to help." You swallowed. "Th-thank you..." As much as his sudden appearance crushed any chance you had of reaching Springvale, you couldn't help but feel a genuine relief, even gratitude, for saving you from what would have undoubted been a highly painful and traumatizing experience, if you'd survived the lack of oxygen. Not that you weren't already getting your fair share of traumatizing experiences out here, but, well, none quite like what your experience would have been had he not shown up. After a still, silent moment of embrace, he released you, shifted and stood up, but then suddenly tensed, and his eyes widened with what seemed like surprise, or perhaps realization, mouth opening slightly. His eyes were cast downward, settled on the cord that was still tightly tied around your ankle, and reached down to loosen the knot, slipping it off and tossing the remaining cord to the side. You made a small sound as if to start speaking, but cut off and fell silent, shutting your mouth. And then, as he came back up, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and processing, mouth slightly open as he looked a bit to one side, then the other, to you, and up to the tree from which you'd hung. The wheels were turning. Finally, after a moment, it seemed to click, his eyes went wide with realization for a split second before he turned his head back towards you and narrowed his eyes in a glare. His "angry" face had always been a bit difficult to take seriously, he had maintained a baby face despite his age, big eyes and soft features making it look like more of a pout than anything, but in time you'd learned the rightful amount of fear to have at seeing it. Your heart sank in your chest. "You ran away again." His voice was a bitter, grumpy mumble. You'd feared that when you noticed the surprising lack of anger up until a few moments ago. That it hadn't yet clicked with him, until now, exactly why you were out here, how you got out here, in the first place. He might have thought the larger wolf had dragged you out here, or, perhaps more likely, it had not crossed his mind at all in the intensity of the previous moments, too focused on conflict and comfort. "I..." You trailed off, trembling. There was a moment of silence. You couldn't exactly argue against it. It was true that he was rather gullible, and would often believe rather ridiculous excuses or explanations that anyone else would never buy, but there were limits to that, and at the present moment, you couldn't think of any excuse that even he would believe. Even if the wolf had come in to drag you away, the she-wolf set to guard you would have made a noise to alert the others, and he knew that. There was a moment of silence, and, not receiving any objection to his claim, he exhaled a frustrated huff through his nostrils. "I'm mad." As nice as it was that you didn't have to worry about being misinterpreted, another pro to your situation was that your captor was easily the most transparent person you'd ever met, bluntly honest, so much so it sometimes worked against him. You were pretty sure he couldn't be indirect or subtle with his words if he tried. Passive-aggressiveness or anything of the sort was foreign. "I'm sorry," you murmured, hoping to ease his anger, but you knew by now those words didn't really hold any meaning to him. He opened his mouth, that same pout on his face, and took a breath as if to speak, but no words came out. He closed his mouth, looking at the ground for a moment, opened again, repeated the process, and again, before roughly shaking his head, head hanging and expression falling to something like irritation and disappointment. With other people, you'd feel more intimidated by silence, silence meant someone was angry and trying to get under your skin. And while he made no attempt to hide being angry, you knew the silence wasn't an intentional passive-aggressive act, but rather, just lacking the proper words. It was a process you went through frequently, and to some degree, you felt bad for him. Having feelings, having complex thoughts, but lacking the knowledge or ability to articulate them, being unable to adequately express what you thought and felt, limited to such simple terms as sad and mad, words that could only convey incredibly simple feelings... you could only imagine how frustrating that would be. He knew that those words weren't enough, but didn't have any other ones to use. You understood why, then, he grunted in frustration, kicking at the ground, sending a few leaves scattering. But you also knew that if he could not express himself with words, actions would have to suffice. You knew better than to expect any different. This routine, despite its variances in the specifics of how the events went down, went like clockwork from this point onward, the moment of defeat. They say humans are, after all, creatures of habit. You nonetheless let out a little surprised sound at the suddenness with which you were lifted by the armpits, quickly moved a few steps to the side and unceremoniously pushed forward, facing one of the many boulders that dotted the forest floor. Instinctively, releasing an exhale of defeat and acceptance, braced yourself against it, hands pressed into the rock. You were technically standing, but leaning far forward, bodyweight resting mostly onto the rock you were bending over on. His front pressed against you, hand pushing your back down into an arch, latching arms around your waist. There was no hesitation, no preparation, merely pulling the fabric of your dress up with one swift motion, and the waist of his pants down in another, all in a matter of a single moment, and rutting against you, once, twice, cock slipping against your folds, and on the third thrust, it actually slid in, pushing about halfway in with harsh force with no warning. You gasped at the sting, clawing at the rock as your face twisted with the slight pain, but his hand gripped hard on your shoulder. "Stay... Still." It was honestly impressive, you sometimes thought, to manage to get a cock inside you so easily with hip angling alone. He'd never thought to use his hands to do so, you guessed due to merely mimicking what he observed, as all humans did. Nonetheless, you let out a mewl at the feeling of friction against your walls as it dragged, pulling out a bit before slamming back in. Then again, faster. And again, faster still. And finally, setting into a rhythm, quick and harsh, your body lurching forward at the force. Defeat and despond had fully set in, and you made no movement to fight back, instead attempting to ease the discomfort by pushing back with the thrusts. And then, after a moment, it stopped. It often did -- again, a set pattern, a routine. Increasingly often these days, he changed his mind at this point, initially going with the instinctive, natural option, but it would take a moment to remember that there was an alternative. You shuddered at the sliding feeling and emptiness as he pulled back out, but even though you braced yourself, the air was knocked out of you as you were flipped over, back hitting the rock -- and this time aching as the bruising flesh from the earlier fall was hit again -- now leaning your weight onto the rock on your back, facing forward. The roughness with which you were tossed about and maneuvered was, you knew, not intentional, nor out of malice, but it always left you disoriented as your vision spun a bit. And it was only a single second before you were filled again, gasping a deep breath and reaching your hands out to claw at his back as you felt yourself stretched apart all in one motion, and your legs fell into the routine position of hooking over his arms. He liked it this way. The human way, he called it, with you on your back in some form rather than on your hands and knees, facing him rather than turning away, which had been the only way you'd done it -- you supposed the only way he had been familiar with -- for a good while. You'd introduced the position once when your arms and legs were exhausted from strain, and, perhaps to your relief, it became the most common way that the routine went down. You supposed that, deep down, no matter the way in which a person was raised, there were certain innate needs and instincts that could not be overridden, woven into the very biology of a person. For humans, intimacy, the feeling of affection, and you supposed that that itch was met for him more adequately this way. And he liked to mimic normal behaviors in that regard. You recalled a time ago, back before you were brought out here for good, the wide-eyed fascination with which he'd watch passing couples of people on the road and streets, would make an attempt to imitate the same actions, albeit lacking in the same gentleness, technique, or appropriate timing. Reaching out to grab and hold your hand (with a crushing grip) as you walked, awkwardly pressing your mouths together (so firmly that your teeth clacked and your jaw hurt). That, at least, had gotten better. Now, it was somewhat gentle, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Gentle, but still very awkward, lacking in the rhythmic motions with which you'd expect, more like holding still but pressing firmly against you, but lapping a quick lick to your lips. You could taste blood on his lips and tongue, a permanent coppery taste that never went away. That didn't last long. It was hard to maintain the mouth contact when he started rutting into you, causing your body to rock in jerking motions up and down on the surface, and his face buried itself into your shoulder, panting shallow breaths that were warm against your flesh. And again, like clockwork, you knew how the issue of your body rocking back and forth, disrupting the rhythm, would be solved, and you inhaled as you braced yourself, first for the tightening grip of arms around your waist, and then-- You gasped a sharp breath despite your mental preparation as teeth sunk into your jugular, opposite the one with the injury, further locking your bodies together. He growled, a low throaty sound. Teeth gnawed at your shoulder before releasing and sinking down in a different spot, digging into the flesh just short of the force it would take to break it. You cursed whichever god thought it would be funny to give him abnormally sharp canines. Even with your weight leaning against the rock, a good portion of it was still being supported by his arms, which, with any normal human being, you would hope would cause enough strain to perhaps slow down the actual thrusting, but you knew better by now. Nor did you expect any kind of buildup or anything, no, you gritted your teeth at the immediate fast pace that dragged against your insides, raw and with little fluid to lessen the friction. The quickness and suddenness always left you sore, your internal parts not having enough time or stimulation to expand or prepare, so each thrust that slammed into the top of your insides sparked a shock of pain and pleasure sensation so strong your entire body jolted with the feeling. The bruising soreness of the recent abuse to the same spot -- how many times earlier today, three, four? -- heightened the sensitivity. And, as with the rest of the routine, you didn't expect words. You couldn't blame him -- talking was hard enough when he was focused, you imagined it was much harder when preoccupied with sensation, and with less blood in the brain. It also made sense that he didn't seem to process anything you said either -- any slow down or wait fell on deaf ears, or rather, non-comprehending ears. Eventually you, too, fell into the same state- "I-- hah, ah, w-wait, mnn-" -- unable to form words, unable to take in anything around you, pure sensation clouding your brain of any and all thoughts. You heard your own little cries ring out and echo through the empty forest, and soft, pleasured whines in your ear, hot breath from panting that grew faster and faster as the thrusts became more erratic and harder, slamming in and out, the wet, slapping sound ringing out with your own voice. It pushed against all the right spots, stretching you incomprehensibly full, overloading your brain with the feeling, and the harder your nails sank into his back, the harder his teeth bit down into your neck. The sparks of pain from the feeling felt small, distant, erased by the overwhelming good feeling created by adrenaline and pleasure, and the thought of how badly it would hurt later was the furthest thing from your mind in the moment. And because you knew words meant nothing in the heat of these moments, you had learned that announcing or warning for orgasm didn't matter. Neither of you needed words -- as with many things, you could communicate it without them just fine. He could still sense it, the way you clenched and your hands grasped at his hair and raked down his spine, and in response, the thrusting somehow grew harder and faster still. A perfect and clearly understood communication as clear as any verbal exchange. The squealing you made, the way your body spasmed and your back arched, was better than anything you could have said, really. You weren't... actually fully certain he understood the action as anything other than communication, like a message indicating "cum now." You assumed that was what it meant to him, since, as always, you felt the movement stop, panting as he pushed into your one more time, holding your hips as close as possible as you felt a twitching inside. It was always perfectly coordinated like that. The peak was always too short, always that same burst of feeling that you wished could last just a moment longer, leaving you panting. Heavy breaths in and out, shuddering, sweaty flesh clinging to each other. You could feel the arms that held your legs up shaking with aftershock, forehead falling to rest against the spot between the mounds of your chest. Then, after a moment, a nuzzle, slowly rubbing a cheek against your collarbones. As soon as that stopped, his head popped up again, looking up at your face with those same wide amber eyes, soft and somehow, despite everything, they always seemed so innocent and bright. A curious, but fairly neutral, content sort of wide-eyed gaze. Anger resolved. Sometimes you were grateful it was that easy. "Ok. You're... good, now." You understood without needing it explained. "Good" indicated something along the lines of fixed or resolved, the phrase "you're good" indicating, in this context, resolution. You assumed it had originated from listening to others in some context or another. You swallowed, and nodded. There was no point in fighting now. A sort of numbing aftershock had set in, and your head was spinning so much that even if you ran, you might fall over on your own without the inevitable tackling. It was a struggle for another day... the same conclusion this always, always resulted in, a conclusion you reached more and more quickly each time, but you tried to put the concern that thought sparked away, merely standing on trembling legs. "...Stupid hunting trap," you muttered, giving the remains of cord a kick into the leaves. He tilted his head and made a soft hm? of confusion. "Th-the trap," your voice was raspy. "They laid out traps for - for catching animals, the hunters, you know." He blinked for a moment as he processed your words, then shook his head, but smiled, beaming with pride. "Mm-nn, I made it. Put lots of them around here." You squinted, head jerking up to scan the treeline - sure enough, now that you looked closer, you could see several treetops dotted with similar nets full of scraps set to make a sound when triggered and struggled against. In fact, the more you gazed around, you realized there were easily dozens and dozens of similar traps, some of different styles and shapes, all perfectly lining the edge of the woods before the road. "...You won't catch things like that," you muttered. "It's too close to the end of the woods." Another slightly confused stare. He shook his head. "Traps are... for you." You could always count on him for two things. Undying loyalty, and obtuse honesty. You blinked at him, expression flat in blunt surprise, then, with a crooked smile, you let out a single huff of bitter, tired laughter. You were numbed to the point that you were, at the very least, able to recognize the humor of it all. Another way of coping, perhaps. It only occurred to you then, as your thoughts cleared, how relief had washed over you when the lone wolf had run out into the night, but your mind had not been focused on your own violation. You remembered your words. Run, he'll hurt you. Your only concern in that moment had been his safety. The thought set off some sort of alarm bell in your head, but the utter exhaustion made it difficult to place much concern in anything.

