#lucent glass

[basementgremlindigs]

Current wip

Trying to get better at cutting and grinding

Pattern is free from Lucent Glass

#current wip #my art #art wip #wip #cloud nine #lucent glass

[yandere-writer-momo]

🌶️ Yandere Baki Shorts:

Mine 🌶️

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Afab reader x Kizaki

I wanted to do something a little darker. A little smutty. So you have this monstrosity of 5.5k words.

Kaoru is about 24/25 in this.

Also! Did you know most men want to be with women who are like their moms? (Weird)

Minors DNI

TW: stalking, yandere behavior, uncomfortable themes, misogyny, mommy issues, forced marriage, dubcon, and forced voyeurism

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Kizaki was doing it again, Kaoru noted. His dark eyes observing his right hand man smiling at the lucent screen. Just what has been so interesting to him over these last few months that he was failing to listen to his words?

“Kizaki?” Kizaki nearly dropped his phone from his hand when Kaoru’s deep voice rung throughout the limousine. “What is so interesting?”

Kizaki’s eyes dart to the steering wheel, sweat pooling down his back in nervousness. Should he tell his boss he’s been seeing someone? That he met a wonderful young woman while out on a food run for Kaoru a few months back?

“Kizaki.” Kaoru’s tone is stern, his gaze now narrowed. This wasn’t like Kizaki. The older man was usually quite diligent with his job but as of late, he’s been giggling like a schoolgirl at his phone. A rosy blush now spotted on his tanned cheeks and he seemed more at ease as of late… was he sick?

“I can’t hide anything from you, boss…” Kizaki rubs the back of his neck. “I have a girlfriend.”

Something broke in Kaoru’s head like a glass vase from Kizaki’s words. Kizaki had a girlfriend… a girlfriend. A girlfriend before Kaoru.

A silence consumed the limousine, the tension so thick that it could be sliced with a knife. Kizaki hadn’t meant to make things awkward…

“She must be an amazing woman.” Kaoru mutters softly under his breath. He should be happy that Kizaki was seeing someone… and yet, he was jealous. Kaoru couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month.

And it always fell back on him. His life was too dangerous, he was too emotionless, he wasn’t romantic enough, he was too much in bed, or he was too controlling. Kaoru was too much for a girl and he just accepted it. He was never going to find anyone to love someone like him.

Yet… he craved it. He wanted a woman as wonderful as his mother. A beautiful,demure woman who would listen to him and comfort him… it was unrealistic, he knew that. Kaoru has only truly adored one woman in his life and that was his mother. No other woman could compare to her, at least the ones he’s been around as of late.

“Boss? I apologize for not telling you sooner.” Kizaki snaps Kaoru from his daze. The yakuza boss clearing his throat. How unprofessional of him to get lost in his own musings while his most trusted man shared a bit of his personal life with him.

“It’s alright… I understand.” Kaoru trailed off, his attention turning to the bustling city streets. He was getting into his emotions again, he needed to calm down before they spilled out. “You’re allowed to have a life outside of me.”

Kizaki smiles sadly at his boss. He has always been worried about Kaoru. The younger man just seemed lonelier as the years dragged on… ever since his mother’s passing.

“If there’s anything you want or anything I can do for you, let me know.” Kizaki smiles warmly at his boss.

Oh how those words were going to bite him back…

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Kaoru noticed Kizaki buying a bouquet of roses every so often as the seasons went by. The soft red petals reminding him of a distant memory of his mother. She was always so fond of the prickly, aromatic flowers. But their beauty could never compare to hers… he missed her everyday.

“Is she fond of them?” Kaoru asks, his dark eyes glancing into Kizaki’s through the rear view mirror. The older man smiling at him.

“Yes. I personally peel off the thorns for her. Delicate flowers for my delicate lady.” Kizaki says more to himself than Kaoru. “She deserves only the best…”

Kaoru clenched his fist tightly. The skin on his hand now a pale white. He shouldn’t be jealous of Kizaki, he truly shouldn’t. It’s not as if he desired Kizaki’s woman. It was more of a fact that Kizaki had found love despite his criminal status while Kaoru himself still struggled.

Kaoru was in his mid twenties now and he had yet to have a long term partner.

Women came and went out of his life. Whether they were a date for the night or someone to warm his bed, nothing ever came from his numerous attempts at companionship. Romance was an entirely different story all together. He wasn’t a romantic nor was he good at comfort. He was a man who was hardened by the horrors in his life and there was no one willing to patiently wait for him to open up… there was no one who ever tried to love him… love is what he truly desired deep down.

Perhaps that’s why he drowned himself in liquor, crimes, and fights. Just a bit of serotonin and he would be okay. Just another shot of adrenaline and he wouldn’t think about it. Hanayama Kaoru didn’t need anyone or anything. He was too proud to ever admit aloud that he was lonely.

“Boss? You seem a bit quieter than normal.” Kizaki piped up from the driver’s seat. Quieter than normal? Kaoru was quiet in general. “What’s on your mind?”

Kaoru opened his mouth to speak before he ultimately decided to shut it. He wouldn’t trouble Kizaki with his woes. He didn’t want to ruin the man’s night with his girlfriend. Kizaki didn’t have to always put Kaoru above himself. The older man has loyally served Kaoru for years now. The man deserved a life outside of the Hanayama family.

“It’s nothing.” Yes… it was nothing.

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Kaoru felt his stomach drop when he caught a glimpse of a young woman holding Kizaki’s arm across the street. Who was she?

“Oh that’s Kizaki’s girlfriend, (your name).” One of his men shared with a smile. It was as if he read Kaoru’s mind. A hand was then placed on his shoulder. “She’s a really pretty thing.”

Kaoru droned out his men’s words other than her name. Her name was even pretty… Kaoru observed Kizaki and her laugh together. She looked so gentle… so unlike the women he attracts. How did Kizaki find her?

Kaoru watched Kizaki speak to her before the man noticed Kaoru across the street. Kizaki then whispered something in her ear, the young woman turning to glance over in Kaoru’s direction.

(Eye color) eyes meeting smoldering obsidian eyes for the first time. Kaoru’s breath was stuck in his throat when she gave him a smile so bright, it felt like he was hit with a ray of sunshine.

Kaoru nearly choked on his spit, his eyes memorizing her facial structure and expression. This was the first time a woman has ever happily greeted him…

Kaoru shook his head. This was wrong. He couldn’t be pinning after his best friend’s girlfriend…

Kaoru gave a small wave back before he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Kaoru would not let this crush grow anymore… it wouldn’t end well for Kizaki.

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Kaoru couldn’t get her out of his head. Her face haunting his dreams… her smile appearing every time he shut his eyes. She was inescapable and it was hell.

(Your name) looked just like a dream to him… his mind was making her into some romanticized version of herself and he just couldn’t stop the delusions from overtaking his mind. Kaoru found himself increasingly slipping through the cracks of reality and into his fantasies.

Kaoru ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. What was the point in fixating on her if he could not have her? He was a horrible person for even having indecent thoughts about Kizaki’s girlfriend. How could he not be jealous? Was he that unlovable?

Kaoru could feel his eyes water a bit but he shook his head to stop them from falling. Men don’t cry.

Yet today was a day he would allow himself to wallow in self pity. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death and just like every year before this one, he was determined to visit her grave.

The limousine came to a stop at the cemetery, Kaoru exiting the vehicle in a timely fashion. A giant bouquet of red roses in his large hands.

“Are you sure you don’t need any guards?” Kizaki asks from the driver’s seat. The older man’s eyes filled with worry.

“I’m not a child, Kizaki. I’ll be fine.” Kaoru reassured his friend. Even if something did happen to him, it’s not like Kaoru couldn’t handle it. He danced with death so often, it became a dance routine.

“Alright… I’ll be back in an hour to get you.” Kizaki then drove off, leaving Kaoru behind.

The yakuza boss made his way up the cobblestone step until the graves because more and more familiar. His eyes watery once they landed on his mother’s grave. A grim reminder that she was gone…

The sky was cloudy and a light drizzle kissed his skin with each step until he stood in front of the elegant monument that held his mother under it.

“Hello, mom…”

Kaoru knelt in front of the grave stone and placed the roses beside the angel shaped tombstone. He reached into his suit jacket to pull out a lighter to light some incense. The tears were slowly starting to fall from his stone cold face.

Kaoru’s ears picked up a soft humming. He turned his head and noticed a familiar young woman kneeling at another grave across the rows of tombstones. A modest white dress on her form as she knelt on the grass. A stain no doubt would be on her knees, but to Kaoru, she still looked like a fairy.

She slowly turned to face him once she noticed his presence. (Eye color) eyes meeting obsidian once more, this time at closer proximity.

Her eyes widened at his tears. The young woman getting up and slowly making her way towards him as if he was some injured wild animal. And perhaps in her mind, he was. Kaoru couldn’t be certain of what she was thinking, he wasn’t a mind reader.

It was when she knelt before him that he could hear his heart drumming in his head. Thump. Badump. Thump.

Time slowed down when she placed her small hands on his scarred cheeks and wiped the trail of tears from his face. This had to be a dream… there was no way she was really before him… and then she hugged him. Her small barely fitting around his waist as she pulled him into a warm embrace.

Kaoru sucked in a shaky breath when her warm skin met his. The scent of roses lulling him into a dream like state of relaxation. Her body fit so perfectly against his… like a missing puzzle piece.

“It’s okay…” and as soon as those softly whispered words left her plump lips, he was completely under her spell. His walls were knocked down and the waterworks began.

Large muscular arms pulled her body flush against his, his face buried in the crook of her neck as a sob wracked through his chest. He held her like a lifeline as years of pent up tears cascade down his scarred face. Her comforting scent of roses calming him in a familiar way…

Kaoru glanced over at his mother’s grave as a revelation hit him. His mother must have sent (your name) to meet him… that’s why they are so similar… why she smelled of roses and was oh so soft. She was his destiny.

Their meeting here at the cemetery and their comforting interaction was fate…

And on that cold, cloudy day, Kaoru finally succumbed to his delusions.

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The first gift that came to (your name)‘s house was a bouquet of ruby colored roses. There had to be at least a hundred of them in the little black box they came in.

The scent was overpoweringly heady and sweet to the point that it gave her a headache… but it was sweet of Kizaki to buy her roses. It’s been a minute since he’s gotten her a bouquet of her favorite flowers…

She smiled as she brought the bouquet up to her roses and inhaled the scent. Hmm… there was another scent mixed in there… almost like a tobacco scent which was strange. Why would someone spray cologne in with the roses?

Oh well, she’d display them in the center of her table so she can enjoy the present her boyfriend had gotten her.

She was unaware of the scarred man who sat on the bench across the street admiring her from afar… he was so happy she loved his gift. Especially because he left a piece of him with it… it’s important to accustom one’s partner to their scent. That way it’d be more calming to them.

Kaoru sighed and rose up from the bench. The giant man lighting a Cuban cigar and inhaling the tobacco deeply. Soon… he’d woo her soon.

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“I didn’t get you a bouquet of roses, darling.” (Your name) felt her blood run cold at Kizaki’s words. He didn’t get her the roses… then who got her the roses? “Sorry but I have to get back to work. The boss has been keeping me so busy as of late…”

(Your name) lips twitched. She knew she was going to be second in Kizaki’s life compared to his boss, but lately she hasn’t been seeing her beau as much… it was a bit lonely to say the least.

“Be safe. Love you-“ Kizaki had hung up right away, leaving him no time to respond to her words of admiration. A sigh escaped her lips as she sat down at her table and buried her face in her hands.

It wasn’t Kizaki’s fault. He was a busy man and she shouldn’t bother him with her incessant chatter. She’d only call him if it became too much for her.

And oh did it become overwhelming quickly.

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(Your name) found a gift for her every single day since the box of roses. Sometimes double gifts. Now it was exquisite jewelry pieces and designer clothing… how did they know her exact sizing and tastes?

She felt violated in her own home at this point. Who was her secret admirer and how did they know so much about her… and why were they so persistent?

(Your name) itched to call Kizaki but he’s been so busy with work and she didn’t want to add onto that stress. She was a big girl, she was sure she could handle this.

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Another week had gone by and now she was even more paranoid. It felt as if someone’s eyes were always on her. That she had a stalker…

She swore sometimes she’d see the flash of a camera out of the corner of her eye. It was frustrating and terrifying all at once.

Not to mention the black limousine she’d spot near her place of work. Who on earth could be following her around? She didn’t think she was such an interesting person…

But lately, her rude clients have disappeared seemingly out of thin air. No one has heard of them since they screamed at you… it was strange.

The last two weeks have been so strange…

She arrived home a little earlier than normal since she felt sick at work. And low and behold… she caught her admirer red handed.

She just didn’t expect them to be Kizaki’s boss… Hanayama Kaoru was it? Despite his rugged appearance he was a few years younger than her. Not that she was excusing his outlandish behavior with his age.

“You’re back early…” Kaoru muttered, the man still holding a neatly wrapped black box in his hands. “I guess this makes things easier for me.”

(Your name)’s eyes were wide when he tried handing her the gift. She took notice of the intricately tied knots around the box. What on earth was this man insinuating?

“I think you’d look lovely in red and black…” Kaoru whispered, his dark eyes admiring her facial expressions.

“I really cannot accept these-“ Kaoru put a finger up to her lips and hushed her.

“Shh. It’s okay. I know you want me as much as I want you…” Kaoru pressed a chaste kiss to the shell of her ear, causing (your name) to involuntarily shudder. He was in her bubble and it disgusted her.

(Your name) put her hand over his mouth and attempted to push him back. Instead her palms were met with a kiss from his large lips.

Kaoru easily swatted her hand away and swooped her into his arms. His lips on her cheek now.

“If you wanted me to kiss you, you could have just said so…” Kaoru chuckled at her attempts to get away from him. She felt like a kitten trying to defend itself from a lion. He made her feel so small and helpless…

“Stop it-“ His lips silenced hers in a swift kiss. His tongue prying her mouth open with ease, the pink muscle easily swallowing hers whole. This was no kiss… this was an assertion of dominance. Kaoru was letting her know how useless it was to resist him. To reject him. To escape him.

A string of saliva connected the two, his obsidian eyes hazy with lust. The yakuza leader leaning forward to lick up the saliva string from her lips.

“You taste so good.” Kaoru whispered as he peppered her face with more kisses. “I just want to devour you whole so no one else can ever taste you…”

Kaoru reluctantly pulled away, a smile now on his usually stoic face. “I’ll see you around my dear… next time I’ll bring a better gift. One that will be sure to wow you. I’ll see you around, dear.”

The moment he left, her knees finally gave out from under her. (Your name)’s strength completely left her as the waterworks began to come. She felt so hopeless… getting away from him was hopeless.

There was not a doubt in her mind that Kaoru would one day swallow her whole. And she was even certain that it would be in the near future.

There was something seriously wrong with that man… he must’ve been hit in the head too many times to truly believe that the way he was behaving towards was normal.

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Kizaki noticed Kaoru’s sudden change in behavior. His boss would buy giant bouquets of roses, expensive jewelry, and clothes from the latest designers. It didn’t take long for Kizaki to figure out that Kaoru had fallen in love.

Kizaki was thrilled to know that his boss had fallen for someone… his boss deserved to be happy after all these years of solitude and rejection.

Kaoru had been increasing his work as of late, which kept him from seeing his girlfriend as much but she was understanding… Kizaki loved (your name) so much. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect partner for him.

