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Something There - Akaza x Fem! Reader Chapter 2: Wrapped in Lantern Light

Author's note: Here's chapter 2 of my Akaza fic, ya'll! c: If you're liking the story so far, please maybe consider supporting me and my work on AO3 and my other cross-post sites! c: Chapter 1 - 4 are all available on those sites! <3 Your support means the world to me! <3 If you've made it this far, thank you for keeping up with the story up to this point! As always, God bless and happy reading! <3

Please find information about warnings and the rating for the entire fic in the post featuring Chapter One linked below! I will also be doing my best to tag these posts with appropriate warnings as well!

CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER THREE

Cross-posts: AO3, FFN, Wattpad, and Quotev (I am most active on AO3!)

Word count: 11,172

Chapter 2: Wrapped in Lantern Light

The forest had fallen into a peaceful silence when Akaza began to trek down paths familiar to him despite their unmarked existence.

His footsteps were quiet as they traversed the foliage around the cluster of cedars though he walked briskly with the unconscious woman in his arms. His bright golden gaze remained fixated ahead of him, trying to focus solely on the environment and the beings in the forest around them, but try as he might, he couldn’t dedicate his full attention on where he was going. There were subtle things about the girl in his arms which continued to cause his attention to stumble upon her repetitively, wordlessly beckoning those otherworldly hues of his onto her being.

The gentle, almost ticklish sensation of her hair brushing against his arm with every move he made when she’d sway just the slightest bit though he tried to maintain as stable a grip on her as possible; the rhythmic warmth of her constant, quiet breath blanketing the skin of his bare chest, causing gooseflesh to come to life along the length of his arms every so often; the occasional tear which slowly dripped and trailed from her cheeks to wet his flesh and soak into his open haori; the odd scent of her, so feminine and delicately mixed with the natural essence of the woods, something so foreign to him, it kept him wondering how long it had been since he had smelled something similar from this close.

In a word, the human woman was completely and utterly distracting.

He was normally much more focused and attentive when it came to his objectives, but this entire scenario with the Slayer in his arms was totally off-script from what he was accustomed to. It left him baffled with himself, almost at a complete loss on what he should be doing. He had some course of action to take for the time being, but whether that was the right move for him to make or not was still incredibly unclear to him.

As he pondered the thought, his walking slowed, and subconsciously, his gaze lowered upon the nameless woman swaying lightly in his arms. He didn’t really need to look where he was going. He had walked through the spaces in between the densely packed cedars so many times, he practically had every single seedling, adolescent, adult and fallen tree perfectly mapped out in his head. Effortlessly, he could sense the weaker beings which inhabited the forest alongside him, but he didn’t really care about their presences. Unlike the humans, he didn’t need to worry about the other demons. It truly had to be a mindless creature freshly born of rage and desolation with nary an idea on how the world around them works for one of them to charge at him like the weakling from earlier.

That in mind, he presumed he could devote a moment or two to observe the woman in his arms.

He found himself staring aimlessly at first, the sound of the breeze encouraging the leaves of the cedars to dance to the sound of the orchestrating crickets filling the space of existence around him.

Even asleep, she looked incredibly…sad. Somber. Distraught. Her brow was furrowed lightly, creasing her delicate skin on her forehead. Her lips, plush and softly reflecting the distant glow of the moon whenever the canopy allowed, were pulled downwards. A few of her tears had left their streaming trails on her skin alongside the corners of those lips of hers before they had dripped and disappeared beneath her chin.

He supposed it was only natural that she looked that way after what happened. He assumed most humans would be fairly distressed or troubled to have a confrontation with a couple of demons in the woods – but then again, she wasn’t just any ordinary human and he already knew he couldn’t have been the cause for her original strife.

Mimicking the expression on her face, Akaza’s brow had furrowed, perplexed once again by the thoughts running through his mind.

What a strange human, He thought to himself. Coming to me on her own like that. She must be out of her mind. If I had been any of the others, she would’ve been a pile of bones by now.

He frowned, stopping a moment to adjust his hold the slightest bit so he could carefully stroke a few strands of hair behind her ear the wind had blown astray. By then, the blood on his hands had dried and brushed off on the two of them, allowing her hair to remain dry this time when his ink-dipped fingers lightly tucked those silky strands back in place.