Your legs were trembling in aftershock, numb and heavy, but it wasn't as if that mattered. Even as you briefly put a hand to the stone beside you to lean your weight onto in an effort to stand, you knew you wouldn't be walking anyway, that wasn't part of the routine. And sure enough, as you got about halfway upward, arms wrapped around your waist instead, and you were roughly maneuvered, tossed like a ragdoll, knocking the breath out of you as you were tossed over his shoulder. "Okay, we're going home, now." He started taking a few heavy steps forward, not even struggling in the slightest to carry your full bodyweight, instead walking as if you were light as air. You didn't protest. You slumped over defeatedly, merely casting your gaze all around, trying desperately to memorize the locations of at least a few of the traps in the dark, but knowing full well in the back of your mind you'd never get past them all. No matter how you may outsmart them, you could never win. It occurred to you that, in a way, you were the one falling for the same trick over and over, continuously placing a ridiculous hope in escape and falling for your own foolishness time and time again. Perhaps that made you a bit more like the animals than you liked to admit.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader

[heyiwrotesomethings]

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though!  Word Count: 15,088 

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck  only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks,  Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible. 

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #shinobu kochou #shinobu kocho #shinobu x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #kny oneshots #kny x reader

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE FIVE || CURSE WOMB MUST DIE II 

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : swearing + violence + mention of blood + mention of organ + mention of death + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 24 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 4.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : curse womb must die I

↳ next episode : after rain

↳ barista’s notes : back again with another episode of jujutsu kaisen everyone ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ and we have ended the detention centre arc and now will be moving on to the training arc! isn’t that crazy, you have finished episode five ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ i’m not really good with fight scenes, so if you care confused, don’t hesitant to ask me anything to clarify! WE ALSO FINALLY MEET THE SECOND-YEARS!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique 

Destructive Curse Spell number four: Byakurai : 3:35-3:40

Sentan Hakuja : Wiki Page

‘Cursed Energy Web Technique’ : video (4:23-5:27)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing

“If you can, please send a grade one sorcerer or higher but that won’t be necessary if I don't die,” you sternly commented, leading both Fushiguro and Ijichi to shiver at the statement you just announced.

Still shaken at what you had just said, Ijichi sent himself off before closing the window to prevent any cold raindrops from coming at him as he drove away from the area you and Fushiguro were standing in right now.

“If you don’t want to listen to me, I ain’t going to listen to you at all then Fushiguro,” you stated with a frown painted on your face before looking back at the building behind his body.

Taking your katana, you looked at the bottom of the handle to find a metal loop at the bottom with a red charm tied before it was simply slowly unwinded by you as you prepared for the worst that was about to come.

“What are you doing L/N?” Fushiguro asked in a worried tone, causing you to turn to look at him with a deadpan expression.

“Just preparing for the worst Fushiguro”

                                               ꕥ

The rain was still unsettled as you stared at the building of the detention centre that was in front of you with a nonchalant look present on your face. Carefully, you hook your katana on the side of your left hip rather than the usual spot of your back since you knew you were going to need extremely quick access to your weapon if your prediction of what was going to happen was going to become a reality.

Suddenly, there was a swift but noticeable change in the air causing you to grab Fushiguro’s sleeve to pull him closer to you in case of any attacks that would happen since he was standing behind you, out of your central view.

“The Innate Domain’s closed off, the special-grade is dead!” Fushiguro stated to you in a shocked but quiet tone, causing the grip you had on his sleeve to tighten since the feeling in the pit of your stomach was becoming agonising to the point where you wanted to vomit it out.

Yet, you weren’t fearful for yourself but rather the wellbeing of the shikigami user behind you and the classmate, who was still inside the building at this current moment in time.

“We just need Itadori to return safely now,” Fushiguro hopefully whispered, yet you had given no response since you knew that the chance of the mentioned classmate coming back with himself out rather than Sukuna was extremely low.

“That’s almost impossible, from what I can recall, him and Sukuna haven’t even agreed to a bi-” you began to explain, only for a sudden aggressive presence to stop you in your tracks to which Fushiguro also felt as you both froze on the stop you both were standing in right now.

“Sorry, but he’s not coming back”

A familiar voice from behind you spoke leading to both of you and Fushiguro to freeze on the stop before you came to the sense that what you had predicted was proven right. However, you didn’t foresee that he was coming straight to the both of you, even when he had threatened it clearly before Fushiguro dragged you away to search for Kugisaki.

“Don’t be so frightened, I’m in a good mood right now, let’s chat for a bit,” Sukuna calmly mentioned as he processed to make his appearance in front of you both since you refused to look in the opposite direction.

“This is what he gets for trying to use me without any kind of pact, feels like he’s having some trouble switching back,” Sukuna pronounced as he turned to the side.

‘To be honest, it was surprising for him to switch back after eating the finger without the pact’ you thought before letting out of Fushiguro’s sleeve once you was comfortable that he was out of harm's way, ‘besides that should be enough cursed energy for now,’ you internally spoke before taking a quick glance on the same area where you hand was as you processed to place the same hand on the handle of your katana.

“Still, though it’s only a matter of time,” Sukuna stated, as he gripped onto Itadori’s school jacket before unexpectantly ripping into shreds to showcase his muscular upper body, revealing the strange back marking he adorned on his chest.

“So, I thought about what I can do right now,” the King of Curses uttered before raising his hand to suddenly puncture a hole within the middle of his check, shocking both you and Fushiguro from his gruesome action as hints of blood started to pour from the corner of his lips.

