#gone forever wisteria | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

songofthesibyl · 1 month

Text

Last Flowers

A Tamlin POV set during the events of ACOFAS.

It hit him, the weight of it, as soon as he returned. As if he had never been freed from his curse. As if, upon returning to the Spring Court, his heart had calcified. As if it had been happening this whole time. As if he had never been cursed at all. Perhaps he hadn’t. Maybe the whole thing had been another one of his delusions. He had dreamed the last few hundred years. He had laid down in the dirt, and closed his eyes, and the earth had taken him.

And there had been stars under his eyelids, pricking through, willing him to open them. To life, to the new. He was held safely within, only the stars could come through. And when he finally opened his eyes, it was night, and he expected it to last forever. But he would never be in a place that was so stagnant, so stifling, again. He woke up, and he was high above, he breathed in the fresh mountain air, the sun was rising over the peaks. The world minuscule below him. Glittering like the stars, thousands of tiny fae lights. And stars raining from above, that he could catch in his hand. They were everywhere, surrounding him, he had gone into the pool, he was swimming amongst stars, forever. Not drowning—he swam, he flowed, he rose above, he walked out. It was a river, flowing, of many colors, to the sunset, to the sea. A rainbow. A promise that what lay beyond the waves was not Hybern, but only more flowing, more freedom.

He walked, and the night bloomed. There were people in the streets, High Fae and Lesser, and no lesser at all. All mingling, happy. Safely within. He could hear the laughter and sweet words whispered. And the anticipation, walking up stairs, everyone dressed elegantly, shades of blue, and purple, and grey, and glittering jewels. All dressed in their best for her. There was a moment of confusion in the crowd, and panic, that he was alone—but a hand reached out, and he saw the wings, and smiled, and was reassured, and was one of them.

And he took the hand, and joined the others, already waiting in their seats in the front row. And there was a great hush, and she appeared before them in a halo of light, sitting down at her harp, and singing. His mother. He looked around. Everyone was transfixed. And her song was joyous. A joy reflected in the crowd. They cheered, and clapped, and wept for being moved. And she was bashful, and humble, and beckoned with her hand for him to join her on stage. And he looked up to her, in awe, and wonder. But rose from his seat, and reached out.

In the morning, the lilacs began to brown, and shrink from him. The leaves paper-thin, and crumbling. The scent was gone. He heard no birds chirping in the trees.

The light had come to him then, wreathed in night. Obscured. He had not recognized it. But for the red hair, and the scar, and the eye of gold. The sun in his eye. And he had pushed him away, and hissed, and bit. Over and over and over. Until the sun bled, pouring down his chin.

And the petals of the sweet alyssum had fallen to the earth. It had been heavy on him, the petals weighing him down until his eyelids drooped, and finally closed.

And there was laughter again, and vases of sunflowers, and a zinnia tied to his buttonhole. Papers spread out on a table, and the table was round, and they were all there, Bron, and Hart, and Andras, and the sentries, one by one sitting at the table. And he stood, waiting for Lucien to sit first, and then sitting himself. And there was no head of the table, no bigger or smaller chairs. And he looked around. Alis was there too, and the villagers, it was all of them, his entire Court, and they laughed, and drank, and shared poems. It went on and on, ever-expanding, never-fading.

And then the irises had wilted. And the wisteria. The sweet pea. Snapdragon and foxglove and hyacinth. All drooping, heavy. The peonies had fallen to the ground. And no summer flowers replacing them. No moonflowers, or lilies. No sunflowers or aster.

No Autumn.

It was a changing of his Court, finally a movement, an evolution. But no fruits on the vines, or the boughs. Everything was retreating. Fading from him.

Insubstantial as a dream. Where the moonflowers opened, and tuberose, and jasmine, their scents overwhelming, until they closed at the break of day, and the morning glory replaced them. And there were colors, a rainbow of them, streaming across the sky, filling the halls of his manor, that was empty now. Blank as a primed canvas. And the every-color attached itself in abstract forms swiped across, filled in as blocks, free of form, only feeling, emotion. It was a sort of freedom that burst through the floors, splitting the black marble, the jagged gold lines bleeding, the windows and the doors opening out, and the colors running back. And the stagnancy was gone, a refreshing breeze swept through, and everything smelled of paint.

And he woke, and everything was shut in again, and it stank of must and mildew and dust and rot. And an energy was in him, the rebellious agitation of Spring, and he tore through the manor, shattering windows, and slashing doors, his fiddle in splinters against the walls, the canvases all torn. Except hers. But the smell, and the rot, remained. The stagnancy of standing water, and the smell of bacteria building.

The blight spread quickly after that. He went outside, and there was no more drooping, no more yellow-and-browning. Soon, only the rose garden was left. Roses always lasted so late in the year, in the Courts that weren’t fixed. They held on here, too, as if hoping he would last. Clinging to the last bit of life in him. Willing him to come back. But then, finally, relenting. There was nothing to nourish them. He could nourish nothing with his hands, awkward as they were, clumsy as paws. He could not caress, or coax, and encourage the blossom, the bulb, the briar. Petals fell, leaves curled at his touch. Recoiling from it, instinctively. It all fell away.

And he realized, finally, that he wanted it to. He no longer lamented, or resisted it. Let it come finally, the blight.

Let it come for him.

After Rhysand left, he gathered the rest. Somehow, he did not tear through them. Lucien’s favorite handkerchief, pressed flowers. Letters from his mother, scented of cinnamon. Jackets, and shirts—when Lucien had sought him out after the meeting of humans and fae, he had said he had had no other clothes. He had had nowhere else to go.

His eye had burned, the fire in it coming through, flickering, and rising, and fading again. He had been in so much pain.

And he had hurt him. He could still feel the impact of his fists on his face, and Lucien egging him on, pushing him to go further. To just do it already. And he did, and there was blood running down his chin. He had put his hand to his face, and saw the blood on it, and had looked at him, wide-eyed.

And he had told him to leave.

Get out, he had said. Please. Get out.

And he had. But then he kept coming back, and trying, like the roses lingering that bloom well into the Autumn, and even into Winter. And so he had plucked them out, torn them from their roots. Rhysand had helped him to see—

Everything you touch you destroy.

And he let go, and the blossoms scattered on the wind, blowing south.

And then it was all gone. The yellow roses, and the white, and red. The eglantine, pink with a gold eye. The green turned to brown, and then black. The thorns curled round, and covered him, and sank into his flesh. And dragged him down. He would never escape.

It had all been a dream. And he had woken up, and seen what he truly was. So had everyone else. They had fled from him. He had only dreamed that they hadn’t. He had just seen it, that was it—the blood, and the brain matter leaking out of their ears. His mother’s severed head. Rhysand staring at him, full of fury, yet doing nothing. Knowing it was better this way.

There was still smoke in his eyes, and the scent of burnt flesh. He had torn through the manor, and raged, and raged, and he was so tired now. He walked, shedding each layer like petals falling—his bandolier, his boots, his tunic. Everything, until there were only antlers, and fangs, and claws. Fur, and paws tearing up the earth. And he sank down, and curled himself up, and went to sleep a monstrous beast.

@tamlinweek 2024 Day Six: Dreams

#tamlin week 2024 #tamlin #acotar #tamlin week

17 notes · View notes

sodamors · 9 months

Text

consequences

sekido attempts a leap to freedom.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. this fic is bad, don’t read it if you aren’t comfortable.

hantengu clones pet au. you can read the context/background here.

this might be part of a series of works, which covers sekido’s fight for an escape. literally just bad feels all around.

not beta read.

—

nowadays, the guards didn’t even bother closing his cage. they saw him too weak and frail, busted from all his rounds in the ring, groggy from continuous wisteria shots. and they weren’t wrong. sekido could barely move, so even if the gate was wide open, all he could do was stare.

useless. he’ll remember the times he spat at his counterparts. inefficient, lazy, weak. and now he was no better than them, no matter how much he bared his fangs.

but if there was one good thing left about him, it would be that he remembers. faces, voices, scents, everything. he knows exactly which guard comes over, who was lazy and didn’t lock the gate, who was strict and prodded him if he breathed too loudly. and he remembers them all — their stupid, pouty, human faces tore a bubbling rage through him. but the familiar fury was somewhat comforting. he prided himself for his resolve. besides, it was all he has left.

a sharp, ringing bell resounding through his dark cage meant only one thing. bettors were present, and they wanted to see him fight.

it was more of wanting to see him lose; lose miserably, in particular. having been tossed little to no food for months on end, sekido could barely move, much less get his bda to activate. he’d get pummelled, face first on the ground, whimpering pathetically as his opponent’s vile claws and fangs ravage his flesh. he could never fight back, or even get a hold of himself. old wounds would split open, and new ones make their stinging mark.

but no matter how much he was beat up, eyes glazed over, breathing erratic, he would always catch a glimpse of the bettors. chuckling in their stupid highchairs, his agony their entertainment. and his rage would erupt again — and so, keeping him barely alive.

the bell dings again, and sekido watches as a guard slides his cage door open. the guard trudges in, catch-pole in hand, hooking the thick loop around sekido’s neck. it digs into his skin, scraping foully against barely-healed bruises, as sekido is dragged out of his cage.

the ring is loud and chaotic. blinding lights beam at the blood-splattered ground, as rambunctious cheers emanate from every corner. bettors and spectators in the encircle the arena, drinks in hand, multicoloured masks concealing their faces.

if sekido could, he would hunt each and every one of them down. using their voice or scent or anything — he would rip, bite, tear them apart. infuriation twisted and boiled inside of him — all they have is a stupid plant, that just so happened to be a demon repellent. what were they so proud of? he growled at the flurrying crowd.

but sekido looks down wearily, eyes on his new opponent. a vaguely familiar pink. he frowns.

upper moon three.

sekido’s confusion rises, but soon subsides. humans had indeed taken over. not even the might of upper moon three could best them.

sekido tugs against the loop round his neck, not wanting to face akaza, not like this. where had honour gone? away for good, perhaps, as the guards yanked brutally at him, forcing out a deplorable whine from his lips.

akaza also frowns. “upper four.”

“no need to call us that,” sekido says.

“us?”

fuck. “i mean. me.” sekido clears his throat, and tries to shake away a twinge in his heart. “there’s no point in the kizuki, akaza. it’s all over.”

hearing himself, he realises his voice was hoarse, and throat was parched. clearing it had been useless.

“i know,” akaza says, some form of solemnity in his tone. “weak, cowardly humans, using their plant…”

sekido nods, but eyes the judge cautiously. any moment now, the fight would begin. settling bets took only a while, not forever.

“but i must fight you,” akaza says. gone was the honour and the excitement sekido respected akaza for. “i’m starving. they won’t feed me until i beat you.”

“i know,” sekido replied. “just… beat me up, but make it quick. they’re… they put me in for entertainment. only.”

“oh.”

“yeah. i think it’s starting.” sekido bares his teeth weakly, just for show. maybe he could get food if he excited the crowd enough.

akaza did not make it quick.

the bettors egged him on, waving pieces of irresistible meat in his face. honestly, sekido couldn’t blame him. hunger brought demons to their wildest selves, and upper moon three was no exception. sekido’s left arm had been beaten to a pulp, ripped at the elbow, the rest of the arm gone. bruises and bumps painted his body like the brush strokes of a crazed artist, blotches of red, black and blue, ebbing with his heartbeat. his muscles screamed with exhaustion, an acidic burn overwhelming his senses. it was no help that he was discarded into his cage with no food in tow.

the guard hadn’t locked the gate.

sekido wanted to growl. the pathetic human knowing he’s too weak to move was an insult itself. and again, his old friend — the flames, the burning rage in his chest — swallowed him whole. a rush of adrenaline kicked his senses to a height, a burst of hate-filled power roared in his muscles one last time.

sekido rips himself off the floor, ramming his body on the bars. and they swing right open— he catches himself before a heavy fall, and darts immediately for the stands. move move move move

bettors and dealers flock the area, suddenly erupting into screams when they see him. move move move. sekido trashes the tables, baring his teeth, snarling and snapping at whoever he could claw at. he catches a pudgy man and rips his back to pieces. he grabs ahold a tall lady and rips her to shreds. he cared no more, only listening to the raging, bursting blazes, blinding him with fury.

but all good things come to an end. his neck suddenly stings, and a different fire ripples through him. his body, despite exerting all he had, felt heavy, as though weighed down by hundreds of boulders.

and as he catches a glimpse of the accursed purple dart, sticking out of his neck like a thorn, he collapses to the ground, breathing ragged and vision black.

#sekido #hantengu clones #akaza mention #akaza #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT #dead dove do not eat #demon slayer #angst #kimetsu no yaiba #writing #whump writing #big words in this one #do you know how many times i went to the thesaurus for a synonym of ‘anger’#waaaaa #i might draw this out #i’ll tag more when i remember

44 notes · View notes

xxsycamore · 2 years

Note

Body Worship | Massage + I see you're enjoying my gift + IkeSen Kanetsugu

I haven't seen any Kanetsugu content here on Tumblr, I wanted to know your take on him since his route is not yet out in the EN Version. Heard that Cybird's dropping his route in December in the JP Version.

By the time I got to doing this request Kanetsugu's route has long been a fact, but that would only mean we're one step closer to receiving it in EN! Thank you for this request Mys, it's always a pleasure writing for you ❤ Recalling your style that I'm endlessly fascinated by, I tried to make this fic sound a little more beautiful among other things. I hope you like it!

—𝘛𝘌𝘈 𝘉𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘒

"And thank you, Kanetsugu's arms, for protecting me."

"Mai."

He takes a hold of her, guiding her into his lap. He stares at her sharply, wisteria-colored gaze piecing her like a cupid's arrow. She can keep falling inlove with him forever.

"Thank my lips next."

▍This is 90% tooth-rotting fluff and 10% smut 🥺❤❤ tags: Fluff & Smut; Massage; Body Worship; Blow Jobs; Cock Worship; Established Relationship

Written as a part of VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2021 hosted by me here.

event masterlist

DAY 29 - Body Worship | Massage + “I see that you’re enjoying my gift.”

Mai can imagine what's on the other side of the shoji door before even opening it. Balancing the tray on her hands, she slides it to the side enough to slip inside, and surely enough, like a still image Kanetsugu is exactly where she last left him, brush in hand and hard at work.

"Tea break!" She announces, bubbly but not loud enough to startle him as she sits down opposite him.

Kanetsugu finishes his stroke and greets her, his serious face adopting a softer expression just for her. His eyes look tired.

"I hope I'm not gonna drink my tea alone this time…" Mai half-pouts while pouring each of them a steaming hot cup. It's well into the night so refreshing teas are a no-no, much to her boyfriend's chagrin. The aroma lets Kanetsugu know right away, but he doesn't hesitate taking a nice long sip of liquid relax. He didn't realize how dry his mouth has gotten. The herbs are slowly working his roughed-up nerves relaxed, and it's all written across his face.

"Mhm, that’s better." Mai chuckles, lifting her own cup to her lips, a noticeably smaller sip than Kanetsugu's, because she has something to add. "Hello there, smile I missed."

Kanetsugu lets out a chuckle as well, slightly shaking his head. He didn't realize he was smiling, was that even a smile? No matter how small, Mai would always spot the difference in his expression. And here he thought he'd only indulge her for a cup of tea and get to finish his work afterwards…

"Don't sit so far. Come."

He pats the place next to him twice and Mai all but flies into his arms. It's a little closer than supposed but Kanetsugu doesn't mind. He's only puzzled why she isn't breaking one more barrier by linking their lips already.

"I saw you rubbing your neck when I came in. Do you need a massage?"

Fleeing his arms right away, Kanetsugu opens his mouth to say one thing, and ends up saying another.

"If you will."

Even when she is behind him where he can't see, Kanetsugu all but hears her smile as she places her hands on his nape. He reaches to fix the collar of his robe a little lower for her convenience and she works the newlyfound skin. Her thumbs rub into his tense muscles, pushing and pulling gently until the knots of stiffness are gone one by one. The soft sounds Kanetsugu makes sound like he's enjoying it, and Mai wants to spoil him more. Recently she can't help but worry about him overworking himself. While moving on massaging his shoulders as well - Kanetsugu doesn't mind - her eyes wander around their surroundings while in thought. They stop on the potpourri sachet that she'd given him in the morning. It would appear that he keeps it close even while working.

“I see that you’re enjoying my gift.”

"I do. Thank you once again."

Kanetsugu's voice comes out a bit strained, in the best way, due to Mai's ministrations. She smiles at the thought of him taking a sniff of it every now and then, breaking his working stoicism in exchange for a gulp of air laced with relaxing scents that remind him of her. Does he do it only when she's not around…?

Heart leaping happily, Mai places a kiss on Kanetsugu's exposed nape, sending goosebumps all over.

"Thank you, Kanetsugu's neck for carrying his clever head tirelessly all day."

Kanetsugu scoffs in absurdity but doesn't practically defy her.

"Thank you, Kanetsugu's shoulders for carrying the weight of the whole caste's workload."

"Someone's gotta do it." Kanetsugu says all too proudly, and if up to this moment it was him snorting at Mai, it's now her turn. Still, she doesn't want to ruin the moment. After his shoulders, left and right, she ducks on one of his sides to kiss his arm.

"And thank you, Kanetsugu's arms, for protecting me."

"Mai."

He takes a hold of her, guiding her into his lap. He stares at her sharply, wisteria-colored gaze piecing her like a cupid's arrow. She can keep falling inlove with him forever.

"Thank my lips next."

Her lips curl upwards in disbelief how adorable he could be sometimes. It's a shame he never takes pride in that of all things. She can tease him a little longer for that, or…

Not resisting him a second more, she gives him a kiss full of pent-up affection. No massages or caresses could translate her love better, and Kanetsugu feels it too. He answers back the wordless expression of love by kissing her twice as hard as she does him, grabbing the back of her head and swirling his tongue around hers, caressing it passionately.

They pull back and put their foreheads together.

"Kanetsugu, I want to worship your body."

The breath is caught in his lungs for a second upon that naked confession. God give him the patience to let her have his way with him.

Reading the 'Do whatever you want with me' in his eyes, Mai chuckles and undoes his obi.

"Starting there?"

Fingers burying into his silky white hairlocks, she gives his lips a little peck.

"Starting there."