He stood still where he was, just staring at her, his eyes slowly trailing down her frame to take in the curves and contours of her plump, feminine figure before trailing back up to her face to take in the small detail of her long lashes gently brushing the tops of her wet cheeks. The world around them kept moving, the woods kept breathing life and eliciting excitement into the beings hiding amongst the cedar, but he felt like he was stuck in place despite knowing exactly where he had been going. Everything about what this woman was, what she represented and what he was doing with her was all completely against everything he knew and did throughout his lifetime as a demon. It caused things to stir in him which left him feeling unlike himself.

Uncertain.

Hesitant.

He didn’t like feeling like this. This feeling of instability on the ground he walked on no matter how firmly he planted his feet nor how sturdy he made his stance.

Tearing his gaze away from her figure, he turned to look towards the direction he knew led back to the village he assumed she came from. For an instant, he considered to just take her there. He could leave her at the edge of the village before any of the other humans saw him and disappear. He’d have saved her from death’s grip tonight and would be free of the uncertainty she planted in him.

Long, seemingly endless seconds passed him by as he considered it, his eyes staring into the distant empty foliage as far as his sight allowed him. Ultimately, he turned sharply on his heels, dismissing the idea and simply continuing along the paths he knew as well as the back of his hands.

Forward he walked with purpose and focus once more, the distractions of the woman in his arms pushed to the back of his mind for the time being. He didn’t want to linger on possibilities and open air anymore. He needed a sense of grounding, a sense of stability and concrete direction of the likes of which he thrived from. So, he kept walking, swiftly ducking and passing in between the gossiping cedars smoothly no matter how packed and dense the woods around them became.

Deeper and deeper into the dark he wandered, the two of them consumed in a world he knew she couldn’t survive on her own. Without him, she’d be a sightless, bloodied lamb, wobbling around and bleating in her lost, innocent ignorance until a starving wolf came along to do away with her life so as to stain the blades of grass beneath their feet with red. In that scenario, what did that make him? He could’ve very well been the wolf, and he very well still could be, technically, but he knew better than anyone that would never happen. So, what is he? What role is he supposed to take in this story?

He shook his head, deciding that the answer didn’t matter.

Thankfully, his hastened, quick footsteps made it so he didn’t have to wonder about it for much longer, either.

Before long, he had found the path of forest floor bordered by two twisting rows of thick, ancient cedars. The massive, impressive trees stood side-by-side, on guard, their canopies outstretched to keep all light at bay along the trek to the door of the old cabin at the end of the trail – the abandoned cabin he often called home when he needed sanctuary from the brilliantly scorching sun; something the humans looked at as a symbol of hope and happiness, and likewise, something demons like him looked at as a symbol of a cruel, painful death.

What did it feel like? He wondered absently. The warmth of the sun on my skin without the feeling of it blistering me like a burnt piece of meat…Did I like the sun when I was human too?

The questions made him frown again though he felt more at ease at the sight of the cabin’s inviting wooden structure. The feeling of walking below the cedars’ shadows had always covered him with a sense of safety and refuge; a place he knew he could rest in without worry of the sun’s burning rays hitting his sleeping body. Regardless of what he must have thought about it in his prior lifetime, the sun was now an enemy he would have to battle against for the rest of his eternal, immortal days. As long as she was in the cabin with him, she would be safe from the others on the outside even during the day.

Sliding the cabin door open with his right foot, he stepped into his home, greeted by a calming dark within. The dim light casting hazily from the open door allowed him to see the little furniture he had in the small room was right where he had left it last.

The cabin itself didn’t have a lot to look at on the inside. The structure was relatively small, primarily consisting of one main room and a small closet towards the back. There used to be two windows on opposing walls, but he had boarded them up when he first found the place to ensure it would be shrouded in complete darkness whenever the sun rose. Within the main room there was a simple one-person futon, tucked towards the center of the room away from said windows just as a precaution. Its comforter was thick, the edges bordered in white with an intricate pattern of waves displayed on the middle fabric. It wasn’t exactly his taste, but he wasn’t picky, either. He had stolen that from the nearby village, actually, not so long ago.

Beside the futon, there was a lantern with a recently replenished tall, white candle confined within the detailed metalwork. Naturally, it wasn’t lit. A few feet away from the futon was an irori pit with a cooking pot setup above it and two beige zabuton cushions on either side. In the irori pit itself, there were a couple of cedar logs haphazardly beaten down to size, edges jagged and misshapen. He wasn’t in the habit of cooking at home often, but considering his specific dietary lifestyle, he would sometimes simply hunt animals in the forest and cook the meat he harvested from them in his cabin. Of course, he didn’t have to do this, but he wasn’t really the type to go out of his way to kill off just any human for a meal, either. Consequently, the fact that the cabin had its own irori pit was actually a bit of a plus for him. Eating cooked animal meat whenever it was convenient to fill him was just…well, convenient. When he wasn’t cooking anything, however, he would light the irori anyway to better illuminate the entire cabin.