‘Shit! I haven’t finished preparing,’ you pondered in a panic manner, as your hand was still on your weapon’s handle, transferring some of your cursed energy to your katana, making sure it had reached to the tip of the blade within the wooden casing for what you were planning to execute.

“Wh-what are you..” Fushiguro stuttered as he looked at the scene in complete horror, only for a massive pool of blood to pour in the middle between Sukuna’s legs before forcibly ripping out the most vital organ needed for Itadori to come back alive.

“I’m taking this brat hostage,” Sukuna declared, as he proudly and sadistically presented the heart he had taken out to you and Fushiguro, causing you to internally become repulsed at the scene since you still needed to concentrate shifting a tiny amount of cursed energy needed to your katana.

“Hostage?!” Fushiguro snarled as he shifted back slightly.

“Yeah, I can live without this, but that ain’t true for the brat,” Sukuna informed you and Fushiguro, as he then tossed the heart to the side like it was a piece of trash he needed to get rid of quickly.

“Switching out with me means he dies. Also, for good measure,” Sukuna mentioned before revealing a finger in his hand causing you to look at the cursed object he had just now swallowed with widened eyes.

‘I thought it wasn’t his finger that the special-grade curse consumed! Fuck!’

“With that, I'm free as a bird, you can be frightened now, I’ll kill you both for no particular reason,” Sukuna declared as he flexed his hand leading you to rapidly unleash your blade from its black wooden casing for the first time since the unfortunate day as you were now prepared to fight against the King of Curses.

“Our positions are reversed now,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath (to which you heard) before he determinedly looked at the curse right in front of him as he positioned himself in a fighting stance causing a wave of anxiety to consume you.

‘One of his divine dogs are already down, if he risks another shikigami, that possibly will also get destroyed in the process’

“You just don’t get it, he’s..Itadori’s coming back even if that means he’ll die, that’s just who he is,” Fushiguro determinedly stated while staring down at Sukuna.

“You give him too much credit, this guy’s just a little tougher and denser than other humans” Sukuna countered back with a smirk on his face before processing to wipe off the blood staining his lip with the back of his hand. 

“Just a moment ago, he was scared out of his mind, on the verge of death and prattling on about his regrets and all that nonsense, I know for a fact he doesn’t have the guts to kill himself,” Sukuna taunted as he smiles smugly at both of you.

‘A special-grade has the ability to used Reserve Cursed Techniques, so it wouldn’t be hard for him to use it on his heart, I just need to slide down somewhere around his chest area to force him to do that’

Shifting your eyes to the side, you noticed Fushiguro’s hands were shaking leading you to internally sigh since you knew he was thinking the same idea as you, while probably debating the fact on how he could make Sukuna revive his heart before Itadori switches back as well as how he was going to battle against a special-grade.

“Should I make the first move then?” you rhetorically asked, before swiftly throwing your katana towards Sukuna like it was a spear, only for him to dough the weapon even at its immense speed.

“You think that was going to hit me?! Maybe you ain’t the fighting type as I suggested!” Sukuna roared in amusement, not noticing how you seemingly suddenly grabbed onto thin air (like you were holding onto a hanging support handle on a bus) before pulling your arm back in a fast motion, resulting in the attacking blade unexpectedly return back to you as quick as it was thrown, for it to then slash a massive slit on Sukuna’s cheek causing the curse to look at you in complete surprised before you swiftly moved forwards towards him, grabbing the handle of the travelling blade to attempt to slash down on your targeted area, only for Sukuna to dodge as quickly as he could.

‘Damn, but that should be fine for now’

However, before you could even attempt to get another chance of getting a slit around his check area, you heard incoming footsteps from your side leading you to deck down as you suddenly saw a leg swing above your head, indicating to you that Fushiguro had made a move to attack the cursed vessel, yet once again Sukuna managed to dodge against as well as the incoming punches that came along with Fushiguro’s attempts.

“Interesting, not only the girl managed to injure me but you use shikigami, but you’ll still come at me yourself?” Sukuna questioned, as he seemed amused at both of you and Fushiguro.

However, before he could mention another word there was a light pressure placed on his right shoulder causing him to turn back, only to find you in a lower stance with your index and middle finger to be pressed upon his shoulder blade.

“Destructive Curse Spell number four: Byakurai,” you chanted, before a high-density of cursed energy was discharged from the tip of your index finger to form a concentrated bolt of lighting leading it to pierce a noticeable hole on Sukuna’s shoulder surprising him as well as Fushiguro, since you angled it well away from him getting hit before you once again attempted to swing your katana down upon his back to execute your plan only for him to dodge it come again.

‘Fuck sake! You make it so easy to hit you the first time but when I want to slice you down, you suddenly dodge it!’

However, before you could use another cursed spell, a shikigami made its way to attack Sukuna leading you to discover it was Nue only for Sukuna to once again avoid the strike of its sharp talons before Fushiguro aims to get a hit at Sukuna, only for the King of Curses to block them with his arms. Yet you couldn’t help but internally smile the second you saw the wrist that you were holding onto earlier had made contact with Sukuan’s arms.

‘If plan A doesn’t work out, B will do just fine for now’

However, your hint of internal happiness quickly ended once you saw Fushiguro take a hit from Sukuna’s fist causing hints of blood to escape from his mouth leading you to quickly stand up straight as you rushed over to the scene. Yet, before you could even attempt to attack the curse again, you felt a presence underneath you causing your body to instinctively move again before a large snake appeared from the ground catching Sukuna within its mouth lifting him in the air as he was stunned with surprise at the fact of his sneak attack.

“Gang up on him!” Fushiguro yelled out to his shikigami, leading Nue’s wings to surround itself with purple lightning as it attempted to land a hit on Sukuna, only for him to duck at the right moment before it tried again, only for it to have the same result.

“Fushiguro, deactivate the snake now before it’s destroyed!” you screamed at your fighting partner. However, before he even got the message you suddenly saw fragments of what seemed to be the snake’s skin falling down in front of you before noticing Sukuna was already behind Fushiguro, tightly gripping onto the back of his dark blue sorcerer jacket.

“Hey, what did I just say? Let’s use the open space!” Sukuna shouted, before aggressively flinging Fushiguro up in the air before following the sorcerer himself, leaving you behind to witness his inhuman strength.

‘Shit, they’re going to get to the edge of the evacuation area!’

Reaching into the depths of your skirt pocket, you quickly pulled out a long, white cloth before letting it spin around you at a large radius as it slowly began to enclose the gaps that were making you visible to the world.

‘Sentan Hakuja,’ you internally chanted before the cloth coiled you complete before speedily teleporting you in front to what seemed to be like a construction site or an abandoning building, you weren’t quite sure. However, what you were sure of was that Fushiguro and Sukuna hadn’t noticed that you had arrived despite the vast entrance you had made from your cursed technique - but what you were most afraid of was the fact the Nue was gone, causing you to worry at the fact that now that shikigami was destroyed.

“What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well,” Sukuna announced, causing Fushiguro to look at the King of Curses in both confusion as well as frustration at the fact he had mentioned you, worried if he was about to get killed, Sukuna would hunt you down next.

“Whatever, either way, that won’t be enough to fix this, you’re risking your life over stupid shit,” Sukuna stated as he pointed the hole on his chest. However, it seemed like you had enough of the conversation.

“Activate!” you yelled out before stabbing your katana to the ground, causing both males to turn around to finally notice you. However, it was too late for Sukuna to have the opportunity to counter what you were doing as he felt something restraining his arm’s movement before noticing what seemed to be a blue web-like strand attached to both his shoulders, yet when he turned to you, you seemed to be in the same situation but with one arm free.

“L/N!” Fushiguro yelled out in a panic before noticing that you were not at all afraid but rather calm despite the situation that you both were in now.

“What is this?” Sukuna questioned, as he observed the web-like structure you had created only for you to glance at him with a deadpan expression on your face.

“It’s just a simple web I created from pure cursed energy that is retaining the both of us right now,” you answered as you continued to peer at the confused King of Curses, who was trying to rip away from the strand-like he had with the shikigami snake, only to no avail as he struggled to move his whole upper body in general.

“How come? You didn’t touch me except for the cursed technique you used?!” Sukuna roared as he glared at you only for you to then let out a sigh of frustration.

‘It’s such a drag to explain…’

“I transferred some of my cursed energy to Fushiguro’s wrist as well as to my katana, so when they made contact with you, it allowed me to connect the strands of the web to those areas where you had been hit, also the protective spell I placed on the back of Itadori’s neck before we went in the detention centre was surprisingly still intact, allowing me to track you and the chain at the end of my katana to restain you further,” you thoroughly explained, before clicking your fingers causing the sudden but slow reveal of the long black chain (attached at the end of your handle - on the metal loop where the red charm was) that you had concealed with your cursed energy to appear surrounding you and Sukuna at a large radius while the extra length was tightly wrapped around his upper body.

“That was how I pulled my katana back at the beginning of the fight if that’s what you were also wondering,” you commented, leading Sukuna to look at you with a larger smirk than what you thought his reaction would have been.