Lately she seemed a bit on edge so Kizaki decided to drop by after his latest errand for Kaoru. Kaoru seemed a bit agitated that Kizaki didn’t want to work longer, but he relented.

Kaoru told Kizaki he’d be collecting his bride soon, but Kizaki wasn’t quite sure what his boss meant by that. His boss barely has been seeing his recent beau, how could marriage be on the line?

It was when Kizaki arrived to (your name)’s home that he realized what was truly going on with his boss. The familiar gifts all sitting precariously on her dining room table unopened. Her eyes red and puffy and her voice hoarse from crying.

“He won’t stop…” Her voice was barely above a whisper but Kizaki heard her. The reality was still sinking into him. This had to be a sick joke… a prank. Kaoru couldn’t possibly be in love with (your name)…

Kizaki knew the truth no matter how much he wanted to ignore it. Kaoru wasn’t a man who joked around, he was always serious. And these gifts were proof that he was serious about (your name).

“He was at the cemetery when I was there and he… he just looked so sad.” (Your name) choked out the words, her hands tightly gripping her arms. “I just hugged him was all and now he won’t leave me alone… why won’t he leave me alone, Kizaki?”

Kizaki couldn’t muster a response… yet his actions provided her the comfort she desired. His arms wrapped around her in a gentle embrace. His chai tea scent offering her solace.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Kizaki pulled away and held her face in his hands. His dark eyes softening at her face. “I won’t let you be subjected to this. I love you.”

(Your name) nodded her head and pressed her lips against her boyfriend’s. Kizaki leaning his forehead against hers.

“We’ll get through this together, darling.”

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Kaoru marveled at the photos he had a photographer take of (your name). A giant professional portrait of her now hanging in his office. He wanted more of her… but for now he would settle for this temporary fix to his addiction.

Kaoru sighed dreamily as his hands flipped through each photo fondly. She was so beautiful… and so kind…

Kaoru’s behavior was becoming more and more concerning to his peers but they didn’t dare pipe up in fear of him lashing out.

No one wanted to end up on his bad side or else their face would end up as an article in the daily paper… Kaoru was not a man anyone wanted to mess with and especially not to stand up to.

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Kizaki flinched when Kaoru threw his desk across the room. The wood splintering under the force of his throw and various papers scattered across the room.

Kaoru wasn’t handling the news well… that Kizaki wanted to marry his girlfriend of almost a year and that he wasn’t going to accept payment for her hand.

“I’m offering you one million yen.” Kaoru murmurs under his breath. “Do you want more money? Just name your price and I’ll pay it-“

“Boss… you can’t buy love-“ a chair was then thrown over Kizaki’s head. The older man sighing at Kaoru’s tantrum. Perhaps Kizaki was reaping what he’s sown by spoiling Kaoru for all these years.

“You said if there’s anything I want from you, you’d give it to me…” Kaoru whispered, his large form looming over Kizaki. “And I want (your name).”

“Boss-“ Kizaki winced when Kaoru pinched the doors frame by Kizaki’s head apart in by inch. It was a warning of what extremes Kaoru was willing to go to to get what he desired.

“She’s my soulmate, Kizaki. My mother sent her to me…”

“But she doesn’t love you-“

“I’m sure in time she will… she’ll love me with time.” Kizaki felt a chill run down his spine at the look in Kaoru’s eyes. He’s lost it… Hanayama Kaoru has officially lost it.

If Kizaki has talked to him more would he have ended up a better man? If he had paid more attention to Kaoru’s silent cries for help, would it have made a difference? No… Kaoru was too far gone to reason with.

It didn’t matter what Kizaki said or did, Kaoru was going to have his way.

Because what the boss wanted… the boss got.

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“Marry me.” Kaoru got down on one knee in front of (your name) at the front of her door. His men behind him to prevent her from running. “Marry me and I swear I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

(Your name) was speechless. Kaoru was undeterred from her lack of response and her gentle rejections. This man was not going to take no as an answer…

“Kaoru… I-“ Kaoru stood up and slipped the extravagant ring, that somehow fit perfectly, on her ring finger.

“It would be wise to accept me, lest you want something horrible to happen to Kizaki.” Now he was resorting to threats and force to get what he wants… how lovely. He was smart to exploit her weaknesses, she’d give him that.

(Your name) held his hand and leaned her head into his chest. If he wanted her to play pretend then she was willing to. Anything to prevent Kizaki from being harmed.

Kaoru softly smiled at her submission. He knew she’d see things his way… that’s what soul mates did…

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Being forced to marry your lover’s boss was not something (your name) ever thought she’d be doing but here she was…

She was dressed to the nines in an elegant white dress that felt much like that of pretty wrapping paper than an article of clothing. Her wrists tied expertly together with a pristine white silk ribbon around her bouquet of roses.

The aromatic scent of the flowers she once admired mocking her for her misfortune. If she hadn’t loved the flower of love so much, would she be in this situation? Or would she be getting married to the love of her life, Kizaki, instead?

(Your name) sighed, pulling her bound wrists up to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. Kizaki wasn’t powerful enough to do anything to convince his boss that this was wrong… and Kaoru made sure to threaten her into marrying him. Marry him or Kizaki will die. Of course she chose the first option… she’d do anything for Kizaki.

Two armed guards came in to escort her to her wedding. She obediently went with them. It’s not like she had a choice in this matter. She didn’t even get to pick her dress or the venue. This was all an orchestration of Kaoru’s ‘devotion’ to her.

The man was a control freak with mommy issues. Kaoru was unhinged but in a classy way. At least she’s be wined and dined while he goes on some delusional rant of her being his soulmate.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Imagine that it’s Kizaki at the alter and don’t make a scene.

And for awhile, it worked. She pretended it was Kizaki she was saying her vows to. That it was Kizaki who hungrily pressed his lips against hers. That it was Kizaki who swung her over his shoulders like a heathen- there was no pretending that this was Kizaki. Kizaki would never treat her so savagely, so barbarically. There was no gentleness in Kaoru’s haste to own her.

(Your name) knew in Kaoru’s eyes, she was a possession. A trophy. A plunder.

Especially with the way Kaoru threw her onto the bed like a ragdoll for their wedding night. His hands excitedly untying the knots he had made prior to her wrists.

“I can’t wait any longer… I’ve gotten you such a wonderful wedding gift too…”

That’s when Kaoru opened the closet door to reveal Kizaki bound and gagged to a chair. The poor man in perfect view of the bed. He wouldn’t… Kaoru couldn’t possibly think of doing something so cruel.

And that’s when he began to tear off his clothes like a child opening a gift on Christmas Day. The ripping of fabric and snapping of buttons echoing throughout the room. This was happening… this was going to happen.

Kizaki screamed through the gag, tears falling from his eyes. (Your name) squeezing her eyes shut when he removed the last article of his clothing. The bed dipped under his weight as his body joined her on her cushioned cage.

“My darling wife… tonight I’m going to show you how much a man can truly love a woman.”

(Your name) nodded her head to try to shake away her tears. She knew there was nothing she could do against this mountain of a man. Not if she wanted her beloved to live. So she would pretend again… she would pretend the man who was ripping apart her dress was Kizaki. That it was Kizaki’s hands grasping at her flesh so excitedly.

Her eyes never left Kizaki’s as Kaoru’s lips began to suck and bite down her neck and onto her chest. His hand guiding one of hers to his chest.

“Can you feel how my heart beats for you?” Kaoru asked softly like he was your lover instead. Like he wasn’t the man who threatened to kill the man you loved for you to accept him. “You make me feel so alive…”

(Your name) shivered when Kaoru slowly dragged her hand lower and lower. His dark eyes not leaving her eyes once during this act.

His breath hitching when the soft skin of her hands lightly grazed his hip.

“Please… pay attention to me.” Kaoru whispered, his lips pressed firmly in the junction of her neck. “Look at me and only me… look at your husband. At your life partner…”

It wasn’t long before she laid out completely bare in front of him. His lips salaciously covering every inch of her skin that he could. Tiny red marks in their wake from him nipping at her with his teeth.

He still held her hand in his as he stroked himself with her soft palms. His size was impressive… intimidating even. She wasn’t sure if he was going to fit in her.

Kaoru has her hand guide him to her entrance. The fat, bulbous tip kissing her lips gently as he lined himself up.

“You’re so beautiful… my beautiful wife.” Her head is thrown back when he begins his assault. Kaoru sheathing himself deep inside of her in one thrust. His sheer size causing her stomach to bulge. He was so big… bigger than any man she’s ever been with before.

“Oh god!” She cried out, her nails leaving angry red crescents on Kaoru’s back, the man smirking at her reaction. She’s never been stretched like this… never had someone make her feel… “so full…”

Kaoru smirked, his hips slowly rocking into hers. “I’m not even all the way in yet and you’re already a mess under me… what a perfect wife you are.”

Kizaki could only watch as Kaoru began snapping his hips into (your name)‘s. Her gasps and whines shamefully turning him on. Kizaki felt so ashamed watching her being railed by another man.

(Your name) could feel her eyes roll back when Kaoru threw her legs over his shoulders to go even deeper.

“So tight… so perfect.” Kaoru sung her praises, his hips moving faster as she cried out.

Kaoru moved his hand to push down on the bulge on her stomach, the poor girl coming undone in an instant. Kaoru’s face lighting up.

“You’re mine.” Kaoru chanted like a mantra. This man was insane. Absolutely insane… but she couldn’t deny that she’s never been sexually satisfied like this before. Kaoru knew what he was doing.

When he grabbed her hips and angled her up, she came undone again. A smirk was on his lips the entire time. It disappeared once he noticed her trying to look over at Kizaki again.

“No one’s ever made you feel like this before have they?” Kaoru asked, a finger reaching across and harshly pinching her nipple. A strangle cry escaping her lips, her eyes now on Kaoru again. “There we go. Look at me. Look at your husband.”

Kaoru firmly pressed his lips to hers as his hips began to stutter. Insane ramblings and sweet nothings were mixed together to form gibberish out of his mouth. The only word that she could understand from him was “mine.”

She felt his muscles go taut and she watched as he bit his lip to try to silence the loud groan that escaped his lips. Kaoru pulled out just in time, his sticky essence coating her stomach and collarbone.

Kaoru then slumped on top of her, pressing messy kisses all over her cheeks and jaw.

Her eyes turned over to look at Kizaki who was still crying but the stain between his legs was evident of what had happened… Kizaki had gotten off to watching her be railed by Kaoru…

“My beautiful wife… I promise to take care of you for the rest of our days.” Kaoru fondly mumbled in her ear. “You’re my world.”

(Your name)’s eyes never left Kizaki’s as she drowned out Kaoru. “I love you…” she whispered softly before Kaoru was on top of her again for the next round.

It seems Kaoru wasn’t going to stop until she understood that she was his… until she directed those three words towards her.

“I can’t have you telling another man you love him, dear.” Kaoru chuckled, his lips pressed firmly to hers. “You’re mine.”

#tw.dubcon #baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki #yandere imagine #female reader #yandere #yandere fic #hanayama kaoru #kaoru hanayama #kaoru hanayama x reader #baki kaoru hanayama #baki hanayama #Baki Kizaki #forced marriage #TW.forced marriage #tw.voyeurism

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER SEVEN)

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CHAPTER SEVEN: "The souvenirs of a lost country, the hope of a promised land. This divorce between the woman of her life-"

@crazycatlddy

A scar is apart of the wound repair system in the skin, Being a natural part of the healing process. Things such as stabbings or slices are known to leave rather large and noticeable marks.

"Okay.. So start from the beginning, Take your time and make sure to be as detailed as you can!"

A wooden chair dragged forward with a screech towards the side of the bed, Mitsuri promptly sat herself down on it. Front facing the chair and her head resting on the backrest with a happy-go-lucky grin.

It was early morning, The warm sun only hung just over the distance.

Tender white clouds were woven on the far horizon leaving the rest of the elysian blue clear as acrylic glass. The windows were open in the butterfly mansion to let a feather-like breeze float its way into the room.

A sharp ray of sunlight was brought in too, Shedding light into the unlit room. Particles of dust and fluff floating through were made lucent in the shine as it overlooked the two women.

Mitsuri clicked her pen and readied her notepad with a happy hum.

The chartreuse of her irises were speckled with a star-like glow, A kind of glow that hadn't been present in weeks and burned like the sun.

Maika could near feel it's tender yet scalding warmth when she looked up from her bed as the woman spoke again.

"Go on now! Make sure to not leave anything out, Okay?" Mitsuri spoke with a peppy outgoing tone, One that contradicted her previous demeanour when Maika first greeted her. The bags that were under here eyes were gone along with the mess of her strawberry locks, Now neatly tied into nicely made braids.

Maika clicked her tongue, Trying to recollect her thoughts.

"Well.. It all started when I traversed down to the village in search of herbal medicines. [F/N]-sama had chest pains at the time and we were out of any remedies so I had volunteered to go and get some for her.." She started. A hand was rested on her chin in an mime of thought.

Mitsuri nodded and hummed, Quickly scribbling down something onto the paper in front of her.

"Go on!" She pipped, Continuing to write.

Maika nodded.

"At the time I had brought a Kakushi with me on [F/N]-sama's orders.. We had gotten down to a stall and the merchant and the Kakushi got into a fight. When I backed off.. I.. I was suddenly yanked into an alleyway." Maika said as her eyebrows lowered.

Mitsuri raised her eyes over the notepad, Proceeding to write yet her attention partly dragged itself to Maika at the light of new information.

"It was.. It was Uppermoon six, I.. H-He held me by neck and asked me about the Kakushi I was with.." Maika's voice grew softer as she recalled the memories.

Mitsuri clicked her pen and nodded.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. It must of been awful for you being in that kind of situation, I can barely imagine it myself!" Mitsuri laughed airily, A way of trying to breaking the tension "The new Uppermoon six was mentioned in the report filed by Himejima-san, What happened next? If it's too much we can try this again in ten minutes?"

Maika looked back up at Mitsuri, Obligation already present in her eyes.

"No! No.. I want to be of help, I want to make sure I can tell you everything while its still fresh in my mind." She rebutted, The fire in her eyes didn't quite match Mitsuri's but that didn't mean it didn't put up a fight.

Mitsuri's smile spread.

"Kyah~! You're really admirable, Heihachiro-san. I appreciate your determination a lot you know." Mitsuri squealed, Voice sweet as parfait.

A faded flush rose up on Maika's cheeks, She smiled shyly.

"T-Thanks.. Well.. Anyways, I was able to escape by stabbing him in the neck with the Kaiken all of the shrine-maidens carry around.. I ran out into the street and met up with the Kakushi.. Not for long though as the Uppermoon quickly caught up to us." Maika said.

"And how did you escape?" Mitsuri queried, Leaning further towards her.

Maika inhaled, Taking in a deep breath.

"Well, Before I did he attacked me. Sliced me on the back and injured me pretty badly.. The Kakushi was able to distract him and he ordered me to run. I didn't want to but I had no other choice, So I did.. I ran off into the mountain" Maika replied.

Mitsuri followed up her explanation with a quick squiggle onto the notepad, A single brow comically furrowed while she sung a quick song under her breath.

"The Kakushi.. Right! And after that you were able to make it all the way back to the shrine in time to see [F/N]?" Mitsuri asked once more. The fire in her eyes stoked as soon as she mentioned the name.

Maika paused for a second, Trying to recall what happened. The entire thing was a snowy blur, The mist on the mountain that day was now clouding her memories as she looked back with a hazy eye.