That concludes tonight's paperwork managing. Kanetsugu finds out about all the gratitude little Mai has hidden in the depths of her heart, some of which he didn't foresee. Among the strong hips that maneuvers him atop his battle horse, and the thighs that make a surprisingly good lap-pillow, Kanetsugu is puzzled how she decides which ones to judge according to intimate situations and which not. There is one part of him, however, that raises no doubt.

"Thank you, Kanetsugu's cock, for pleasing me so well."

Kanetsugu rolls his eyes in a should-have-expected-it fashion, but is not displeased with what he heard. He has a hitch it's the last thing he'll hear from her in awhile and he already misses her sweet voice and playful words when her mouth wraps around his length.

"You're giving me ideas for later, Mai…"

Lashes fluttering at him in question that she already think the answer of, she withdraws until only the tip of his cock is in her mouth and rubs it flat against her tongue with the help of her hands until her mouth falls open along it.

"You're going to copy me?" She asks.

"No." Kanetsugu says in an even tone, "I'm going to worship you with my tongue alone."

Blushing at the mere thought of it, Mai forgets her own shamelessness in her acts. With wetness pooling on her underwear, she takes Kanetsugu's member in her mouth again, determined to please him for as long as she can before he turns the tables on her.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thehappycat123 @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @theuwuisunreal @ravenarld @kyokirigiri-22 @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @trishtori @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @fun-ghoul-neela @salty-fed-up-bitch @coornn @cilokgoang @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @cilokgoang Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku Kanetsugu #Kanetsugu Naoe #Ikesen kanetsugu #ikesen smut #ikesen fanfiction #ikemen sengoku smut #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #VISIONSOFTEMPTATION2021 #ikemen sengoku

104 notes · View notes

brainbuffering · 1 year

Text

12 Days of Manga 2022

Day 8: Top 3 Seinen

1) Hiraeth - The End of the Journey by Yuhki Kamatani from Kodansha (T: Leah Surgent L: Salud Campos Blasco E: Jesika Brooks)

[ID: English Volume 1 of Hiraeth - The End of The Journey by Yuhki Kamatani. A girl with short brown hair smiles brightly at the viewer. She has a flower crown of morning glories and wisteria (?) in her hair. The montage is also made up of japanese mountains, a 1930s Motorbike with a sidecar, a Shrine Gate, cranes and two other smaller figures: a man in black leather and sunglasses back to back with a person in long white godly robes and long white hair]

“After the death of her best friend, Mika is determined to follow her into the grave. But her suicide attempt introduces her to a world unlike any she's ever seen...full of gods and spirits and entities of which she could never have dreamed. But even with this world of wonder, can she find a way out of her sorrow?”

Yuhki Kamatani has got to be one of the most talented mangaka working in the industry. Their artwork is absolutley stunning, each panel a work of art in its own right, each line necessary to the telling of the story. I was waiting for Kodansha to release the series from Digital Jail before buying it, because I wanted to physically own it as a piece of arwork but alas... digital it remains.

But that does at least mean I can have pages and pages of screenshots saved to my tablet!

The series is a wonderful combination of dark, heartfelt, and hopeful. It’s a journey of three people facing the notion of mortality and what a death wish really is; from the perspective of a god who has accepted that their long time on earth is finally done and is happy for one final jaunt around Japan, an immortal who sees the curse of living forever as painful as the curse of inevitable death, and a suicidal teenager who longs to see her deceased friend once again.

I’m really eager to see how the series ends, and i’m rooting for Mika to finally choose life at the end of all this. It’s difficult as a teenager to be so suddenly faced with the concept of mortality, and seeing Mika tackle that from a suicidal perspective is incredibly moving. Seeing the philosophical elements laid out so beautifully and casually makes for a really fascinating read too, that makes you yourself think of how to aproach the notion of life and death.

Two volumes in, and Kamatani’s perspective is about as clear as you’d expect: Life is complicated, and death even more so. A long life is a good thing that should be saught after, but not at the cost of everything else in it. Kamatani looks at the importance of the connections we make with others, and how people cannot truly be gone as long as we remember them. Perhaps that’s a little cliche, but given how we’re still all in a stage of global grief in the middle of an ongoing pandemic, it’s an important thing to remember.

And as a final reminder, hey, Kodansha! If you ever want to release these books as physical editions I am more than willing to double dip for them!!!

2) Yakuza Fiance: Raise wa Tanin ga Ii by Asuka Konishi from SevenSeas (T: M. Fulcrum A: Sopha Tyrant L: Arbash Mughal E: Abb Lehrke)

[ID: A Japanese high school girl with purple hair and red striking eyes looks over the shoulder of a boy hugging her. She is tugging his shirt down to reveal a large tiger back tattoo. There are red flowers (possibly camillas?) floating around them on a white background.]

“Too Much Love Will Kill You

Yoshino grew up the sheltered yakuza princess of the largest crime family in Osaka, the Somei. Due to her resting bitch face and dangerous family, no man has ever approached her. When her grandfather signs a truce with the Tokyo-based Miyama crime family, he offers her up as a truce bride to the Miyama leader's grandson! Kirishima Miyama is popular, charming, and seems totally normal. But behind his smile is a violent sadomasochist who thirsts for her dominance even more when she impresses him with her moxie! Even though she knows how bad yakuza can be, she's stunned by Miyama's viciousness. She can't turn him down with the East-West peace treaty on the line...so instead she steels herself to play ball!”

Move out of the way Nisekoi, let’s see some yakuza teens in an aranged marriage get absolutely wrecked by the criminal underworld they grew up in!

High Schoolers they might be, but this is no sweetheart romance and I’m really digging it! The art work is really strong, especially the coloured inserts. It’s a very promising first volume and I definetly want to see what fucked up mess this all leads to! There’s far too much happy Yakuza romance going around, let’s see what happens if we actually explore the notion of organised crime.

Now, how does that meme go? “He is definitely a red flag but red’s my favourite colour so what it do baby?” Kirishima’s is definetly not someone I would ever want to be in a relationship with, but boy howdy does he look good covered in someone else’s blood! And Yoshino looks even more beautiful when holding a knife to his throat and threatening to ruin his life if he steps out of line. There are a lot of unhealthy boxes being ticked by this series, so it’s definetly not one for those seeking out wholesome happiness. But not everything has to be “A Sign of Affection” you know!

I’m also facinated by the localisation choices being made in the official translation. Yoshino’s family speaks with an Osakan Dialect, which is usually translated into English media as a Southern American Dialect. However in Yakuza’s Fiance they have opted for a Northern British/Irish Dialect which feels quite refreshing! Why does english localisation always have to be so American? English Localisations are read all over the world, and whilst back in the 00s Australia and New Zealand would sometimes have seperate translations to North America (e.g. Fruits Baskets), that is no longer the case! At times the characterisation can feel a little disjointed with a lack of consitency between phrasing, and I wonder if this is the result of having a seperate translator and adaptor on the series?

If anybody happens to know if Fulcrum and/or Tyrant are on twitter please let me know, I would love to ask them my (polite and engaged) questions!

3) Delicious In Dungeon by Ryoko Kui from Yen Press (T: Taylor Engel L: Abigail Blackman)

[ID: English Cover for Delicious in Dungeon Vol 1. A human man in a full suit of metal armour holds a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. Behind him, a dwarf with a big black beard, a halfling, and an elf in blue robes cook a giant mushroom on a spit roast. They are in a castle dungeon corridor, a red dragon looks in from the doorway behind them.]

“When young adventurer Laios and his company are attacked and soundly thrashed by a dragon deep in a dungeon, the party loses all its money and provisions...and a member! They're eager to go back and save her, but there is just one problem: If they set out with no food or coin to speak of, they're sure to starve on the way! But Laios comes up with a brilliant idea: ""Let's eat the monsters!"" Slimes, basilisks, and even dragons...none are safe from the appetites of these dungeon-crawling gourmands!”

The most disapointing thing about this manga is that I cannot eat the food they prepare. Seriously, I know that the recipies for living armour are based upon regular crustacians, but that doesn’t mean they ARE crustacians! What does bug jewlery taste like? Does slime taste like bubblegum flavouring? Because it looks like it should...

As a DnD player, I really enjoyed all the references to role playing, especially the chapter with the mimics. Fucking mimics. I’m still angry about the door mimic my DM put me up against and I kept rolling like shit against.

Whilst the focus of the manga is obviously the humour, I’m really enjoying the developing relationships between the characters, and so far all the emotional beats have hit perfectly.

I’ve only read two volumes so far, and I’m not in any desperate rush to read the rest of th series, but I’m definetly going to be keeping my eye out for more in whatever inevitable coin boosts/sales happen so as they happen!

#Seinen #12 days of manga #12 days of manga 2022 #manga #delicious in dungeon #hiraeth the end of the journey #yakuza fiance #Raise wa Tanin ga Ii

48 notes · View notes

succyobsessions · 2 years

Text

My Fav Sapphic Ships + Taylor Swift Songs

1. Dani x Jamie (The Haunting of Bly Manor)

The Lakes— Folklore

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die

I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you”

“I want auroras and sad prose

I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet

'Cause I haven't moved in years

And I want you right here

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground

With no one around to tweet it

While I bathe in cliffside pools

With my calamitous love and insurmountable grief”

“I'm setting off, but not without my muse

No, not without you”

2. Calliope x Juliette (First Kill)

Don’t Blame Me— Reputation

“Don't blame me, love made me crazy

If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right

Lord, save me, my drug is my baby

I'll be usin' for the rest of my life”

“For you, I would cross the line

I would waste my time

I would lose my mind

They say, ‘She's gone too far this time’”

“And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'd beg you on my knees to stay”

3. Shoni—Shelby x Toni (The Wilds)

Wonderland— 1989

“Flashing lights and we

Took a wrong turn and we

Fell down a rabbit hole

You held on tight to me

'Cause nothing's as it seems”

“Didn't they tell us don't rush into things?

Didn't you flash your green eyes at me?

Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?”

“So we went on our way

Too in love to think straight

All alone or so it seemed

But there were strangers watching

And whispers turned to talking

And talking turned to screams”

“We found wonderland

You and I got lost in it

And life was never worse but never better”

4. Emaline x Kate (Everything Sucks!)

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince— Lover

“It's been a long time coming but

It's you and me

That's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, ‘she's a bad, bad girl’ (okay!)”

“It's you and me

There's nothing like this

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay!)

We're so sad, we paint the town blue

Voted most likely to run away

With you”

“And I'll never let you (go)

'Cause I know this is a (fight)

That someday we're gonna (win)”

5. Mae x George (Feel Good)

State Of Grace— Red

“So you were never a saint

And I've loved in shades of wrong

We learn to live with the pain

Mosaic broken hearts

But this love is brave and wild

And I never (never)

Saw you coming

And I'll never (never)

Be the same”

“This is a state of grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game

Unless you play it good and right

These are the hands of fate

You're my Achilles heel

This is the golden age of something good and right and real”

6. Deena x Sam (Fear Street Trilogy)

Dancing With Our Hands Tied— Reputation

“I, I loved you in secret

First sight, yeah, we love without reason”

“I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets

Picture of your face in an invisible locket

You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it

I had a bad feeling”

“I, I loved you in spite of

Deep fears that the world would divide us

So, baby, can we dance

Oh, through an avalanche?

And say, say that we got it

I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted”

“Yeah, we were dancing

Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied

Yeah, we were dancing

(Ooh, we had our hands tied)

And I had a bad feeling

But we were dancing”

7. Idgie x Ruth (Fried Green Tomatoes)

Ivy— Evermore

“Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you”

“What would he do if he found us out?

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

He's gonna burn this house to the ground”

“How's one to know?

I'd live and die for moments that we stole

On begged and borrowed time”

“So yeah, it's a fire

It's a goddamn blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the goddamn fight of my life

And you started it

You started it”

————

Click Here For My Fav MLM Ships + Taylor Swift Songs

63 notes · View notes

lesbiansanemi · 1 year

Text

Blood Brothers

Here's Inosuke's backstory for the roleswap AU that is still being written horrifically out of order... whoops

Other installments: Kyojuro, Shinobu & Kanae, Obanai, Mitsuri, Tengen, Sanemi, Tanjiro & Nezuko

Squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, Aoi sliced the knife across the palm of her hand, and allowed her blood to drip onto the freshly clipped wisteria. She was no stranger to pain, but that didn’t mean she liked it, and she wished Shinobu would come up with a better method of communication between them.

Especially since Kanae died… Even though she wasn’t a demon herself, Aoi thought it would be best for them to be better connected with the loss of their eldest sister. Kanae had saved her life, Kanae had practically raised her, and she… She still couldn’t quite believe she was gone. Demons were so timeless, so ethereal, so other. It had felt impossible for Tamayo and any of her demons to die, but…

Aoi shook her head, and pulled her hand back from the flowers to bandage the cut on her palm. That should be enough blood and wisteria to draw the attention of whichever of her sisters were lurking in the area this new moon. Likely not Shinobu, ever since she became Upper Moon Four, she was always busy, and Kanao often shadowed her. So it would probably be one of the triplets. Checking in on her was pretty much their only duty.

After her cut was cleaned and bandaged, she threw open the shutters, and placed the bloodied wisteria in the window sill.

Now all she had to do was wait for one of her sisters to arrive.

“Aoi!” Two tiny, clawed hands scrabbled at the window sill. “Aoi! It’s me! It’s Sumi!”

Aoi chuckled and hurried to the open window, peering outside to see her little sister, forever too small to see inside the window, even on her tiptoes. “Hello, Sumi! Shinobu’s got you out running errands by yourself tonight, hm?”

Sumi’s smile stretched so wide all four of her eyes crinkled. “Mmhm! She had to go take care of something for Tamayo-sama, and Kanao went with her.”

Aoi crossed her arms and rested them in the window as she leaned out. “No Naho or Kiyo?”

Sumi shook her head. “Kiyo is watching some boring flower drip in the lab for Shinobu, and Naho had plans with Senjuro tonight! Rengoku-san is taking them out to a little festival. He wanted to take all three of us, but me and Kiyo can’t hide our extra eyes yet…” she pouted.

Aoi reached out to ruffle her hair. “Well, maybe you can’t be around other humans yet, but we can have a fun night together. C’mere.” She leaned over, hooked her arms in Sumi’s armpits, and heaved her through the open window.

Sumi giggled and went limp in her hold, letting herself be hauled inside.

As a teenager living in the Infinity Palace, Aoi had never been very strong, always spindly and scrawny, but living out here alone, gathering and farming her own food, she’d eventually packed on enough muscle to easily pick up her little sisters.

“Why’d you leave out wisteria, though?” Sumi asked. “You only do that when you need something!”

“It’s nothing too serious,” Aoi said as she set her down and ushered her to the table, where she’d already made tea, laced with blood and her sisters’ favorite flavors. “Just something I thought was a little odd. I thought Tamayo-sama might want to know about it.”

Sumi squealed as she was handed her tea cup. “No one ever keeps tea back home!” she said. “It’s just blood. Which is good! But it’s not the same as your tea.”

“Well…” Aoi lifted her own, non-blood laced, tea to her lips and took a sip. “You’re always welcome to come for tea any time you want. You don’t only have to come when I leave out the wisteria and blood.”

Sumi shook her head. “Everyone says it’s too dangerous… Especially after—” Her eyes glossed over with tears and she sniffled. “Especially after Kanae… Shinobu doesn’t want to risk any slayers hurting you because they found out you were friendly with demons. We can’t lose another sister. Oh, won’t you just become a demon, Aoi?”

Aoi sighed. That question was the one thing she hated about the younger girls coming by. They just never understood why she refused to turn. Honestly, Shinobu and Kanao didn’t either, but they knew better than to press. Kanae was the only one who had ever seemed to get it. “Oh, you know, Sumi!” she laughed with a wave of her hand. “I’m just not interested. And I’ve been dodging slayers for a decade now. There’s a reason I live out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Sumi’s shoulders slumped, but she didn’t argue; by now, she seemed to have learned better. “Okay then… What was the odd thing? To tell Tamayo-sama about?”

“Ah…” Aoi straightened up, and pointed in a vague direction to her left. “There’s a mountain several miles that way. Recently, slayers have started investigating it, but none of them ever come back down. I thought there might be a demon there worth looking into, if they’re killing slayers. Either they’re someone Tamayo-sama might be interested in, or they need to be dealt with before they start killing innocent people.”

“There’s slayers in the area and you didn’t tell anyone before now!?” Sumi demanded with wide eyes. “What if they hurt you!? What if they—!?”

Aoi hushed her with a soft smile. “I’m human, Sumi. They have no reason to suspect me. I’m just an antisocial hermit living in the woods. If I was in any sort of danger, I would tell you. I’m just suspicious of what’s going on on that mountain. So, do tell Tamayo-sama for me when you go home, please?”

“Okay…”

“Hey, think of it this way.” Aoi set her teacup down. “Once whatever is on that mountain is taken care of, slayers will have no reason to come here anymore. So you’ll be making me safer, okay?”

Slowly, Sumi’s smile returned, and she eagerly returned to her tea, as easily distracted as any child, demon or human. “Okay!”

---

“So…” Aoi fiddled with the hems of her sleeves. “You’re the new Kizuki…?”

Sanemi Shinazugawa narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “And you’re the little human bitch who can summon Kizuki.”

Aoi worried her lip, and did her best not to let her nerves get the better of her. She’d hoped Tamayo would have sent someone she was close with, even if she couldn’t send Shinobu, or at least someone she knew.

She also couldn’t believe someone so… menacing had taken Rengoku’s place as Upper Moon Two. Rengoku might have been overwhelming, but she’d never been scared of him. But this demon already made her skin crawl. “I don’t think—I wasn’t trying to summon you, I just thought Tamayo-sama should know about all the slayers around here!”

Shinazugawa shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll kill ‘em and that’ll be the end of it. Tamayo said there wasn’t a demon on that mountain.”

Aoi grimaced. “But then… Why would there be so many slayers going there? And why are none of them coming back?”

“How the fuck should I know?” he demanded. “Point me in the direction of this mountain, and I’ll figure it out.”

Aoi’s nose scrunched up in displeasure. How old was this man when he’d been turned? His early-twenties? Mid-twenties at the absolute latest. She was older than him. It had been strange, aging and suddenly being older than the people who raised her. Catching up to Shinobu and Kanae’s ages, before surpassing them as she approached her thirtieth birthday. Despite the fact that she was mentally and emotionally older than all of Tamayo’s demons now, it was strange to wrap her head around.

But she’d never met Shinazugawa before now, and didn’t take well to young men being disrespectful for no reason!