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?” Sukuna asked, before laughing causing you to look at him suspiciously, yet you couldn’t let that bother you at all, right now all you needed was for Itadori to switch back even if he was going to die.

“Even though I technically didn’t save you, Fushiguro did but I would like to give my answer I guess,” you commented before running your hands through your wet hair trying to push away the strands that were concealing your vision slightly. 

“I should have exorcised you back then, in fact it’s my duty as part of the L/N Clan to, but I know you’re a good person at heart Itadori, I knew that since the day I saw you back at school and probably Fushiguro saw that as well when he decided to save you,” you explained with a smile, as you began to notice the markings gradually disappear from his face and body causing you to slowly deactivate the cursed energy web that was immobilising you and Itadori while the chain that was coiled around him slowly began to loosen its grip on him.

“It was for selfish and emotional reasons but that’s fine though,” Fushiguro stated as his posture relaxed once he noticed that you were slowly lowering your guard, “I’m not a hero, I’m a jujutsu sorcerer, so I’ve never once regretted saving you,” he then announced with a smile on his face.

Suddenly, itadori looked at you with a smile on his face before turning to look at Fushiguro, who was behind him. “I see, you really are smart, Fushiguro, Gojo,  you’ve put more thought into this than I have,” Itadori mentioned with a smile, as he pushed his hair back, “I think your conviction’s a proper one, but I don’t think mine is wrong, either,”.

Suddenly, more blood started to drip down from his wound causing you to move forwards to make sure that Itadori didn’t fall down completely. “Oh, sorry, I’m almost done for, guess I won’t have to worry you guys, Kugisaki, or Gojo-sensei, live a long life,” Itadori faintly stated to you both before falling straight into your arms causing you to fall to your knees due to his heavyweight causing your skirt and high-knee socks to become soaked in the rain that already bathed your hair and face.

The rain only grew heavily as seconds went by, only reflecting on the disappointment and devastation that was coming from both you and Fushiguro, as you both stayed silent letting the rain consume you both for the time being.

Maybe after the rain, he might come back.

‘Please come back’

                                               ꕥ

“So you had your suspicions?” you questioned your adopted father, as you leaned against the railing of the balcony, while he stood next to you leaning against the same railing.

“There was a special grade there, sending the first-years to rescue five who may or may not be alive is out of order, even if you are capable of exorcising it Y/N,” Gojo explained causing you to realise where this was going.

“So what you are saying is, since you indefinitely suspended Itadori’s execution, that got some higher-ups upset, leading us to go do that mission, in order for Itadori to be killed?” you suggested, leading Gojo to turn silent at your comment, leading you to get the answer you were expecting even if no words were exchanged.

“You’re strong though Y/N, you effortlessly fought like Sukuna was just a normal curse,” Gojo complimented you, only for you to give him no response since it was not a good time for you to be praised.

You failed at saving Itadori.

“As a special grade like your father, I need you to look out for Megumi and Nobara for a while, train them to the best of your abilities since we got an event coming up!” Gojo cheered, leading you to present him with a glare.

‘What a drag...I really can’t be bothered to be in an event’

“I’m going to check on the others Gojo-sensei, I’ll see you later,” you stated before standing on the feet as you than processed to walk away with your hand up, as a way to wave him ‘goodbye’.

“Call me dad for once Y/N~” Gojo shouted, leading you to groan in annoyance before making your way to the entrance, where you knew Fushiguro and Kugisaki were since Gojo did take you away from them when he found you sitting with them on the stone steps near the entrance of the school.

After some time, you finally managed to reach your destination as you found yourself standing at the top of the extra steps above your classmates, before noticing a few new faces further below, leading you to become perplexed since you weren’t expecting any other sorcerers to come by today - well...that’s what Gojo said.

“Don’t tell me the other student died as well?” the female sorcerer question, leading you to look in her direction in confusion since she seemed a little familiar to you for some reason.

‘Ah, she was the person I saw when I moved into the dorm, but she didn’t really see me’

“I’m right here,” you commented, leading to everyone that was in your view to look up at your direction to find you standing with your arms crossed before you steadily made your way down the steps as you processed to stand a step above between Fushiguro and Kugisaki, who were still seated on the same spot they were in when you had left them for a few minutes.

“You don’t even have a scratch on you,” the female sorcerer commented, as she noticed you didn’t have any patches or bandages like the other two first-years had once you observed you.

“She’s a strong sorcerer,” Fushiguro commented, leading you to kick his back before commenting that he was a strong sorcerer as well.

“Ah! Are you the special grade, Gojo was mentioning about?” the large Panda asked, causing you to give him a glance before answering, “I don’t believe I’m a special-grade sorcerer but if that what my drag ass of an adoptive dad ranked me, then I guess I am,”.

“Who are you guys?” you then asked since it seemed like they had already done their introductions for Kugisaki. Although, it seemed like your female classmate was in the same sort of confusion as you since she noted to you that she had no idea who the fellow sorcerers were.

“Our second-year upperclassmen,” Fushiguro nonchalantly answered before he continued by introducing them to you and Kugisaki.

“Zenin-senpai is the best of all the students at wielding cursed tools, that’s the Cursed Speech user, Inumaki-senpai, he can only speak in ingredients of onigiri and that’s panda senpai,” Fushiguro introduced everyone causing some questions to manifest in your head.

‘Zenin ha?..she doesn’t seem like the one that my mum was talking about, so I don’t have to suspect her but is there anything else to add for Panda-senpai?’

“There’s one more, Okkotsu-senpai, who is the only one I can openly respect, but he’s overseas right now,” Fushiguro added, before slowly standing on his two feet.

“You’re not adding more about the panda named Panda?” Kugisaki asked as she looked up at the shikigami user to gain some information, only to be ignored.

“Man, sorry about this and when you’re in mourning...please forgive us for that,” Panda apologised before placing his hands together as a sign to be forgiven, even though that sign reminded you about something else.

‘Ah...that’s the same hand gesture for one of my cursed spells’

“The truth is, we’d like you to participate in the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event,” Panda explained, causing you to recall about an ‘event’ Gojo had mentioned to you.

“Oh, that’s what he meant,” you whispered before Kugisaki interrupted you by repeating the event’s name in confusion.

“What’s that?” Kugisaki asked as she turned to Fushiguro looking for the answer.

“It’s a get-together with the other Tech school in Kyoto, though isn’t that event mainly second and third-years?” the erratic-haired sorcerer answered your classmate before questioning the invitation since all of you were first-years.

“And those stupid third-years are suspended right now, so you need to participate,” Zenin explained, causing you to look to the side with an annoyed expression on your face since you realised that this meant you had to cover up your tracks more than you were bothered to do.

“What do you do at this event? Smash Bros? I won’t lose if it’s the Wii version, I’ll Meteor Smash so you can’t come back” Kugisaki randomly mentioned with a determined look on her face as she formed a fist, causing you to look in her direction with a confused face since you didn’t know how she came to that conclusion in the first place.

“Then let’s make a 3-man team, the exchange event has the principals of the Tokyo and Kyoto schools each propose a form of competition to be held for an entire day over the course of two days, though that’s how it is on paper,” Panda informed you and Kugasaki, who were oblivious to what this event was in general.

“Every year, the first day is a team battle, and the second day is individual battles,” Panda explained, leading Inumaki to agree with him by saying ‘salmon’ as his confirmation to his classmates' explanation.

“Individual and team battles? We fight?! Against other jujutsu sorcerers?!” Kugisaki shouted after realising what the event really entailed, causing you to look at her before lightly smacking the back of her head.

“You just realised that?” you asked in a dumbfounded tone.

“Yeah, it’s a jujutsu battle where anything but killing goes,” Zenin confirmed with a huge grin causing you internal sigh at the fact that you had to hide the use of your cursed technique since that would blow your cover entirely.

“We’ll train you up well so you won’t get killed. Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Panda declared before he started to throw some air punched after every ‘yeah’ he said.

“Wait, do you have time for that? I thought we were short on jujutsu sorcerers,” Kugisaki asked since she concluded that there were only six of you right now.

“That’s a good question, For now, we are. The glim emotions people harbour from late winter through spring cause an outburst of curses in the early summer, so that’s our busy season,” Panda explained as Zenin then explained that some sorcerers are busy all year long, but since things are settling down soon, it should be fine.

“So, you’ll do it, right? You just had a partner die on you, after all,” Zenin asked, as she was waiting for all your responses.

“We’re in!” Fushiguro and Kugisaki simultaneously answered with determined looks on their faces before turning back to look at you, waiting for your answer.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you knew that you had no way out of this since they looked so motivated for you to join, even if you disagreed with them.

“This is such a drag, but fine, I’ll join in too,” you replied with a small smile on your face leading them to nod at you before turning back to your seniors.

“But if I decided this training and exchange event is pointless, I’m quitting instantly,” Kugisaki mentioned.

“Same here,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to kick both of them on the back much to their surprise.

“So you drags make me do this event, only for you to dip when it’s pointless for you, besides I heard there are some interesting sorcerers in the Kyoto side, so prepare yourselves,” you stated before stepping down the few steps you were in front of before standing between them.

“Well, people this cocky are all more worthwhile to train,” Panda mentioned with his arms folded with a determined look on his face.