"Erm.. I.. I can't remember how I got back, The most I remember was a general direction and a will to live I guess.." Maika chuckled. "But before I knew it I was there, And suddenly a a wall collapsed onto me. I don't know how much time passed after that but next I know there was Fujimori-sama and the demon fighting."

Mitsuri's breath hitched. The point after she had been dragged off by Seijun, The point where everything fell into obscurity. None of fact or knowledge but instead theory and assumption.

[F/N] was eaten, That was the general consensus. It was one that made Mitsuri feel sickened, One that made her keel over and her head spin. It was the only rational explanation due to the body being missing. It was the only reasonable one because there was no one there to see it happen.

No one except Maika.

"They had been fighting for a while it looked like. Eventually it reached this sort of peak and Fujimori-sama went in for a neck slice.."

"And..?" Mitsuri mumbled, Leaning even forward on baited breath as she waited for Maika to finish.

"And.. And.. The demon cut open her stomach, [F/N].. She fell to the ground next to me, Laying against the wall bleeding out…" Maika spoke softy, Sensing it would be a tough topic for the woman perched over her bedside.

Mitsuri's smile gradually turned into a frown as the maiden spoke, Her lip trembled as it morphed into a frown. She steadied her breathing when it picked up once more, Keeping a steady rhythmic flow in her lungs.

A demon actually able to defeat [F/N]? Unheard of! If Mitsuri was told so a few months ago she would of waved it off as heresy. But now with everything that's happening, It didn't sound so unbelievable now.

She had been injured badly by the sounds of it. Cutting open her stomach Maika said, The mere thought made Mitsuri bite her tongue. It was worded like it was fatal but..

"Yes.. Yes I see.. But you said that [F/N] is alive.. R-Right?" Mitsuri's voice quivered.

Maika paused for a second before slowly nodding.

"I had lost a lot of blood at that point so it's a little fuzzy but I had went over to her side to see if she's okay.. Fujimori told me to hide myself in the rubble.. I did as she said and a few moments later the demon had came out from the smoke." Maika said.

Mitsuri clicked her pen once more, Her cheery attitude before had dissolved into something more serious as the conversation took a darker tone. She wrote down a few more sentences, Dotting down what Maika said with careful importance.

"He had walked up to her, He.. He went on some long-winded rant I think.. Insulting him and.. And her haori, Yes.. He took interest in her haori." Maika said. The entire thing was fresh in her mind yet it felt so underdeveloped inside.

"And..?" Mitsuri prodded

"And then he went to take off her mask.. It.. I don't know how it happened but suddenly Fujimori-sama had became [F/N].. I.. It happened in a blink of an eye, But then.. Then the demons entire demeanour just.. Changed.." Maika said.

"How so?"

"The way he felt.. It was so intimidating before, It felt powerful and.. And absolutely terrifying but once he had lain his.. eyes.. On her face he just.. He reached out and cupped her cheek then he just.. Started crying." Maika explained.

As she spoke disbelief was flooding her voice like a broken dam, Mitsuri felt washed away by it too. What Maika said? It didn't make sense..

"He was silent then.. He screamed, It was so loud and guttural it.. It sounded so painful and animalistic then he just picked her up and held her in his arms. Suddenly Uppermoon six was summoned to him and then they just left.. With her in the arms of that demon." Maika mumbled.

Mitsuri at this point was stunned speechless, The scribbling on the notepad had stopped a good while ago in favour of processing this new information. A demon, One that seemed to have some authority over another Uppermoon.. What changed once he unmasked her?

A demon crying was near unheard of, Only in their last moments were they ever reported to show such emotion. Did the demon recognise [F/N]? But how? Mitsuri knew her better than anyone, If she had any contact with a demon she would of known.

But to be fair, Her failing to know was how she was in this situation in the first place. Mitsuri couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry but.. After that I don't remember much, I.. I might of passed out but all I know now is that I'm here, Explaining what happened to you.." Maika murmured. While she knew she explained most of what she knew a part of her ruminating in her chest felt as if it wasn't enough, As if it wasn't helpful at all.

Mitsuri shook her head.

"No, No! Don't be sorry, You've been extremely helpful and I'm so glad that you're okay. I'm just gonna ask one or two more questions and then I'll be out of your hair, Thank you so much!" Mitsuri comforted.

Her hand snaked over to Maika's which lain limp by her bedside, Mitsuri's fingers wrapped around Maika's palm and held it with a tight yet comforting grasp.

"Right.. That's fine.." Maika smiled lightly, It was nice to get some reassurance after everything's events.

"Alright.. So the demon in question, Could you please explain to me what he looked like?" Mitsuri asked.

Maika squinted her eyes, Trying to get a good picture of the culprit in her mind. He was the kind of demon who could be mistaken for human on first glance but a few details stuck out immediately like a dandelion in an orchid field.

Maika rubbed her chin, Piecing the portrait together.

"Well.. He was tall, Erm.. Human looking, Spiky ponytail, Hakama and purple kimono.. Uhm.. Ah-" Maika shot up, Seemingly remembering something. "Right.. Right, How could I forget.. He had six eyes. I.." Maika trailed off suddenly lost in thought. Mitsuri flipped a page in her notepad and jotted down the description of the assailant.

Powerful, Definetly, Especially if he could take down [F/N]. Being able to defeat her spoke miles in strength.

"Six eyes?" Mitsuri asked.

"Yes.. Yes and- OH!" Maika exclaimed, Taking a loud gasp which instantly made her start to cough up from the sudden jerk of her body.

"What, What's wrong?" Mitsuri asked, Squeezing Maika's hand in a futile attempt to console her sudden outburst. Maika wheezed lightly, Fixing her breath and speaking with a hoarse voice.

"T-There was kanji in his eyes, He wasn't just any demon.. He was Uppermoon one." She rasped, The hand holding Mitsuri's squeezed tighter as he free hand moved up to her throat to check.

Mitsuri paused mid inhale. Her eyelids expanding at the final syllable as she stared down at Maika, Seemingly mulling over the information as it started to churn in her head.

She made no movement for only a moment, All before slowly nodding.

Uppermoon one. [F/N] was kidnapped by Uppermoon one.

It seemed ridiculous, It seemed like a pipe dream with smoke rising up in the air, Easily wafted away by the stroke of a hand. Mitsuri wanted it to be a result of mistake or blood loss, An accursed mirage caused by delirium.

But it added up. The demon was able to wage victory against [F/N], Uppermoon six seemed subservient to him and everything Maika had testified thus far made sense. Mitsuri didn't want it to be true.

But she took a deep breath, Held it for a moment before exhaling out. But she needed to accept the reality. According to Maika, Her best friend was kidnapped by Uppermoon one. For what reason she didn't know and dearly wanted to.

"Right, Okay.. I.. I see. Thank you so much for your help, I can't express how much I appreciate this, Heihachiro-chan!" Mitsuri warbled. Her same peppy smile rising back on her face as she got up from her chair. She placed the paper and pen into her obi, A makeshift pocket.

"I'll leave you to rest now, I truly hope you make a full recovery soon! Take care, Okay?" Mitsuri quickly bowed down in a polite gesture of gratitude, Hand slipping away from Maika's as they went down to her knees.

Maika nodded.

"Alright then.. Stay safe!" Maika called out to Mitsuri as she walked away, Already at the door The Love Hashira turned back and waved her farewells.

"Bye, Bye!" Was the last thing she said before stepping out the door and shutting it behind her, Leaving Mitsuri alone within the long winding hallways of the butterfly mansion.

As soon as the door shut with a resounding click! she was left only to hear the loud noise of the silence.

Mitsuri propped herself up against the door, Back hitting the maple and supporting her up like a harness. She breathed in and out, Trying her best to keep the rhythmic beat of her heart to a minimum.

But it was fruitless. Mitsuri's cheeks grew a shade of blossom, Her hands slapping the sides of her face as she squealed in euphoria.

She pushed herself up from the door. Mitsuri couldn't contain the sheer exhilaration pumping through her bloodstream as she spun around, A way to exert the happiness as her braids trailed behind her gliding movements.

[F/N] was alive. She was really alive.

Her attempt had failed. Mitsuri knew that it wasn't completely confirmed, The demon had taken her, What happened after was a mystery. But if he had taken her he must of wanted her alive for some reason, Right?

Mitsuri paused in her movements, The smile on her face near ear to ear as she tried to cool down the inferno of her blush.

"Mitsuri-chan!"

A voice called out from down the hallway, Snapping Mitsuri out of her ecstasy and guiding her head to the left.

Shinobu walked down the passageway, Head held high with a small smile and glossy eyes as they spied Mitsuri. She looked content, Yet Mitsuri could see the curious gleam under the morning light.

"Shinobu-chan!" Mitsuri greeted, Prancing lightly over towards Shinobu and stopping in front of the shorter woman with a swing in her step and her hips as she stood in front of Shinobu.

"Mitsuri, You're in a good mood." Shinobu commented, Cocking her head to the side.

Mitsuri hummed lightly.

"Really? Is it that obvious…? Oh who am I kidding, Of course it is!" Mitsuri exclaimed, Jumping up and down on the spot as she hummed. Shinobu smiled in return, The change in mood from yesterday was drastic.

It was good, She seemed to be back to her old self. Though there was a reply to that observation, Only one thought going through Shinobu's mind at the moment.

But at what cost?

"I suppose Heihachiro-san had some good news?" Shinobu queried to which Mitsuri quickly nodded.

"Yeah! Well.. As good as it can be I guess but the main thing is that [F/N] is alive! I feel so happy right now, I just can't contain it!" Mitsuri grinned, Swaying her hips side to side.

Shinobu clicked her tongue.

"Do you mind giving me the rundown?" She asked.

"Ah, Yes.. Hold on!" Mitsuri nodded quickly. Her hand instantly stuffed itself in the side of her obi and tried to fish out something stuffed inside it. Shinobu wondered to herself why on earth she was holding things in there before Mitsuri pulled out a little notepad and pen.

"Here you go!" Mitsuri announced, Holding out the notepad out to Shinobu to take with a grin. Shinobu took the item into her hands and started to flick through the pages.

Mitsuri watched on as Shinobu looked through her writing, Mumbling out the words as she read the scribbled writing. Shinobu raised a brow as she reached the end of the verse.

"Kidnapped? By Uppermoon one of all demons.." Shinobu gawked, Eyes fixed to the sentences as she read it over a second time.

"Great, Right?" Mitsuri responded with glee, A reply that felt unfitting for the news of her best friend being maimed and whisked away by one of the most elusive figures within the slayer's world.

Shinobu's brows lowered.

"Mitsuri-chan.. If what your reporting is true then you do understand the implications of her kidnapping, Correct?" Shinobu inquired. But by the looks of Mitsuri's slowly shrinking smile, Shinobu didn't even need the answer she gave.

"Of course I do, But don't you get it? [F/N] is alive, She's not dead! It's good news, Don't you see?" Mitsuri said, The gleeful spark in her voice seemed to dim only a little bit. It was still present yet it definetly faded.

Shinobu sighed.

"Yes, I do. But she was taken for a reason. What if she was taken for information, What if she was being tortured-"

Shinobu cut herself off, Pausing to find the right words to say.

"..What if she has been turned into a demon, What will you do then?" Shinobu asked lowly, Her voice only kept between them. The prospect of [F/N] being turned into a demon was a real possibility, If she was then the indications would not look good. Both for the two of them and the demon slayer corps themselves.

Mitsuri looked at Shinobu dead in the eyes, The malachite hues shone under the sun. Near burning with fire of the same calibre.

"Then I guess I'll just need to ask where Tanjiro-san got his box." Mitsuri replied so casually that it took Shinobu off guard, The corners of her lips quirking if only for a moment before turning back into that same porcelain smile.

"I see.." Was all Shinobu said as Mitsuri walked past her, Off to somewhere Shinobu didn't know. Mitsuri turned back to Shinobu, Giddy grin reappearing on her face.

However when Mitsuri's shoulder brushed past Shinobu's, She stopped in her tracks. Her face was unable to be seen by the shorter woman, Her eyes not looking back at Mitsuri's.

"I failed [F/N] once, Shinobu… I'm not going to fail her again, Never.. Never ever again." Mitsuri whispered.

That was all she said, Footsteps picking back up as she walked down the hallway.

"We'll talk soon, Have a good day Shinobu-chan!" She called out, Then turned the corner and walked away.

☆♡☆

The silence reverberating down the hallways was nigh-unbearable, A drone that stopped at a stand still and seemed to never continue on.

The sawdust scent burned at the tip of [F/N]'s nose, Her eyes wide and aware of the demon in front of her. His presence catching her off guard, Not expecting to see another soul wandering about the confines of her birdcage.

Upper three appeared to share the sentiment, His face mimicking her own expression perfectly if not for the demonic features prominent on his visage. Sharp fangs shining under the light, Cracked glass eyes that seemed to burn into her and sharp navy stripes wrapping around his entire body.

"You.. What are you doing here?"

His voice called out, Slightly echoed within the high walls of the corridor. It sounded fairly deep, A hint of a boyish tone under the serious and accusing hiss near spat out from his throat.

[F/N] stared him down. The sharp inhale she took stuck in her lungs as she looked over him, Judging his stature to his clothing all the way to the angles that made up his cruel face.

But.. She didn't feel scared.

Kokushibo felt like a firm hand of authority, A dark presence that just dripped in power. It was one that could make any person tremble in fear regardless of status, The sheer aura that radiated from his soul made [F/N]'s insides turn and want to puke.

But it was different with this one. He didn't command authority or did he have any overwhelming presence (At least, Not for someone like [F/N]). While it was powerful in its own right it instead felt more accusing than anything, And strangely enough it didn't feel threatening or dangerous.

It infact felt similar. The first impression of his looks and the read she got off of his aura reminded her a lot of certain boys from her childhood, One's which memories made Goosebumps raise up on her skin and her fingers itch in irritation.

And they were something she could handle.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" [F/N] responded, Folding her arms and trying to keep up a tough demeanour in front of him to try and hold some ground. The annoyance in her voice a second-nature to the demon's behaviour.

She thought she was alone here, That it was just her and her captor but now as [F/N] glared at him she now knew that it wasn't the case.

The demon's nose scrunched up at her response, Offended at her audacity to ask her of such. His teeth started to bare a little more, Gums barely showing out from under his dry lips with his eyes narrowing to a sharp tipped glare.

"Do not question me, What are you doing here? Who are you? This place isn't meant for any kind of human being, How did you get in here?" He hissed, Taking a single slow step towards her, One that echoed out from the sheer weight.

[F/N] backed up foot in tandem with him, Keeping them both at equal distance. She pinched her temple, Groaned once before mumbling under her breath a string of curses.

"Okay.. Number one, I don't even want to be here. Number two, My name is [F/N] Fujimori" She started.

"Number three, I don't even know how I was brought here, I don't even know where 'here' is so if you could enlighten me then that would be great!" [F/N] replied, Mimicking the demon's hiss in a sarcastic mockery yet it held the dragging undertone of desperateness.

[F/N] didn't even know where she found the guts to speak to upperrank three like this, She figured it was probably the built up agitation from the past few.. Well, She had no idea how long it had been. She only knew the mix of anger, Hopelessness and melancholy fester inside her like an illness.

The demon gawked, Maybe it was at the new information provided to him or maybe it was the gall she had to speak to him that way. Either way however, He felt his own agitation start to match hers.

"You are in the Infinity Castle, The demons headquarters. How a weak human woman like you got in here without even wanting to is a joke." The demon responded through gritted teeth, Eyeing her up and down.