“You really should watch your language,” she scolded. “I’m just trying to be helpful, and even if this wasn’t something you wanted to deal with, you shouldn’t take it out on me. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to treat people kindly?”

Shinazugawa blinked, before he bared monstrous fangs and a murderous snarl rumbled from his chest. “Shut the fuck up! Gods above, you’re definitely one of Shinobu’s goddamn brats.”

Aoi took a deep breath and forced out the tension in her shoulders. “Can you please just do as Tamayo-sama asked, and deal with whatever is causing this? Considering how violent you all are, I figured you’d be chomping at the bit to kill some demon slayers.”

Shinazugawa rolled his eyes and turned on his heel. “You gonna help?”

“Absolutely not!” Aoi shook her head. “I refused to become a demon to avoid being involved in mass murdering. And the cannibalism. And being immortal. And dying in the sunlight. Oh, a lot of things really! But the point is, no, I’m not helping you murder people.”

“What, too damn good for murder?” he drawled over his shoulder.

“Obviously not. I’m pointing you in the direction of people to murder. I just never had the stomach for the act itself, which I don’t think is a bad thing.” She turned her palms up. “And you’re about to start walking towards the wrong mountain, by the way.” She turned and pointed north. “It’s that one. Few miles that way.”

Shinazugawa’s snarl rumbled louder, but he turned and marched off in that direction.

“Have fun!” Aoi called after him. “If you don’t want to come tell me what it was, at least have someone else do it! I’m curious!”

Shinazugawa twisted around to throw up a vulgar gesture, and continued on his way.

Aoi huffed. Where did Tamayo find these people? And hadn’t her sisters told her that the new Upper Moon had gotten romantically involved with Kanroji? Oh, she was sure Shinobu adored having him around and sharing her wife with him.

Every time she interacted with someone other than her sisters, Aoi grew more and more relieved that she jumped Tamayo’s ship years ago.

Oh well. Considering it was Upper Moon Two who had been sent, the little slayer problem in her patch of woods would be dealt with quickly.

---

Sanemi grumbled a harsh string of swears beneath his breath as he marched up the damned mountain. Why Tamayo had sent him to deal with this, he didn’t understand. Sure, if he stumbled across any of the slayers that had been cropping up here, that would be wonderful, but if something here was already killing them, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually get the damn chance.

And why Yushiro had sent him to that goddamn Aoi Kanzaki’s stupid-ass garden instead of the damn mountain where the problem was he didn’t fucking understand. Some bullshit about keeping her involved and in the loop because she was important to the Kocho sisters, and oh what-fucking-ever! If she wanted to be involved, she could become a demon and actually live with them.

He didn’t get that woman. When he hadn’t wanted to become a demon, he’d had some actual reasons. Why didn’t Aoi want to be a demon? Just for the sake of being human? Why? She lived alone in the woods, it wasn’t like she was engaged with human society in any meaningful way. He just didn’t fucking get it.

Whatever. It wasn’t a demon on that mountain, but whatever it was, it was killing slayers. So long as Sanemi found something to kill here, he supposed it was worth it. He needed to get back to Mitsuri so they could finish planning the giant wedding she’d insisted upon.

He really should have known better than to say he “didn’t care” about what kind of wedding they had when she asked… Now she and Tengen were putting together something horrifyingly elaborate.

Maybe that was why Tamayo sent him to do this. Maybe she realized he needed a break from it all. Killing someone always helped calm him down, settled his jittering nerves. Maybe he could even bring back something for Mitsuri and Obanai to eat… It might help ease the feeling that he wasn’t doing a well enough job providing for them because he just didn’t know how to help with things like fucking weddings.

A sword rammed its way through his chest.

A nichirin sword rammed its way through his chest.

Sanemi’s eyes blew wide, more from shock than pain. While this blow would kill a human, it was superficial to him. But he should have noticed the slayer approaching. He hadn’t smelled a damn thing, hadn’t heard anything, hadn’t sensed an enemy at all.

And what fucking slayer didn’t go for a decapitation with the element of surprise? Fuck, if they had, Sanemi might have—

No, no, his body was too durable for that. A slayer decapitating him in a single stroke was practically goddamn impossible.

He gasped and whirled around, his clawed fingers wrapping around the throat of the person with the sword and slamming them against the nearest tree trunk.

The person— girl, Sanemi realized, as she wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt, choked as she was smashed against the tree bark and the breath was wrenched out of her.

Sanemi fully intended to snap her damn neck then and there. Something nice and quick but that would still leave the body mostly intact for him to bring home to his fiance. Most slayers he liked dragging it out for, but this one… spooked him, and that couldn’t be allowed.

But he halted, putting just enough pressure on her neck to cut off her airflow and keep her subdued.

There was no way in hell this was a slayer. Never mind that a slayer would have gone for a decapitation, this girl was half fucking feral. The only thing she wore were tattered animal pelts haphazardly wrapped around her hips and waist. Nothing above, leaving her chest completely exposed, and nothing on her lower legs, not even shoes. The only other thing she wore was a goddamn boar’s head.

What the fuck!?

Sanemi loosened his grip, just enough for her to suck in a deep gasp. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded. “Where’d you get nichirin? ‘Cause you’re sure as hell not a slayer.”

She hissed. Hissed. The bitch goddamn hissed at him! A grating noise, mangled, in only the way a human throat could attempt to hiss, but that had clearly been the noise she was going for.

“Hey!” Sanemi gave her throat another threatening squeeze before loosening it again. “I could kill your dumbass right fucking now. Answer me. Who the fuck are you?”

Demented giggles escaped her next. “Name’s Inosuke Hashibira. And I’m King of the Mountain!” she declared.

What? What!?

“...Fucking what…?”

The girl’s hands flew to Sanemi’s wrist, and she sank jagged nails into the skin, ripping and tearing with a fervor befitting an animal rather than a human. When the flesh easily healed, she growled in frustration. Frantic kicks joined the clawing, and she twisted her whole body, going so far as snapping bones out of place in an attempt to escape the grip.

Sanemi narrowed his eyes, and let curiosity get the better of him. He wrenched the boar mask off.

“Hey!” she shrieked.

Oh she was a young girl. Tangled, knotted blue-tipped black hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her face was smeared with dirt and… possibly some dried blood, but that couldn’t distract from how young she appeared. She was probably about Genya’s age.

Sanemi’s hand slipped away from her throat.

Inosuke lunged, sword abandoned as it had slipped out of her grasp while being choked, and attempted to drive her fist into Sanemi’s jaw. He easily sidestepped the blow, and slammed his open palm between her shoulder blades with enough force she crumpled with a pained huff.

“Alright, kiddo.” Sanemi sat down on her back, using his body weight to keep her in place despite her angry squirming. “I just gotta few questions, alright? I don’t hurt kids, and Tamayo would be pissed if I hurt them anyway. So answer me, and we can all get on with our own bullshit, m’kay?”

Inosuke snarled and twisted to claw at Sanemi’s thigh.

He rolled his eyes, and thumped the back of her head. “This isn’t a fight you’re gonna fucking win. Can’t you tell what I am? Or are you just fucking stupid?”

“‘Course I know what you are!” Inosuke shouted, and fuck, did she always yell? “Demon! You’re a demon!”

“Sure am.” Sanemi grabbed a handful of her matted hair. “I’m a Kizuki.”

“The fuck’s that bullshit mean!?”

Great. She didn't even know that much. “It means I’m a powerful demon. The third most powerful demon.” He bared his fangs, and let his smothering, demonic presence wash over the girl. He smothered it more often than not, even out in the wilderness like this, but if she was going to be difficult, he’d show her, exactly, who the fuck she was dealing with.

Inosuke went still, her body going limp as she twisted her neck to stare at Sanemi with wide eyes.

He leaned down, and snapped his jaws.

Inosuke’s nose scrunched up in indignation, but she couldn’t completely disguise the fear in her eyes.

“Right.” Sanemi sat up straight, and stretched his arms above his head. “Just so we’re aware of what’s going on. Now, spill it, kiddo. The fuck is going on? Where’d you get that sword?”

“Some bastard in weird black clothes,” she said, voice sullen. “Killed him and took his sword.”

“You… killed a demon slayer?” Sanemi said, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

“I’ve killed a lot of ‘em!” Inosuke declared, her previous bravado returning. “They’re in my territory, and Mama said not to trust anyone in uniforms like that!”

“You’re the thing killing all these demon slayers?”

“Yeah! ‘Cause I’m just that damn good!” she said with a grin.

Sanemi’s frown deepened. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the kid. (After all, he’d been killing slayers himself at a similar age. It’d been hard, but he managed it). But…

“Where is your mom?” he asked, though considering the sorry state of her ‘clothes’ and the fact that she was alone on a mountain, he thought he already knew the answer.

“Dead,” she said, like it was no big deal. “But she still told me.”

Right. So she was crazy. That was fine. Sanemi had already come to that conclusion anyway. But that didn’t mean that he could leave her out on this mountain killing slayers in good conscience. Eventually, the Corps would send those of higher rank, or more than she could handle at a time, and she’d get herself killed.

And fuck, as heartless as he was, Sanemi couldn’t handle any more dead kids on his conscience. Definitely not dead kids because of slayers.

“They’re gonna send more of them and then you’re gonna get your stupid-ass killed,” Sanemi said. “Stop killing them. Hell, leave this mountain.”

“Nuh uh!” Inosuke vehemently shook her head. “I’ve lived on this mountain my whole life! It’s my territory! They can leave!”

“Kid—”

“Fuck you! I’m not leaving!”

“Kid—”

“Mama brought me here! She said this would be a good place for me! I’m not leaving!” she shrieked. “I’m not! I’ll kill all the stupid—Whatever they were! Demon slayers! I’ll kill them all!”

Sanemi groaned and pressed his hands to his face. Was this what he had sounded like as a teenager just after his family had died? Shit, probably.

“I’m not leaving my mountain!” she continued. “She said to stay here! She said it was safe from them! She said to never let them get me!”

Sanemi grimaced. Had her mother been killed by slayers? That seemed the most likely scenario. “They kill her? Your mom?”

“I don’t—I dunno…” Inosuke admitted as her head thumped against the ground. “It was forever ago. But sometimes I hear her voice! And she tells me things!”

Not just crazy. Fucking insane.

But she certainly believed her dead mom was telling her shit about demon slayers and dropped her off on this mountain.

None of that changed that she needed to get the fuck out of here or she was going to get herself killed.

“Alright.” Sanemi reached his hand down, preparing to grab her and just have Yushiro send them somewhere far away from this mountain and she could figure her own shit out after that (after all, if she’d really been living out here her whole life, survival clearly wasn’t a problem) when she sank her teeth into his hand.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He ripped his hand out of her teeth, leaving blood smeared on her lips. “Shit! Fuck! Do not swallow that! Spit it out! Spit it out!”

Inosuke made a grand show of swallowing the blood in her mouth, throwing her head back and gulping it down. Then she cackled, “Fuck you! Don’t tell me what to do!”

Sanemi’s mouth dropped open.

Tamayo was going to kill him.

He considered punching Inosuke hard enough in the stomach that she vomited, but did that matter? Demon blood took effect immediately, didn’t it? Fuck, he really should have paid more attention to Shinobu’s annoying-ass rambling!

He scrambled off of Inosuke, and pulled her to her feet—

She convulsed, crying out as she practically collapsed into Sanemi’s chest.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Hey, hey! Kiddo!” Sanemi jostled her as she clung onto him, nails sinking into his skin as she fought for something to hold onto.

He knew this was painful. His own transformation hadn’t been that long ago, and he’d been braced for it, and guided through it by Tamayo. What the fuck was he supposed to do!? This was a kid who accidentally drank his blood! Not anyone prepared for this!

“Don’t touch me!” she growled, as if she wasn't the one clinging onto Sanemi. “It hurts!”

“Fuck, Yushiro!” Sanemi shouted. “Get me home! Now!”

---

Tamayo stared down at the writhing, convulsing child, crying out in pain as her body twisted and remolded itself. As she went through something no child should ever go through.

“Sanemi…” she began, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“I didn’t mean to!” Sanemi began as he held his hands out. It was strange. Tamayo did not think she’d ever seen Sanemi sorry for anything before, seen him worried and upset and fearing being reprimanded. “She fucking bit me! And I—I—”

“You should have been more careful,” Tamayo said gently. “But, there’s nothing that can be done about this now. You turned her, so she is your responsibility.”

“What!?” Sanemi demanded, the usual anger creeping back to his expression. “But I—I don’t know dick about this! Give her to Kyojuro! He likes this kinda shit!”

Tamayo narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t a request, Sanemi. You made a mistake, therefore, you deal with it. You’re not pawning her off onto Kyojuro.”

“But I’ve already got enough shit to deal with with the wedding coming up!” he argued. “You can’t—You can’t saddle me with a fuckin’ kid!”

“I can, and I will,” Tamayo said, letting a growl creep into her words. She didn’t like using her power over her Kizuki, not in this way, but sometimes it became necessary. “You made a mistake. Now you will deal with it. Don’t let her go through this alone. Help her, and then make sure you feed her properly.”

Sanemi turned to stare at Inosuke’s twitching body with wide eyes, and twinges of his fear and uncertainty filtered through their blood link.

“She’s about the same age as your little brother would be, isn’t she?” Tamayo asked as she laid a calming hand on Sanemi’s shoulder.

Wordlessly, he nodded.

“Help her,” Tamayo insisted as she gave him a light nudge. “You know how to do this. You were a big brother for years. You’ll be okay.”

Sanemi took a deep breath, stepped forward, kneeled down, and took Inosuke’s hand.

Though she could admit she wasn’t thrilled about this, especially when they had a new demon settling in already with Nezuko’s arrival, she couldn’t help but smile as Sanemi muttered awkward and stilted encouragement.

Maybe this would be good for him.

At the least, it would distract from his stress about the wedding.

---

“Oh, he’s so cute!” Mitsuri squealed as she tossed Inosuke another hunk of flesh, that he tore into with just as much fervor as the other meat he’d been fed. “Once we get him cleaned up, he’ll be absolutely adorable! Oh! Oh my gods! Maybe he’ll grow his hair out and we can have matching braids!”

“I thought… he was a girl,” Sanemi said. “She—He—They? I don’t fuckin’ know, whatever, had… you know, lady tits when we met.”

“Well he doesn’t right now,” Mitsuri said as she passed over another strip of muscle, which Inosuke hungrily tore from her fingers, his newfound fangs shearing through it with ease. “And Inosuke does seem a bit more like a boy’s name.”

“Kinda still has a girl’s face though,” Sanemi said. “That didn’t change.”

Mitsuri shrugged. “Sometimes demons just switch that stuff around when they transform. Kanao decided to be a girl when she transformed. And I think Sabito decided to switch some things around. And Tengen switches back and forth all the time! He’s probably like them. We can ask, when he’s less hungry.”

“I think… he grew up in the woods,” Sanemi said.

“Oh, well then, I’m going to spoil him,” Mitsuri said as she patted Inosuke’s head, eliciting a pleased purr out of him.

He really was lovely! She understood why Sanemi was so twitchy about him, given how unprepared he was to take in a new demon when he was still adjusting to this life himself, but she got the feeling Inosuke would be good for him! He’d do well to have a little brother he could take care of and dote on again.

“I’m going to get him the best clothes,” Mitsuri said as she fed him a kidney, nearly having the tips of her fingers bitten off as she did so. “Maybe some stuff made from furs, like he’s used to! And I’m going to comb the tangles out of his beautiful hair. We can take him hunting with us. Oh! It’ll be just like having a kid!”

The blood drained from Sanemi’s face.

“Oh, dear, not like that!” Mitsuri said with a wild wave of her hand. “You know what I meant!”

Sometimes she wished any of her three partners were interested in children, but she understood why they weren’t. Sure, there were the butterfly triplets, but those were Shinobu’s little sisters, and were largely self-sufficient despite their age. Then again… perhaps it was for the best that none of them wanted kids, considering demons couldn’t exactly have kids and Mitsuri wasn’t quite sure how she would deal with the disappointment of such a thing.

Watching the Uzuis go through it had been difficult enough… she couldn’t imagine living through that herself…

But! That did mean she would take every opportunity she could to spoil any children she came across! And sure, while Inosuke was well into his teens, he was Sanemi’s responsibility, and that made him her responsibility as well! Their wedding might still be months away, and they didn’t plan to initiate their mating bond until then as well, but it was all semantics. Sanemi was her husband already in every sense of the word, they just needed the ceremony to make things official.

So! Inosuke was hers as well! And she would treat him as such!

“I cannot believe I fucked up this badly…” Sanemi moaned as he held his face in his hands. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with him? He’s a fucking batshit feral kid! Am I supposed to take him with me to go mass murdering?”

Mitsuri tilted her head. “Why can’t you?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that kinda shit with kids. I mean, I know my bonding time with Mom was a lot of serial killing, but look how I turned out. Not fucking great,” he said, before waving vaguely in Inosuke’s direction. “I’m gonna fuck him up!”

Mitsuri held her index finger to her chin. “You know… He was already killing slayers, and like you said, grew up on a mountain. I don’t think there’s really anything for you to ruin. This is probably a good place for you to start! Isn’t it, Inosuke?” She leaned down to trail her fingers through the fur crawling down his spine. “You would probably enjoy hunts!”

Inosuke’s head jerked up, the hazy hunger in his eyes finally beginning to fade.

Mitsuri nudged a severed leg towards him, and stood up to press against Sanemi and lace their fingers together. “Dear… I know you’re stressed, but it will be okay. If he really was living all alone on a mountain, honestly, you probably helped him out in the long run. He can have a family here. With us. And he can meet Sen, and Mui, and Shinobu’s sisters, and that new Nezuko girl! So he can have friends his age, too! And I’ll always be here to help out with him. Obanai and Shinobu will, too. And if we really are just having a hard time helping him adjust, we can ask Kyojuro and Tamayo for help. You’re not alone in this.” She stood on her tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to his cheek.

Slowly, the tension began to bleed out of Sanemi’s body.

And well, if Mitsuri used her Blood Demon Art on him to help him calm down, who was going to point that out?

---

“You know, I thought you were gonna fight me a lot more on this shit,” Sanemi said as he marched down the halls of the Infinity Palace, with Inosuke hot on his heels. “You don’t wanna go back to your mountain?”