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki said in a softer tone.

Looking up to the sky, you couldn’t help but brisk in the sunlight that was shining lightly down upon you, leading you to raise your hand over your face in order to not be blinded.

‘I wonder how I’m going to hide from this one now?’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna #zenin maki #inumaki to/ge #jujutsu kaisen panda #itadori yuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #gojo satoru x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #zenin maki x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #itadori yuji imagines #fushiguro megumi imagines #kugisaki nobara imagines #gojo satoru imagines #ryomen sukuna imagines #zenin maki imagines #inumaki to/ge imagines

[dameronology]

can i request from your agnst song lyrics list 1) "i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you" - the night we met, lord huron? maybe from nat’s perspective bc she lost reader please? 🥺

of course!! i hope u enjoy <3 this came out in a weird format but ?? we move

natasha romanoff + ""i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you"

Natasha could count the five occasions on her right hand during which she knew she was going to lose you. As each one passed, she could tell that you were slipping away bit by bit; at first, it was just a little. A tiny bit of distance, but something you could bounce back from. Then it became a deeper and deeper divide, until she'd passed the point of no return and lost you completely. The worst part was that she knew it was happening. She was fully aware that you were slipping through her fingers and she had done nothing to stop. There was only one person to blame, and Nat knew who it was.

The first time she knew was when she'd missed an important dinner date - a cliche, really. It had happened to everyone at some point or another but this one? It had been a particularly important one. A big PR night for the Avengers, where she'd promised to be by your side and help put on a united front. You'd set a reminder on her phone, written it on the calendar in her office, and even sent her a final text on the big day. Then her meeting had overran, and she had a conference call, and four hours later, the realisation hit her like a truck. She'd forgotten. She'd taken on too much work and let you down.

"I am so sorry!" Nat burst in the room, fiery hair all over the place. She had quickly come in a rush, and her less than subtle entrance only brought more embarrassment to the warmth on your cheeks. "I was working, and I lost track of time-"

"- you had one job, Natasha," you hissed. Standing up from the dinner table, you awkwardly moved over to her and shoved a glass of champagne in her hands. "You said you had booked the day off weeks ago."

"There isn't a day off when you're an Avenger," she softly reminded you. But, the presence of Bucky, Steve, Tony, Peter and literally every other fucking super-hero in New York told you other-wise.

"Yeah, I know," you murmured. "C'mon, let's just sit down."

"I really am sorry, honey," Nat pushed.

"I know," you repeated. "Just...be on your best behaviour for the rest of the evening."

You'd written it off as a blip; so what if Natasha had made a mistake? Despite all her prior accomplishments, she was a human being. Work was important to her and you totally got that. It was important to you as well, and you had always supported each other.

More than anything, you were just grateful it had been a work related incident than anything. The first few months of your relationship had been plagued with Nat pushing you away and consistently shutting you out - it had taken a long time for her to open up to you, and even longer for her to trust you. You were glad whatever argument had come her mess-up hadn't been her doing the same all over again.

Or so you'd hoped - because the second time she felt you slipping away? It was a little more serious.

"Natasha," you sighed, "you need to tell me these things."

"It's nothing, I promise," she murmured.

"A gunshot wound isn't nothing!" you countered. "The worst part is that I found out about it from Bucky's Snapchat story."

She frowned. "Bucky has Snapchat?"

"Yeah, he meant to to send it to Steve, but accidentally posted it publicly instead," you gave a derivative snort. "But that aside, you can't keep things like that from me. I thought we didn't have secrets. Nat."

"We don't, sweetheart," Nat replied. "I just didn't want to scare you."

"You scared me more by not telling me," you shot back. "Just...please tell me next time? Don't keep me out the loop."

She forced a smile. "I won't."

But she did.

So much so, in fact, that you found yourself almost losing Natasha completely. She would no longer tell you about where she was going on missions, or when she would be back - it was all just a giant question mark. And not that dissimilar from how it had been at the beginning of your relationship. She'd been secretive, then; keeping you out the loop and not opening up when she clearly experienced something traumatic.

You'd always been there for her, but you didn't want to force it either. You were just hyperaware that you were the only person you spoke too, and if she stopped talking to you? That meant she was bottling it all up. That was never healthy.

"Steve said there were deaths," you called after Natasha, helplessly following her through your shared apartment. "Five men down, Nat, and you don't even want to talk about it a little?"

"I'm not good at talking," Nat muttered. She stalked through to the bedroom, throwing her go-bag into the back of the wardrobe. "Don't force me."

You stopped in your tracks. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just...I don't want you to bottle it up, y'know? That's not good for you. I guess I'm just letting you know that the offer is there."

"Thank you," Nat forced a smile. Again. "I appreciate it."

"I also don't want you to shut me out," you continued. "I've been through that with you before and I don't want to do it again. It almost killed both of us."

"Hey, I'm sorry," her face fell, and she softly reached out, pulling you into a hug. "I won't shut you out. I promise."

Natasha managed to break both of her promises; the one about keeping you in the loop, the one about not shutting you out.

It came naturally to her, you see. She was a solitary person; raised by design to be self-sufficient and to not let anyone in. At the Red Room, finding support in others had been a sign of weakness and try as she might, Natasha couldn't shake the habits that were engrained into her brain. She wanted to - for you, she really did - but it was hard.

It didn't take long for things to come to a head. You weren't an idiot; you knew when Natasha was icing you out. It had hurt too much the first time round and there was no guarantee that you'd have it in you to see it through a second time. You figured that space might be good - not a break up, but just some time apart.

"Natasha, we need to talk."

She hated the words as soon as they left your mouth - so did you. There was never a good conversation that started with we need to talk. It was always either a separation or an ultimatum, and you were too tired for the latter. Proposing a break seemed like the best thing for you both.

Nat frowned. "What's up?"

"I won't beat around the bush," you began. "I think we should take some time apart."

You could see Natasha's face fall instantly, but she couldn't deny it that it hadn't come as a shock. Something - a trial separation, a break-up, an argument - had been brewing for a while. She was just good at dancing around it.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you admitted. "We're both tired and it feels like we're slipping back towards how things used to be."

"You're right," she agreed. "I'm sorry. You know I love you, right?"

You smiled. "I know - I figured you could use the time to work out what you want. See if you wanna talk to someone professionally, or if you just want to...y'know."

"Know what?"

"If you want to break-up permanently," you finished the sentence with a wobble in your voice. "Ball's in your court, Nat."

The ball was in her court - and she basically let it deflate.

Because for Natasha, emotions were scary. You'd left the apartment with a promise between you that she would be the one to make the final call.

A month and I'll call you, is she what she had said.

A month and I'll call you, is she what she had promised.

It was a slow month. You didn't hear from Natasha at all; when you went to collect your mail from the apartment, she was out. She barely showed her face at the office these days and her presence on social media was gone. Her name no longer popped up on the viewers list for your Instagram or Snapchat story. There were no more good morning texts.

Then that slow month turned in a slow five weeks. Then six. Then seven. Then two months had passed, and you hadn't heard a single thing.

Not until a cold Monday evening, when you were holed up in your new apartment watching an old episode of Seinfeld. The presence of your friends, paired with old sitcoms, was the only thing getting you through the Natasha-induced drought. A knock on the door only made it worst.

"One second!" you called.

Throwing your blanket aside, you put down your soup and shuffled over to the front door. Out of habit (one that Nat had taught you), you peered through the peephole - your heart practically stopped when you saw a head of red hair and green eyes. It was unmistakably your Natasha.

"Nat," you greeted her with a cold tone as you opened the door. "Fancy you making an appearance."

"I am so sorry," she began. "I just needed time. I needed time to think-"

"- I gave you a month!" you cut her off. "And I would have given you more if...if you had just asked. If you had just spoken to me, or communicated with me."

"I know," she murmured.

"No, Nat," you firmly said. "I don't think you do. I don't think you know at all - about what you're doing or how you're making me feel."

"I..." she trailed off. "I love you."

"You don't fucking act like it," you snorted. "I could deal with at first - all the miscommunications and random disappearances, but I'm done now."

"I just want one more chance - please?"

"No," you snapped. "You've made your bed. Now lie in it."

And she would; she would lie in it alone.

#asks #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fan fiction #natasha romanoff fic #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #black widow fic #avengers x reader #avengers imagines

[igotathingforvampires]

Alice and the Cheshire Cat - Aro Volturi F!Reader!Telekinetic/Telepathic

This was a bad idea.

Such a bad idea, why in the hell did you let your idiot friends make you follow that damn tourist trap-- emphasis on trap!

Grinding your teeth you glared about the halls of the spectacularly built Italian architecture as the woman who was named Heidi guided the flock of people further-- deeper into the depths.

Your stomach churned.

Something wasn't right.

You glance at your moronic friends-- they aren't even really friends, they're people your mother has sent you with so she can get her fill on whatever hunk she sunk her claws into. They babble on and on senselessly and make you want to clap your hands over your ears. You're not going to die like this.

Fuck that shit.