How some weak looking human woman got into the infinity castle baffled him. As soon as he turned around the corner and spotted her he felt a jolt of surprise shock his dead heart. What he would do he didn't know, This was a woman and as such physical violence is out of the picture.

"The.. The Infinity castle. The demons headquarters." [F/N] repeated back to him. "A joke, Does it look like I'm laughing?" She said, Leaning in a little bit to emphasise her mockery.

"This is not funny, How you got in here is a major security risk and a threat to you and us. So tell me now what the hell you did to get in here?" The demon snarled.

Even though his tone was venomous he hadn't made a move to attack or even touch her in any way, Just limited to threats and demanding tones. It was unusual behaviour for who she would assume would be upper three, But deemed it safe to continue.

"I have no idea how I got here! I was kidnapped!" [F/N] exclaimed, Throwing her hands up in the air as an overdramatic gesture.

"Kidnapped? By who?!" He interrogated.

"Oh! I don't know.. Uppermoon one, Perhaps?" [F/N] hissed, Taking a foot forward to get up in his face. [F/N] bit back her tongue, Wondering if she had went too far once his face fell. But she kept up her guard and her mask, Stand your ground.

"You were kidnapped by Uppermoon one?" He repeated, Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"Correct."

Upperrank three stood silent, The two of them were only separated by half a foot. His nose was still scrunched up in what looked to be a mixture of disgust and disbelief, One that she'd been wearing a lot herself recently.

He took a single step back, One that made the old floorboard creak within the quiet passage.

"Why would.." He mumbled lowly under his breath, More to himself then to her.

"It's complicated." [F/N] responded, Huffing lightly.

The demon looked back up at her. It seemed as if the shards in his eyes and the amber hue of his kanji stained irises were sizing her up, It was similar in the way how you would square up your opponent in a fight. Examining every muscle, Checking the chances of victory.

"So why aren't you killing me?" [F/N] asked. Even though his stare radiated that of an adversary, He made no move to fight. A behaviour [F/N] wouldn't assume of the upper rank three.

"What?" The question she asked seemed to make the demon break out of his train of thought.

"Why aren't you trying to kill me, Before you knew I was brought here. You're upper three right? So.." [F/N] trailed off in her sentence, Seeing that he had already gotten the meaning to her question.

The demon groaned.

"I don't kill or raise my hand against women, Even if I did I wouldn't waste it against a weak human being like you." He retorted, Folding his arms in a display of what only could be described by [F/N] as a faux show of morals.

[F/N] sighed, The one time her mask would be really useful. The one time when she would really need it. He wouldn't harm her as a woman, He wouldn't kill her as a woman. In other words that was off the table.

Why was it that every time she got that one chance it would be ruined by some bullshit reason? It seemed like every turn there would be some curveball thrown to stop her path. It was irritating to say the least.

"Ugh.. Whatever you say I guess. Have your principles or.. Something, I don't know. I'm just gonna go find somewhere else to wander about in.." [F/N] grumbled, Scratching the back of her neck and turning around to start trotting off to wherever "somewhere else" was.

The demon 'tched. He watched her drag her feet down the hall, Shoulders slumped and a grumpy far-away gaze. As she turned the corner he was left with an assortment of questions.

Kokushibo, Uppermoon one. Why would he kidnap her? Was it on the orders of his master? Maybe.. But if that was the case Akaza suspected that both him and Douma would of been informed of her bounty.

Was Kokushibo doing this on his own volition? Unlikely.. But not impossible. He was loyal to a fault to that man, Even to the point of fanatisism. But what if he was keeping her here by his own will?

Akaza didn't like it when women were harmed in any way, He had to ball up his fists when the other Uppermoons talked about their deeds towards them. It irked him, It gave him curiosities and questions.

Ones that built up on his tongue and were dying to spill out.

Akaza clenched his teeth and turned back towards the stairs.

It's better to keep his nose out of whatever's happening here, For now at the very least. This didn't involve him and if Kokushibo wanted her dead then he would of already done the deed.

☆♡☆

The obsidian black shade of the nights sky loomed over the small village. Dotted with glittering specks like eyes looking down at the mortal plane.

It was quiet, The only sound was the light rustle of tree leaves in the cold midnight wind passing by. It swept over the low valley the silent town sat atop of, A chill running down the spine of whoever may come in its way.

Not that they would. The houses and the buildings, The restaurants and the streets were all completely empty.

Candles went unlit, Light usually emanating from behind the windows didn't show up tonight. Bowls full of fresh food sat on top of restaurant tables went untouched, Stuffed animals played with by children went abandoned.

There was no sign of life at all in this village, None except for one.

Slow footsteps clad in well-made leather shoes wandered the empty streets. The sound reverberated along the wooden panels of the houses the man passed. The moon sat high signalling midnight, The soft rays shining down on his form.

Muzan paused. The golden laced waistcoat and blouse he wore was in pristine form, Perfect to the very last fold in fabric. No stain or spot to be found once he stopped in his steps.

"Kokushibo."

His calm voice sung out into the silent night. He didn't even need to turn around to know that he was behind him, Kneeling down in respect and honour before him.

"Muzan-sama." Kokushibo replied. He was kneeling down, Head tilted towards the ground to bare his neck amongst his hair. Kokushibo made no move to get up from his position, The two parted by a good few metres.

Muzan turned around to face the Uppermoon. His scarlet eyes scanned over him, Veins visible in his irises as he stared. His face was hardened with a cold expression, Yet it seemed more relaxed compared to that of how he treated someone such as Akaza or especially Douma.

It was more trusting, If you could even call it that in the first place.

"I assume you know why you have been called today" Muzan questioned. Wine stained eyes waiting for his subordinate's answer.

Kokushibo was silent. His body still before his master, Crouched down he mulled over his reply. He infact did know, He had been expecting this for a good while. However how he would explain was still something he had no clue on how to phrase.

"Yes.. I believe this is about the Kakushi base.. That me and Uppermoon six got into a few weeks ago.." He answered. Head raising up from the ground slowly so his amber hues could meet the maroon of the progenitors.

Muzan hummed.

"Correct. I believe that you were able to destroy the main base of operations there" Muzan asked, Tilting his head to the side in question. Urging him to go on.

"I was able to destroy the entire base.. Yes." Kokushibo confirmed, Letting Muzan nod slightly at his response.

He walked a little closer to the Uppermoon, A single step echoing softly from within the confines of the silent village.

"And what exactly were you able to get out of it?" Muzan queried once more. The question of the century. Both Muzan and Kokushibo were on more levelled ground compared to the other Uppermoons, Even going as far as to calling Kokushibo his near equal, A business partner of sorts.

The keyword is 'near', However. Kokushibo was loyal to him like a dog, Fanatic and subservient by choice. Even though he had the decision of being a kind of contracted servant he had denied this in choice of full compliancy and order.

That's why it was so hard to explain what Kokushibo had done on instinct, For once in his long life he felt himself speechless in front of him. While Muzan could very well peer into the caverns of his mind and take a look for himself, Due to Kokushibo's high standing it was a sign of respect not to.

Either way, Kokushibo knew what he had to say.

"..While in the midst of destroying the base I came face to face with that slayer you had informed us about.. The one who slew one thousand." Kokushibo started, Slowly getting up from his kneel to stand on his two legs while he explained.

Muzan's thin lips morphed into a small frown at the remembrance of the slayer.

"And I assume you were able to take care of him?" Muzan asked. Kokushibo didn't respond for a second, Making his master's eyes narrow in suspicion.

"No.. This is where it gets more complicated.. And where I selfishly ask for you to lend your ear.." He trailed off for only a second, But the words that came before rose a narrow eyebrow on Muzan's face.

"Why? Did you not succeed in killing him? Of all the Uppermoons I did not expect you to fail against a slayer.." Muzan commented, A comment which he knew would strike Kokushibo right where it hurts and it showed in how he subtly clenched the hem of his haori.

Muzan, He always had a way to dig into the insecurities of the people around him both Human and demon. An off-handed comment or a simple look was enough for him to have his claws on whoever he targeted. And the pride festering in Kokushibo was absolutely no exception.

"..No, I was able to take the slayer down.. However.. Whilst I was about to kill him.." Kokushibo trailed off once more. An oddity of the Uppermoon, The usual calm and unbothered demeanour was absent and instead replaced with a hesitant drawl.

Muzan took a few strides forward towards the taller man, His steps reverberating against the derelict streets. Kokushibo didn't falter an inch once his master reached out a hand, Two bony fingers extended to press on the temples of the Uppermoon.

Kokushibo stood silent, Jaw locked as he felt a sudden surge of energy come from between his eyes. A searing shock, He could feel the sensation of prying eyes into his memories like claws combing through an archive.

It pulsated. Kokushibo felt as if his head was cracked open, Brain on display for Muzan to see as his fingers removed themselves from Kokushibo's temples.

Muzan took a step back, His action finished as he stared up at his subordinate with an unreadable expression to the normal eye but Kokushibo could see the irritation arising from him. He hummed, Eyebrows tightly knitted together.

"I.. I see.. So the slayer was.." Muzan trailed off. His nose twitched in agitation, The fact that the slayer hadn't died and infact turned out to be someone unexpected entirely was.. Irritating to say the least.

He didn't speak after that, So Kokushibo took the opportunity to do so.

"Respectfully.. Before you say anything more I ask of you to let me explain.." Kokushibo asked, Courteous in tone as always. Muzan looked at him, Crimson irises staring him down.

Muzan raised a hand to his chin, Clawed fingers covering his mouth in a display of thought.

"..Your sister? Ah.. Right, I remember now. The one you spoke about a few centuries ago, The one I provided you a vial of my blood for." Muzan commented, His cat-slit eyes widened slightly at the realisation.

Kokushibo nodded. The memory of that night coming back to him. The tiled rooftop at the dead of night, A night very similar to this one. Muzan had came to him with an offer, One Kokushibo just couldn't resist.

The night they stood eye to eye. The one where Muzan offered him a chance at eternal life, A chance to hone his skills and live past the dreaded age of twenty five. A way to surpass Yorichii.

Kokushibo remembered it well. Once Muzan had offered and set down the deal Kokushibo had bargained, He didn't mean to but it didn't mean he regretted it either. The words just slipped out of his mouth.

"What? Is this not enough for you? What more can I possibly offer you?"

"I ask that you provide more of your blood, Not for me. But for my sister dying of an incurable illness.. That's all I ask and then I will do whatever you ask.. Whatever you ask.."

Muzan had accepted rather easily and once the three days of transformation was up he had awoken with the vial gripped tightly in his hand. If only he had gotten back to [F/N] in time.

If only.

"Correct.. She is back with me.. I am currently keeping her in the shrine replica in the infinity castle.. I am sorry I did not ask for your permission, However due to her injuries I thought it was necessary.." Kokushibo apologised, Bowing his head down low to represent that. Muzan hummed once more.

"I am not concerned about where you are keeping the girl, I am concerned about how you were able to let an opportunity like this slip by you. The Kamado girl, Nezuko Kamado.. She was there, Was she not? Not to mention the boy with the hanafuda earrings.." Muzan replied.

The air around them seemed to grow sharper, A thick edge made of the oxygen they breathed. It turned cold, Colder than it already was. Kokushibo took a deep breath in, The boy with the hanafuda earrings, He didn't need to be reminded once more of him. How Yorichii's earrings were turned into a family heirlooms he had no idea, But he didn't want to remember right now. He'd figure out how to deal with the boy later.

But the Kamado girl, He had failed on that front. That was something he couldn't deny, He had failed to capture her in favour of saving his sister. But that didn't mean he had no more course of action.

Kokushibo raised his head, Looking at Muzan in the eyes.

"Yes.. I was unable to capture them.. Fortunately however.. Since I have brought my sister back home I have come to the belief that she is able to assist on that front.." Kokushibo started, His voice was low yet concentrated. A confident lilt.

"Since she is a Hashira.. A special kind at that.. I strongly believe she knows the whereabouts of the Ubuyashiki estate.. If I am able to get this information out of her we will most definetly be able to both take down the corps.. As well as capture the Kamado's." Kokushibo finished. Finality lifting his tone up as he stood his ground in front of Muzan.

Muzan paused. He didn't say a word.

His eyes narrowed, He appeared to be contemplating over Kokushibo's words. Mulling over his proposition, Thinking it over with utmost care. If Kokushibo was any lower in ranking or had any less respect, Muzan would of tore him to bits for his audacity to speak to him with such equality.

The silence around them was louder than any wail or scream that came after his arrival, Though it was broken once he, Muzan, Decided to speak.

"Alright then. If that is the case then I assume you'd be wanting to turn her into another demon then? You agree that it must be the best course of action, She wouldn't need to confess where it is when it can be done with a quick look into her mind, Yes?" Muzan inquired.

True, It would be incredibly easier to turn her into a demon and get the information that way. Not to mention that it would be more agreeable to Kokushibo, So much so that turning her into a demon was one of the first thoughts in his mind when he saw her again.

However..

"No.. Currently that is not an option.. With the injuries she sustained during her fight and the fact that she is a breath user.. I fear that she might die if I give her my blood right now.. Besides that.. Right now she isn't in the best of moods.. She's rather confused and in a sort of rebellious phase currently.." Kokushibo replied.

For a human to become a demon, Their blood must mix with that of Muzan's. The cells coursing throughout his bloodstream doing the job of processing them into such.

As such, Every demon has a concentration of Muzan's blood.

Especially the Uppermoons, The most powerful of the bunch. Normally Muzan would be the only demon capable of turning others, However due to the high concentration in the Upperranks blood they have gained the ability to turn others as well.

However, While the Uppermoons have a high concentration it is certainly not pure. If they were to inject their blood into a human being on a whim the person has the ability to actively fight it off similar to an illness.

It means that the transaction has to be consensual, The human has to willingly drink the blood and accept that along with the approval of Muzan himself to become one. Not to mention a breath user requires much more blood than normal due to their skills and talents.

Even if Kokushibo was to ask of pure blood from Muzan, The chance that [F/N] would be able to break free from his curse after transformation was a very real possibility. It's why Muzan occasionally asked for people to become demons instead of just outright doing it, Tamayo was a warning of what might happen.

If he attempted to turn [F/N] now, Her injuries and the amount of blood he needed to give might just kill her. Even if she survived and became a demon, Kokushibo guessed that there would be a very good chance that she would get away from Muzan's hold. And if someone like [F/N] was to break free of the curse, It would signal an issue at the very least.

It had to be consensual, Kokushibo knew that much.

"I see.. And you believe you are able to convince her of such?" Muzan asked. The proposal that Kokushibo had lain out seemed to finally click inside his head, Idea's and thoughts forming. Forgetting Kokushibo's failure entirely.

"In time, Yes.. Once she has calmed down and I have been able to resurface her memories.. I know she wouldn't mind becoming one, Then.. It is only a matter of 'doing' afterwards.." Kokushibo concluded. Muzan nodded slowly.

"Yes.. But I must ask how you believe you'll be able to 'bring back' her memories in the first place, Are you even sure she is your sister at all and not just some random human girl?" Muzan asked once more, The final question.

"There is no doubt about it.. She is my little sister. I have considered every possibility… Including the chance that she isn't who I thought.. However due to recent information coming to light my worries have disappeared.." Kokushibo said, Remembering their recent talk.

"My best theory on what happened.. Is that she has been reincarnated after a good few centuries.. How that is possible I do not know.." He finalized.