The walls themselves were barren, the natural grooves and rings of the wooden planks the only decoration offered in the room. Against the wall to his left, there was a basic wooden cabinet with a single door hiding what was stored within. Beside the cabinet, there was also a basic wooden dresser with two sets of three drawers. All in all, it wasn’t a whole lot that he had there, but it was enough for a being like him who never stayed in one place for too long.

The floorboards beneath his bare feet hushed out quiet creaks in greeting as he approached his futon. Kneeling down before the mattress, he carefully lowered the woman in his arms down onto it, one of his hands sliding to the back of her head to guide it tenderly to his pillow while the other straightened and adjusted her legs. Once she was settled in and his hands were free at last, he looked towards the Nichrin sword sheathed by the woman’s hip. He didn’t expect her to use it on him, and even if she did, he knew he could handle it, but he still figured it would be for the best for him to remove it from her person so she didn’t hurt herself if she started tossing around in her sleep. Taking care not to jostle her body too much, he detached her sword from her belt – sheath and all – and placed it on the ground beside him for the time being. After that was taken care of, he turned back to her and moved the comforter gently out from underneath her legs and hips to pull the warm blanket atop of her weakened frame. He took a moment to tuck her in loosely, making sure she was warm and well-covered by the comforter.

Only when she was completely settled is when he got back up on his feet and went to close the cabin door, the dark within the room completely consuming the two of them for a moment’s breath. Still, even in the pitch black of these four walls, he knew exactly where he was going and where he shouldn’t step. Instinctively, he walked towards the dresser against the left wall and pulled open one of the top drawers. He rummaged inside for a few moments, his tainted fingers feeling around various miscellaneous objects he had stored away until he eventually came across one of his matchboxes. He fumbled with the box, his thumbs pushing the lid open so he could pluck a single match out of the bunch. Closing the box and holding it firmly in his hand, he swiped the match

once,

twice,

three times

until fire sparked on its head.

He hummed, pleased, and tossed the matchbox back into the drawer before pushing it closed. He then returned to the woman on his futon and knelt down beside her to face the lantern at her side. He opened up the small cage’s door, a squeak of rusted metal groaning with the motion as it revealed the candle hidden within its framework. Pinching the match between his thumb and forefinger, he lit the candle, its graceful flame dancing to life bathing the cabin in a warm, orange glow. Once it was lit, he blew the fire out on his match and tossed it carelessly into the irori’s sands to swallow up the faded giver of light.

For a moment, he considered lighting the irori, his eyes lingering on the pit and the cedar logs he had yet to use within it, but he shut the lantern’s door closed and decided against it for the time being. Instead, he took the woman’s Nichirin sword and went to rest it against the wall by the closet door before returning to kneel by her bedside once more. Bathed in the lantern’s glow, as he gazed upon her sleeping figure, he began to drink in her details in a different light almost without even noticing. He didn’t really know where to look at first, so many details long since forgotten suddenly pushed onto his lap out of the blue tonight having made everything somewhat confusing to the demon, but in time, his gaze began to focus on the small details again just as he had done out in the woods.

He took in the sight of her chest rising and falling consistently with her breathing first, the subtle motion causing for the comforter atop of her to ruffle quietly along with her shallow breaths. It was lulling to watch, a constant rhythm which made him feel somewhat…peaceful. Strange that he got a feeling like that just by watching over her like this. His eyes then traveled back up to her face, taking in the sight of her feminine softness bathed in orange light and brushed crimson where his hands had touched her earlier. Despite the macabre undertone, she actually looked quite beautiful with her thick locks of hair splayed out across the pillow around her. Womanly and graceful even in the state she was in.

He hummed at the thought as he took in, once again, the troubled and pained expression the woman harbored on her delicate features he caught himself admiring. Her frantic crying and pleas to be killed set aside, there had been something else going on with her that caused that look on her face to surface. She had been limping when she approached him, having practically dragged herself all the way to him from wherever she had come from. He wouldn’t be surprised if her body was littered with all kinds of injuries beneath that uniform of hers, considering her line of work and the humanity she couldn’t help.