"Y/N! Look! Omgosh it's so ROMANTIC." Tiffany gushes and giggles with her cronies and gives you a side eye. You're the odd one out-- always has been as she loops her arm through her boy-toy's and saunters further in. But you hang back. Allow yourself to view the entire room and sense the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Suddenly you're shoving your way forward to the girl named Heidi. And stay at the front of the pack. She eyes you curiously. Her head tilting but that smile on her face doesn't wane. I know what you're doing. You think with a glare in your thoughts and shove them into the person in front of you.

She pauses stunned.

You always were one for surprises.

I won't go down easily. I haven't survived what I have to be taken down by you.

The woman's eyes sharpen considerably as the group is led, with you leading head held high to meet your potential executioner. Your sandals click on the floor, you rather thought your outfit of choice was fitting today, a sundress, white and yellow with flowing skirts and long billowing sleeves.

How utterly Gothic Horror.

You didn't know what was going to happen. Didn't know who you were facing, but just knew this would be your last moments in this world.

If only your mother was here to share it.

Your eyes sting at that, the pain from your past coming forward as you shakily take a breath to still your heart beat as best you can. People are moving around the giant domed circle of a room. Vaulted ceilings so beautiful one might weep.

"Ah, our guests are here." A voice calls sounding gleefully mad. Your eyes snap up to the dais, you are just below the first step and your eyebrows draw down sharp and you glare, the three men before you are quite beautiful.

No scratch that.

They ARE and they are terrifying to behold. The one to the left of the center throne eyes you suddenly shifting from whatever stupor he was in, eyes half hooded and radiating pain and sorrow, you almost felt sorry for him aside from the blood red eyes. Dark brown hair cascading to his shoulders, a long face and deep set eyes with high cheekbones.

The one to the right looked gleeful, blond hair, a sinister smile, and a sneer all in one. Avoid at all costs your mind tells you.

And the one in the center-- staring right at you as you peruse your surroundings. He has a frown, ever so slight, his brow furrowed. And then a gleeful smile crosses his face, gaze glittering like rubies.

God fucking damn it you were in a vampire den.

You knew such things existed but kept your mouth shut and your head down.

Well. Might as well get a jab in before they eat you. You meet the man's stare and glare at him, setting your face to one of complete indifference causing him to tilt his head and smirk.

Your Heidi led me down the rabbit hole. And I see you're the Mad Hatter. You send his way across a whisper of thought. Am I to be your Alice or is this where you are given a choice to drink me?

The man's eyes widen only just a moment, you see a shift to your left, a curious expression coming from the taller and sorrowful looking individual.

The one before you clasps his hands together and tries to puzzle you out.

It feels like forever.

Are you going to drain me now or do I get a fighting chance? You feel the pull, the anger within you, that snapping of an elastic band holding all your sorrow and rage and you focus, jerking the vampire in front of you by the lapels of his suit a couple inches.

The raven haired man blinks, and a maniacal grin appears "Magnifico......" he steps down the stairs one at a time, as chaos erupts around you, blood splattering, throats tearing, screams of your friends behind you.

He reaches, offering his hand, and stupidly you take it.

Or is it stupid. You're drawn in despite the calamity around you to those ruby eyes and soft curious look on his face, almost child like wonder as he whisks through your memories at lightning speed. He frowns, at the memories of being alone, the abuse, the torment, learning of your gifts and being tortured for them.

You were the Devils child. Evil incarnate and had to repent for your sins. In fact your mother was sending you to a convent in Italy.

The man's smile grew wide, and you realized this was no Mad Hatter but the Cheshire Cat. Is this where you tell me which road I take?

His whisper through your connection in your mind echos through the never ending rage you carry. "You may call me Aro."

"And is this where you devour me?" Your voice despite yourself shakes.

A smoldering look engulfs you with those red eyes as he leans down to the shell of your ear. "in more than one way Cara Mia."

You had seen enough of Morticia Adams and Gomez to know what that meant.

This thought as he kisses the back of your knuckles makes him giggle a bit like a maniac. "I've waited a long time for you. Tell me. How would you like me to extract justice for you?"

You exhale deeply as he engulfs you in an embrace, "oh please....I think I would like that very much."

"Bene." The word is like the gavel of a judge.

And suddenly, all seems right with the world as you feel a bite and burning sear your entire being.

#aro volturi #twilight saga #volturi

[novaiya]

Liquid Courage - Arthur x Reader

Summary: Confessing your love to Arthur while he's drunk is a great plan, since he wasn’t going to remember it in the morning, right?

Words: 2,632

Warnings: female reader (female pronouns), drunkenness, alcohol

A/N: I finished this entire thing in about a day, new record! Also, I think drunk Arthur would be so cute.

Arthur Morgan didn’t drink often, but when he did, oh boy did he drink. The stoic, collected and calm gunslinger would turn into one of the rowdiest and loudest drunks that could rival the old winos in Annesburg. 

The camp members would be less than happy whenever Arthur would stumble back into camp with a bottle of moonshine in his hands, and a dopey smile on his lips. They knew he was a bad drunk; whenever he was under influence, he would tease any and every one who caught his eyes, and if it got to it, he would start destroying property and generally cause mayhem that he wouldn’t clean up the next day. 

All of that, in addition to many other things that drunk Arthur would do, would make all the camp members scatter, not wanting to deal with him until he sobered up, except you. You didn’t mind Arthur when he was drunk. In some ways, the relationship between you and drunk Arthur was similar to that of a tamer and a lion. You were the only one who could deal with Arthur when he was in that state, which would awe the rest of the camp members.

“How do you do that?” John would say when you drop Arthur on his cot, his eyes already closed and light snores coming out of his mouth.

You wipe down small beads of sweat from your forehead - bringing Arthur from the campfire all the way to his cot wasn’t easy - and turn around to John. 

“To be quite honest with you,” you say, your hands on your hips, “I don’t know. He just let’s me, I guess.”

The main campfire was almost dying down when Arthur stumbled back to camp. Having been paid with a few bottles of moonshine for helping a man catch his horse, Arthur was positively drunk when he hitched his horse to a hitching post, almost falling from it when trying to dismount.

“-who shot Mr.Miller,” Arthur mumbled to himself as he walked through the camp. Everybody was asleep, or at least were till Arthur came, and an annoyed groan could be heard from one of the tents as Arthur passed by. 

You were sitting in your tent, getting ready to go to sleep when you heard Arthur.  As many times before, you got up from your cot to go and help him to his. The two of you never talked about this peculiar routine, mostly because Arthur didn’t remember any of it. Still, you kept doing it because you wanted to and because you cared about Arthur. 

“There she is,” Arthur said as he saw you approach.

“Let’s go, Arthur,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to his cot.

“The prettiest face in the camp,” Arthur slurred.

You shook your head, a smile and a blush appearing on your face. It would be a lie to say Arthur’s words didn’t make your heart flutter, but you reminded yourself that he was drunk, and probably didn’t mean it.

“You know, you’re the best out of the lot of ‘em,” Arthur said as you sat him down on his cot and started helping him take off his coat. 

“Well thank you, Arthur.”

“No, no, I mean it,” Arthur said, motioning around with his hands. “You’re always so kind to me, always taking care of me. I don’t deserve it.” 

It was true. Out of everyone in the camp, you were always the most attentive and caring towards Arthur, even when he wasn’t drunk. You would make sure to save a plate of stew for him while he was away, or patch up the holes in his clothes. You saw how hard he worked for the camp, how much the gang meant to him, and it pained you to see that he wasn’t being appreciated as much as he deserved.

“It’s the least I can do, Arthur,” you said, getting on your knees and helping him pull off his boots.

He grew silent for a moment, trying to put together his thoughts into words, as much as his drunken brain would allow him to.

When you rose up, having successfully gotten off his boots, he said, “Why do you help me, actually?” and tilted his head. 

A small, melancholy smile appeared on your lips. “Well, it’s quite simple actually,” you said and took a small breath, “it’s because I love you.”

Even in his drunken state, the weight of your words hit him like a freight train, and for a moment he felt he was going to fall backwards on the cot. He stammered for a little bit, trying to put together his words, and you just watched, a smile on your lips.

“Yo-you love me?” he said, looking around and then pointing to himself, “Me?”

You laughed and shook your head. “I do, have been for a while, actually. You're a hardworking, honest man. You might be an outlaw, but you have a solid moral compass and you’re sinfully handsome. What’s there not to love?”

At this point, Arthur’s brain has basically fried. He was still processing your confession, and here you were, showering him with compliments and praises. He could feel his head spin, and this time, not due to the alcohol. 

“Why-Why are you telling me this? Only now?”

“Because I know you’ll forget it in the morning.” You bent down, placing a small, light kiss on Arthur’s forehead. He closed his eyes, wanting to savor this moment, but all too soon you retreated. “Get some sleep Arthur,” you said over your back, already walking back to your tent. 

He sat on his cot for a few more minutes, trying to process what just happened. He still felt drunk, maybe even more than before, but your words were loud and clear in his head. Your “I love you” kept repeating in his head as if on a loop. He couldn’t believe someone, especially you, an honest, beautiful, gentle soul, could love him, an outlaw, a killer, a thief. 