Inosuke cackled and shoved his shoulder into Sanemi’s, like they’d known each other for years, like Sanemi hadn’t just accidentally turned him into a demon.

Like Genya used to do when they walked together.

“Mama says you’re good, so I’m gonna listen to her,” Inosuke said. “She’s never said someone’s good before.”

Sanemi squeezed his eyes shut. He still didn’t know what the fuck to do about the voices Inosuke supposedly heard. Would it be better to point out they weren’t real? Should he go along with it? How the fuck should he know?

But considering the voice of Inosuke’s dead mother supposedly liked Sanemi was making this easier for everyone, he should just go along with it, at least for now.

Maybe he could ask Tamayo about it later.

“And I like that Mimiko lady!”

“Mitsuri,” Sanemi grumbled. “Her fucking name is Mitsuri.”

“Tinsumi!”

“How the fuck did you get further away fro—You know what, never fucking mind.” One battle at a time. Inosuke’s complete inability to remember anyone’s name wasn’t a priority, and as far as how fucked up demons could get mentally, Sanemi supposed he should take this weird version of memory loss with little complaints.

“Don’t worry, Sanemi!” Inosuke said as he slapped him on the back with enough force Sanemi’s spine cracked, and it seemed teaching him to reign in the demonic strength was first on the docket. “I’ll take care of ya!”

“Take care of me?” he demanded. “This is the other way around!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Inosuke said as he crossed his arms and turned his nose up. “I always take care of my underlings!”

“You are literally under me in the goddamn hierarchy!”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are!” Sanemi hooked his arm around Inosuke’s shoulders and yanked him close, ruffling his hair as he did so, thinking very little about the old actions that came so easily to him. “You stubborn little brat!”

“I’m not a brat!” Inosuke grabbed a fistful of Sanemi’s hair and yanked.

Sanemi snorted with laughter and shoved him away. “Whatever you say, kid. I’ll kick your ass.”

“You can try!”

“I already did!”

“We didn’t finish! I woulda won!”

“What-fucking-ever!”

#kimetsu no yaiba #inosuke hashibira #sanemi shinazugawa #mitsuri kanroji #aoi kanzaki #au: everyone bleeds red #my fics #kaz rambles

8 notes · View notes

catladywriter · 1 year

Text

Inotan Fanfic: Kisses For An Idiot - Chapter 3

Burdens of an Eldest Son

Synopsis: Since that time when Tanjirou first held his hand, Inosuke seemed to have become addicted to hand-holding. He would find any opportunity to hold Tanjirou’s hand as long as it was available. Tanjirou thought he was just nervous without his mask and being constantly around people. But… why’d he start kissing him too?

Main Pairing: Inotan (Inosuke x Tanjirou)

Secondary Pairing: ZenNezu (Zenitsu x Nezuko)

Setting: Canon AU, 2 years after the main story ends

Wordcount: 9,497 across 4 chapters

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Status: Complete. 2nd story in the Series: Where the Wisteria Always Bloom.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The letter was from Tengen, urging Tanjirou to visit him. Lately, Hinatsuru's pregnancy spawned a sudden, intense craving for the Wisteria Garden’s signature tempura soba . The eatery did not do out-of-town deliveries, but Tengen and his wives were their good friends, not customers. Tanjirou saw it as an obligation to travel to their place to cook for them. With the long commute back and forth, he would be gone for at least half a day.

Zenitsu immediately rejected his request to take leave.

“How many bowls of tempura soba are you cooking for them? One? Two? Do you know how many more bowls we can sell in five hours? Who’s going to stand in for you? Do you want Nezuko-chan to injure her hands again? It’s a lousy deal. Reject him!”

Zenitsu was in charge of the accounts. He would get all defensive and business-minded when Tanjirou displayed what he considered to be unnecessary generosity to customers. He rattled off a string of numbers and went on a rant about how Tengen was so inconsiderate and thoughtless.

“He has three wives. Even with one of them out of action, there's more than enough people to do the cooking in his household!” Zenitsu seethed.

Tanjirou knew the fact that Tengen was a ridiculously charming man with three beautiful wives and had tried to gift Zenitsu away as a toilet cleaner would always and forever be a sore point for his friend.

“Our tempura contains a special seasoning and nobody can replicate it. That’s a good thing, isn’t it? No one would eat at our eatery if they can cook it themselves.” Tanjirou reasoned.

To Nezuko, he said, “Your safety must come first. Most of our customers are our neighbours and they’re nice people. If they’re unhappy, leave them to me. I’ll personally apologise to them and cook for them when I’m back.”

When Zenitsu continued to glower at Tanjirou, Nezuko came up beside him and looked at him with beseeching eyes. “Let Nii-chan go, please? Hinatsuru-san is my friend too.”

Zenitsu could never resist when Nezuko said please with those puppy-dog eyes. Just like how Inosuke would give in when Tanjirou pleaded with him for a favour, no matter how much he begrudged it.

“Urrgh! Fine! Be back by today! If you stay over and come back late tomorrow, I’m docking your pay!”

Inosuke had been fiddling with Tengen’s letter, folding and shaping it into a paper boar. Nezuko taught him some origami, and he was getting pretty good at it, even coming up with his own forms. When Tanjirou announced that he was leaving, Inosuke dropped the half-finished boar on the table and seized his hand.

“I’m going with you!”

“No, you are not!” Zenitsu said. “Did you not hear what I said earlier? With you going too, it’s twice the bad deal and we’re extremely short-handed!”

After Tanjirou promised to buy him a local speciality snack from Tengen’s hometown, Inosuke sulkily agreed to stay behind. Tanjirou was sorry to let go of his hand, but he was also relieved. He needed the time away to mull over their relationship.

“You've been going around holding hands and you always seem happy together.”

Nezuko’s voice echoed in his mind.

Happy was an understatement. Tanjirou had held hands with family and close friends. None of them stirred up the range of emotions that he experienced with Inosuke.

The first few times they held hands, nervous flutters filled his stomach. Once he got used to it, it felt natural and nice. Inosuke’s touch filled him with warmth on a cold day, energy when he was tired, and confidence when he was unsure. But the flutters would start again when they were exceptionally close to each other, making him feel nervous and light-headed. Like when they were kissing. Especially when they were kissing.

If he insisted that he didn’t have romantic feelings for Inosuke, he’d be lying. But, as the eldest son, and now the only son, he had always thought that the responsibility fell on him to carry on the family name. Like any other man, he would meet a girl, get married and start a family. He wasn’t in a hurry to do this anytime soon. But he always assumed this was what his future held. So he didn’t dare to entertain other thoughts. But if their feelings for each other were so obvious that Nezuko and Zenitsu could tell, he didn’t know the right thing to do. It was surely selfish to deny Inosuke’s feelings without giving him a say in this.

By the time he arrived at Tengen’s house, he still didn’t have an answer. And there was no time to think about it. As soon as Tengen saw him, he threw an apron over him and rushed him into the kitchen. He had prepared all the ingredients that he thought would be needed when his crow announced that Tanjirou was visiting.

Zenitsu was wrong about how much pregnant women could eat. Hinatsuru ate so much and so fast. If she started saying “umai”, he would have been convinced that Rengoku had possessed her to visit them from the afterlife.

“Will you be fine eating this much?” Tanjirou asked, when Hinatsuru set aside her last bowl, and rubbed her belly contentedly.

“It’s more than what she usually eats, but we’ll just go for a stroll with her so she can walk this off,” Makio said.

“We think she’s having triplets or quadruplets,” Suma explained.

“Thanks for making the trip, Tanjirou, this hit the spot!” Hinatsuru gushed.

After the women left, Tanjirou played with Tengen's toddler son for awhile until he fell asleep, leaving Tengen and Tanijrou to catch up with each other. Tanjirou filled him in on Zenitsu and Nezuko. He told him how Zenitsu was always scared to take their relationship further, and that it was Nezuko who had to initiate hand-holding.

Tengen chortled. “That boy still has a complex huh.”

“Well, you giving him away as a toilet cleaner didn’t help.”

Tengen laughed even harder. “That was so long ago. Does he still remember that?”

“He won’t forget it. He almost wouldn’t let me come here.”

“He’s a fine kid. He should be more confident.”

“He’s loads better now. But he cares a lot about what Nezuko thinks of him, so he’s more cautious when it comes to matters concerning her.”

Tengen nodded. “What about you and Inosuke? You’re what? Seventeen right? Any girls in your life?”

“No, but…” Tanjirou averted his eyes and stared at his own feet.

Could he tell Tengen? Tengen was several years older than him and lived a life of great adventure and misadventure. He had a wealth of experience and open-mindedness when it came to relationships. If anyone could offer advice or lend a sympathetic listening ear, it had to be Tengen. Tanjirou ended up telling him everything.

Tengen leaned forward and listened intently as Tanjirou described Inosuke’s behaviour and his own feelings at length. When Tanjirou had exhausted the topic, he gave an approving chuckle.

“That’s very flamboyant of him, to go around holding your hand and kissing you in front of others. Most people prefer to keep such relationships private.”

“I don’t think he realises that it’s not socially acceptable,” Tanjirou said weakly.

“Listen up.” Tengen’s merry voice turned serious. “People will find all sorts of things unacceptable simply because it’s different from what they’re used to. Don’t let them make you feel like you’ve done anything wrong. You’ve both done far worthier deeds than most people will ever in their lifetime. They don’t have any right to tell you how to live your life.”

“Thanks, Tengen-san. But…”

Tanjirou hesitated and fell silent as he tried to gather his thoughts. He could care less about what other people thought. But if it concerned his family...

“But?”

“Do you ever regret leaving your clan? Or having three wives? I know it’s to ensure you have children to carry on your lineage and your clan chose them for you, but… was that important to you too? Or did you wish that you could have done things differently? I don’t mean to offend and I understand you didn’t have any choice but…”

Tanjirou struggled to string the right words together. He wasn’t trying to cast judgement on Tengen’s clan or his choices. That was all in the past, and they were an extreme outlier. But the desire to fulfil family obligations was something he could relate to.

“No, I understand why you’re asking all this. Give me a moment.” Tengen put a hand on his chin. After a heavy silence, he ventured his opinion.

“I’m lucky that everything turned out fine. I love my three wives, and they get along well. But if I could stand up to my clan and reject my father’s stupid ideals from the start, I’d have done so. If I had a lover, and I was asked to choose between her and non-existent children, I’d pick my lover without question.”

Tengen paused and took a long sip of his tea.

“Remember this, Tanjirou. Nothing is more important than your own life and that of those around you. My father doesn’t view me as a son. He’s as good to me as gone. I never regretted choosing my wives over him. Your family has passed on. You must prioritise your own needs and desires. Do you want children? Or is this something you think you have to do to honour your family and make yourself feel better? It’s your choice to make.”

Tanjirou felt a pang of guilt and pain at the mention of his family. He knew it wasn’t right, but he still blamed himself for failing to save them. And if there was one way, any way, for him to make it up to them, even if they were dead and gone, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“But looking at how you and your sister turned out,” Tengen continued with a wistful smile, “your family must be a lot more pleasant than mine. They’d want you to live your best life on your own terms.”

Tanjirou felt the heavy weight in his heart lighten. In his dreams, his parents and siblings greeted him with the kindest smiles and warmth like a crackling fire in winter. Tengen was right. How could he think any less of them?

Chapter 4

「 ✦ Please support your creators by reblogging ✦ 」

Author Notes: I’ve always felt that Tanjirou’s dedication to societal expectations of the eldest son (and only son 😭) would be the main hurdle for him pursuing a relationship outside what’s considered conventional in olden-day Japan. I’m glad I could have Tengen play the mentor role and resolve this elephant in the room. This way, I avoid inflicting direct angst or conflict between our boys. Poor babies have suffered a lot and they don’t need more pain. Meanwhile, Inosuke is just blissfully ignorant lol. Or is he? 👀

Thank you for reading! If my fic made you smile, it’d really make my day if you could drop a like, reblog, and/or comment to let me know! This story is also on AO3 where you can comment anonymously!

8 notes · View notes

puckrph · 2 years

Text

LYRICS FROM MY OC’S PLAYLIST — PERSEPHONE EDITION

some words/pronouns changed to better reflect percy & make them more applicable to rp. feel free to alter pronouns, etc. as needed

‘ think happy thoughts. ’ ‘ where were you when i was lonesome? ’ ‘ i don’t want to fight the tide. i don’t want to swim forever. ’ ‘ if i falter, let me know. ’ ‘ i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me. ’ ‘ i pictured the look on my stepmother’s face, ready for the bad things to come. ’ ‘ the scene ends badly, as you might imagine, in a cavalcade of anger and fear. ’ ‘ is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me? ’ ‘ i don’t belong. and, my beloved, neither do you. ’ ‘ what should be over burrowed under my skin in heart-stopping waves of hurt. ’ ‘ i want auroras and sad prose. i want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet ‘cause i haven’t moved in years, and i want you right here. ’ ‘ i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back. ’ ‘ they told me all of my cages were mental, so i got wasted like all my potential. ’ ‘ it’s hard to be at a party when i feel like an open wound. ’ ‘ it’s hard to be anywhere these days, when all i want is you. ’ ‘ i just wanted you to know that this is me trying. ’ ‘ i’ll drown my beliefs to have your babies. ’ ‘ just don’t leave. don’t leave. ’ ‘ i’m not living, i’m just killing time. ’ ‘ i want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony, and i want to kiss like my heart is hitting the ground. ’ ‘ i’m not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be. ’ ‘ i’m no better than when i went to sleep. ’ ‘ i know i’m disappointing, so i’m sorry. ’ ‘ the truth is, i need you to tell me i’m worthy of all this great living that i’ve been doing. ’ ‘ i’m frightened to death you’ll forget me. ’ ‘ i want to dance. i want to gaze at the stars. i want to take a picture at the end of the world. ’ ‘ i’m not special. ’ ‘ when i saw you coming, ice and rage in your eyes, i put on my armor and my shield and raised up my sword. ’ ‘ you only meant well? well, of course you did. ’ ‘ no, i don’t believe you. you don’t care a bit. ’ ‘ please don’t say you love me. ’ ‘ one word from you, and i would jump off of this ledge i’m on. tell me “don’t,” so i can crawl back in. ’ ‘ i don’t want to go home yet. ’ ‘ i thought patience led to good. i was just a kid, i did the best i could. ’ ‘ i laid too long with no desire, burned to kindle others’ fire. ’ ‘ you stop the noise. ’ ‘ you can run away with me anytime you want. ’ ‘ maybe i’m an old soul trapped in a young body. ’ ‘ maybe you don’t really want me here at your birthday party. ’ ‘ why am i like this? ’ ‘ i will transcend and vomit this loser out of me. i will become the next big thing. i will light myself on fire. ’ ‘ i’m gonna look good for you, honey. ’ ‘ i know it’s hard enough to love me. ’ ‘ honey, let’s get married. ’ ‘ i don’t want to wake up on my own anymore. ’ ‘ if we don’t leave this town, we might never make it out. ’ ‘ i’m all used up, pretty boy. ’ ‘ you’re the last best thing i’ve got going. ’ ‘ there’s only one place this road ever ends up, and i don’t want to die alone. ’ ‘ let me down gently. ’ ‘ i know i’m unloveable. you don’t have to tell me. ’ ‘ i don’t have much in my life, but take it—it’s yours. ’ ‘ i’m headed somewhere better if i have to crawl there on all fours. ’ ‘ we’ll make it through this year if it kills us outright. ’ ‘ she’s a disgrace to the concept of family. ’ ‘ i won’t join in the procession that’s speaking their piece, using five-dollar words while praising her integrity. just ‘cause she’s gone, it doesn’t change the fact: she was a bastard in life, thus a bastard in death. ’ ‘ i want to believe. instead, i look at the sky and i feel nothing. you know i hate to be alone; i want to be wrong. ’ ‘ you know, i’d stand on the corner, embarrassed with a picket sign, if it meant i would see you when i die. ’ ‘ i want to believe that if i go outside, i’ll see a tractor beam coming to take me where i’m from. i want to go home. ’ ‘ i must admit it: i would marry you in an instant. damn your wife—i’d be your mistress just to have you around. ’ ‘ i can go home, but i’m not going to. ’ ‘ i would do anything you want me to. i would do anything for you. ’ ‘ sometimes, i wonder if i should be medicated. if i would feel better just lightly sedated. ’ ‘ i’m always running from something; i push it back, but it keeps on coming. ’ ‘ being clever never got me very far, because it’s all in my head. “you’re too sensitive,” they said. ’ ‘ there is nothing else that i know how to do, but to open up my arms and give it all to you. ’ ‘ i always wanted to die clean and pretty. ’

#the way this emotionally wrecked me to make shdgfkjsdhf #rp memes #rp meme #rp sentence starters #rp starters #rp prompts

21 notes · View notes

weedseagirl · 1 year

Text

I love purple flowers so much. I wish wisteria bloomed forever but the flowers are already gone now. I wish i could remember how sweet the air smelled when they were around. I am sad today. I don't know what it is. I want something i shouldn't have, but could have. The amount of self control it's taking not to destroy everything i have...

2 notes · View notes

songofthesibyl · 11 months

Text

The Oak and the Holly

A Tamlin POV of chapter 25 of A Court of Thorns and Roses—the Solstice Chapter

It was coming. It had been waxing, steadily, since her arrival. From those whom she could not see, arching necks, whispering, tittering laughter. Bright sparks in the hollowness of eyes, sunk deep beneath masks, for forty-nine years. He had seen it, when she had not. Not visible, not yet. It was still so dark, and so cold, the changes invisible, glamoured, as they were, as he was. No changes at all. The sun only ever rose so high, the air only so warm, flowers never gave way to fruits. And yet, changes all the same. He had gone, often, back to the border. And watched, though time ticked, always in his head, much more than it ever had before, much more than it was ever meant to. Nothing changed here, for five hundred years. Even after Amarantha had taken it for her own. Claimed it, claimed him. Still, it had not changed. The power a halo over his head, golden and glowing. But the sighing of the willow was more plaintive, and less mournful, these weeks. And then so relaxed he had slept, so peacefully, by Feyre’s side. The air was sweet still, wisteria hung like grapes, aprons were heavy with stalks of rhubarb, visions of sweet sauces, juicy and red, weeping over sticky sweetness and puffs of cream and meringue, apple blossoms floating on her tongue.