Reincarnation, Before it was something he believed was dubious at best. It was something he never considered a possibility nor had it ever been proved, Not until now. The proof was there, Hopefully waiting for his return back home.

Hopefully.

"Alright then.. I will leave you to do as such and I expect you not to fail me again. I wish you good luck in your endeavour" Muzan said, Turning away from him and beginning to stroll away.

"I appreciate it greatly, Thank you, Muzan-sama." Kokushibo bowed once more as he walked off. The cool air of the night and the now derelict village turned to nothing in his wake.

The moon stood high in the ebony black sky, Hues of faded purple and mists of scattered cloud looking down at the quiet landscape.

Kokushibo took it in, Staying there for a while. Watching as Muzan started to get further and further away until he went entirely. Disappearing on the horizon.

Kokushibo licked his lips once, The faint smell of copper and iron danced along his nose. An emptiness in his stomach, He felt hungry.

It wouldn't hurt to grab food before he got home to see [F/N] again. While it ate at him to stay away for too long, The thought of what might happen to her when he's not there bit down into him.

But he needed to tend to himself. Feed, Get stronger. Kokushibo knew that he had to find food.

Maybe he'd take her out next time, Maybe it would be nice to bring her outside and get some fresh air to calm her nerves.

Besides, She'd need to learn how to feed on human beings once she became a demon and he was more than willing to teach her, Hold her hand and guide her along on the right path, That's what a good big brother would do after all.

He'd get her to turn eventually, Becoming a demon is what's best for her. Once she calms down and regains her old memories he knew that she'd be more than willing to become a demon. Kokushibo knew that she trusted him more than anything, He knows she loves him.

He'd wear her down, While she was extraordinary in her own right she couldn't keep acting the way she has forever. [F/N] had nowhere else to go, No one but him to turn to. But then again, She'd need to feel more comfortable to regain them.

Kokushibo would figure that part out later.

With that final thought he disappeared into the night, His figure fading from view as he went to find his next meal.

☆♡☆

[F/N] warily strode down the shrine hallway.

It had been a good while after her encounter with the Uppermoon. Sure enough he hadn't walked after her or tried to search her out afterwards, It was probably better that way. He wasn't going to kill her nor was he going to help her get out of here, So it's for the better if they just ignored each other.

At least, That's what [F/N] thought anyways. As she paused at the doorframe, Leaning her bodyweight into it she looked at the soft canary light pouring in from the other side of the corner.

[F/N] layed her head against the wood, Listening to the sounds of punching and hitting something unknown. It sounded fast, Furious and determined. It was a sound she often heard back when at the corps, Memories of training sessions coming back to her.

Days she'd stay up practicing her form, Days she'd spar with her comrades and all the mistakes they laughed over. It all felt so ready in her recall.

It felt sort of nostalgic. She had only been conscious for at least two days yet it felt so far away to her, Like the mountains on the far horizon at the shrine. It was a sort of comfort, A bittersweet taste on the tip of her tongue.

As the punching sounds continued she wondered how they were doing now. [F/N] knew she wasn't very well liked as a Hashira. Even though she was somehow considered the strongest among them, It was more of her attitude that put people off.

Colleagues like Sanemi and Iguro were especially unpleasant, Uncalled for comments and snide looks were always their go to. Every time [F/N] turned up late or showed a lack of respect they would be in abundance.

Even other's like Tengen or Rengoku had something to say at points. Others like Muichiro or Giyuu didn't pay much attention at all to her, Ignoring her entirely. Shinobu was one that she had shallow conversations with in passing, She was alright.

Mitsuri, [F/N] felt bad at her name being brought up again in her mind. Why Mitsuri still stayed with her for all these years was a mystery. Was it because she felt pity? Some long lost attachment or could it be because of their pact?

Either way she deserved better, Someone that didn't keep her tethered to the ground.

The memories swam around her, They hurt a lot. A sense of dread or guilt, [F/N] couldn't tell which it was but they held onto her like a hand, They hurt so much yet [F/N] didn't want to get rid of them at all.

As the punching sounds continued she listened on, Reliving the memories in her mind. She knew that the sounds most definetly came from the demon, She recognised his voice from the grunts and yells echoing a bit away.

She also knew she shouldn't of been drawn to them. She knew she shouldn't be taking a step towards them and she was very well aware that slowly walking in their direction wasn't a good idea.

But she continued anyways. Her cautious footsteps made slow creaks on the floorboards, Where she walked was unfamiliar. One of the rare places she didn't venture into on her previous scouting mission.

It was on the first floor, Dead centre. It must of been one of the modifications Kokushibo was talking about as she didn't recognise the architecture or the layout. She walked into the very wide open double doors, The light shining through the translucent paper windows and the cracks in the dark bamboo door.

Fresh air flooded her nose. [F/N] took a few more wary steps before the light hit her face, Making her raise a hand to cover her eyes.

Once her eyes adjusted, She looked upon the scene.

Tall winding wood, Branches twisting out from the bark and bursting into arrays of beautiful green leaves that shined chartreuse under the faux light. It was a tree, It was unlike any she had saw before.

It had the long turning branches of a Japanese pine yet stood as high as a Hyperion tree, Reaching up into dark sky above. The shrine surrounded it, The middle of the second floor and the roof gone to make way for it. [F/N] could spot glistening red apples hanging down from the dark oak, Shining and ripe. Ready to eat.

The sight amazed her. How a tree was able to get that big or how it was even here in the first place was astonishing, It was impossible yet it stood before her like a tower and looked down on her like a god.

[F/N] pried her eyes away from it, Looking around at where the tree surrounded.

It was wide open and [F/N] could tell it was the courtyard, Smoothed over dirt flooring with clumps of unmown grass standing before her. The walls of the shrine acted like the fortress surrounding the shrine, Boxing it up. The jacktop walling there, This must of been where the light was coming from..

PUNCH!

[F/N] snapped her head over. With the sight of the tree and the new area around her she was completely phased out to the fighting sounds, The reason she was here in the first place.

Upperrank three was in the far corner of the courtyard, He was dead-eyed staring at what looked to be a makeshift dummy. He was beating the living daylights out of it with a fire and passion [F/N] could see from a mile away.

It was very beaten so when it flew back from his punch and hit the wall of the shrine, Parts of stuffing came loose from within the seams of it.

[F/N] watched as he stood over the dummy, Worked up fighting stance as he looked down at it like a defeated opponent. She was somewhat impressed by his determination and energy, It showed through the beads of sweat rolling down his body and his heavy breathing.

She folded her arms over her chest, The warmth of the courtyard keeping her snug as the demon picked up the destroyed dummy and set it back in place. [F/N] frowned a bit, He really did remind her of the kids she grew up with.

"Hey." [F/N] called out. A quiet mumble as she watched him jerk his head around, Obviously unexpecting the sudden presence interrupting his training session. His eyes lowered on her.

"What do you want?" He interrogated, Shoulders raised high and on guard. A frown etched deeply into his cracked lips and deathly pale skin.

[F/N] sighed. She didn't really know why she decided to come so close in the first place, It was of course due to the nostalgic noise but it wasn't exactly something that was easy to explain to a demon like him.

She kicked a small rock with her foot, Toying around with it.

"Dunno.. I don't exactly have anything to do so I guess I just wanted to come see what you were doing.." [F/N] trailed off, Looking nonchalant as she slowly paced around the small exterior.

The demon groaned, Irritated by her presence. Even though he didn't harm women it didn't mean he'd treat her with respect either. That was fine, [F/N] was fine with returning the favour.

"Do whatever you want, I don't care." He said. Turning his bare back to her and refocusing back onto the dummy, Continuing his strikes onto the patchwork of the fake figure.

He didn't pay any more attention to her, Completely forgotten as he proceeded with his training.

[F/N] stood there awkwardly, The rock she had toyed with under her foot stood still. Why she decided to come in the first place without a plan or reason, It was stupid and she chided herself for it in her head.

Clicking her tongue once she slowly made her way over to the base of the tree. The small grassy hill it was perched on holding it up as [F/N] sat down within the vegetation, Nestling herself within the exposed roots comfortably.

She dragged her knees up to her chest, Sat within the shade of the leaves she watched the demon continue with his training. It was cosy within the leaves, The cool heat like a blanket on a winter's night.

Of all the places in the mockery of her shrine this was the one that felt the most authentic, Even though it wasn't even in the original it still held that sought after amenity that none other could replicate. It was nice, It was a distraction. It wasn't cold or uncomfortable, It was just fine.

"So.. What's your name..?" [F/N] asked. She didn't even mean to let the words slip by her lips, They came out on their own. She didn't mind though, Just curled up tighter and rested her head onto her knees.

The demon didn't even flinch, Nor did he turn around.

"Akaza." Was all 'Akaza' said.

[F/N] hummed, A bit disappointed on his answer. She wondered why but supposed that being kept up in here with only Kokushibo made her hungry for other forms of social connection, And his one word answer wasn't satiating at all.

"Why are you here anyways?" [F/N] asked.

"..I come here to train, I like this place because it's quiet and has no one around to bother me with meaningless questions." Akaza jabbed, His eyes focused on the task in front of him, The one that made his soul radiate with determination and fire. Burning bright.

Ignoring the insult. A neuron clicked within [F/N]'s mind. Fire, That's it. This is the one that killed Rengoku, The one the crow had called about on that fateful morning. A hole in his stomach and the Mugen train incident.

[F/N] remembered how she got it, The crow had landed on her shoulder during a ceremonial dance. It had to be paused just so [F/N] could go check up on Mitsuri, She didn't have a personal connection to Rengoku but Mitsuri did. Him being her previous master after all.

The crow had told of their bargain, How he wanted Rengoku to become a demon, To train with him forever. Rengoku, Being an upstanding and moral man had fiercely denied leading to his death.

[F/N] felt a twinge of disgust pang in her heart, One of her colleagues and this was the man who slaughtered him. While they weren't close it still was still a tragedy to kill such a decent person, He was strong and had a good heart. And it was punched out by this demon.

"So, Akaza.. Why are you training on a dummy so much? Don't you have any other Hashira to punch a hole through?" [F/N] queried. A poorly disguised jab at him, A snide yet knowing look on her face as she watched him side-eye her.

"..How do you know about that?" Akaza asked, Throwing one more powerful punch to the dummy making it topple over onto the floor.

[F/N] shrugged.

"What, How do I know about you killing off Kyojuro a few months ago? Do I really look that weak?" [F/N] asked. Yes, That was the correct answer and the one she said in her head. She had none of her support beams like the mask and sword that made her strong, But she needed to keep up her tough exterior.

If you let it down, You will be killed. An old voice echoing in her head, One she agreed with.

Akaza breathed air out of his nose.

"Of course you do, I don't know why you were kidnapped but you're definetly not happy about it. But you're not trying to escape nor do you look like your planning on trying to.. So yes, I think you're weak." Akaza replied casually, Turning around to meet her eyes.

[F/N] exhaled, Her brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Well, I tried running but it just brought me back here! I'm.. I'm still trying real hard to get out but I'm still figuring out how." [F/N] retorted, Staring right back at him with the same energy trying to match it.

"You might be a member of the corps, However you know it doesn't matter. I can see a weak person from miles away, I feel it in my skin.. They absolutely disgust me. Sounds to me you just tried running once and then gave up, If that's not pathetic then I don't know what is." Akaza argued.

[F/N] blinked. His words cut through her like a chilling blade and left frostbite in its wake, It hit hard and made her jaw drop agape. The gall he had to call her pathetic, The gall he had to point it out. It irked her to say the least.

She put each of her hands beside her, Hauling herself up from her comfortable position she stumbled before standing on two feet. [F/N] stared him down, Huffed lightly from her perch.

"Well then, If you're so horribly disgusted by my presence then how about you just get me out of here? You don't want me here and neither do I, So you get me out of this godforsaken place and I'll be out of your hair." [F/N] argued, Exasperated and tired as she stood strong in place.

Akaza shook his head.

"No, Absolutely not. I don't know why you're here but if you were taken by Kokushibo then there must be a good reason for it, I'm not getting involved." Akaza said, Speaking his name with such acidity that she thought wisteria was in the air.

[F/N] groaned loudly, She turned around and grabbed the back of her neck with both hands. Staring up within the foliage as if communicating with the kami. She started to feel irritated, Annoyed and very angry.

"There is no reason.. There is absolutely no good reason.." [F/N] mumbled, Moving a hand round to pinch her temples tight.

"What?" Akaza asked, Not being able to hear her.

"He's keeping me here because he thinks I'm his fucking sister!" [F/N] exclaimed, Sharply turning back to Akaza and taking a few steps towards him, Indignant and irate as she stood before him.

Akaza froze, His expression going blank as he processed the information given. [F/N] sighed. The anger she had before exiting her body as she flipped round and paced a few steps away from him, Trying to let it all go.

"You.. He thinks you're what?" Akaza asked, Bafflement in every word he spoke.

"He thinks I'm his sister.." [F/N] sighed, Resting her head in her palms. Akaza stood still watching the girl a few feet away from him. She was breathing heavily. Stressed, He could tell.

"..Are you?" Akaza asked once more, Words coming from his confusion and stammer.

[F/N] sighed, Stilling in pace.

"I don't know.. I really don't know.." She mumbled. The conversation her and Kokushibo had a good while ago, It resurfaced again. The nightmare that matched up to his story, What were the chances? They were so low, Nigh if not impossible.

Everything felt so alien, So strange and weird. Her emotions were in pieces and her thoughts even more so. Was she his sister? At first there was no way, Definite deniability. But now after their communication she had no clue, None at all.

[F/N] gagged lightly, Moving her arms down to her abdomen.

Akaza looked at her, Going over every muscle and fold in the sleepwear she wore. Her hair was a mess, She seemed like she hadn't showered in ages.

What was up with her?

First this girl knew about his encounter with Rengoku, Something only corps members and his family should of known about and she did not resemble Rengoku at all. His best guess is that she is a corps member, She had no fear when he approached her and strangely enough had no fighting spirit what-so-ever. An anomaly, Something not achieved by many.

But how? She didn't look like a slayer at all, Could it just be her nature? He couldn't tell.

Secondly she claimed that she was Uppermoon one's sister and that was impossible. Kokushibo was one of the founding members from over five hundred years ago, It was improbable but.. No.. She wasn't claiming to be as such, According to her it was Kokushibo who was claiming blood relation.

That was unlike him. Kokushibo, As much as Akaza loathed him with every inch of his being couldn't deny he was of respectable standing. He was calm and thought his actions out, He was smart and most certainly of sound mind.

"So why would he.." Akaza thought out loud, Half to himself and the other to the girl a bit away from him. He waited for an answer but only watched as she keeled over, Grasping her abdomen and starting to cough violently.

Akaza's eyes widened and his body moved before his mind did, Instantly running over to her side to examine any damage.

"Hey, Hey- What the hell happened?" Akaza shouted rather agressively, Hand grabbing her shoulder and adjusting her so he could see what she was grasping tightly.

Around her mid-section was a very bloody dressing, It seemed like it hadn't been changed and whatever injury she had sustained down there had possibly came open. Maybe it was from the sudden turn she made to face him or maybe it came undone on its own.

It didn't matter, She was.. Sick.. Akaza's instincts kicked up. It was one he wasn't sure he had anymore nor was it one he knew he had in the first place but before he could think he had hoisted a single arm under her armpit, He positioned her hand to wrap around his shoulder, Supporting her entire weight.