“If you were a demon, that wouldn’t matter. You would have gotten over it by the time you blinked twice.” He commented lowly, hushed under his breath, an innate response which rolled off of his tongue instinctively. “…But you’re not. You’re human…You’re weak.” He remarked, gently reaching down to comb his fingers through a few locks of her hair. “You’re fragile…You can’t take care of yourself on your own like that, can you…?” He repeated the motion a few times, starting near her head without actually touching her and combing his fingers leisurely along until they carefully pulled themselves out of her luscious waves by the tips. He watched curiously as the strands gracefully fell from his fingers onto the futon and pillow, unused to the silky sensation and the odd sense of peace these simple, insignificant actions continued to bring him.

On the sixth time his fingers found themselves swimming in her (hair color) waves, his hand had paused midway. He stalled there to allow his thumb to rub those silky strands between the pads of his fingers, the smooth, honeyed sensation of it abruptly causing the inkling of a memory to shyly lift its head within his mind. He blinked a few times, his fingers stopping and his brow furrowing, the shy memory he didn’t know he had becoming bolder and extroverted, suddenly hitting him with a quick flash of images and words that forced him to stir from where he sat with a start. He straightened up, his brow creasing further, taken aback but actively motivated to move with the sudden information he had at his fingertips. Finally allowing her hair to fall from his fingers one last time, he stood to his feet and got ahead of himself, already rushing towards the door, but he stopped himself halfway with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Water.”

He turned back around and moved towards the closet, sliding the door open to reveal a pail set on the floor below the shelves he used to bring water to cook with and to refill the small outhouse outside. He grabbed its handle with his bloodstained fingers, and the sight of their bloodied state casually reminded him he needed to wash himself up after his encounter with the lesser demon. After he made a mental note of that, he closed the closet door and rushed out of the cabin, making sure he had slid the front door closed behind him.

He was sure she’d be fine on her own for a little while. After what happened earlier, he doubted any of the others would really dare themselves to come near her now that he’s taken her in, even when he wasn’t around – at least not tonight.

I’ll remind them why it’s an awful idea to try if they forget quicker than they should. At the very least, it would make for an entertaining couple of minutes.

~¤ ¤ ¤~

The evening air was warm, the cool breeze carrying the sounds of people conversing and traveling, caught up in their own bubbles and lives. The lights above were warm and golden, easy on the eyes, but bright enough to make the scenery come to life for those who walked along the station platform. Up ahead, the train tracks were empty, a wide and vast forest left in full display on the other side during its temporary vacancy.

_______ felt disoriented by the familiar sights and sounds of the Mugen Train Station, aware that she had visited a few times in the past, but she couldn’t remember visiting it recently, let alone coming tonight to sit on that metal bench she was on right now. She looked around her, eyes squinted, lips parted slightly as confused, labored puffs of air left her. The sight of the crowds of bustling people and the bright ticket counters illuminating the dark of night came off blurry to her, so she lifted her hands to rub her eyes in an attempt to bring the world back to clarity. She tried to orientate herself, remind herself on where she was and what she was doing, but her mind kept drawing a blank no matter how clear her vision became nor how focused she tried to make herself be. The only thing she was able to really acknowledge was that this was, in fact, the Mugen Train Station. She didn’t need to read the signs to know that. Still, that didn’t tell her anything about why she was there and how she got there to begin with.

“You’re awake, young _______!”

That voice…

That voice.

It shook her to her very core to hear it ring so vividly in her ear. It sucker-punched her in the gut to hear it clear, bright and warm like the comforting lights above her. It forced the air out of her lungs to hear the laugh which followed soon afterwards, full of vigor and life. Slowly, she turned in her seat, coming to face the side of the station she had neglected since her eyes opened in the midst of the hustle and bustle of common life. Upwards her gaze rose until it landed on those lively, unique golden hues and that brilliant, heartwarming smile she had burned in her memory to the very last detail. Right down to the dimpled creases and the fiery rings of color within his irises.

“R…R-Rengoku…? Is that…? B-but…but how can…?”

He simply widened his smile, chuckling further as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t trouble yourself too much with how right now! We have other things to discuss, don’t we, young _______? More important things.”

_______ shook her head, her hands trembling on her lap before they grabbed tightly at the hem of her skirt. Her nails tugged roughly at the fabric, so strong she swore it would tear, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Rengoku was there.

He was alive.

“Tell me, why are you here?”

Still completely floored by the Hashira’s appearance, _______ slowly shook her head in response. There was so much she wanted to say, so many things she wished she had said, but none of it came to her tongue now that he was sitting in front of her like she thought he never would be again. Everything jumbled up in her mind in a large, convoluted knot, forcing her to hyper-focus on his presence as a whole instead.