He had never been so still. Never in his life. Perhaps on a night, with blood on his hands, staring at darkness. Yes, then. The moment stopping time, turning the world, but slightly, off its axis, but the magic righting it, restoring forests of bluebells singing, a faint ripple of a starlit pool. That was all. And then time had started again, the world had lit with gold on his skin, in his eyes, crowning him, forever. Ever-renewed, ever-opening, ever-ripening. Ever-increase. For centuries.

And then a great stillness in his heart. Warmth down his throat, then cold, everywhere. Only the faintest hint of what had been red, and multi-chambered, and pulsing. Yet only a moment, and as the curse took hold, it did not feel so strange. It felt no different at all. And he had realized it, then. How similar, his heart. How cold he had grown. And how still.

He had gone every day to the border. When he had sent his sentries, when he had not. To know it was out there, waiting. Every day, drawing closer. Time ticking away, every day, to the end of it. The sound of it ever present, to replace the beating he no longer heard, no longer felt, in his heart.

The coldness in him.

He had felt it everywhere, and he had gone to the border, where they were waiting, her monsters, and blood on his hands. And the raw flesh of Andras against the frozen earth, and the nakedness of the forest, and the cold in him. Every day, since Feyre had come. But with the surety, with the inevitability of the human world, it came. In fits and starts, and not seen at first, but it rose higher, just a bit, every day, warmer, then the frost returning, capricious and cruel, unpredictable, yes—but not what rose above, higher still, every day. And he watched, and he felt a warmth on him unlike any other, he had let it warm him, exposed thick skin, longer and longer each day, until it penetrated, until it almost reached, further and further, and waxing, higher and higher, until what was inside matched what was outside, and he looked outside, and the human world finally, reflected his. Spring had come.

And they all felt it, they all knew, around him, though he did not see, though he did not know. They had whispered, lips to ears, and sparks in their eyes, and smiles widening like the moon.

The sun would rise soon. And with it, the lie revealed. Because everything would stop again, light suspended in the sky, for one moment, before descending, finally, forever. It was already happening, wings torn from the body, a head in the garden, and blood drip-dripping down, a reminder that Rhysand was here. Everywhere increase, everywhere the sun, but all around, everywhere, at the edges, this shadow looming. He was so close. If he knew, if he knew. If he saw. But the night would be so short, hardly a night at all, it would retreat in the face of the sun. He would stand as the sun stood, in place, triumphant, and no trace of a shadow would remain.

And then.

Every time he had tried to tell her, to even think of speaking the words, in all those months, his throat burned, and dried up, and his breath was taken from him, as if an invisible hand gripped him, as if he were a puppet, at the hands of a daemati. And yet to the border, and the proof of it. He looked at winter woods forever in his room, the sun only ever so high, but on the other side, it was the last day of spring.

He shifted at the sight of it, the inky night watercolors leaking, lightening to red, pink, orange, and yellow. And he finally shook the night off.

Safe, for now. Soon the sun would stop in the sky, and it would be the shortest night.

He tramped along the earth, heavy-footed, close, but as the sun rose, he felt it raising him up, inevitably, against his will, against claws digging in, and the fur dragging the ground, willing time to stop, not wanting the lightness, not wanting to let it into his heart, the warmth, and the light, warming the stone surrounding all he was. Ever since he became High Lord.

It had fit him, really. The moment everything had stopped. He had mourned his mother, and burned the wings, and had wished peace for them, and for his court. Not for himself, ever, but—this stillness, it was a comfort. Everything was in place. He had not wanted it, but it was a fitting punishment, and he accepted it, in that way. The halo above his head, the jewels in his eyes, were chains, and the manor a prison, the echoes of violence always there, as it was on his hands, now. Others had seen it, not him. They had known better. He was not cut out for this. But they could see, not just his waxing power—but that he’d be a good soldier. He would take his orders, he would perform his duty. Hands wanting to grip a bow, not to pull back, not to take life as Feyre had been forced to, but gently, gently, upon the strings. A caress. No. It was a mask, they knew better, they knew what he was, truly, underneath. What he was good at, what his hands were for. What he had been doing all night, echoes of the severed head that had been the reminder. Killing Amarantha’s monsters, one after the other, all night, and now, and forever.

Yet he could still feel Feyre’s lips crushed against his hand. The sting of it, and what had bloomed there. What had taken root.

He breathed in the land, he felt the connection, and yet this lightness, this thinning of skin, of wanting her to, the smoothing of callouses, of the shedding of fur, and fangs, and claws. He had seen it in her too, felt it.

No, no.

It had been easier, he had been able to live with it, with himself, gain his own sense of peace. He had tried to get away, but he had been pulled back to the beating bloody heart of it all the same, had been given his orders, and the male, the High Lord he was meant to be, covered his hands from the first day.

The first thing he had done as high lord was kill. It marked him, forever. Unable to cry out, unable to resist. He had done his duty, done what he was trained for. His whole life. Even now, even Calan Mai, however much the shame and regret ate at him, however much he had tried to brush it off the next day, rudely, horribly, as always. It would enter him, it would work its will, he felt it. She would kiss him, gently, and he would not be used to the touch, only the clawing at him, and the claiming, and he would return it, he would recoil for its softness, and the claws would come out, of their own accord.

He could only be thankful she was human. That there was no possibility of their being mates, however much a part of him was pained at that. Because it would be so much worse. It was already worse, now. He had wondered, if it would be better, easier, if he did not return the love the human female might have for him. If she would indeed manage to love him at all. But if she did, if she would. He wondered what would have been worse, for her, for him. For him to only feel the guilt, and shame, at using a human in this way. Or for him to love her back. To love her even if she didn’t love him at all.

And now he knew, and this was worse. It was so much worse. Not for him, he didn’t matter. But for her. Hours upon hours, fighting monsters, but it was not Rhysand, it was not even the curse, though of course it was that—but it was him. It all stemmed from him, all came from him. He had not wanted it, but it was in his blood, and he had been chosen, and because of him, it would continue. He was the bow, he was the knife, he was the weapon. And he had gained some peace from this. It was what he knew, what he had been trained in, all that was valued in him. And he had used it, to protect his people, his lands, and that was enough. It was all he was, it was everything, and at least he was not hurting anyone unnecessarily. If he took his orders, if he kept still.

But there had always been this thing in him that was greedy. That wanted more. After he had become High Lord, he had hidden himself away, encased himself in his new beast form, as his heart was now in stone. And then Lucien had come over the border to his court, bloody, devastated, a pleading look in his eyes. He had done what he was good at, he had fulfilled his function. And that would have been it, but he could not help it. And Lucien wouldn’t leave him alone. And the good feeling he got, to allow himself that. And how his court had come alive, and Lucien’s laughter. Oh, when he had laughed for the first time again. He wanted that.

When he had made Feyre laugh.

Joy, and peace, and rest.

He had made his court into something—nothing ambitious, he did not care for that, he had none in him. But the sighing of the trees, and this respite, and the celebrations, and the wheel of the year. If it were not a lie, he would take them in, every child who looked from the other side of the wall, desperately, as Lucien had. As so many had, in the past forty-nine years. But the shadows at the edges.

This was what it had led to. He looked at the line below Lucien’s mask as he approached. Not just retaliation, but a warning, a message. A branding, a marking. As he had been marked by her, centuries before, Hybern always at the edges. Always reminding him. This was what he had inherited. That was how he had been chosen. Killers, tyrants, slave owners. His legacy. If Feyre stayed with him, it would be the same, the grasping, the branding, the owning. She would suffer in silence as his mother had, and he would take his place in the bloodline. He had to keep them at a distance, it was better that way, for what was coming, for what had been coming since he was born. Ever increase, but finally, finally, the sun would hit its peak, and then the light would retreat, forever.

But their laughter.

Lucien looked at him warily with the one eye that was still flesh.

“I’m fine,” Tamlin answered his silent question.

“She’s been worried.”

Yes. She cared what happened to him. “Where is she?”

“Getting ready.”

He looked to the horizon. Late afternoon already. He had been practicing for hours. His hands drawing the bow. And the release. All of a sudden, the sounds, the colors, filled in around him. Merry-making, and excitement. Music, and laughter. And real.

“If she wears something other than a tunic and pants it’ll be a miracle.” Lucien paused. “You aren’t wearing your baldric tonight, are you? I imagine it would be difficult to play with it on.”

He sighed, not in the mood for his jokes. “No, Lucien, I’m not.”

Lucien looked him over, his voice becoming deeper. “Can’t we have one day, Tam.”

No. Not even that.

“He doesn’t know,” he went on.

Tamlin had spent all night looking for him, only traces of monsters she had left, more and more, as a reminder. But there had been no sign of Rhysand.

“He was there. He could have seen.”

“But he didn’t.”

No. Because if he had, it would already be over. The shadows, gathering.

“Feyre feels it, you know. It’s obvious, to everyone. I don’t think even you could be blind to it.”

Five days. Five days.

Lucien attempted a smile. There was a spark in his eye that Tamlin knew well.

“I don’t know how it happened.”

Tamlin felt the corners of his mouth go up in anticipation at the tone in his voice, at his look. He walked got up and walked with him, towards the manor. To her.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What?”

“Interesting choice of words.”

He only glanced sidelong at him.

“Just, how the two most humorless people in Prythian managed to find each other.”

He rolled his eyes.

“She’s made a few jokes.” Since she had started to relax. Since she had started to become comfortable.

“And you?”

“I—“

“Unless you deciding to break down her door in your beast form when you first met her was your idea of a joke.”

He crossed his arms as they walked through the doors, Lucien’s laughter echoing through the halls.

“Keep going and I’ll chuck you into another pool.”

Lucien said nothing, only laughed harder. The sound of it. He had not laughed so freely, so loudly, in these halls in a long time.

“She’s changed things,” Lucien said. “Changed you.”

“She’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Not…this.”

He looked at him wryly. “Is this the eloquent speech that charmed a hunter of fae?”

“Oh, well, what is a beast to one with a fox’s tongue?”

Lucien smirked. “You could shape shift into one. Have a fox’s tongue for yourself.”

“I don’t think even at my full power I would be able to manage that.”

“Perhaps not.”

He could never manage to play the games other High Lord’s sons had been taught to play. Only with his tongue held could he continue to lie to her.

“She really is the one.”

Tamlin looked at him, shaking his head of his thoughts. But Lucien was no longer looking at him. Tamlin followed his gaze.

“Cauldron boil me,” Lucien whistled, “you look positively fae.”

The ticking of time stopped for a moment, and there was the phantom of his own heart within the stone trying, desperately, to beat. All of it, the past six months of increase, shining, resplendent, before him. More glowing, more beautiful, than any fae. Not forced, not forever in stasis, not a facade. The crown of daisies, forget-me-nots, and musk-mallow more fitting, more regal than his own, which dimmed in comparison. Her skin glowing not from something fixed upon it, but from within, from someone given the time, and space to heal, to become themselves, with joy, and peace and rest. He could still smell the paint on her.

“You look lovely,” he finally said.

She stood at her full height as she reached the floor, affecting disinterest. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling at her.

“I’m surprised I’m even allowed to participate tonight.”

“Unfortunately for you and your neck,” Lucien said, “tonight’s just a party.”

“Do you lie awake at night to come up with all of your witty replies for the following day?”

The fox’s tongue. He laughed, despite himself, his body working against his mind, going towards her, offering her his arm.

“He’s right,” he told her. Oh, the warmth when she accepted his arm. The feeling of her, solid on the ground, a healthy roundness to her face. The blue dress moving over her curves, increasing steadily, with the light. “Solstice celebrates when the sun outshines the night. As the longest day of the year, it’s a time when everyone can take down their hair and simply enjoy being a faerie—not High Fae or faerie, just us, and nothing else.”

“So there’s singing and dancing and excessive drinking,” Lucien said, coming up behind them to join at Feyre’s other side. “And dallying.”

That grin, again. Just one day. Couldn’t they have just one. Tamlin felt he could, that he could almost break free, by himself, just for the nearness of her, for her heart, that beat so fiercely for them both, for his that had never beat so strongly, even before the curse. He held her more tightly, to feel the pulse of it, that Midsummer magic, even in Spring, that would free him, finally. She wouldn’t need to say it. Just feel it. The warmth, and him, and the pulse that called to her, desperately, pleading, speaking what his tongue could not, even before it was cursed. So loudly, he could hardly hear the music, and the crowds, as they approached, her light outshining the already weakened dark, and the decorations, and the bodies all around, that he growled at, out of instinct, as he let go of her, as their eyes were upon her.

Desperate. Pleading. As he let go of her, as the spell was broken, in the silence that resumed he could hear the crowd.

“I’m going to go get some food,” she called out to him, smiling, barely stepping on the earth. He nodded to her, suddenly feeling very separate from everything.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid,” Lucien said.

“Like you did on Calan Mai?”

He smirked. “If we’re talking about doing stupid things on Calan Mai—“

“I wasn’t in control.”

“And being a dick after?”

“…I apologized.”

“Yes. You did.”

Sparks in his eye, embers from the bonfires all around, as he stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“I do.”

Lucien looked to where Feyre waited in line with the others. She was almost indistinguishable from them now.

“You’re so close. Don’t screw this up.”

He winced. “She’s not…she isn’t some pawn that I’m—“

“No, I—I mean that’s true, too. It is coming. But that’s not what I meant. I mean—don’t screw this up, Tam.”

Lucien searched his eyes, the gold seeing through him, to make sure he understood his meaning. But Tamlin could only see the line down to his chin.

He nodded his head, indicating Feyre. “I thought you were going to look after her.”

Lucien sighed. “She’s already taken so much from you. Don’t let her take this.”

“But it’s a lie, all of this, it—“

“The way Feyre looked at you? The way you looked at her? The people here, tonight? This is real. Feyre doesn’t know…everything, but she knows there is danger. And everyone else.” He tapped his mask. “Every day they look in the mirror. But she doesn’t get to take this.”

He smiled slightly. “Go.”

“Ok, but I better hear you playing.”

“You will.”

Lucien gave him a playful, affectionate look as he walked away.

A daemati. They could take it from him. Take joy, and love. Everything he felt and was. He did not deserve this happiness. And he knew it was, and he felt it. It was so much better, when one didn’t know. He had always stopped before, when he had felt the first stirrings. He had shut himself up, and it had worked. But this time was different. It was the curse, he could not afford to stop—but it was not that, really, it was him. It was his greediness, his clutching. His grip on her arm, his growl of warning. When one knew, when one realized, then there was the fear, and the grasping, and the possessiveness. It was too dangerous, he could not let himself. But he could not help it, he wanted it. Wanted her, but he would take, he was not in control, this grasping, and her nearness, and her lifeblood, and the inside matched the outside, and it was not a lie, he loved her, he loved her. And it would destroy her. It would destroy her. And he could not let it.

In this realization, time stopped. For him, and her, until the light left forever, and the shadows came to claim him, and the oak gave way to the holly, and the night would only get longer, until the sun descended forever.

Just one night. He wanted it. Wanted her. He was wrong to. But one night. Couldn’t he have one night. That she could put down her bow, and he could take up his, and play only, only for her.

He walked noiselessly, lightly, in his fae form, and took his place amongst the others, and felt the echo of her heart in his. No one took note. He was no one, and when he played, he would forget himself. But when he remembered, time would start again, and would tick down, five, four, three, two, one. He couldn’t stop it any longer. He wanted to let go. But he was afraid. He was afraid.

@tamlinweek2023 Day Three: Possessive

#tamlinweek2023 #tamlin #acotar

23 notes · View notes

dapper-nahrwhale · 3 years

Note

The first of asks, 14 19 28 fir your character of choice

(Thxxx so much for the asks! Just know I am gently handing you an entire peeled orange just for you) I'm gonna do all 4 of my main ocs with this cuz why not ok here we go!

14. What smells or tastes do you associate with them?

Casey- the smell of small dasies in the spring they are new and fresh and will not last forever but for now they are sweet and for now you believe they will stay, the scent of rain on the pavement reminds you of home and your heart aches for a time you didn't have to fight with these newly calloused hands and these tired bright eyes and these hopeful faces staring at you and for now you must smile and tell the lies that it will be okay, the taste of sunshine fresh upon your face in this new and exciting place there is so much to look at so much to find so much to discover so much to be, the taste of salty tears as they run rampant down your face you regret ever waking up in that flower field you wish and hope and want only of a home so far away it might as well not exist anymore.

Wisteria- the swift scent of little gardens of windowsill flowers left to wilt in your continued deliberate absence, the smoke of the charred remains of last nights campfire that had been a mistake to light when on the run they will find you quickly and you must fight fast you are tired of running but it's all you know how to do, the taste of honey on your lips coating the swift lies you so very easily tell, the taste of iron so strong on your tongue it burns with the deceit you are so used to it you do not even flinch at it.

Curtis- the scent of death follows you everywheres you cannot escape it no matter how many times you run and run and run it will always follow you, the smell of growth in the newly tilled dirt you have not yet begun to grow but you will eventually one day you will be more you know that now, the taste of decay and nothingness everything tastes like the hollow bones you wish you could have saved, the taste of cucumbers fresh picked they taste much better than they did before when they were rotten and old.

Enmity- the longing scent of your mother's perfume a smell you intricately learned to hate more with every whiff, the scent of old crisp dusty books poured over for hours and hours endlessly searching for the answers you will never find, the taste of liquid gritty stardust that runs through your veins you know you will never be whole you can never fulfill the destiny the stars demand it wasnot supposed to be you they scream, the taste of loss ashy on your tongue it wasnt supposed to be like this not this time next time you will get it right you have to.

19. What would they prefer to do for their birthday? Do they even celebrate it at all?

Casey- if she had a calendar in this odd place maybe, but as it is, she cannot be sure how long has passed and how long will pass enough to tell. She would attempt to bake a little cake and share it with her friends and try to let the small good things last, no matter how temporary it would be.

Curtis- for a long while he did forget that birthdays were a thing people did, then he found reason for celebration again.

Wisteria- ageing along with the years that pass is a foreign concept to the fae, but she finds the birthday rituals fascinating to want one of their own.

Enmity- not anymore now that theres no one to share it with.