"Fuck- Damnit.." He cursed as [F/N] groaned in pain. He started to move, One foot in front of the other as they made their way out of the courtyard, The warm light fading behind them as they got into the cold passageway of the shrine.

"Do you have anywhere you sleep?" Akaza asked, Continuing to walk along. [F/N] looked up at him, Pain erupting inside her abdomen as she spoke.

"I- Ugh..- Upstairs.. My bedroom is upstairs.." She wheezed, Another group of coughs coming up from her throat as Akaza nodded. He mumbled a confirmation under his breath and started to direct her along to the stairway.

They got to the foot of the old rickety wood steps. Akaza made no more move to speak as he silently guided her feet along, One step at a time as they slowly made their way to the second floor.

Once they got to the top, [F/N] weakly guided him towards the select room with a feeble point. As they walked [F/N] wondered why he was helping her, Why his attitude changed up so quickly once she started bleeding.

Akaza pushed open the shoji door, It slid open with ease thanks to his immense physical strength. They walked inside, [F/N] limping along with him as he laid her down on the futon. Surprisingly with a careful touch.

Akaza hissed another round of curses under his breath.

"Alright.. Don't move, I'm gonna check your injury." He spoke quickly yet he didn't make any move until [F/N] feverishly nodded, In too much agony to disagree.

Akaza moved his pale hands down to her jinbei. Before it was oversized enough to shield the dressing entirely, Making it completely unable to be seen before.

He moved it up lightly, Showing off the ruby splotched bandages wrapped around her entire mid-section. Akaza worked quickly, Slowly peeling the dressing down to get a good look at her injury.

[F/N] wailed in pain, Akaza's spare hand moved down to her shoulder to keep her in place as the injury was finally showed off to him. He gawked, It was massive. A large cut from assumedly a sword was on display.

It was stitched up to the nines. It had been sterilized yet the thing that disturbed Akaza the most was how deep it seemed to go. This injury went more than muscle deep, This went right down into her organs.

This was a fatal blow. No human being would be able to survive this, Hashira or not. Especially since something of this magnitude would be unable to heal, The muscle and skin destroyed and showing off her innards.

It was impossible to heal yet the majority of it looked good as new, There wasn't even any scarring, Not a single mark to be found. The only remainder of it being the outline of the stitches plotting out where the injury would've been.

While it still was mostly healed over, A small part of it still seemed to be in recovery. The stitches there luckily weren't open, The pain must've come from the unsettled position that it was in.

"Ugh.." [F/N] groaned as Akaza moved away. He got up from his crouched position and went over to the dresser, Near impossible to see except from his illuminated aquamarine outline from within the dark.

Akaza grabbed a fresh roll of bandages conveniently sat on top of the dresser, Walking back over to the crippled girl lying on the futon he grabbed on to the bloody bandages. Unwrapping them slowly, [F/N] moaned in agony.

"It's fine.. It's fine.." Akaza hissed lightly under his breath as he finally got off the dressing, Cloth drenched in crimson sat in his hands. He tossed it aside into a far corner of the room, He'll deal with it later.

Unrolling the bandages he moved a hand under her to the dip in her back, [F/N] complied as he raised her up and started to wrap a fresh dressing around her abdomen. She huffed lightly, He was being so careful. It was strange.

He rolled a few more layers around her before tearing it off, Tying it neatly it settled in place. Akaza removed his hand, [F/N] lowering back onto the mattress with a groan she lain splayed out. Panting and breathing hard.

Akaza raised up, Looking down at the exhausted girl with an unreadable expression. Why he did what he did he had no idea, It was some inner response that held more authority than his own common sense.

He felt a chill run down his spine like cold water, He shivered, Shaking it off. This was bad, He should of stayed out of this. He shouldn't of kept interacting with her in the first place.

Akaza groaned under his breath and turned away from her, The bandage was already settled and done, All that was left was for her to get some rest. He needed to leave, He'll go out and find someone real to train with.

The floorboards ached under his heavy footsteps. He got to the frame of the shoji door before he heard her meek voice call out to him for a final time.

"R-Real motherly behaviour for a demon there.. Seemed like you're use to taking care of people" [F/N] mused exhaustedly, One final jab at him before he left.

It made him tense up, He had no idea why. Shoulders were raised and his muscles flexed.

"Whatever. Don't speak a word of me being here to anyone." Akaza commanded, But it was too late. When he turned back she had already fainted on the futon. Her body grown limp and her eyes fluttered shut.

Akaza 'tched. Grabbing the door he slid it shut, Leaving her in darkness.

He sighed. What occurred played out like a reel tape in his mind. She and Kokushibo, Related? Improbable. Yet..

He shook his head. It's none of your business. Just walk away, This doesn't involve you.

And he hoped it stayed that way. It was his last thought as he took off.

Disappearing in a blink of the eye.

Next Chapter

#yandere #yandere x reader #tw yandere #moodboard #yandere x you #demon slayer #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer x reader #mitsuri kanroji #kibutsuji muzan #kimestu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #yandere kokushibo #yandere kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x you #upper moons #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo headcanons #kny mitsuri #demon slayer mitsuri #shinobu kocho #demon slayer shinobu #kny shinobu #mitsuri #kocho shinobu #kny x you

[dearingly]

Not easy to state the change you made.

If I'm alive now, then I was dead,

Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,

Staying put according to habit.

You didn't just tow me an inch, no-

Nor leave me to set my small bald eye

Skyward again, without hope, of course,

Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake

Masked among black rocks as a black rock

In the white hiatus of winter-

Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure

In the million perfectly-chisled

Cheeks alighting each moment to melt

My cheeks of basalt. They turned to tears,

Angels weeping over dull natures,

But didn't convince me. Those tears froze.

Each dead head had a visor of ice.

And I slept on like a bent finger.

The first thing I was was sheer air

And the locked drops rising in dew

Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay

Dense and expressionless round about.

I didn't know what to make of it.

I shone, mice-scaled, and unfolded

To pour myself out like a fluid

Among bird feet and the stems of plants.

I wasn't fooled. I knew you at once.

Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.

My finger-length grew lucent as glass.

I started to bud like a March twig:

An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.

From stone to cloud, so I ascended.

Now I resemble a sort of god

Floating through the air in my soul-shift

Pure as a pane of ice. It's a gift.

‘Love Letter’ by Sylvia Plath; 16 October 1960

#poem #poetry #love letter #sylvia plath #the bell jar #love post #love poem #aesthetic #aesthetics

[flowers-of-io]

My piece of an AMAZING collab @synnthamonsugar, @endivinity and I put together for @d2artevents Crimson Days event. This was such a fun thing to work on with you guys, and I’m extremely proud of us!!

Read on Ao3 // Full piece

Light filters through the massive rosette window on the far wall of the ballroom as thin, shimmering beams. It dances on moth wings and Wizards’ crystal pendants and rows of glasses carried on trays by Thrall waiters, their claws trimmed and chitin polished to shining. The walls and floor are polished too, almost mirror-like; the chamber reflects in them in an uncanny way, diffused and a little warped, the figures moving across them deformed and blurry at the edges but not entirely passing as shadows either.

And there are dozens of them, Knights and Wizards and even a few Acolytes in wormsilk cloaks and woven hoods. The Witch Queen hasn’t been known to hold back when it comes to theatrics, so the party is lavish, all flowers and garlands and hovering lanterns with shimmering moths fluttering inside. There is music as well—sounding surprisingly little like the tortured screams of the dying, played on strange instruments Eris has only read about in the World’s Grave but never seen before.

And there is dancing.

Through all her years of studying the Hive, Eris wouldn’t have thought they danced. Maybe it would have occurred to her earlier if she'd ever discussed it with Toland; he's always seen them as both more and less than she has, not only mindless beasts and not only gods. He would've said, of course they dance, they're a complex, highly advanced society, the kind that had built palaces and dreadnaughts before the Earth was even created. They have music and art and insanely complicated biotechnological mechanisms, philosophy and cuisine—why wouldn't they dance?

Toland is, at the moment, spinning away from her in a flowing gesture, his fan rising like a shield when she chases him with her sword. He has always been good at this, Eris thinks fleetingly—ever since those scarce and liminal nights a lifetime ago, when he would dance with Eriana in the yellow lamplight of her living room to whatever it was the radio played at 3 am. There is a sense of rhythm all Sunsingers have, perhaps, a certain attunement to the melody of the universe, and for all that Toland forfeited for Ascendance, he’s never lost that instinct.

He looks ridiculous, frankly, in his half-Warlock, half-Hive attire, the charms that tinkle louder than the music and sleeves catching on the buckles of her coat. He also looks gorgeous. The fabric flows and shimmers as he moves, and in a certain light, in the split-second glances between turns, Eris can almost see his true form underneath, the shivering spark of Ascendance wrestling free from her grasp as he sharply pulls away.

When the dance ends, they are both panting and bright-eyed, the rush of blood and adrenaline humming in Eris’ ears. It is not unlike after a fight, she figures; aptly put, for a Hive party.

She catches Toland glancing back at the cluster of Wizards over by the buffet, their claws wrapped around wine glasses and horns adorned with pendants glinting in the light. They have been staring at them since he dragged Eris onto the dance floor, and though she can’t quite interpret their expressions from so far away, the spark in their eyes is unmistakeable. She gives Toland a Look.

“Do try to return with a correct number of limbs,” she says mock-sternly. Toland scoffs, but his hands snake across her back and she is pulled into an embrace, long fingers knitting through her hair. She revels in the kiss, spiced up by the awareness that a good half of the room is looking at them.

As he scurries away, robes fluttering behind him, Eris gestures at a Thrall precariously balancing a tray of snacks in one hand. She has grown used to the Hive's questionable taste in sweet, mushy things, though the variance in what the Lucent Court's cooks have presented for tonight is truly astonishing. Chewing on a clam, she leans against a pillar and watches the dancers.

“I see you are enjoying the party.” She decidedly does not jump in startlement at the sudden presence behind her, head turning to face the hostess of the show in a much calm and stately manner. “My Court is certainly enjoying watching you, anyhow.”

“I’ve noticed.” She doesn’t take the wine glass Savathûn offers her.

“That was a good display of dancing right there,” the Witch nods appraisingly, a gesture so very un-Hive she must have picked it up during her time in the Last City, “though it lacked a kind of flourish. It grieves me to no end that you’ll never experience the delights of the Eversion Day balls on the Dreadnaught. Those waltzes were what everyone all across the broods would aspire to.”

Eris folds her arms across the chest. “I haven’t seen you on the dance floor tonight yet.”

Savathûn puts one hand over her heart and gasps theatrically, “I thought you’d never ask!”

In a swirl of fabric and light, suddenly there is a weight at the small of Eris’ back, and clawed fingers wrapped around her own lead her towards the middle of the chamber. The sea of dancers parts before them, heads turning and glowing eyes blinking curiously.

There is no use resisting, but she tries anyway. “This is not—”

“Oh, don’t break my heart, honey.” Savathûn’s voice is a silky murmur. Eris cannot quite tell if it's just illusion or if the Witch is using some kind of magic to fool with her mind a little, but the moment she is pulled into a closed position the atmosphere shifts near-imperceptibly, like a planet's orbit knocked askew by an inch. There is the sweet, heady scent of the throne world flowers, lingering around Savathûn like perfume. It makes Eris lightheaded. She finds her gaze fixed on the Witch’s brilliant eyes as if the star-dappled collar were a gravity well, drawing her in inescapably.

The waltz is slow and languid, so unlike the mad duel-dancing of the Hive. The edges between her and Savathûn seem to blur, the whole world shrinking just to the two of them, and some part of Eris’ mind thinks that this is mad too, the way she is letting herself be swept across the room like a ship in the arms of a gentle wave. Their faces inches apart, Eris curses herself for how furiously her heart is beating.

Savathûn reaches out and caresses her jaw with a single claw, smiling with her eyes. The music dies, but Eris isn’t aware of that, she isn’t even quite aware of where she is—and then someone bumps into her and she jumps, startled, head swivelling to the side instinctively. When she turns back, the Witch is gone.

Eris takes a sharp breath. She is standing in the middle of the dance floor, the crowds of Hive swirling around her, and there is a strange sensation on the side of her neck, like a feather-brush or a droplet of water trailing down.

When she touches it to check, her finger comes stained with her own blood, red like the train of flowers Savathûn leaves in her wake.

#my fics #d2valentines2024 #aunt savathûn #eris morning #toland the sarky #destiny 2 #hive #lucent brood

[bestworstcase]

Does/Will tdt Cinder practice Khime?

no. although hellebore’s crossing itself is a very mixed community—like a third or so of its full-time population are fauni, many of whom practice khimerism—so cinder is a lot more familiar with what khimancy is than the average human. (one of the people in her contact list in burnt roses ch1 is a turnskin.) which isn’t to say she knows very much in detail, ’cause it’s a closed tradition, but she could define it accurately.

this is also why she recognizes the white fang safety mark on roin’s truck in ch5, since sable rescued her from the glass unicorn situation she’s grown up in an environment where it’s safe for fauni and specifically khimeric culture to just exist openly around their human neighbors. which translates into knowing how to signal that she’s a Safe Person.

lonán is a practicing khimancer (albeit one with no formal training); roscoe march and raymond altansarnai are as well (both formally trained); rue has khime for religious rite-of-passage reason, but she’s secular and not really interested in pursuing the art itself. the other fauni students in the spring class (bella marshal, garth saille, scar tybalt) don’t have khime. roscoe is REALLY GOOD bc he learned from his mom, who’s a turnskin.

cinder’s religious Situation is smth called strigism by like. religious scholars. it doesn’t have a name though, the people who practice it just refer to it as ‘our way’ or similar turns of phrase—it originated in the vitrine peninsula (where hellebore’s crossing is) and is more or less only practiced there.

and then oak is a kairoist—which is the dominant religion in anima, although a plurality of mistral’s urban population are draconites in some form, kairoism is Much Older (as in, predates ozma’s first reincarnation by a couple thousand years). [pyrrha is not in burnt roses because she is eleven but kairoism is conceptually just an elaborate riff on the mantra she uses to unlock jaune’s aura in canon, to give a sense of the vibe]

gretchen’s religion is folk draconism (<- the brother-cult) pejoratively called sanctimony by normative draconites because it is WILDLY HERETICAL and revolves around worship of various ‘saints,’ largely regional folk heroes syncretized into draconism as sacred heroes who inherited or otherwise obtained slivers of divine power after the dragon-brothers, who became mortal through the act of creating the world, died. (WILDLY. HERETICAL.) (fretting abt folk draconism keeps ozpin up at night.)

larkspur and rani both grew up reform draconites (<- aka the lucent church. reforms happened under king osiander and mainly involved imposing a separation between the valean aristocracy and the church and pushing a much greater theological emphasis on peace and inclusion. this got him briefly excommunicated but proved so popular with the common people that the church had to walk that back to save face. orthodox draconism is the radiant church. the vermeils were the only noble family to support the reforms and that was partly a political move to empower themselves over rivals and partly because the winter maiden at the time was a vermeil.)

filemot is an indifferent madagian (<- worship of the four maidens) which means he attends services on the equinoxes and solstices and that’s basically it.

and sacnicte practices ixtuan ancestor worship, which is very funny for her for reasons that we’ll get to Later. :)

#time does this

[imeternallylove]

Every Baby Need A Da-Da-Daddy - S.Strange

(MM inspired)

Neurosurgeon!Stephen Strange x Reader

genre: lemon

warning: fingering, could be ons

word: 1,660

main mastetlist | request | prompts | inspired

Golden high beams shimmered in the foreground as you strolled by the poolside.