“I…don’t know why I’m here…I don’t even know how I got here…”

“Yes, you do know why you’re here. I’m sure you do. Dig in a little deeper, _______, I know you can do it!”

Her lower lip began to quiver at his familiar encouragement, her eyes beginning to mist up.

“But I r-really don’t, Rengoku, I-I don’t know why I’m here…I can’t give you the answer you want…”

“Yes, you can! Search within yourself and you’ll find the answer you need!”

She shook her head again as it lowered, pulling her gaze away from his brilliant expression completely to instead stare at his flame emblazoned haori draped beneath him on the bench.

“You always had so much faith in me,” She whispered meekly. “Why…wh-why did you ever have that much faith in someone like me?”

Though she no longer looked at him, his smile softened and his head tilted gently to the side.

“I had many reasons to have faith in you, but there’s more to this.” He remarked softly. Vaguely. “Dig a little deeper.”

She shook her head one more time, tears now beginning to roll down her cheeks, clinging to the edges of her jaw before falling in fat droplets onto the fabric of her skirt and the metal of the bench.

“B-but, Rengoku, I don’t care why or how I got here, I-I’m just…I-I’m so happy you’re here…I d-don’t even know what to do with myself, my head feels so empty but so loud at the same time…There’s so much I want to s-say to you, but I’m…” She couldn’t completely end her sentence, a heartbreaking sob wrenching itself free from her gut forcing her to cut herself off. She bent forward, ducking her head down lower into her chest as she brought her pained, heavily squinted gaze down to her laps where it heavily blurred with her tears. All the while, the bustling, busy crowds around them continued on their ways, carrying on their own lives and business, completely ignoring the two of them in their shared bubble.

Roughly, she bit into her lower lip, surprised she didn’t taste blood from how brutely she had dug her teeth into the tender flesh, but she didn’t question it.

She just needed to try to compose herself.

She felt like it was crucial.

She had no idea how much time she had.

“Why are you here, _______?” Rengoku asked again, the feeling of his large, gentle hand reaching down to press and rub against her back forcing another devastating sob to rip through her throat no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down.

“Y-your hand,” She sobbed. “My God, Rengoku, your hand i-is so warm…Without saying anything o-or…or d-doing anything in particular, you’ve always made me believe l-like things will be okay at the end of the day…J-just like that…J-just because you’re so reliable a-and dependable…S-so strong…”

“_______...”

“W-why would you ever waste s-something so compassionate and k-kind on someone like me…? W-why, out of e-everyone you could sit with, did you come to m-me? I don’t deserve this – I-I don’t deserve you…!”

“Why are you here?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” She suddenly cried out loud, as loud as her lungs allowed her to proclaim. Her back straightened, bringing her to sit up and face the Hashira with an expression completely crumpled in heartache and every single sense the sentiment held.

“I don’t kn-know why I’m here, R-Rengoku…! I never did!”

Rengoku’s expression softened further, warm and full of compassion and care, not at all shaken nor deterred by her outburst.

“You wandered into that forest on your own,” He remarked. “You went in when you were most vulnerable. You dragged your feet across roughened soil and through shadows in the dead of night knowing fully well what you were getting into – but why? Why did you do that, young _______?”

She couldn’t answer him. Her trembling lips quivered heavily and broken, painful whimpers erupted pathetically from her throat as the tears distorted her vision of Rengoku further, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer that question.

Not to him.

She would sooner confess it to the entire world before she would ever confess it to him.

“I know it hurts,” He hushed softly when she didn’t reply, the hand he had rubbed her back with coming to slide upon her cheek where he brushed her tears away. His touch was gentle and thoughtful, the warmth of his skin reminding her again of the life beating in his heart in this moment in time. When he wiped all of her tears away, he brought his hand up to pet the top of her head in comforting strokes. “I know it’s hard to move on, but you can do it, ________. I’ve always known you could. I never had a doubt.”

Still, she could say nothing. All she could do was continue to fall apart right there in front of him, new tears taking the place of the ones he so tenderly wiped away for her as she reveled in the feel of his petting – something she almost forgot the feeling of. The way his large hand would lay flat against her head and gently stroke backwards towards the back of her head before lifting to the top to start over again. The way his fingers would sometimes get caught in her locks and the memory of how they would laugh when he pulled some of her hair out of place when he was done. It all only served to break the small pieces of her heart which remained into smaller, miniscule, jagged shards, devastated that she had really forgotten how this used to feel.