28. Is there a place that reminds them of their childhood? is that good bad or bittersweet?

Casey- the grassy flower field she awoke in this realm is not her home. When she thinks of home she is flooded by happy memories now tinged in sadness, she us unsure she will eve be able to go home. It certainly is not in this place, with these magics and these creatures from fairy tales. But she cannot return home, at least not now. There is much to be done, and she has no way of knowing how to get home anyways. But she misses it with all her heart and all her soul does she wish she could leave this fantastical place and just rest. At first, she relished this new and grand and unexpected adventure into this world, but now she just wishes it had been anyone else that had been Chosen instead of her. She does not know what to do who is worth saving who is worth leaving to die she is a child left making the choices adults refused to. They call her their Chosen from the Other world. They say she was brought here because the Prophecies demanded it to be, that she is supposed to be here as their last resort. She never asked for this. All she wishes is to go back to her home off this long gone realm, to go home. This adventure is what steals what vestiges are left from her childhood.

Wisteria- they were never allowed a childhood. She had to be alone. That was just how the pixies were after all, you are born of a flower, you die of a flower, that is how it goes. You will die for this, traitor. They disagreed on that with the fae. She only wanted to get out of this endless war, not be put into another one. They only wished to leave behind that brutal past, to not relive the present.

Curtis- he sees his old family home abandoned and moss overgrown and wild on this once idyllic place (it never was, your nostalgia decives you, it was alway your own personal hell). It hurts too much to think of his childhood taken too short from him, he desperately misses his sister but doesn't believe he deserves to miss her it was all his fault after all who could ever forgive him for that.

Enmity- the now empty palace that held her less lonely childhood is something if a safe haven and a prison all in one. It's the only place she belongs, it's the only place she doesn't want to be. But she cannot leave this palace of the gone and forgotten. She must stay and complete this work, if not for herself then for the stars. All this pain, all these tears, all this suffering will be worth something in the end. It has to be. Otherwise why else would it all happen? The answers are to be found in the stars. They must be. Why would the stars lie to her?

[Ask from here! Send more please!]

#bro thxxx so much for the ask i was gonna make this 10 times longer by adding all 20+ ocs and everything abt them but i refrained and #focused on the main 4 so!!!! yes!!!! loce oc asks ur literally the best oka hhh!!!!!!!!#ask thing #oc ask thing #🐝.asks #gf:ron #gone forever #gone forever: realm of nowhere #long post #cuz this gets looong #gone forever wisteria #gone forever curtis #gone forever casey #gone forever enmity #gf:ron vibes #can you tell i had waaaaay too much fun writing this im not telling yall hey send more asks but wow i love writing this and hey send asks?#🐝.buzz #asks

10 notes · View notes

thunderslumbers · 2 years

Text

Youth || Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Inosuke Hashibira

Warnings: Injuries

Word Count: 599 words

Summary: small moments sometimes turn out to be the most meaningful.

Author's Note: felt nostalgic today, listened to how to be a human being again and this happened.

"Boy, I want you to be happy, Free to run, get dizzy on caffeine, Funny friends that make you laugh, and maybe you're just a little bit dappy." youth, glass animals

Tanjiro Kamado

Night fell upon the wisteria house you two were residing in, the sunset marked a time where everything slowed down.

You could tell Tanjiro was bored, sitting up in his futon and staring at the wall. Nezuko was surprisingly asleep, her energy sapped from a fight.

"Hey, Tanjiro" You had taken out a deck of cards in your haori folded at the end of your futon. Shuffling them with a precision Tanjiro had never seen before. "Wanna play something?"

Before he knew it Tanjiro was playing a game with you, blankets offset from the futon, you laughing when you absolutely swindled him at a pretend-gambling game. He was extremely proud of himself when he beat you (even though you went easy on him)

A playful shine in his eyes and a sly smile when you two settled down. It was during the nth round of go fish when he yawned

As he passed the cards back and went to sleep Tanjiro felt grateful that you had invited him to play. Falling asleep with the same feeling of playful camaraderie he once felt long ago.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

He landed himself in the butterfly mansion again, he'd always manage to get injured during missions.

As he was stuck inside the medical ward you went to pick a multitude of flowers; red, yellow, pink, orange, purple and many more. Unknown to Zenitsu.

To his surprise you returned to him with an armful of flowers, ready to twist them into little rings and crowns. As you finished one up he had asked you to teach him to make one, Of course you obliged.

His first flower crown was kinda wonky, but you wore it with pride, bending down so he could place it on your head. You had placed a few on his head too, making it look more like a wreath of colorful flowers rather than a singular link.

Most of the flowers were gone by the time you two finished up, only stray leaves and pollen on the sterile blanket Zenitsu was under.

You reached for his hand and dragged him out the bed, you two were passing around flower crowns to the other people in the butterfly mansion with giggles and giddy expressions.

Inosuke Hashibira

This time you had to spend time recovering from an injury, turns out landing wrong on one foot can do a lot of damage.

Inosuke waited impatiently, dropping by between his solo missions and pushing you to get better.

Aoi had filled your request for some colored thread, and while on bed rest you made a pair of friendship bracelets, hoping to give one to Inosuke the next time he visited.

"I can't wait to beat you into the dirt (Y/n)!" Inosuke looked excited to see you almost recovered. As he shook his fists you had told him to keep one out, and he did.

He looked at you curiously when you tied the bracelet around his wrist, the ends bobbing up and down with his slight movements. "I made you something, 'nosuke" You had hoped he liked it, because he was oddly quiet

"It makes my wrist feel weird." You could almost see his confused expression under the boar mask. He kept shaking his fist and seeing the threaded bracelet move around "Do you not like it? I can take it off you if you want."

"Hell no! I'm keeping this on forever!" He pumped his fist in the air, and you giggled. Even though it hurt you raised a sore arm up to match him. Inosuke snorted before running off, probably to brag about the bracelet.

#planeto🪐#rené.writing #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro kamado x reader #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #inosuke hashibira #inosuke hashibira x reader #demon slayer #tw.injuries

93 notes · View notes

kimetsu-no-imagines · 3 years

Text

submission request

its ur bf write me rengoku porn rn before i kiss you in electrical- u know what i want 😩 ——————————————————————————- a/n : !!!!!! anything for u babe!!!!! a request from my bf,,,,,,,how special,,,,especially when haven’t written on here in forever,,,,,, warnings ; mugen train spoilers!!!!!!!!!! s o m a n y!!!!!! mentions of rengoku/akaza fight, alternate universe where rengoku lives it’s what we all want anyway, pre-established relationship/rengoku is your husband, breeding/pregnancy kink, rengoku living and dying (figuratively) between your legs, “dirty” talk but rengoku is such a loving man i don’t think it should even be called that here, uhhhh body worship but with his eyes? its very vague but it is there, boy just loves you okay, also none of this is proof read or anything if that matters word count ; 2,728

I’m Home

When you first hear about it, of course, like his fellow pillars, you’re terrified-thankful, naturally, that your husband at least hasn’t died, but the crow sent to inform you of the events of his mission, of his injuries, doesn’t exactly try to sugar coat anything, not even for you, his spouse.

Skull fractures from dodging the punch that would have smashed his eye completely, broken ribs from dodging yet another hit that, if he hadn’t moved back fast enough, would have gone through him and killed him-the details were gruesome, they were bone-chilling, it wasn’t as if you or anyone particularly enjoyed hearing about it, but one thing was for certain-you were relieved not to have lost him to this, to have lost anyone. Tanjiro and the others were so strong, so hard-working, and they were so young, with so much to live for-you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if anything had happened to them, either.

There’s so much about it that pains you-not being able to have your husband home with you after he’d already been so busy with this mission and the ones before it, knowing how injured he was and how long it’d take him to recover at the Butterfly Estate, it was all… Torture. Not that you couldn’t go see him, of course-but Shinobu urged you to stay home and relax, you wouldn’t want to see him in the state that he was in, she promised you that much. Her crow did come by to personally update you on his condition every day or so, though-that was at least some amount of relief.

… Or, it would have been. You hadn’t seen any crow come by in a week or so, to the day-and yes, you kept track, because of course you did, you were an anxious wreck, and it’d already been months of your husband steadily recovering, or so you thought. Had he died from his injuries? Did something happen to the estate, were more people hurt? … Well. You supposed that was a silly thought, she lived so close to the Master’s own residence-no demon could get close enough to hurt them, with all the wisteria around both places.

You were so used to having your husband around to calm you when you thought about the worst things, like this-your heart hurt with anxiety and worry. What could you do but stand outside by the door, every day, for hours, just waiting for some sign, of a crow, of Shinobu herself, of anything?

It was another day that had gone by just like that-your feet and legs ached from keeping yourself up for so long, dried tear trails staining the sides of your face-you knew it was silly of you, you knew you should have tried to be at least a little stronger, for him if no one else, but… You just couldn’t help it. You hated this. You just wanted your husband back.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you watch the sun set for just one more moment before turning to go back inside, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes again-maybe tomorrow you’ll go up to Shinobu’s estate yourself. You couldn’t stand this for another–

“Hahaha! Now isn’t this strange! You’re running away from me!”

Your heart stops, and you freeze in place. What?

You feel him before you can turn to see him-chest pressed against your back, though soon you’re spun around and pulled up into a crushing hug anyway, and it’s all you can do to immediately start sobbing into your husband’s brightly-colored hair as you’re held.

“… Hello, my sweet,” His voice is no longer booming and jovial like it was a moment ago, but soft, gentle and meant only for you, as he squeezes you to him-you want to worry about the injuries he was supposed to be recovering from still, but you don’t want this to end, either. You suppose, he must have just been coming around the corner and through the gate when you turned to go inside-not that it mattered, all that did matter was that he was… Here, holding you.

“You must have missed me terribly!” All hearty, he laughs with you again, even if all you can do is cry in his arms while he rubs soothingly at your back, “But of course I missed you terribly too! I tried many times to sneak out and come home to you, but Shinobu or one of the other girls always caught me-”

You missed his voice dearly, you did-and you were still crying, but you couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. It was something you usually did to quiet him, for sure, but right now you just… Needed him. And he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily and readily sliding down to hoist you up into his arms, never breaking from you as he carried you into your home.

“… Such a beautiful shouldn’t have quite so many tears upon it, you know,”He mumbles gently against your lips, and you sniffle as you finally reach up to start wiping at them, “I-I just missed you so much, Kyojuro, I was so scared-you were almost-you could have-”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t.” He interrupts you sweetly, but firmly nonetheless, shaking his head at you, “I am fine. I am healed, my love. I am still here to fulfill my duties-and I always will be. That includes my duties to you as your husband.”

“I…” It doesn’t feel like you should believe it-after what you’d heard of his battle, knowing he’d even just encountered an Upper Moon demon, this felt too good to be real or true, and yet… There’s such certainty and finality blazing in his eyes as he stares at you, all you can do is nod.

“… Alright.”

———————————————–

… Really, all you had intended to do this evening, now that you had your husband home with you, was cook him his favorite meal and go to sleep with him, in his arms, for the first time in who knew how long, at this point. Truthfully, that had been your only goal. You wanted him to rest, no matter how many times he told you just how fully recovered he was through the mouthfuls of sweet potato you so lovingly prepared for him-and yet… And yet…

Well, you suppose you simply didn’t account for him wanting… Dessert.

“It’s been so long,” The words are mumbled around you, your flesh, as he greedily, really voraciously eats and licks you up from between your legs-you’d already known him to be feral when presented with the sweet treat only you could provide him with, but this was something else entirely, “-it’s been too long, my love, don’t you understand how very hungry I am?”

You don’t, but by no means are you going to let that stop either of you. You missed his mouth just as much as he missed your taste.

“K-Kyojuro-Kyojuro, I’m-Kyo–”

… He’s never been one to tease or deny you. And yet just as you’re about to cum, so close to the edge you could have tasted it yourself, he’s pulling away from you. His lips and chin and… Well, his face, in general, are so shiny with you-you easily forget your frustration and get lost in the blissful look in his eyes as he cleans himself with his tongue. “While you certainly are the most delicious thing in this world, my sweet,” He crawls up the length of your body so quickly, so desperate to smash his lips to your own, “-as I’ve told you, it’s been far too long. I want to feel you cum around my cock this evening. But I’m sure you have no complaint either way?” Any other day, you’d want to hit him, to get that cheeky look off of his face, but… You also can’t say you don’t want that. Maybe you really don’t have any complaints either way. “… You’re awful,” You huff up at him, but you nod, “… But alright.” … And yet he stays still. It would be so easy-you’re properly soaked, and the pair of you are completely naked, and yet your infuriating husband is just… Sitting there, hovering over you with a smile on his face. It’s a soft, loving smile-but you’ve known him so long, you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “… Can I not admire you, my beautiful spouse? Even for a moment, after I’ve been gone from you for so very long?” It’s not a crime for him to stare at you so adoringly-really, you’d love it if you weren’t as damn horny as you were. But... It has been a long time. He’s teasing, but as much as that’s true, you know he’s being earnest, too-his eyes flicker all over your form so carefully, meticulously re-memorizing every tiny detail about you. “... Even more beautiful then before I left you, dear one,” The way he murmurs it, so absently, it’s almost more like he’s saying it to himself, but his eyes raised to bore back into yours after a minute-clearly, he wants you to hear every word of what he’s saying, absent or not. “... Would you like to know something I thought about while I was away?” His love renders you breathless, speechless-it’s all you can do to nod up at him. “During the brief hours of respite I would get, I would think to myself... What would it be like to come back to you, our home... How would it feel, the joy of it all... And then, another thought had started to occur to me,” A sharp gasp tears through you as you feel a few fingers suddenly and swiftly beginning their work at stretching you out-sneaky man, he’d distracted you from his hands with his voice, and even then, he kept talking like he hadn’t done anything, “... What would it be like if I could come home to the sight of you all swollen and glowing with our child...?” Those words rob you of whatever meager amount of breath you had managed to regain. With your child...? “... Oh, my love, you squeezed my fingers so nicely just now,” He marvels at the sight, the feeling of you, worrying his lip between his teeth-you’re so pretty like this, is what he wants to say, but his mind is suddenly consumed by the thought he’d put into both your heads a moment ago. You, glowing with the product of your love in your stomach. You don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock where it hangs all hard between his legs. “Do you like the sound of that, then...? Do you want to carry my children, our children, my dear one? I’ll give it to you if you just say the word-after all, what poor excuse of a husband would I be if I didn’t?” His fingers move in and out of you faster, frantic and eager to prepare you for him, now, as he almost rambles on like that-his words set your body, your insides, on fire. You do want it, you realize-it’s not something you’d given much thought to before, but here, like this, right now after spending so much time worrying about losing him? You really do want nothing more. “P-p-please, please Kyojuro, I want-please give me your children, I want it, I want you, please make me pregnant, my husband, please-” It’s not meant to egg him on, truly it isn’t-you just can’t help but beg with how badly you want it yourself. But that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in the way he seems to snap, just the slightest bit, above you, quickly removing his fingers from you to replace them with his cock-what you’d been waiting for since he laid you down in bed earlier. That felt like an eternity ago right now, though. The stretch isn’t an uncomfortable one, with the care he’d still taken to prepare you-you missed it, if anything, you missed him. And it’s clear that he feels the same-he’s gone so tense above you, arms trembling on either side of you with the restraint it takes not to move. Somehow, he still manages to keep up that bright smile of his, too. “Do tell me when I can move, my love. This is a bit unbearable with how lovely you feel!” ... As hazy as your mind was with pleasure, you couldn’t help but giggle. Even now, your husband was so... Endearing. So cute. Your bring your hands up to hold his face as you nod your head eagerly, over and over, “Please, Kyojuro-please, I want it,” You can see that he wants to worry about you, wants to ask you again to make sure-but he can’t, his body betrays him, his hips instantly slotting themselves against your own, pulling back only to quickly bring themselves back down, his cock pressing and rubbing against every bit of your insides as it moves in and out of you, over and over and over, so fast-and your husband hardly even breaks a sweat. ... His being a demon slayer, and a pillar, at that, had its perks, you supposed. His stamina was one of them. But he seemed to already be losing his composure, too, with just how long it’d been since you’d gotten to be so close. “This-this is embarrassing, haha-I feel like I could burst at any moment already-just-just thinking about how-utterly perfect you’d look, ah-” His hips stutter, and he stills for a second, to keep his own pleasure at bay for a moment-though he makes up for it with the hand that shoots down to rub and stroke at what his cock isn’t already touching, “-goodness gracious-how perfect you’d look, pregnant, my love-” As if you aren’t ready to burst, yourself. Did he suddenly forget about denying you mere minutes ago...? “M-my husband-my husband, Kyojuro, please, m-me too, just go ahead, please-please give me your child, give it to me, please-” “You’re really as difficult as you are beautiful!” The very wind is knocked out of you as you find your legs suddenly on either side of your head, as he fucks into you with a very renewed, fittingly fiery sense of vigor and passion, grunting freely every time he feels you wrap around him again and again, “I truly did want to take my time with you this evening, my sweet-how irresistible you are like this-I’ll have to savor you another time-” This position, the wildness in his eyes, the feeling and the sight of him-yes, the sight of him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the bulge appearing and disappearing from your stomach-fucking into you desperately, all of it is far too much for you, far too overwhelming, but of course he revels above you in the way you clamp down on him and make a sudden, abrupt mess all over the pair of you, not to mention the futon underneath you. “So beautiful-so beautiful like this, my love-I-just the sight of you, you’re going to make me-goodness-” He leans over you and folds you in half even further, nose brushing against your neck, “I-I’m going to-I’m going to give it to you now, alright? I swear it, my love, my dear one, I’ll-I’ll get you pregnant, I promise, I promise, I--” It’s so intense, he almost roars as it washes over him, as he fills you up so completely it leaks out of you, with how long its been since either of you had any form of... Release. Your legs are released, and they flop numbly down against the plush futon beneath you-your husband can barely keep himself up, but he at least tries to be careful as he collapses against you, chuckling so happily against your shoulder while you can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone say anything. You wish you had the sense what was apparently so... Funny, right now. “... I love you, _____.” The biggest wave of tranquility falls over you, hearing those words. You can’t quite say much of anything still, but he knows-he sees it in your eyes when he looks up at your face. You love him too. Right now, that’s all he needs. “I really am so happy to be home, dear one.”

#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #demon slayer smut #submission

543 notes · View notes

demonslayedher · 3 years

Text

An Attempted Timeline: The Canon Events

Taking the time cues from throughout the series, this is an attempt to organize the course of (primarily) Tanjiro's demon slaying career. There will also be analysis of how fast Corp members move through ranks. Very open to being corrected.