He could feel the claws of moonshine pulling him to sleep, and your words once again echoed in his head. You were right when saying that he wouldn’t remember any of this the next morning; he always did forget the alcohol fuled nights. This time, however, he didn’t want to forget the previous night in a moonshine haze, so with the last remains of stamina he had, he pulled out his journal and scribbled away.

The next morning was no different from all the other mornings that followed after a moonshine filled night. Arthur could already feel his head ache and his entire body vibrate. The distinct moonshine taste was still on his lips, and he wanted nothing more than to drink a cup of water or coffee to get rid of it. As he turned around, sitting up on his cot, he saw a fresh cup of coffee on a crate next to him. He quickly grabbed it, downing almost half of it immediately and sighed in relief. His head still ached, but at least the taste of moonshine was gone. 

He tried to piece together last night; one of the few things he remembered was driving on his horse as he drank the moonshine. He faintly remembers entering the camp and stumbling around. He doesn’t remember how he got undressed, or even got in his cot. The last thing he remembered was not an image, but a feeling; an immense feeling of warmth and, dare he say, love. The aforementioned emotion instantly made him think of you, but he pushed that thought away, not allowing himself to even think of you in that context, feeling that he didn’t deserve that privilege. 

He rose up from his cot and stretched his arms. In the distance, he could see Pearson stirring the stew and he felt his stomach grumble. He reached out towards the crate for his hat, put it on and went to get himself breakfast.

The sun was almost set when Arthur got some free time for himself. He was busy for the good part of the day, hunting for provision (Pearson’s stew was almost unbearable in the morning due to the lack of meat), helping Jack with some reading, helping John and Charles work on the old wagon, and just generally doing good deeds around the camp to make up for his drunk shenanigans. 

He, unfortunately, didn’t have much time to talk to you today, and it seemed like you weren’t open for a conversation either. Anytime he walked past you, or tried to strike up a conversation, you would blush (which he found endearing), and stammer over your words. He wondered if maybe he had embarrassed himself in front of you last night, or said something he shouldn’t have. The thought that he might’ve spoiled whatever it is he had with you put a great damper on him; he hoped that when he was done for the day, he could maybe ask you what he did last night, and apologize for it.

The reason for your sudden shyness was, of course, the fact that you told him you loved him. In the moment, you didn’t think it through too much, simply wanting to finally voice your feelings that you’ve been hiding for months. Arthur was drunk, so you thought you were safe from the repercussions of your confession, since he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. When woken up the next morning, however, you realized what you did and were stricken with horror at your boldness. You couldn’t believe you’ve actually said that, and were now anxious whether Arthur remembered it or not, and if he did, what he would think.

Arthur pulled out his journal as he sat on his cot, wanting to write down a general summary of day as he usually did. As he opened his journal on the last written page, a confused expression painted his face. The writing on the page was distorted and almost undecipherable, but it was his own. “she loves yu, y luky bastrd, she said erself”. Suddenly, as if in an apparition, images of last night flooded his brain. He remembered you helping him to his cot, helping him get undressed, saying you love him, kissing his forehead. For a moment, he thought that maybe it were the remains of alcohol playing tricks with his mind, but something told me that all of that actually happened. He quickly shut his journal, putting it back in his satchel, and got up from his cot to go and find you.

He found you sitting on the outskirts of camp, looking out into the distance and enjoying the sunset. You didn’t hear him arrive, only noticing his presence when he came up next to you and sat down.

“Beautiful scenery, ain’t it,” he said, looking at where you were looking. 

“Sure is,” you said, your voice small. You could feel your cheeks heat up once again. 

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Arthur said. “I don’t remember much of it, so, sorry if I did anything stupid.”

You mentally breathed a sigh of relief at his words, somewhat calmed seeing as he didn’t remember last night or your words. “Don’t worry about it, happens to the best of us.”

“So, what happened last night?”

“Oh, nothing really, I just helped you to your cot and left you to it,” you said, waving with your hand. “You weren’t as bad as other times.”

Arthur laughed and said, “Is that so?” After a few moments he added, “So, that’s all that happened last night?” 

A hint of panic crossed your mind, but you quickly squashed it down and said, “Yup, that’s all.”

A small smirk played on Arthur’s lips as he looked out into the distance. He could feel your nervousness in every word you said, could practically feel you squirming with anxiety. He, of course, already knew everything he needed to know about last night, but the opportunity to tease you just a little bit was too good to pass up on.

He turned his head around to look at you and said, “Something tells me you’re not telling me everything.” Both his voice and eyes were dangerous, but it only drew you to him more. 

“That’s not true,” you said as you looked into his eyes, feeling mesmerized by them.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You should know better than to lie to me.”

You weren’t sure what you were talking about anymore, and you didn’t care. You felt like a prey under his intense gaze, and you wanted nothing more than to be devoured by him. 

One of his hands reached out and cradled your cheek. His palm was so big and soft, and in that moment you felt like being held by him forever. He ran his thumb over your lips, the action making you part them. He watched you for a moment before moving towards you. You closed your eyes when he was right in front of you, your lips inches away from each other. For a moment, he teased you, brushing his lips against yours, pulling away a little only to come back a second later. 

“Arthur, please,” you said.

He chuckled softly before finally pressing his lips against yours. They were soft and plump, exactly how you imagined them to be whenever you stole a look at them. It felt as if through this kiss, the two of you were pouring all the emotions you have been bottling up for months.

As one of his hands was still on your cheek, the other made its way to your hip, helping you up and bringing you to his lap. The new position was more comfortable as you placed both of your legs on either side of Arthur’s. Both of his hands were now on your hips, and yours were around his neck, lightly pulling on short strands of hair there.

A light moan escaped your lips, only to be devoured by Arthur’s mouth, when he pushed his tongue in. Your lips moved against each other in a perfect dance, your tongues brushing against each other, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You could’ve swore you heard someone on guard duty make a disgusted noise when they caught the two of you, but neither of you cared. 

The sun has already set when the two of you broke apart, your lips swollen and wet, your eyes hazy with desire. You were far too comfortable in Arthur’s lap to move away, and it seemed that he too liked your current position, his hands still on your hips, gently massaging them. 

One of your hands made its way from his neck to his face, gently placing it on his cheek, running your thumb over a scar on his chin. You never had a chance to completely take in Arthur’s beauty, only stealing glances here and there, scared to be caught, admiring him from afar whenever he wasn’t paying attention. Now, however, you could look for as long as you wanted, and you did, taking in every imperfection that made him him. He too took a moment to appreciate your beauty as well, appreciating every detail such as the shape and color of your eyes, the curve of your lips, the roundness of your cheeks. 

Arthur wasn’t planning on getting drunk anytime soon again, but in that moment, he was thankful to the moonshine, and maybe the fella that gave it to him, for the opportunity that it created.

He reached out with his hand, placing it on your cheek. “Say it again,” he said. 

You smiled, leaning into his palm, and said, “I love you.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption #arthur morgan headcanon #arthur morgan fanfic #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 headcanon #rdr2 imagine #arthur morgan imagine

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Fugitives

Somehow inspired by @chicken0mcnugget and her sister and my sister's more than lovely camping adventure. Somehow, I don't know how. Maybe part 2 if I write it (no promises) will match up to my wild imagination's interpretation of a camping trip. Perhaps, it is a possibility.

Warnings: collapse, passing out, field medicine, blood, gunshot wounds, screaming, gagging roughly for own good, intensive description of possibly gorey wound care, betrayal, some language, going into shock, IV and needles.

~

"Stop," Villain wheezed, sinking to his shaking knees. "I-i need-" cough, "I need help."

Hero stopped running and looked over her shoulder to see Villain half-collapsed on the ground, holding his abdomen.

"We both need help, Villain. Now get up and run. They'll be here soon," Hero trotted back to her nemesis.

"Mmnh," Villain gurgled, his face an eerie shade of pale yellow. He swayed from his kneeling position, keeling sideways, eyes rolling back-

"Oh my gosh," Hero caught Villain as he fell limp into her arms.

"Wake up!" Hero patted Villain's burning cheek repeatedly. "Damn it Villain," she groaned when he didn't wake.

Hero felt at loss. They were running away from authorities in the middle of the woods, exhausted and sore, with no shelter, water, and food in sight.

And now she had an unconscious villain to deal with.

Hero removed the hands placed so precariously on his stomach to reveal a spot of bloodstained fabric. Hero silently cursed to herself and rolled up his shirt.

The sight made her stomach drop. He had not one, but two bullet wounds in his stomach. One was quite deep and bleeding profoundly whereas the other still had the champagne bullet casing, blocking the precious crimson plasma's flow.

He was shot, Hero stressed to herself, trying to figure out what to do. She vaguely remebered a series of gunshots, but Villain promised that he was okay.

And now...

Hero stopped her thoughts suddenly and stood up, cradling Villain tenderly. He was bigger, without a doubt, but between her fitness and touch of super strength, she succeeded.

"I got you," she whispered to the sleeping villain before taking off at a lopsided jog.

"Villain what are you doing here?" Hero asked, approaching the tall, leather-cladden figure.

"Saving you," Villain replied, running to close the distance and grabbing Hero's arm. "Your team, they set you up. We need to go!"

"What are you talking about?" Hero chuckled, easily shaking Villain's hand off.

"They are-"

A click.