In the midst of his petting and encouraging words, she could hear the distant sound of a train’s whistle blowing. The sound caused for her heart to leap to her throat, the widening of her eyes clearly showing the panic she felt bubbling because of what it meant – because of the fate she knew it carried within its carts.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be here,” Rengoku promised her, his eyes closing into gentle crescents as his smile splayed softly across his lips from ear-to-ear in his own unique display. “When you figure out why, I’ll be here too. I know it’s hard right now and the answers aren’t as clear as you’d like them to be, but you’ll get to them in time. Be patient not just with this, but with yourself. Be patient and be kind.” Giving her one last stroke of the head, he allowed his hand to slide to her cheek where it lingered for a few seconds before he stood to his feet as the Mugen Train came to rest at its station.

Instantly, _______ began to shake her head vigorously, her body moving on its own to stand her up along with him.

“R-Rengoku, please, don’t go! D-don’t get on the train!” She gripped at his arm desperately, trying to pull him back to her, trying to pull him away from the open maw of the Mugen Train and the destination she knew it would lead him to. “Stay! S-stay with me! J-just…j-just a little bit longer! You don’t h-have to go! We can think of something else! W-we can get backup from the Corps and m-make a proper plan! PLEASE, just stay with me…! Don’t get on that train!”

He let out a soft sigh lightly laced with a somber nostalgia, his eyes shifting to look at the Mugen Train with the smile still on his face before turning to look back at _______ once more.

“You and I both know I can’t do that,” He commented softly. “But that’s okay. I’ll be okay, and more importantly, you’ll be okay too.”

With that, he gently removed her hands from his arm, squeezing them strongly and reassuringly in his own for a few seconds longer. When he released them, he turned towards the Mugen Train and boarded it with the other passengers, flashing her one last smile before he disappeared in his cart. Suddenly, the entire train station was empty of the crowds and the atmosphere was silenced from the chitter chatter of the pedestrians. All the doors of the train closed and locked, the beast of iron and coal roaring to life once more with a loud blow of its whistle and a shrill screech of its wheels beginning to turn on its rustic tracks.

_______ shook her head desperately once more, watching as the train began to leave the station at a slow, leisure pace which gradually picked up speed the more its wheels turned.

“N-no, no, no, no, no…! Rengoku! RENGOKU!”

Despite the futility of the situation, she raced after the Mugen Train, trying with all her might to run alongside the cart he had boarded. She could see the top of his fierce mane of blonde locks with their bright red tips from one of the windows, the small sight of him beckoning her to kick her feet as fast and as hard as she was able against the platform floor – but there was only so much platform she was able to run on and only so much time she had before the train was traveling at a pace she could never dream to compete with.

Skidding to a clumsy stop at the very edge of the station platform, _______ watched the Mugen Train rush down its tracks, carrying Rengoku away with it to a fate she knew she couldn’t change no matter how strongly she wished she could.

From there, all _______ could do was watch from the lonely, empty platform as the train quickly grew smaller and smaller in the distance until it was completely out of sight. By then, she was sobbing openly into the blowing wind, orchestrating her deep, wrenching anguish to the vast woods – the only audience she had left.

~¤ ¤ ¤~

Orange.

Flickering, swaying orange delicately tinged with a golden inner glow casting shadows while performing on what seemed like a wooden stage.

That was what the world around her was gradually coming to be as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Her eyelids felt heavy, almost too heavy to lift, the weak effort she put into opening them causing for her lashes to tickle the skin of her cheeks. The world still didn’t make much sense to her in those senseless moments of groggy forgetfulness. She couldn’t tell where she was, couldn’t remember what had happened last in that very moment, but she did acknowledge the colors soothingly dancing on the foreign ceiling above her.

The colors were vibrant and strong, lighting up the space of the room she was in perfectly in its comforting glow though she made no move quite yet to look around. She could just tell and feel that it did from the intensity of the colors acting out their play on the ceiling. She felt safe watching them, wondering how it was they got there but having no real determination nor interest in finding out.

She didn’t want to question it.

She knew what happened was just a dream, but she wanted to pretend for a while longer.

She wanted to feel safe and comforted in a way she had long since forgotten for just a little bit longer.