A forward: This timing is primarily based on manga indicators, though I did check one detail against the anime. I disregard Ufotable for seasonal indicators because they placed Kanao’s early memories of going the Butterfly household in a winter setting, whereas Kanao joined on May 19. Information like that wasn’t published until those episodes might had already been in production, so I assume they weren’t given all the information to work with, and disregarding flower seasonality probably makes it easier to keep consistent background art.

Inciting Incident: Tanjiro finds his family slain by Muzan, and Nezuko turned to a demon. Likely February 2~5, 1913 (see here for detailed explanation why).

Following that, Tanjiro took at least a couple days to reach Mt. Sagiri, we can’t be certain how long Nezuko managed to stay awake while she was starving following her transformation, but she was already crashed out on the floor before Tanjiro even got permission to train.

Following that, we get a general “two years” of training. We don’t know how much time passes between breaking the boulder and the Final Selection beginning. For cleanliness’s sake, let’s assume the Final Selection is sometime in winter of early 1915. There is no indication of how regularly Final Selections are held, with the sheer amount of rank-and-file members and how fast they get killed off, I assume Final Selections are held multiple times a year.

Tanjiro spends 7 days there, then recovers for 15 days until Haganezuka arrives with his sword. Unclear how many days it took Tanjiro to arrive at the site of the Swamp Demon after receiving his first mission, but 2 days after that, he arrived at Asakusa.

This means that within a month of passing the Final Selection, Tanjiro already encountered Muzan. From the use of his muffler, it’s still cold weather. Nezuko has been awake a very short time before meeting Tamayo, who can tell she’s already undergone a significant transformation.

Unclear how many days it takes Tanjiro to encounter Zenitsu and receive a mission that same day to go to the site of the Drum Demon House. Meets Inosuke that same day. It’s entirely possible Tanjiro met Muzan the night before, or that it was a couple days to a week ago (a week feels like a huge stretch).

SEASONAL INDICATOR: Nothing’s growing in the fields.

Unclear how long they take to recover at the Wisteria Crest House. It’s “until their bones healed” and given the speed at which these shounen manga characters recover, I’m going to say it’s two weeks or less. However long, this is Tanjiro’s longest break since he started his missions. The light novels imply the boys hung out long enough to be invited to a local wedding in town and for Tanjiro to go on a midnight flower-picking escapade. This was also their chance to makes friends, even if Zenitsu and Inosuke might not yet call each other that. By the end of this period, it may have been only 1.5 months or less since they passed the Final Selection.

---

SIDE ANALYSIS, PART 1:

Zenitsu and Inosuke are still noobs, but I’m going to assume that they have a comparable amount of experience to Tanjiro if you go by kill count (Inosuke’s probably gone after plenty of little demons) or level of demon (I can’t imagine Chuntaro ever allowed Zenitsu to stay in one spot for long, though he probably took forever to finally buckle down and sleep accomplish each task). Since Ubuyashiki Kagaya took a personal interest in each of his “children” and I assume he sent newbie Tanjiro to Tamayo right away on purpose, and likewise he might have chosen missions suited for Inosuke and Zenitsu, like “what an interesting style, let’s send him to a place with a lot of demons that won’t hurt him too bad so we can see what his abilities are like, it’ll be good to have one person clean those pesky areas up instead of distracted my more experienced children” or “hmmm, he’s very strong but just doesn’t have confidence yet, let’s force him to build some confidence. Oh, he doesn’t seem to notice, oh dear.”

I consider these points because although the methods of moving up the ranks seem arbitrary, it probably takes into account the level of demons a Corp members faces instead of only the number of demons they defeat (for example, the fanbook cites Zenitsu and Inosuke as having contributed to Rui’s defeat even though they didn’t face him personally). Simply holding their own against a demon like Enmu probably meant something even though it was Rengoku’s contributions that enabled them to survive that fight and ultimately give Tanjiro the opening shot at Enmu’s neck. So why isn’t at least Tanjiro a Pillar? We’ll continue this discussion later, the boys are still recovering from broken ribs.

---

Upon receiving their mission, they depart, and they spent one night in battle on Mt. Natagumo.

The aftermath coincides with the twice-a-year Pillar meeting. It’s unclear how long these meetings take, but long enough to cover many topics and drag in Murata to grill him about why he and his cohorts are so weak. Reminder, Murata has been at this for about seven years, and he is only of the Kanoe rank (4th out of 10). Kanao, meanwhile, in the span of about 1.5 months has gone from Mizunoto to Tsuchinoto (5th out of 10). Holy ship, girl.

---

SIDE ANALYSIS, PART 2:

If we go by the theory that Oyakata-sama did his best to send them on missions that suited them, Murata’s limited potential might had also limited the amount of danger Oyakata-sama was willing to put him in on his own. Hence, why so many Corp members were sent together to the Mt. Natagumo, but “safety in numbers” wound up tragically working against them.

---

Tanjiro receives treatment at the Butterfly Mansion after Zenitsu and Inosuke, and they spend another period of time in bed to heal. Nezuko probably spent most of this time sleeping. Let’s assume two to three weeks.

During that time, the anime adds a scene of Shinobu making an additional visit to the Ubuyashiki Mansion, as Rengoku receives his mission (perhaps the one to go investigate the disappearances on a train?). This coincides with the start of Functional Recovery Training, which Tanjiro and Inosuke participate in for 14 days while Zenitsu spends more time in recovery.

Once Zenitsu starts, he and Inosuke both quit within 6 days. Tanjiro spends another 10 straight days losing to Kanao. He then engages in 15 days of Breath training on his own before having a little rooftop talk with Shinobu, and then in another 10 days, he’s able to blow up a big gourd.

While there might had been more days in between, Zenitsu and Inosuke finally come around and start Breath training too, and 9 days later, they are able to maintain constant Total Concentration Breathing (this speed is attributed to Shinobu being a good teacher and Tanjiro sucking at teaching). Over some indeterminate number of days later, Tanjiro & Inosuke receive new swords, and Enmu receives a big whopping of Muzan blood.

To recap:

--Since starting Functional Recovery Training, Tanjiro has been at this for at least 64 days.

--If we assume 2.5 weeks in bed before that, he’s been at the Butterfly Mansion for over 2.5 months, maybe closer to 3.

--It has been roughly 4 to 4.5 months since he passed the Final Selection. In that time, Genya has grown 20 centimeters (and a quick search tells me that 7.6 centimeters is the average growth per year for boys in puberty).

Tanjiro & Co. receive their mission, and some indeterminate number of days later (very possibly the same day), they arrive at the train station, and spend one night in battle. Since a lot of the demon activity took place around the Tokyo area where Muzan was located, it’s possible that this was the geographically furthest they ventured in the whole series. A historical fan theory I heard regarding Taisho era night trains suggests it was on route to Osaka, which I accept. It was probably long, hard journey straight back to the Butterfly Mansion. They had hardly been gone at all.

While we don’t know how long they kept Tanjiro in bed before he went out to the Rengoku estate (possibly quite a distance away in a southwest Tokyo suburb), but at least long enough for the funeral proceedings to already be over and done with. We do learn very specifically that in the four months following Rengoku’s death, the boys generally reside and train at the Butterfly Mansion between individual missions they go on.

SEASONAL INDICATORS:

Azalea, blooms April through June-ish:

Hydrangea, blooms June through July-ish (but the dried blossoms can seemingly stick around for ages after the rainy season ends):

This means that that when they go off to Yoshiwara in drag, it’s hot and humid. Besides all that boy-smelling sweat under the kimono, their gobs of makeup had to have been running. It also means the fighting was extremely fast passed for all of those events to have happened over the course of a relatively short summer night.

(HOWEVER!!! The anime uses a ton of late autumn seasonal indicators and it makes me tear my hair out.)

By the time they accept this mission, it has been roughly 8 months since they passed the Final Selection (7 of which they have spent as Butterfly Mansion residents). Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu are all Kanoe (4th of 10, the same that Murata was after seven years).

---

SIDE ANALYSIS, PART 3:

Canon, fanbooks, gaiden, and light novels tell us the following criteria for being a Pillar:

1. Be the strongest user of your Breath

2. Defeat one of the Twelve Moons

OR 3. Defeat at least 50 demons and be of the Kinoe (10th of 10) rank.

If this is all it takes, Tanjiro should be a Pillar from the moment he defeated Enmu. He’s the strongest Sun Breath user by default anyway, though no one knows this. (Giyuu might have even tried to insist that look, there’s someone else with qualification to be the Water Pillar now, let him have it, please, PLEASE.) There’s also a lot of questions and theories in the fandom about what happens when multiple people in the same Breath fit the criteria. Is Jiichan’s idea to have Kaigaku and Zenitsu as joint Pillars really all that unusual, or not? We just don’t know. Although it's implied early on that nine is the standard number of Pillars (because there are nine strokes in the kanji for "hashira" (柱)", very rarely is this the case. In most scenes of all the Pillars gathered, there are fewer than nine.

The light novel story about Sanemi defeating Lower Moon 1 states that both he and Masachika were Kinoe-ranked, so I take that as implying you need to defeat one of the twelve moons AND be Kinoe-ranked. However, that begs the question how characters like Muichiro and Mitsuri climbed the ranks so incredibly fast even though it typically takes “five years” to become a Pillar, or “two years if someone is very talented.”

They probably faced very, very strong demons very frequently early in their careers, and this played in to them jumping up the ranks extremely quickly. Hell, Muichiro might had offed a couple of Lower Moons and a good handful of demons every night before he finally hit the right rank and numbers.

This also begs the question about how few Corp members actually survive long enough to reach upper ranks. Murata’s been very, very lucky to have lasted seven years. It’s also very telling that Giyuu found it hopeless that any other Water Breath user besides Tanjiro would have the potential of becoming a Pillar, despite there being a bigger pool of Water Breath users than any other Breath.

We can probably assume that the vast majority of Corp Members are killed off by the middle ranks, or even well before that.

---

Tanjiro & co spend only 1~2 nights undercover in Yoshiwara before the day Zenitsu encounters Daki. The following day Uzui tells Tanjiro & Inosuke to leave, but they all head into battle that night. Before sunrise, all three boys fall unconscious due to their injuries.

Tanjiro spends the next two months in a coma (now a Butterfly Mansion resident for 9 months or so). After waking up, he spends one more week in bed and is soon recovered enough to go out to the Swordsmith Village (unclear number of days possibly spent in Functional Recovery, but he’s basically fully healed after that extra week in bed). Unclear number of days to reach Swordsmith Village, he hangs out with Mitsuri on the very first night there.

SEASONAL INDICATOR:

Matsutake mushrooms: In season September through November-ish. This is served at the meal Tanjiro and Mitsuri share. Yummy.

But before that meal, Tanjiro gets hit in the head with Genya’s tooth. Besides Genya, there are other non-Pillar Corp Members hanging around the village, though we only briefly see their corpses later.

The following day, Tanjiro meets Kotetsu and begins training with the Yoriichi Type Zero battle doll. Tanjiro’s starvation begins, he survives on rain water while Kotetsu denies him sustenance for the following 7 days. For the first 5 days the doll held paddles, but by the 7th day they’ve been exchanged for swords. Tanjiro gets a hit in and Kotetsu grants him food. Tanjiro continues training for an unclear number of days after that before the sword emerges. Tanjiro has held on to Genya’s tooth for well over a week.

One night of battle. Nezuko, over 2.5 years since becoming a demon and roughly 10.5 months since waking up from her big nap, masters the sun. Tanjiro spends the following week unconscious (Muichirio and Mitsuri respectively spend 2 days asleep and are mostly recovered by the 3rd). An emergency Pillar meeting is called, Pillar Training is decided. Some indeterminate number of days passes before Tanjiro learns of the training.

---

SIDE ANALYSIS, PART 4:

Not all of the Corp may have been at the Training.

By the end of training (since they haven’t been taking any missions, we can assume the same at the beginning of training), Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke are all Hinoe (8th of 10), while Kanao and Genya are Hinoto (7th of 10). This tells us a few things:

We don’t know if it’s mandatory to hit each rank, or if skipping ranks is acceptable depending on experience. Tanjiro probably got a huge jump due to his additional experience battling Upper Moon 4. For Zenitsu and Inosuke to have the same rank, they must had been taken on extremely formidable demons on their solo missions. Genya probably got a big jump due to Upper Moon experience, but he had to have already been pretty high up there using his own unique blend of Breath-free battle methods. Kanao probably picked up a lot of experience against strong demons simply by being in Shinobu’s company, but it’s unclear if she would have had solo missions, and if so, how many, and how in the world she already got to Tsuchinoto by the Mt. Nataguma arc (perhaps being an official Tsuguko plays some role?). Douma seemed to think Kanao had more innate fighting ability than Shinobu, so this can probably account for a lot of Kanao’s quick and steady(?) increase in rank even without much opportunity to go up against any of the Twelve Moons.

But what about Kaigaku? He seemed to still be in training during part of the year Zenitsu spent in training, so even though he passed his Final Selection before Zenitsu did, he wasn’t that far ahead of him timewise. He probably felt a lot of pressure to stay ahead of Zenitsu in rank, which might mean he went looking for strong opponents. The fact that he’d have survived them all is one thing, but each experience probably made him even stronger and stronger in a short amount of time, showing that he was also of a very, very considerable amount of talent. That’s probably why Kokushibo recognized potential in him, and Kaigaku’s hurry to eat as many people as possible to get as strong as he could as a demon was in line with the desperation he probably already felt to prove himself.

We can assume this transformation took place during the Pillar Training arc, making Kaigaku notably absent from training. But we also see that Nakime was searching out the locations of the whole Corp and spied at least one Corp member out on his own (who knows, maybe it was Kaigaku, but I suspect it was just a random member). She had determined the locations of 60% of the Corp members, probably because she found a few training sites, and it seems that in addition to looking for Ubuyashiki Kagaya, Muzan also wanted the certainly of knowing where each of the swordsmen were prowling. Although the demons were inactive ever since Nezuko mastered the sun, the Corp probably still assigned a reasonable portion to be on patrol while the others trained, or they took patrol and training in turns. My assumption is that members who didn’t have to participate, like Kaigaku, were among the highest ranked members.

Also, Oyakata-sama probably knew what all went down with Kaigaku. Sad times, sad times.

---

After hearing from Zenitsu about how much Pillar Training sucks, Tanjiro takes one more week to heal. He receives a letter from Oyakata-sama that day and immediately begins to pester Giyuu. After 4 days of being stalked, Giyuu finally relents and tells him about Sabito, and then agrees to start training. (If the order of training was different for everyone then Giyuu probably had several groups of trainees before Tanjiro got to his session.) This is the same day that Shinobu tells Kanao how she plans to defeat Douma, and the same day the crow arrives at Tamayo’s window to propose collaboration (which Shinobu was likely worked up about, knowing this was Oyakata-sama’s plan). Worth noting, Shinobu has already been poisoning herself for a year in preparation for battle with the demon that killed Kanae, so she had been at this since before meeting Tanjiro.

Three days after eating soba with Giyuu, Tanjiro begins training with Uzui for 10 days, then 5 days with Muichiro (others had been held there two weeks), some indeterminate number of days with Mitsuri, 4 days with Iguro, and then he got in trouble on the very first day of training with Sanemi. He probably arrived at Himejima’s abode shortly after that. On his first day, Murata has already been there for 10 days. Unclear if they start boulder training the same day, but it takes Tanjiro 7 days to be successful (during this time, Himejima spends time away from the mountain at Oyakata-sama’s side). Students were free to give up on Himejima’s training and move on, but good for Murata and his average buddies for sticking it out longer. Zenitsu receives word about Kaigaku on the day Tanjiro moves the boulder.

INTERESTING LACK OF SEASONAL INDICATORS LIKE SNOW.

Unclear number of days passes before Tanjiro arrives at Giyuu’s place, it’s possible it was the very following day. That night is when the following 67 chapters take place.

Therefore, Tanjiro’s Pillar training was roughly one full month, and combined with his recovery period, probably about 50 days since Nezuko mastered the sun. Shinobu and Tamayo only spent about one month or less in collaboration.

Following the battle with Muzan, Tanjiro spends three months in recovery.

The cherry blossoms are in “full bloom”, implying varieties like somei-yoshino as opposed to earlier or later blooming varieties, so this gives us a very small window in late March/early April.

SEASONAL INDICATOR:

When Muzan comes for a visit at the start of that long night, the Ubuyashiki girls are singing a song typically sung around New Years.

SEASONAL INDICATOR:

So!! If we work backwards…

Muzan’s defeat: Late Dec/early Jan

Beginning of Tanjiro’s Pillar training: Late Nov/early Dec

Swordsmith Village arc: Late Oct~early Nov

Yoshiwara arc: Late July, mid-August-ish

Train incident: Late March, mid-April-ish

Mt. Natagumo: Early-to-mid January

Final Selection: November or December….. f@%$*#.

2 or 3 months longer than where I hoped we’d be.

Tanjiro might had been exaggerating that two years a little since “half a year”, “half a year” is pretty vague, despite that he was likely keeping track of the dates in his writings. I’d be willing to tighten up the timeline just a bit to say the Final Selection was in late December 1914.

Of note: Most rural Taisho folks still celebrated New Years according to the old calendar, so we’ve got the following Gregorian dates for reference in case you want to play with them: Feb 6, 1913, Jan 26, 1914, and Feb 14, 1915. Even though we have birthdates for the characters, they wouldn’t have been likely to celebrate them in the Taisho era, and the westernized government was still having trouble standardizing the age keeping systems to count people from age 0 on their birthdate instead of age 1 from birth and increasing each New Year. You know, just to throw more wrenches into this whole thing.

Ungh. I tried.

Anyway, I feel relatively confident saying Tanjiro spent roughly a year in the Corp, give or take, and Muzan was defeated in late 1915 or early 1916.

And considering Tanjiro was at the 8th of 10 ranks after going up against a big handful of the 12 Moons and his sempai of 7 years Murata was still stuck at 4th or 5th, take from that what you will.

I’m done. Brain out. Time makes no sense anymore. Ultra-limited cherry blossom blooming periods will now haunt me more than they already do.

#kny nerdery #kny fandom theories and meta #kny references #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

350 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years

Text

everything happens for a reason part 7 - zuko x fem!reader

I think my ways are wearing me down

part 6 | masterlist | part 8

a/n: as said very astutely in my outline, "y/n just keeps taking L's"

i actually had to take breaks while writing the final scene and watching the episode LMAo i forgot how fucking sad this scene was!!

warning(s): you know what happens in this chapter. its siege of the north part 2. its so much more angst like SO MUCH ANGST. im so sorry i got so sad while writing this

wc: 4.0k

chapter title comes from brand new city by mitski!