A scuffle of feet.

"Well this, my friends, is a win-win," an all too familiar chortle sounded.

Villain spun around, stepping back to stand parallel to Hero's shoulder. His breaths were hitched, proof of his nervous anticipation.

Hero, on the other hand, was mystified by the scene. Her hands trembled as beads of sweat started to form around her amber hair line. Realization flooded into every vein and all she wanted to do was sink to the ground and give up.

They betrayed her.

Her team betrayed her.

Leader stepped into the single light spot in the warehouse. Even though it was mid-day, the shadows made it look like it was night.

"We have our darling Hero here, and her nemesis. Arrest them," Leader ordered.

Villain lunged at Leader, going for his neck. More scuffles of feet determined that there were more heroes to fight off, but injuring, or killing, Leader would slow them down.

Villain and Leader fell to the ground with a grunt, punching, and hitting, and lashing until Villain was able to smack the golden boy's head against the concrete floor.

Villain discarded his prey and hurried to assist Hero in taking down two muscular, lithe heroes. They were twins, evident in their matching black ponytails.

"You know the pay for your head," one sneered, licking her bloodied lip. "Is more than what I had to pay for my house."

"Hmm," the other laughed. "Not only that, but you are on every 'wanted' billboard in the city."

Hero said nothing, just kept striking punch after punch- most of the time missing.

Then, as if on impulse, Villain grabbed Hero's shoulder and led her to a window. "Hang onto me," He said and closed his eyes.

Then there was a shot... then two... a brief hiss and then they were in the forest...

"Villain are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I promise."

Hero stumbled across an abandoned cabin. A moldy door guarded the entrance and windows were bashed in, but it supplied the dire need for shelter.

Inside, cupboards hung lazily on rusted hinges, creaking as they swayed with the cool draft. A rat-infested couch was hidden in a damp corner with moss growing at the bottom. The only somewhat useful piece of furniture was the metal table in the center.

It was odd to be accompanied by such a modern implement when the rest of the trashy building looked like it belonged in a landfill. Either way, Hero sat on the table, testing its strength. When it passed the test, Hero laid Villain upon it softly and began to inpect the bullet wounds again. The bad one stopped bleeding, but it still looked increasingly painful even though Villain was still unconscious.

Satisfied that Villain wouldn't die, yet, Hero started to search the minimally stocked cupboards. She found a handful of bungee cords, tiny nails as if the former homeowners were into hobby crafts, a mason jar, a metal rod, a various collection a thread, some sort of hemp material, and expired medicines.

She grabbed the nails and thread and walked back to Villain. It was far from ideal to use the nails to stitch, but it was all she had and would have to make do.

Hero tied the thread right under the head, praying that Villain wouldn't get tetanus from the rust particles, and started to sew the larger wound together.

As by some misdeed sent from hell, Villain awoke, screaming like a hungry baby bird. Hero left the nail half-dangling in his flesh and dug her hand into Villain's mouth.

"Shhhh," she cooed. "Someone could be out there. We are apparently fugitives now, remember? Remember the fight?"

It seemed to drain all of Villain's energy, but he nodded. Yet, the second Hero let go of his mouth, he started to curl into himself, whimpering.

"Knock that off," Hero chided and stretched Villain back out. "I need to access that wound."

Villain mewled, but didn't move.

"Okay..." Hero breathed and with a quivering hand, pushed the needle into the ruin skin. Villain hissed, abs flexing, but didn't holler until the head started to pull through Villain's skin.

Oh boy, did he scream. It was like a dying cougar, wild and ragged. Hero, ignoring the wordless pleas for mercy, laced the nail through. It made a small puncture wound, but it had to be done.

"I'm sorry!" Hero rushed over to Villain's head, gathering it into nervously shaking arms that were fueled by adrenaline. Villain's eyes started to glaze over and slip above his eyelids.

She couldn't keep doing this. Every pass, partnered with a screech, and then rushing to comfort Villain would take too much precious time.

Time that could be spent getting as far away as they could from the ravaging heroes.

Thinking briskly, Hero grabbed the metal rod with the tiniest bungee she could find, and appeared again at Villain's head.

"I'm so sorry about this," Hero apologized, and forced the rod into Villain's limply hanging mouth. The villain's eye widened and darted frantically around, searching for the cause of his discomfort.

Hero ignored the obvious signals of distress and pulled Villain's head up. She looped the center of the bungee to one side and then took one strand to do the same on the other. She then attached the hooks together and laid Villain's head down.

A pillow would also be more than ideal. The inevitable thrashing of the head would more likely than not cause some sort of head injury- whether substantial or not.

But Villain would have to do without.

Hero went back to the gaping wound on his stomach and resumed her threading... in... out... in... out...

Everytime, the nail head would have to be roughly pulled through, and everytime more tender skin would rip. Villain thrashed, smacking his head against the unrelenting metal and kicking out with his legs. Hero tried to get by with just sitting on his legs, but the flailing arms also proved to be a problem. She got up, once again leaving the needle haphazardly in the villain's wound, and returned with the hemp fabric.

She tied each wrist and each ankle with the scratchy material, snug. Villain who was resisting the friendly torture immediately fell back into his newfound restraints, sniffing pitifully.

"I'm sorry," Hero tried to reason, but her delirious and exhausted ward was beyond negotiations.

Hero sighed and continued to tend to Villain's wound. Villain pulled back as much as the taut restraints allowed; he bit down against the metal gag until his mouth begun to bleed. Hero winced, concerned that he broke a tooth.

When the first hole was completely stitched up, Hero cut the azure colored thread and strung some more out. She retied it to the nail and set them down against the table.

Hero noticed that the table was beginning to get slick with blood and sweat.

She then examined the bullet. The other one must've fell out when Villain teleported the pair. The dark beige color shone compared to the deep mahogany blood. Hero took two nails out and placed them on both sides of the bullet like chopsticks and tried to use the leverage to launch it.

She succeeded and the bullet just barely brushed against her ear, but the wound began to bleed heavily. Hero groaned and shoved her hand into the bleeding waterfall to staunch it.

Her ears started to ring as her heart pumped faster. Villain's body slumped against the table, his face going pale. Hero gasped for breathing, the wires in her brain not connecting. She didn't know what to do.

She messed things up, now Villain was bleeding out again.

Hero removed one hand and tried to tear a piece of the hunter green shirt she was wearing off; but she couldn't, the cotton material was stubborn.

"Shit," Hero gasped, walls of anxiety closing in around her. The air suddenly felt so heavy as if a furnace was just installed. Her hands trembled, not knowing what to do.

"Think Hero, think," Hero muttered outloud. If she released pressure, Villain would surely bleed out.

Hero leaned all her weight onto the wound. Villain gasped, trying to crawl away. His skin was clammy and unnaturally pale- even more blanch than before. His eyes kept rolling up into his skull before returning to a more neutral place.

His chest heaved in irregular breaths as his stomach convulsed...

He was going into shock.

Hero groaned and grabbed the end of her shirt and brought it to her mouth. She bit it and ripped it all the way to her ribcage. She replaced her sticky hands with the cloth and stuffed it into the wound. It slowed down on bleeding, and the shirt was thick enough to give Hero some time to help with the shock.

She ran to the cupboards and found a bucket. Bringing that over to Villain, she elevated his legs. He was gasping for air now and didn't seem entirely conscious.

She then took off his jeans and laid them over his legs. She remembered learning about shock in her early heroic classes- keep the victim warm and remove restrictive clothing.

She left his rolled up shirt and leather jacket on.

His pulse was insanely weak and too fast as if he was intoxicated. Hero pursed her lips and gently tapped Villain awake.

"Stay awake," she pleaded. "I know it's hard."

Villain lips quivered and he coughed up some thick, starchy liquid.

Blood.

Hero turned Villain to his side and allowed him to spill the scarlet color. All the while, she kept a close eye on the wound. The shirt was nearly drenched.

I could tie a tourniquet, Hero realized and gathered some of the hemp. She deftly wrapped it around Villain's mid torso and pulled it taut.

Stepping back from her work, Hero knew that she had to call someone. A hospital was a no, even with Villain in shock. She could give him a blood transfusion...

If there was adequate IV lines.

Hero rushed to the cupboards once again. It was a long shot, but it was the only thing she could do.

Find an IV line, She told herself- the request was weak though, no one could find an IV in an abandoned cabin.

Find an IV.

And that she did.

Not even wondering what use the prior homeowners had for an IV, Hero inserted the needle in her vein, immediately filled with gratitude for her O type blood and attached the other end into Villain's elbow.

She gave him enough blood until some of his color returned and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

Hero finished stitching the wound. Villain remained sleeping the whole time. She then removed the rod from his mouth and stuffed some more of her shirt on both sides of his mouth where the blood origin was.

Finally, when all the work was done, Hero laid next to Villain and wrapped an arm around his chest. He melted into the comfort, whimpering silently. Hero smiled and closed her eyes, asleep immediately.

She didn't notice the security camera in the corner of the building. The one with the blinking red light.

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #injured villain #whump #whump drabble #unconscious whumpee #my writing #writing #heroes and villains #betrayal #blood tw #field medicine #tw gunshot #collapse #passing out