It was a feeling the colors on the ceiling tried to mimic with their performance, and they did quite well, if she were to critique. The play they put on for her made the feeling linger for a while, though it was naturally diluted and nothing like the real thing. It was as though she were coming down from a numbing high, plummeted back into a reality she didn’t want to accept, but allowed a few more minutes in blissful ignorance and disassociation of the truth she hated to accept.

Her vision slowly began to mist and cloud as she watched the colors dance and flicker in the sporadic climax of their stories, but her expression remained the same. She didn’t grimace nor crumple nor pucker. The tears simply came to be in her eyes and slowly began to slide down the sides of her temples, because that’s what they were supposed to do. They were supposed to be there, welling and building up in her sore, tired eyes and marking her skin with their paths repeatedly until she was covered in well-worn tracks. For this instant in time, she was too exhausted to react, too battered to care and too far deep to struggle.

Thus, she simply allowed it to be.

Yet, despite all of that, something beyond the colors was beginning to seep into her current reality. She was gradually becoming aware of the sound of what she believed was bubbling water, consistent and lively somewhere to her left. Along with the bubbling was the occasional clang, pank, clang, pank of metal lightly bumping into metal. Lost in her vague awareness, she shifted her focus from the dancing colors on the ceiling to the shadows which surrounded them. Most of the shadows bore no defined shapes, constantly changing and altering with the movement of the bright glow. She assumed those shadows were stationary objects in the space she was laying in, though she still showed no interest in moving to see what they were.

Amongst the majority, however, was a more persistent shape. Naturally, it would distort and bounce gracefully on the wooden ceiling at the dancing glow’s demand, but through it all, the shadow itself owned its own fluidity. She could make out what appeared to be an arm steadily turning over and over in circles. There was something held in its hand, though she couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Occasionally, the arm would stop its rotating motions to pull on whatever it held – or was it lifting it? Yes, it was lifting it. A ladle of some sort. Shortly after she labeled the mystery object, a larger shadow came into view; a head and upper body bending forward seemingly peering into the ladle. The person who inspected whatever was on the ladle didn’t stay in view for long, already dipping the ladle back into what must be a pot of some sort to continue their stirring. It was then that she picked up on an earthy aroma warmly enveloping the air, reminding her of flourishing fields and endless plains of grass sprouting from earth recently bathed in cooling rainwater.

Where exactly was she supposed to be? The last place she remembered being in was the cedar woods. She had been close to death then, but had she actually died? Was that what the vision of Rengoku related to? Was that why she was in the Mugen Train Station with him?

No, that didn’t make sense. If the afterlife was really cruel enough to torture her with those kinds of visions, then it would be the same kind of hell she lived in day-to-day. Besides, even if that was the afterlife, why wasn’t she at the station now? This wooden ceiling didn’t belong to the modernized train station, that much she was aware of. It was much too rustic for a bustling, up-and-coming city like the one that station resided in.

That begs the question: if she hadn’t died and she wasn’t laying in the space between life and death, then where exactly was she?

She knew she should turn her head. She kept asking and wondering where she was while watching the shadows and lights on the ceiling, but she was fully aware she could begin to gather an answer if she simply looked around.

Pull her gaze away from the ceiling.

Lead her eyes astray from the calming, warm glow.

It’s such a simple action. If she just turned her head even the slightest bit, she would already have more detail and information to work with to piece together what had happened to her, but that one simple, minuet action felt harder for her to accomplish than the training she endured to become a Demon Slayer and every mission she ventured on up to this day. Turning her head away meant turning away from the warmth of the orange and bright golden glow which kept her company during their comforting play. Pulling her gaze away from the lights and shadows on the ceiling meant turning away from so much more than just absent, blissful ignorance.

It meant turning away from the vision.

It meant turning away from the comforting, temporary fake feeling of okay.

It meant turning away and simply allowing the door to close and lock again.

‘You’ll be okay.’

She grimaced lightly as his voice echoed in her mind. She could practically hear him laughing, could practically see him smiling down at her with reassurance from within the glow. He said that with so much confidence and faith in his voice for her, but how could he be so sure? How could he believe in her that much when she held no faith in her own self? Though he had been certain of what he said, she was convinced she would never truly be okay again, so she wanted to keep pretending. She wanted to keep existing in the pathetic copycat of the safety and encouragement he made her feel when he was still there. When he spoke to her. When he expressed so much belief in her when it was difficult to see an ounce of worth on her own.

When he was still alive.

She lingered a few moments longer, envisioning his smile and repeating everything he told her in the station, the clang, pank, clang, pank of the shadows having long since turned to soothing background noise. If it had been up to her, she wouldn’t move ever again, but deep down, she knew she had to – even if it was only to live up to Rengoku’s beliefs in her.