Y/N adjusted her hold on the basket of clothes as she knocked on the door with her free hand, pushing it open after waiting a few moments.

“Prince Zuko?” she called in a whisper. They had gotten past the point of formalities, but it was a precaution she opted to take when they met like this. She spotted him sitting on his bed and he gave her a thumbs up, a sign she took to mean they were in the clear. Y/N closed the door behind her and bounded over, then set the basket on his bed.

“Alright. I brought you the book that you wanted to borrow.” She unearthed the novel from the pile of clothes with caution, taking care to not ruin the hard work that went into folding all of them. “I had to hide it so I could get in here — no one thinks anything of a servant bringing clothes around, but books are a little more suspicious. But here you go! My very own edition of ‘Keiko and the Koalaotter’.”

“Thank you!” The prince grinned as he took the book and examined the cover. “I’ve always been curious about Water Tribe culture, even more after you started teaching me about it. They don’t really tell us about it in our classes.”

“It’s not really accurate to actual Water Tribe stuff, but it is cute,” she laughed. “I remember begging my parents for a koalaotter for weeks after I finished it. They told me that there was no way to get one all the way in the Earth Kingdom, but I never listened to them.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” His eyes lit up as he ran over to the windowsill. “I got you a gift too!”

“Zuko, really? You shouldn’t have.”

“Well, I did. So don’t even think about not accepting it,” he joked. He picked something up from a vase and bounded back over, doing as good a job of hiding the flowers behind his back as his excited grin.

“What is it?” she questioned.

“They’re silver wisterias!” he exclaimed as he presented the bouquet. “They grow in the palace gardens. They’re really pretty, and so are you, and I know how much you love the gardens, so I thought you’d like it.”

She felt her cheeks heat up when she accepted the gift, twirling the stem in her fingers as she inhaled its sweet scent with a smile. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Zuko. Thank you.”

“Of course! You could wear one in your hair, pin one onto your uniform, put them in your room, whatever you want.”

As she carefully ran her fingers over the petals, she couldn’t stop the nagging question at the back of her mind from escaping.

“Why are you so nice to me?” she blurted out, causing Zuko’s brows to furrow in confusion.

“Because you’re my friend. Friends are nice to each other.”

“I know, but why are we friends?” she pushed. “You know that you could get in trouble for talking to me like this, but you still do it. Why?”

He pondered the question for a moment before he answered. “Well.. you don’t treat me like everyone else. I’m the prince, so everyone here has to do what I want and be nice to me. But you’re not like that. When it’s just the two of us, you treat me like anyone else, and I like that — I know that you always mean what you say, so when you’re nice to me I know it’s because you like me, not because you have to be. Why do you do that?” the prince asked as he turned the tables. “You know that you could get in trouble for talking to me like this, but you still do it. Why?”

She punched him playfully on the shoulder and giggled. “Someone’s gotta keep you humble.”

His cheeks flushed a bright red as he rubbed his arm shyly. “I’m really glad we’re friends. Sometimes it feels like you’re my only one in this whole nation.”

“So am I,” she beamed. “Always and forever, right?”

“Right.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she gasped, immediately whipping her head around frantically to see if the Avatar was still there, but Katara shook her head.

“He’s gone,” Katara said miserably, confirming her suspicions. “I woke up a few minutes before you and I checked everywhere.”

“Great,” she muttered. She rubbed the back of her head and winced — she had a feeling she would be plagued by headaches for at least the next couple of days.

“So…” Katara began. “You and Zuko both recognized each other. He— he said he thought that you were dead.”

Y/N pursed her lips, wondering how to start that story, when Sokka and Yue burst into the oasis on Appa.

“What happened?” he questioned. “Where’s Zuko?”

“He took Aang,” Katara mourned. “He took him right out from under me.”

“It’s not your fault, Katara,” Y/N insisted. “It really looks like he’s improved since… since last time.”

“‘Last time’?” Sokka asked, prompting a sigh from Y/N. She looked to Yue for help, and the princess nodded supportively.

“We have… history.” She looked at her hands for a moment before continuing. “I’m not from the Northern Water Tribe. My mother is, but I was born in a small village in the Earth Kingdom. I told you that my village was invaded, Katara, but after it, my mother and I were captured for being waterbenders, and they took us to the Fire Nation to work as healers and servants in the palace.”

“I became friends with Zuko there. He was nothing like you saw today, or like anything you know from the past. He was kind, and caring, and passionate, and he made my dismal life a little bit brighter. And… we ended up falling for each other.”

“We went too far, the Fire Lord found out, and— well, he was going to kill me. My mother managed to get me out, but she stayed behind, and I haven’t seen her since that night. I haven’t seen Zuko since that night. I always held hope that I would find my way back and see them both again, but now that Zuko is like… like that?” She bit down on her lip and shook her head.

“Now I don’t know what to think. He’s completely different than anything I knew, than the boy that I fell in love with. And I can’t help but think about what happened to my mother if that is what happened to Zuko.” And I can’t help but think that it’s my fault for not being there for him.

A collective silence hung in the air for just a moment before Sokka broke it. “You had a thing with Zuko?”

Y/N let out a surprised laugh as Katara hit him on the shoulder. “Sokka, now is not the time!”

“No,” she chuckled. “No, it’s alright. It’s a lot, I know. It’s just… impossible. That the Zuko I knew turned into someone like this. I mean, you saw, Katara— he didn’t even hesitate to try and hurt me.”

Katara pulled her into a warm embrace before separating and looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N, for all that you’ve been through. And I know that fighting against Zuko hurts, so if you can’t come after Aang with us then I completely understand—”

“No,” she said once more, something hardening in her eyes. “I’ll help you find Aang, it’s the least I can do. Besides, I… I have to see him again. I have to see him again to know that this is actually real, that— that this is actually who he is now.”

Katara nodded solemnly; Sokka had already started walking back to Appa with Yue. “Well, Zuko couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll find him — Aang’s gonna be fine.”

Katara looked back hopefully at Y/N and she met her eyes with a smile, though slightly strained, as she jogged to catch up with them. But as she climbed onto Appa with her fellow waterbender, the anger in his eyes was all she could see.

The boy she fought might’ve been the Fire Prince, but it was not her Zuko.

Cold.

That was all Zuko seemed to know as he trekked through the frozen tundra, the blizzard around him threatening to end him at any moment. No more had he despised the Water Tribes than he did in this moment, but the weight of the Avatar on his back and the promise of his honor was enough to push him onwards.

The only thing on his mind that he couldn’t shake was her.

Zuko thought she was dead, honestly and truly. Few were lucky enough to escape his father’s wrath once it was incurred upon them — Zuko himself wasn’t even an exception — and though he wanted nothing more than for her to be one of the few, he knew that she was dead. There was no other explanation.

For years, the waterbender had been a staple in his mind — a memory of a childhood love, of a better time. He thought about her when he fought against his soldiers on slow evenings on the ship, her words of encouragement and joking retorts echoing through his ears as he went through every form. He thought about her when he talked to his uncle, his attitude often mirroring hers. The morning of the Agni Kai, he almost turned to her for reassurance before remembering.

Spirits, Zuko thought about her every time he looked at the water. And even all these years after her disappearance, he was still plagued by nightmares of her fate.

He had resigned himself to mourning her. Zuko truly thought she was dead.

But there she was, in the flesh, with the Avatar and his friends. Breathing. Alive. His enemy.

How the fuck was he supposed to deal with that?

She was even more beautiful than he remembered, but it was obvious the years since her escape had weathered her. He noticed a certain emptiness in her eyes, the brightness from their childhood a distant memory. It was obvious she had grown — she carried a certain elegance that he didn’t remember, and her skill in waterbending had improved so much since the days of their sparring sessions.

It felt like he had betrayed her. The expression she wore after his first blast was like a physical weight, the guilt of broken promises heavy over his head when he struck the final blow. So familiar to their friendly fights, yet such a far cry.

But they weren’t kids anymore. She had changed, and so had he.

It had been years. Any feelings he still harbored for her didn’t matter anymore.

Zuko had a mission, and he was going to complete it no matter what.

The tundra was treacherous, the blizzard making it difficult to see anything at all. Y/N had taken to holding Yue’s hand, something the princess had offered when she had seen how restless her friend was, as well as gnawing on the bottom of her lip. She feared for both Zuko and Aang, and she could only hope that they would be able to find them before something happened to either of them.

“Don’t worry,” the princess reassured. “Prince Zuko can’t be getting too far in this weather.”

“I’m not worried they’ll get away in the blizzard,” Katara murmured. “I’m worried that they won’t.”

“They’re not gonna die in this blizzard,” Sokka said as he gripped the reins tighter. “If we know anything, it’s that Zuko never gives up.”

Y/N chuckled softly and nodded. “You’ve got that right.”

Yue gave her hand a squeeze and a small smile, a sentiment that Y/N returned as Sokka continued. “They’ll survive, and we’ll find them.”

It took a few more minutes of riding and searching, but eventually a bright blue light streaked through the air. Katara gasped and pointed up. “Look!” she exclaimed. “That’s gotta be Aang! Yip yip!”

Appa groaned once more and Sokka turned to follow the light — it had stopped in a small cove before glowing brilliantly then disappearing — and sure enough, Zuko and Aang were down in the snow.

“Appa!” he cheered as they landed, causing Zuko’s eyes to flick up too. Y/N met his gaze for just a moment before he broke it, throwing Aang to the side and easing into a bending stance as Katara slid off of Appa’s back.

“Here for a rematch?” Zuko challenged, the undeserved confidence he spoke with a glimpse of the past.

“Trust me, Zuko,” Katara countered as she raised her hands, “It’s not going to be much of a match.”

She blocked his fire blast then sent a current of snow at him, launching him up into the air on a frozen column before letting him fall to the ground and knocking him out. Y/N couldn’t help but wince, and as Sokka jumped down to free Aang, she slid down as well.

She ran over the pile of snow and bent it off of Zuko, then knelt down next to him and pulled off her glove. She put two fingers on his neck and confirmed what she already thought, but it was still a relief. He was alive, but he wouldn’t be for much longer if he stayed out here.

“What are you doing?” she heard Sokka yell. Y/N turned to find everyone back on Appa already, staring expectantly at her.

“We can’t leave him!” Y/N protested.

“Sure we can!” he countered. “Now come on, let’s go!”

“No,” she insisted, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. It was ice cold. “If we leave him, he’ll die!”

“She’s right.” Aang airbended himself off of Appa and helped her pick up Zuko; Aang bringing himself and the prince back onto the bison with his element and Y/N climbing back up with a hand from Katara.

Sokka rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let’s bring the guy who’s constantly trying to kill us.”

Y/N ignored the remark and met Aang’s eyes, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’. He smiled and nodded, then grabbed the reins and took off.

As they flew through the sky, Y/N glanced down at Zuko. He looked so much more peaceful now than a few moments ago, his features relaxed rather than tense. It was strange seeing him like this after all these years; angry, scarred, changed. Nothing like the reunion she had imagined.

She bent some of the snow falling down into water and molded it over the cuts on his face, the element taking on a slight glow as she started to heal him.

“Oh, Zuko,” she murmured. “What happened in those four years?”

As if her concentration had broken, the water previously under her control lost both its shape and glow as it pooled on his face. She frowned and attempted to bend it off, but none of the usual power she felt at night was flowing through her veins.

It was at that moment that Y/N looked up and noticed her surroundings.

Everything was cloaked in a veil of red, a crimson moon their backdrop as they continued through the air. “My bending isn’t working,” Y/N muttered, earning a curious look from Katara.

And to make matters worse, Yue winced and held her head, Aang doing the same.

“Are you okay?” Sokka questioned as he reached out to comfort her.

“I feel faint,” she muttered, the effort it took not lost on Y/N.

“I feel it too.” Aang pressed his palm against the side of his head and grimaced as his gaze shifted upwards. “The Moon Spirit is in trouble.”

Y/N’s eyes widened immediately as they flicked towards Yue, the princess choosing not to meet them as she began to tell them all the story of her birth and how she owed the Moon Spirit her life. By the time she was done the Water Tribe siblings were staring at her with disbelief, but there was no time for questions as they flew into the Spirit Oasis.

The sight that awaited them shocked Y/N to her core. A Fire Nation admiral — one she recognized from all the years ago, yet unable to place a name — held a bag with one clenched fist, the other posing the unsaid threat.

“Don’t bother,” he spat in response to their fighting stances, the two words overflowing with unearned confidence. But as cocky as he may have been, it worked — he knew that they were rendered helpless when he held the possibility of a dying spirit against them.

“Zhao, don’t.” Aang dropped his staff and held his hands up in surrender, an action Y/N and the others mirrored.

Everything after that happened unbelievably quickly. After General Iroh — a man she knew as both the ruthless general that laid siege to Ba Sing Se for six hundred long days and Zuko’s surprisingly kind uncle — threatened the admiral with his own firebending, Y/N foolishly believed it to be the end once he let the fish back into the pond.

But any hopes of peace were dashed with the slice of firebending the admiral sent at Tui, plunging the world back into shades of grey just as quickly as it had returned.

“NO!”

A bloodcurdling scream rang in the air; Y/N thought whoever produced it must’ve been insane. It took her a moment to realize the strangled sound had come from her, and that Sokka’s grip on her arms was the only thing stopping her from foolishly throwing herself into the raging battle that had started.

Did the admiral not understand what he had just done? To attack any spirit was to inflict the rage of many others, to kill a spirit was to sign not only one's own death warrant, but those around him as well.

To kill the Moon Spirit meant to destroy waterbending as the world knew it. To kill the Moon Spirit meant to disrupt the balance of the world. To kill the Moon Spirit meant to kill Yue.

The admiral should’ve considered himself very lucky that her waterbending was gone. With it, Y/N knew she would’ve done something she would regret.

As soon as the flames of Iroh’s onslaught disappeared, Sokka’s grip loosened on her arms and she all but sprinted over to the pond. A choked sob fell from her lips when she saw the dead fish in the water, palpable horror in the air as the rest of the group joined her.

Not even Aang’s feat of merging with the Ocean Spirit could help — it might’ve saved the tribe from the attack on the Fire Nation, but it could do nothing for the dead spirit. Y/N watched on mournfully as Iroh placed Tui back into the pond, the mortal body of the fish laying there unmoving.

“It’s too late,” Katara lamented. “It’s dead.”

Iroh looked up and met Y/N’s eyes, recognition flashing through them for just a moment before they moved to Yue’s. The blue hues of her irises were even more striking than usual — they were the only sign of color in the world around them.

His own widened with surprise as he gestured at her. “You have been touched by the Moon Spirit. Some of its life is in you.”

Yue seemed to understand what he was saying as she raised her head, her features taking on a mask of stoicism. “Yes, you’re right. It gave me life… maybe I can give it back.”

It was as if lightning had struck Y/N, the way that fear was jolted into her heart. “No!” she cried at the same time as Sokka, a reprise of her earlier plea. “Yue, you can’t!”

“You don’t have to do that!” Sokka reached out for her hand but she wrenched it out of his grasp — nothing they could say was going to change her mind.

“It’s my duty.” The princess stated it so plainly, carving the letters on her headstone herself.

“I won’t let you!” Sokka insisted. “Your father told me to protect you.”

“Yue, your duty isn’t to die for your tribe!” Y/N cried. She couldn’t think, spirits she could barely breathe. She couldn’t go through this again. She couldn’t go through this again. “Please, there has to be another way!”

She smiled sadly at Y/N and shook her head. “This was what I was born to do.” The princess glanced at the pond then took a step forward, wrapping Y/N in the tightest hug she could muster. She pressed her lips against Y/N’s cheek in a feather light kiss before she pulled away and continued forward and placed her hands against the koi fish.

The fish began to glow, Yue closed her eyes, she collapsed into Sokka’s arms.

And that was it.

The color returned to the world, but Y/N was frozen in place. She couldn’t do anything to save her friend, the girl that she was pretty sure she loved, as she died in front of her. Her cheek was still burning from where Yue’s lips had touched, and she wanted to bottle that warmth because she knew that was the last time she would ever feel it.

The first tear to fall snapped her out of her paralysis as she fell to her knees next to Sokka, her body cradled in his arms as he mourned for a lost love. Y/N wanted to scream, she wanted to sob, she wanted to do anything to get this anger and sadness out but she could do nothing but stare, eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears.

Her body slowly faded away, and Y/N could’ve laughed at the irony. Yue gave her life for the spirits and all they could leave them with was the fleeting memory.

The fish in Iroh’s hands began to glow and he placed it back in the water, and almost immediately it returned to its natural rhythm. The oasis took on the glow of the fish and it formed the cruelest joke of them all.

Princess Yue. She was ethereal, both her hair and white dress flowing down her back and a peaceful expression on her face. She was more beautiful than ever, and her voice echoed through the oasis as she spoke.

“I will always be with you, Y/N. Thank you for making me feel alive.” A small smile, much like the one she gave her just moments ago, played on her lips. “I love you.”

Y/N could do nothing but stare, awestruck and heartbroken, as she whispered something to Sokka and kissed him.

And then she was gone.

Her gaze was trained forward, tears spouting and falling down her cheeks, some dim part of her still hoping that it was just a cruel joke by the spirits. She couldn’t go through this again.

How could they do this to her again? How could they introduce a light into her life and make her fall in love, then wrench it away from her grasp? She felt selfish for only caring about herself. She couldn’t go through this again.

Yue was gone.

She couldn’t go through this again.

Another strangled sob fell from her lips and Katara pulled her into a hug. That simple motion seemed to open to the floodgates, and suddenly she was choking on her own tears. Katara’s arms around her were the only tether she had to the world right now, she had to focus on it or else she would lose herself to the grief.

It felt like the minutes were hours with how long it took until Y/N was finally able to walk out of the oasis, but Katara and Sokka stayed by her side the entire time. When they finally stumbled out into the real world, Y/N felt weaker than ever. The constant go go go of the siege had finally caught up to her, and she was so damn tired.

“Always and forever.”

“You’re stuck with me.”

She was losing hope in promises.

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @carisi-sonny

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko #zuko fic #zuko x reader fic #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #atla fic #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar x reader #sadie writes #im not gonna lie i barely proofread this #simply because i didnt want to put myself through it lmao #thats a good sign right

350 notes · View notes