It's all turquoise and energetic, intriguingly deep and rich as if it's breathing. The vibe is a lavish multitude of lucent grins in their milk and honey auras, dazzling flashes striking their joyous causeries as they clinked their champagne with deep pockets.

You're dolled up elegantly for the event, and he's standing perhaps a few yards away from your. As the reporters approached him, his pupils engorged.

His greenish-blue opaque orbs were glued on you, and he was savoring his luscious pink lips, softly biting down on them. You wander away, flowing among men that were otherwise engrossed and curving to rhythm and blues.

The martini in his hand is doing its best to make him feel better; he aspires to continue pursuing you, throughout this tedious affair.

Your fingers pretty fast become entangled in the glass guardrail. It's frosty and blustery once. The breeze flies through your hair, while for a brief time, you're relieved to be free of the moneyed jagoffs' strangling snare drums and grimaces.

For once, you and the man behind you can take a breather.

"I think I recognize you." He rasps in your ear, his slim fingers resting on the railing next to yours. His accent is hoarse and scratchy as a result of the never-ending interviews. "How long will you keep me chasing you, princess?"

You stare out into the path across the moon, the horizon is as stunning as it has always been. When he calls you the pet names like last time, you blow out a deep chuckle as the city of dreams gleams in its amber glow.

"What is it about me that gives you pleasure?"

"Perhaps the same thing you decided to leave a throng of reporters behind?" You show your teeth to the man next to you.

The neurosurgeon leans in further and crushes himself against you. His lips lightly sink into the back of your neck, and you tremble at the bonding. He buries his nose trickier into your neck and whimpers, his breath as frantic and raspy as ever. "What else could I say? Your presence is beyond thrilling."

He continues to scatter gentle caresses on your exposed shoulder, his nose flaring streams sultrily over your flesh. "Have you heard of natural intuition, baby?" Your rattling sound in the chest pushes every sensation in your bloodstream into overdrive just thinking about it.

He afterward steadily travels upwards, nibbling tenderly on your earlobe. It pushes you to quiver, and he swiftly covers your mouth with his hand and eventually kills you.

"Patient… don't wanna be caught among the snobs now, do we?" He nips your jaw once more before chirping in your ear. "Why don't we go somewhere less dangerous—or riskier? You make the call."

It wasn't long before you responded to his query. His stare was eager, and you were keen to taste the sensation he had promised. And while you sat in his passenger seat, you couldn't tell if it was his seductive hold on your thigh or all the wicked things he couldn't stop muttering about doing to you.

His Huracán sped down the highway, and his words caused excitement to puddle between your thighs. And you were almost fighting the need to scream as he began running delicate arcs with his thumb across your flesh.

"I recognize you prefer it when I become a little aggressive… baby girl." His breathing was ragged, and his eyes were stygian and black, darker than the bowels of the abyss.

You already knew Stephen Strange was an overambitious man, but this was a little far away. He's far superior to any male you've ever met when it comes to lovemaking. You couldn't help but imagine how your night at the neurological society dinner would go. You were among the VIPs. A New York Times bestselling author who had just lately achieved success. And you would never have imagined things to escalate so soon.

But look at how you gotta faint as he calling you 'baby.'

You'd wished the world's top neurosurgeon might whisk you ahead to his famed Flatiron penthouse. No. He made a fast left and entered the freeway leading out of town. "Mr. Strange… that's-," you attempted to ask where he was bringing you, but he stopped you off right away.

"Don't be worried, princess." It was all that escaped his plump lips, a viciously curling smirk.

Strange massaged your inner thigh as his Lambo eventually drew to rest, his lips slightly parted before asking a brief query. "Are you drippin? Oh, fuck baby… I can just smell your thrills from here."

His slender fingers glided over your thighs and slid between them, stopping at your clad core, and you shrieked. He could sense that you were a sopping slop fest there, and the next thing you know, a sharp demand is uttered from his lips.

"Backseat."

Your heels were throbbing from the stilettos you were wearing, and you felt now was the perfect time to take them off, but Stephen stops you real quick. "Don’t. I'd like it if you had those on."

You couldn't help but grin at the slight pout on his lips that lasted for a second or two as if he was nervous you'd take them off. He resembled to be a kid whose favorite toy was being taken away, and you suppressed your smile.

You're in the back seat for a few seconds, then he joins you with ravenous eyes, like he's been fasting all night. As he lingers above you, his tux clings to his skin and a seductive gaze sweeps over his face before a faint whisper departs them. "May I?"

"Y-yes, please." Your speech impediment and he rushes to cup your face and smash his lips to yours. He has a pleasant flavor. So damned flavorful. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip, almost dangerously, as he attempts to go deeper as if he needs to explore every nook and cranny of you. You let him devour you, and the backseat is muffled out by his uncontrollable grunts and your shaky yelps.

Strange leans in closer, pulling your dress aside and fiddling with the fabric to get a better look at your exquisite collar bones. He suckles delicately on your soft skin, leaving a trail of pink behind him. He ascends, nestling into the crook of your neck before exhaling forcefully. "Fuck, baby, you smell so nice, and I'm sure you taste much better."

You were too engrossed in his remarks to notice his fingers sliding past your thighs again, soon finding a foothold at the hem of your pants. The neurosurgeon smirks cockily and tugs them down just enough to catch a delightful sight of your gleaming core, loving the vision with all his might.

"How deliciously wet," he coos, "and all for me, baby girl?" Rubbing delicate circles on your inner thighs once again, his fingers gently move to where you crave them the most. Stephen teases your sensitive nub with his thumb, and you hiss in response.

"Please, Mr. Strange." You cry out. He only giggles at your pleadings. "Getting eager now?" You nod feverishly, and a diabolical grin appears on his face.

"On one condition. Call me that." He withdraws his digits and quickly places them in his mouth, letting out a soft grunt as he feels your essence on his tongue. "Do you chance to know what the word is?"

You quiver beneath his stare as you fight to get the words out. "D-Da."

"Nah, babe." His voice is extremely menacing. It was something you secretly actually enjoyed. "Your sweet petite mouth would look lovely saying it, come on."

"D-Daddy..." You gasp, and your body jolts instinctively when his two long snake fingers into your core suddenly. He waits for a beat before curling them as expertly as he can and placing the pads of his fingers exactly on your g-spot. He then painfully quickens his speed.

"Do you like it, princess?" Strange grabs your lips with his again, his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt. "Do you like it when I fuck you with my finger?"

"Y-yes, d-daddy," you wail against his velvet lips. And he takes your pleas down. "Fuck, baby, make it louder for me. Daddy likes it." His fingers are pushing back and forth incessantly. Stephen sucks a painful hickey on your neck after trailing additional lips down your jawline.

The air is heavy, as is his voice, as he continues to entice you in ways you could only dream of. Your body felt electrified, and your walls tightened as the tightness in your stomach increased.

"Are you going to be like a good girl?" he groans. "Are you going to squirt all over my fingers, Miss Y/L/N?" He keeps going. Not for the world, and you knew you couldn't go on much longer when he addressed you by your given name.

When he circles your clit with his thumb, your body squirms because that's the final thing that might destroy you. You shudder uncontrollably, and your orgasm spreads throughout your abdomen like wildfire.

You writhe against his fingers, letting out a loud groan. "Fuck. Exactly like that baby. That's my good girl." Stephen compliments you as you come all over his fingers, puddles form around your thighs, and your cheeks flush. Heavy pants fill the backseat, and he licks your collarbone more.

As you bask in the warmth of your climax, he removes a napkin from his pocket and wipes you down, smiling the whole time.

He brushes his fingers across your cheek and pulls you in for another delicate kiss. "Will you let me pamper you once I've finished fucking your brains out in my penthouse, baby?" His eyes were filled with hunger, and you knew you couldn't pass up a second chance like this, so you responded-

"Yes, daddy."

p.s. ive got this story idea after a short chat with @bobateadaydreams last night, so here it comes lol. at first, i planned it for was 50s timeline but this one is far better!

p.s. 2 normally, Stephen’s Lamborghini Huracán, has no backseat. it’s just a 2 seater coupe available. so please use your imagination for this story.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange one shot #stephen strange one shot #marvel fanfiction #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #stephen strange x female reader #doctor strange x female reader #multiverse of madness #doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #dr strange smut #mcu x reader

[bookishdream]

Library

Okay, my first attempt to write about someone from the Shadowhunters chronicles James Herondale x fem!Fairchild!reader (btw no Grace, no romantic relationship with Cordelia)

The ballroom for sure looked marvelous. The big chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling in their full, rich glory. Every handle for a witchlight had glass around it that mirrored the look of rain droplets, conveying the light even more beautifully. Y/n couldn’t keep her eyes off of the two, monstrous elements of the ballroom. No matter how hard she tried, she always thought that they would just fall on her and the participants of the events. And it was a hell of an event. Tessa Herondale did an outstanding job, decorating the room with gold ornaments, black tablecloths and curtains. Gold cutlery and lucent champagne flutes were sparkling in the bright light given by the enormous chandeliers. 

Y/n caught one of the flutes and drank all the liquid in a quick motion. The Angel knew she needed it. She was hiding behind the pillar, peeking every now and then, making sure that her annoying brother wasn’t coming her way.

“Hiding, aren’t we?” Y/n jumped at the sudden appearance of a voice that she heard so many times. “Did someone ask you for another dance?” 

James Herondale was looking at her with those big, gold eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Y/n couldn’t ignore the fact that he was indeed beautiful, proving the rumors right. His black hair, that was tousled by a force the girl was not aware of, his eyes and what was more important, his selfless heart and bravery. Unfortunately, he was struggling with his mind and y/n was one of the few knowing about his secret relationship with the demon realm.  

“Don’t flatter me, James,” she remarked, hugging the pillar closer with her back, her palm clenched on the champagne glass. “My brother has been bothering me with looking for a possible suitor and since I have no interest in doing such a thing, I avoid him.” 

“It sure seems like cowardice to me,” the boy commented, making a step closer. His hand gently removed the flute from y/n’s fingers and he put it onto the table closest to them. Then he took her gloved palm and without a warning, led her to the nearest exit. 

“And running away isn’t cowardice? Your hypocrisy will never cease to amaze me,” y/n’s words came out as a whisper. She couldn’t contain her excitement, wondering where the boy was leading her. “James, care to explain where we are going?”

“You’ll see,” he sent her a bright smile, only his eyes were seen in the dark corridor. Not even a single witchlight was in the handle. “Be patient, love.”

Y/n’s heart rose whenever he called her love. It was basic, but except for Cordelia, he didn’t have nicknames for his friends. Perhaps the names he’s called Matthew that were too vulgar to say out loud. When the girl saw the door to the London Institute’s library, she could feel her smile growing wider. Her gloved hands started twitching and she desired to just be around all of those books. James opened the door, letting her through first and y/n saw the rows of bookshelves, the magnificent fireplace with an area to sit and relax around it. On the table beside one of the chairs was a book, opened half-way through. The fire from the chimney was giving a soft gleam to the area, making it look cozy and inviting. Y/n picked up a book and read the title. 

“Are you reading The Picture of Dorian Gray?” She didn’t know why she was whispering, perhaps it was simply the atmosphere of this place or perhaps she didn’t have to speak louder, for James was only a few centimeters from her, looking down at her eyes. “Do you know…”

“That it’s your favorite novel? I am quite aware, for you’ve been telling everyone who is willing to listen,” James answered her unsaid question. Y/n’s cheeks flushed, her eyes slightly widening. “And I am always willing to listen to you.”

“James,” the girl started, but she stopped when she felt a warm hand on her cheek. James had one of his palms on her waist and the other was caressing her face. “You know we oughtn’t.”

“We are all alone here,” she didn’t realize that the boy got closer, she wasn’t even sure he could’ve gotten closer. It was almost like he wanted to erase everything that was between them. “Perhaps Jessamine is somewhere here, but she shall give us some privacy.” 

“Darling, we aren’t engaged,” y/n wanted to create some space between their bodies, but James was reluctant to let her go. “My brother shall never acknowledge our love.”

“Matthew? He was jumping around like a lunatic when I confessed my feelings for you,” he frowned, searching for her eyes. 

“I had Charles on my mind,” she remarked. “With Mother in Idris and Father in his state, he thinks he can rule over my life,” y/n rolled her eyes.

“Then we should step forward with our undying love and I shall challenge him for a duel, should his reaction be unfavorable,” James’s eyes blinked with humor, letting her know that he should do no such a thing.

“Matthew has a wrong impact on you, darling,” it was her turn to touch his cheek. It was free of any stubble. 

“Then you must save me from him,” he joked. “I will be the damsel in distress and you shall be the knight in the shining armor,” he took her palm into his hand, took off y/n's white glove and gently kissed her knuckles. “Then you shall take me as your loving husband and we shall live happily ever after.” 

Y/n laughed at the mere thought of her saving James, but she considered what he insinuated, he wanted her as a wife, a partner, someone he shall spend his whole life with. But when she’d firstly realized she was hopelessly in love with him, they were both 15 years of age. Matthew was always the one closer to James, they always knew they’d be parabatai in the future, and y/n was never allowed to do the things boys did. But one day when she was relaxing with Lucie and an unpredictable demon ruined their afternoon tea, y/n panicked. Yes, she had been trained, yet she had never seen a demon so big and disgusting and terrifying. Fortunately, James and Matthew were in the close vicinity and they managed to slaughter the demon, ichor spilling everywhere. It had been James, later that night, that was holding y/n, calming her down, listening to her silent sobs and reassuring her that she was still a Shadowhunter, even though she froze, uncertain what to do. It had been James, later that month, that had helped her with training, snuck out with her to patrol the vicinity and conveyed his own knowledge. Then, she knew that he was the one who had stolen her young heart. 

“Will you marry me, Y/n Fairchild?” James whispered, his golden eyes looking at her hopefully, his lips formed into a soft smile that he always had when he was with her. 

“Of course I will, silly,” she kissed his nose, slightly, making his cheeks flushed. James didn’t wait for any further invitation, he ducked his head and kissed her strongly, making her heart sing and her body lightweight. 

“Lucie, have I drunk too much or are they kissing?” Y/n heard her twin’s voice, when she stepped away from her fiance, her cheeks blushing she saw Matthew and Lucie standing in the doorway. “Charles is going to be furious.”

“I need to speak to Cordelia, she shall be thrilled!” Lucie squeaked, running to her own parabatai. 

#james herondale #james herondale x reader #chain of gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #the last hours #lucie herondale #matthew fairchild #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles #james herondale imagine

[violettesiren]

Nowhere are we so close. Not in the train-car’s liquid window, the marshes that drop back as I pass. Not in the first darkening of red in the leaves against trunks blurred sticksilver, as when once we felt we might return. Not in November, when the herons in twos and threes arch their wings over the sound, leaving no lash-marks on the air that is their cadenza and companion, and the streaming speeds at which the trees flare and wilt, an old fury under-sung—they are not ghosts. Nowhere are we so close as when the ground-clouds wash the ankles of people in the borough, at evening when I have arrived—nowhere in the city where dawn is just a thought, a small hold in my gut that still binds me to you. What I am, each day, as I walk to the door. To seek a firmament in the midst of bus-engines and sirens, a canopy, peaceably, that spreads stars in your lashes and joints and sends a lucent wind across the placeless darknesses that are no dream backed by glass. A nullity in that unconscious singing. Spare and blood-warm. As when once we leaned into one another. Understood.

Nowhere Are We So Close by Joanna Klink

#joanna klink

[apoemaday]

Love Letter

by Sylvia Plath

Not easy to state the change you made. If I’m alive now, then I was dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it, Staying put according to habit. You didn’t just tow me an inch, no– Nor leave me to set my small bald eye Skyward again, without hope, of course, Of apprehending blueness, or stars.

That wasn’t it. I slept, say: a snake Masked among black rocks as a black rock In the white hiatus of winter- Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure In the million perfectly-chiseled Cheeks alighting each moment to melt My cheeks of basalt. They turned to tears, Angels weeping over dull natures,

But didn’t convince me. Those tears froze. Each dead head had a visor of ice. And I slept on like a bent finger. The first thing I was was sheer air And the locked drops rising in dew Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay Dense and expressionless round about. I didn’t know what to make of it. I shone, mice-scaled, and unfolded To pour myself out like a fluid Among bird feet and the stems of plants.

I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once. Tree and stone glittered, without shadows. My finger-length grew lucent as glass. I started to bud like a March twig: An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg. From stone to cloud, so I ascended. Now I resemble a sort of god Floating through the air in my soul-shift Pure as a pane of ice. It’s a gift.

#poetry #sylvia plath #love letter

[basementgremlindigs]

Finished and gifted 😁

My soldering’s still lumpy-bumpy, but a lot smoother than my first attempt.

#stained glass #my art #cloud nine #lucent glass #vitrail #arts and crafts #copper foil method

[dent-de-leon]

I like the thought of the rest of the Nein wanting to buy King Molly some new horn ornaments and jewelry after the resurrection, since he lost all of his favorite little charms and trinkets.

Veth giving him some shiny things from her collection, Jester sharing her favorite horn charms. Beau lending him a pair of jade earrings, telling him they’re supposed to be good luck.

Caleb stopping by little shops to look for something that will make King smile. A gift as golden and stunning as Summer's Dance, reminiscent of royalty. He remembers the way Molly preened in the mirror admiring his Periapt of Wound Closure, both beautiful and practical. How its power wasn't enough, Molly lying lifeless and still bleeding, the pendant of a delicately cradled heart gleaming at his throat--

Caleb starts to gravitate towards the items with arcane enchantments, the pieces that promise protection from evil and good fortune--something to keep his Circus Man safe. Bites his lip and worries at the lucky stone in his pocket, desperately trying not to think of the light fading from Molly's body as the last Transmuter stone shattered on his corpse.

Yasha offers the quiet, gentle suggestion that, "He likes rings." Caleb remembers that a bit, little things, Molly and Jester delightfully plucking stolen rings from Nott's fingers. Tarnished gold chains and costume jewelry, pieces scavenged and "borrowed" from the circus, claws glinting with rings of silver in the moonlight.

Molly never could resist the allure of shiny trinkets, the promise of gold and treasure. He cloaked himself in a rainbow of color, in gems and jewels and meaningless ornaments. Swords a brilliant, dazzling carnival glass. Molly's charming voice faltering, falling strangely quiet when he admits, “Literally decorated a pair of swords to make them look special. Thought maybe it’d make it less likely they’d think there’s something special about me...”

Coat adorned in painstakingly delicate embroidery and tinkling crystals and tasseled trimmings--taking pride in the ostentatious and ridiculous, radiant and gaudy in his deceptively calculated peacock display. Finding comfort in the riot of color and light, in the safety of his rich, vibrant new life.

Caleb brushes his fingertips over a delicate golden band encrusted with sapphires and cradling a moonstone, gleaming in lucent opalescence. A ring carrying an abjuration enchantment, imbued with magic that could save Kingsley from his own recklessness, that foolhardy self-sacrificing streak that makes Caleb's heart sink. It's decadent and precious and a bit too flashy, and Caleb instantly knows King will love it.

Caleb has the inside of the ring engraved with phases of the moon, a little secret for King Molly's eyes only, a hidden away tribute to his beloved goddess. Knowing full well that Tealeaf favors the god of forbidden love and clandestine trysts, that he may as well have slipped it on his hand with an exchange of vows.

When King holds his new prize up to catch the light and spies the Moonweaver’s mark with a fanged grin, he immediately puts it on, and it feels like a promise.

King thanks him with a kiss.

#mollymauk #widomauk #caleb widogast #kingsley tealeaf #i think king deserves a little token of caleb's love as a treat

[raytm]

If he calls it duty he thinks he could swallow it, even if it were barbed, even if it scraped along the back of his throat and drew blood, if he labelled it could it not fall beneath the mantle of responsibility and be yet another thing he would accept, even if it were begrudgingly. this was his father’s answer to Gepard’s years of silence, that if he wasn’t going to cross the threshold willingly it would be forced upon him. the affair was shallow, there needn’t be something as intricate as love for it to satisfying the prying eyes of the aristocracy. so he accepts it, excruciating as it is to close the opened door and turn his back on it he knows, more than anything else, that this is the safest option. the woman he is to wed is pretty, with delicate hands and lithe shoulders, with a mouth that smiled only when it knew someone else was watching, she had the most piercing green eyes and hair the colour of stygian ink. she hates him, he had known it since their introduction, the feeling was not mutual, but they had both learned how to pretend it was something tender. her fingers with tapered, scarlet nails dig into his his arm, forcing him to remain present during his father’s spiel. this was the right move for the family, her’s would be assimilated into theirs and would operate as a branch of the landau’s, it was an honour, her resentful eyes sear with lucent green when he speaks. his father mistakes it for adoration, but its fetid, grown sour and overripe until its insides were nothing but decay. gepard listens to his father’s long, futile speech but truly, his eyes are affixed to the stain glass windows, separating the branches from the birds and then the leaves from both, it helps him remain calm, allows him to act as if he was satisfied by this arrangement.

“ I understand.” he says, his father entices him to speak and only when he does is gepard in attendance to this meeting, even if his fiance’s claws bury into his skin, biting and furious. she hates him because she did not want this either, she was a studious woman who was dedicated to her studies, content working rather than placating, she knew this would condemn her to the life of a lowly house wife and she blamed gepard for it. he couldn’t bring himself to hate her, not really, he would still be free to operate from the barracks and she would birth heirs to their family and raise them under his father’s rule. In the end, it would all play out just as his father had dictated it would, even if he writhed and buckled and bared his teeth. they were tethered to that renowned name inextricably, he understood that as much as his duty had felt at times burdensome before, that there was so much more weight to it now. he looks upon his wife, in her dark corset and gossamer layers of gown she is decidedly beautiful, in the way danger often was, as if she might poise a blade by his throat and slash it open and wouldn’t that be salvation. if he absconded now, left his seat vacated, his father would have one of his sister’s ascend to his position if they liked it or not, he didn’t want to allow it chance to happen, he shackled himself because it was less complicated if he did. He could deny himself as he had for years, pretend he was okay, he had a talent for stifling his needs until they were no longer cardinal to him. he leans down and kisses her, it’s an awful thing, kissing a mouth that yearned to bury itself into your jugular, there is no adoration there, only violent, seething animosity. her fingers loosen, though, as if to say i'm satisfied with your performance, when he retreats he maintains his smile, it’s practiced but not stiff, even if it made his cheeks ache with exertion.

“ you two will make a lovely couple, my son is fortunate to be afforded the opportunity to have such a brilliant woman as his wife.” his stomach churns, he has to still himself lest he allow the cracks in his facade to show. his wife smiles up at her father in law, a reverent, yet decidedly angry smile. “ No, truly, it is I who is afforded such an honor as to marry into your prominent family, my father was so pleased when the news arrived.” he thinks of the cold, the hibernal undulating hills of white and the way it seared at the senses, the way it coiled in his lungs and stung at his eyes, anything - anything other than the genial atmosphere that tasted stale and rotting. “ shall we go then, katherine, there is still much for us to organise.” this is him nudging her, she tilts her head and down her elegant nose she punctures him, rending him into ribbons of flesh with the talons of her abhorrence, then, she smiles, in the same way he did, reserved for posturing as his wife. he thinks, even if he could not love this woman, his heart held no room for her, he could love his sisters, love them enough to give up his freedom, enough to marry and pretend and still persevere. he had been doing this for decades, now, he just had a partner he had to dance the duplicitous performance with.  

#she's probably gonna kill him in his sleep actually #now i can write happy things #⋆⁺₊❅. 𝐺𝐸𝑃𝐴𝑅𝐷 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐴𝑈. › 𝐢𝐜. #gepard drabble / #wahsnsnns #i barely edited this im sorry now i can just die

[incandescent-creativity]

Hi lucent

For storyday, tell me about the most normal story you've ever written and the most outlandish. According to you, I mean.

This question became very interesting to me as I started thinking of my answer to it, because it made me realize the only wips that have really Stuck are the ones that land in the middle of that spectrum? Which suggests that you have to hit that sweet spot between normal and outlandish for something to succeed.

For example, the most outlandish story idea I can remember ever trying to flesh out and write was something about a girl discovering an abandoned greenhouse full of sentient plants and their warring society contained entirely within glass walls. I don’t remember ever having a plot, just that premise I thought was fun.

(My headless zombie idea is in a similar stage, but I think I can come up with a plot for that one, so I don’t want to abandon it yet)

And the most normal one was probably a romance story about a woman traveling around taking people’s stories to post, similar to the People of New York account, and the man who follows her trying to get her story instead.

There were several reasons it didn’t work; for one thing, the two characters were basically Ash and Zach clones, and I couldn’t come up with unique characterizations for them. For another, I never had a solid backstory for how or why she was doing this project. Additionally, I think it would make for a more interesting story if she had a motivation that meant she collected the stories but didn’t post them, told people she was collecting testimonies for different reasons each time, and the man was an investigative journalist who had noticed these discrepancies. Which is quite different from the story I had originally.

But! Still quite “normal” I think. Mundane, almost. No supernatural characters or magic or worldbuilding of any sort.

Which I think is what I write best and is most interesting to me right now. Maybe the above story could be told someday, but for now I’d rather work in the mundane world but in the future (SOLE Project), or the mundane world with angels n demons (LiaHT and its sequels).

#sleepyowlwrites #incandescently answered #about me #my writing #my wips #stories told for free

[hellcity]

Don’t miss your chance to see @briannabelladonna performing LIVE on the HC MainStage Sunday at Hell City Columbus May 19th at 3:00pm! @hell_city

Tattooed beauty @briannabelladonna performs dare devil stunts including Sword Swallowing, Fire Eating, Glass walking and other jaw dropping acts. One of the only female Emcees in her field, she brings next level circus entertainment to stages all over the world.

You have seen her on network television featured in “How I Met Your Mother”, “CSI”, “Auction Hunters”, “Inked” and AMC’s “Freakshow” just to name a few. She was a starring cast member in the Las Vegas show “Freaks”. Brianna has also performed with The Jim Rose Circus, Coney Island Sideshow, and with the haute couture circus, Lucent Dossier. In addition she’s toured the US, Europe & New Zealand and also holds two world records in sword swallowing!

[synnthamonsugar]

*slides in for saturnalia* Dul Incaru and Guardian, platonic or romantic but just give her some loving, ty

I like the way you think, anon. >.:3c

"Where are you going?" calls Toland to Selene, who approaches in long strides, rendered in the flat blacks and blues of the ascendant plane. Before them lay the arched portico to Dûl Incaru's chambers. The site of ever-repeating confrontation between the guardians and the hive princess, the existential stalemate that locks the Dreaming City in its curse cycle. "The wretched machinery of the Witch will not allow you to defeat the Eternal Return. Riven has not yet died this cycle. The time is not right."

Beneath her helmet, Selene smiles. "I'm not here to fight."

Like the flame of a candle against the wind, Toland wavers. "Then what?"

"To do what you could not," as she passes him, she runs her fingers across the halo of his non-form like he's one of the Tower strays. He bristles beneath her touch like one, and leaps away.

The doors open before her, and she disappears behind.

"Dûl Incaru!" Her voice is clear and sharp as glass when she addresses her target. The wizard's three eyes lock onto the hunter with predatory sharpness as her Fatesmiths rouse to attention. "Dismiss your darkblades at once — I come with a proposal."

Incaru regards her for a brief moment, then calls down the guards with a flourish of her skeletal hands. They kneel, heads bowed deeply, poleaxes relinquished before them. Between their monumental bodies, Selene approaches the podium. 

"What is your proffer, daughter-of-light-and-darkness?" Incaru asks, voice sweet as leaded wine. 

Before Selene can answer, she is lassoed around her body and lifted off her feet by tethers of hive magic. Her bound hands tingle with void chill as she gathers her Light, a failsafe measure. "An end to our impasse."

They are close at eye-level now. Selene has always found something cute in her features, the cordate shape of her face, the foxish point of her horns, the upturn of her mouth that lends her a look of catlike smugness. The impression is only heightened by proximity. She may be the creature lurking in the shadows of the Dreaming City, biding her time in the closet until darkness falls, but Selene sleeps with her arm over the edge of the bed. The monster had finally reached out, taking Selene not just by the hand but entirely. 

"How do you propose that?"

"We stop. Discard the game entirely."

Hive do not possess lids with which to close their eyes, but her expression gives the impression of a slow blink. 

"I have tried everything to break the curse, Incaru. Killing your mother's pet. Killing you. Killing Quria. Begging the Witch Queen. I lived in the swamps of the High Coven and befriended one of her Lucent Brood. We worked together to solve her riddles but the secret we uncovered was not this. It seems the only thing I haven't tried is asking you."

A devilish glint in her eyes. "Ah, but you have asked, dear girl. Monthly Every bolt and bullet and cut has been a petition|dedication offered to me."

"Not with my words|will. Aren't you tired of your talents going to waste? Replaying the same month over and over is a poor use of your genius . . . and for what? To mortify a people who've long been desensitized to your lash? The amusement of a selfish dragon who delights in keeping awoken and hive both on tenterhooks? The glorification of a Queen so involved in her own schemes that she barely remembers you? I am. Let us use our powers to rewrite the recording. Let us relieve ourselves."

In one motion, Incaru releases the binding on Selene and scoops the smaller woman into her sinewy arms. Selene braces against her collar. "I would like to see your face, first. I have always been curious."

She transmats her helm away, revealing wide orange eyes, skin alight with starlight and a sheen of perspiration. Her flush is hidden by the strange optics of this realm, but nonetheless felt through her body heat as Incaru holds her hand to her chin, and Selene does the same, closing the distance between their faces in a singular, mutual movement of jaws and teeth.

.

Sometime later, Cobalt reconstitutes Selene, flitting away into the aether as she gasps her first revived breath. Dûl Incaru hovers a distance away, arms crossed behind her back, gazing contemplatively across Eleusinia.

"I cannot stop it," she admits without turning to look as Selene steadies herself on her forearms, half-reclined behind her. "I am a part of this infernal mechanism but I have no more power over it than Quria or Riven, or my mother now that she abdicated her throne. We are an engine with no driver. Aiat."

"Why did you—?"

" — did I promise you change?" Incaru's speech overlaps hers as she turns to look at Selene. "Well, we did use our paracausality to change the loop . . . just not in a way that impacts the outcome."

Selene swears she sees a smirk on Dûl Incaru's face, while suppressing her own.

"All the better to stay here, locked in these steps forever." She turns back to her study of the shattered throne while Selene picks herself up, straightening out her armor. "How could I bear to never again dance with my favorite devotee?"

#destiny #dul incaru/guardian #dul incaru #guardian oc #toland the shattered #synnth fic