Though it was difficult, though it shattered her heart to watch his image dissipate and fade amongst the dancing lights, _______ began to turn her head in defiance against everything in her that told her to sit there and rot. Slowly, stiffly, she turned to the left, taking in the mostly barren sight of the room she was laying in. In the process of it is when she realized she was tucked into a futon, its thick comforter hugging her close to the thin mattress beneath her. Not only that, but her Nichirin sword had been taken away from her, although it was still close by, leaning against the wooden wall facing her. Being disarmed didn’t unnerve her. It simply was.

Beside the futon itself was a lantern, its metal frame housing a burning candle. For a few seconds, her gaze lingered on the intricate cage of the lantern, taking in its crisscross detail highlighted by the flame burning within. When she caught herself becoming too comfortable with the soothing glow once again, she forced herself to shift her gaze beyond the lantern.

Close by, there was an irori lit, the planks of wood in the pit of sand roaring with brilliant, lively flames which licked at the underbelly of a dark pot strung above them. The most jarring part of the scene, however, was the person who had been casting the shadows on the ceiling she was watching mere moments ago.

Of all things she expected to see, Akaza tending to something in an irori’s pot while she laid in a futon a few feet away from him was not one of them. He was stirring something he had cooking over the open flames, his dual-colored eyes focused on the broth. The glow of the flames danced and reflected off of his skin much as they had done on the ceiling, highlighting his features to her from the angle she observed him in.

He has long eyelashes…

It was an odd thought, but it was one of the first things she noticed, the very first being how much his eyes stood out even in the dimness of the room they were in and the fierce glow of the irori’s fire. The blue of his sclera was shattered with dark veins, the brilliant color reminding her of a cloudless, sunny day, his striking golden irises taking the role of the sun for themselves.

What does that make his eyelashes then? Pink and full…Maybe an oncoming sunset?

Again, a strange thing to think about. She was just soothingly fascinated by his natural colors and how much they actually stood out. His nature as a demon and the terrible things he had done set aside, Akaza was quite beautiful in his own regard, but maybe that was her artistic side talking. She used to be the type who appreciated that sort of thing, but every now and again, that side of her personality peeked up from the murky depths they now hid beneath to help her cope with the world around her.

He was, after all, the reason why Rengoku was gone.

“You’re awake.”

The comment startled her some, causing her to shift slightly on the futon as she turned her focus to the demon as a whole. Had he maybe heard her head moving? Or maybe he saw her eyes open from the corner of his? Who knows? He seemed the observant type, something that was taken to an extraordinary level when paired with a demon of his caliber.

“Good to see. I was starting to wonder whether you’d be out cold ‘til morning.”

He didn’t look at her as he spoke. His eyes remained on the pot and what he was stirring, his free hand resting in a fist upon his lap. The expression on his face was one of neutral concentration, not aggressive nor particularly friendly. He just…was. Paying attention not to burn whatever it was he was brewing.

“Wh…Where…” She began to speak, her throat feeling raw, her voice sounding not like her own to her. She frowned in distaste, weakly clearing her throat and swallowing the dry lump before continuing. “Where am I…?” Her voice came out in a murmured whisper, almost lost to the crackling of the lively flames of the irori, but not to Akaza.

“In an old cabin, I guess is the best way to describe the place.” He hummed thoughtfully, his expression softening with a light purse of his lips as he pondered his choice of words. “I found it a long time ago. Abandoned. So, it’s my cabin now.” He corrected himself, nodding his head, satisfied with the clarification.

“Your cabin…” She echoed, her eyes wandering away from him to take a better look at the cabin. There didn’t seem to be any signs of struggle anywhere she looked. No claw marks on the walls, no broken bits of furniture scattered on the ground, no old bloodstains forever soaked up by the wooden floor. The only thing that was slightly out of place was the fact that the windows were boarded shut, but seeing as he had come to claim the place as his own, it made sense that they would be that way. “Why did you bring me here…?”

“You weren’t making a whole lot of sense back in the woods, but if I had left you where you were in the state you were in, you’d be dead by now. I knew you’d be safe here until you woke up, so I just brought you with me.” He replied matter-of-factly as he pulled the ladle he was stirring with out of the pot to prop it on one of the handles. Turning to the other side of him, she watched him pick up a cup he had waiting on the floor before taking the ladle once again and dipping it into the pot. He poured a little over two ladles full of the broth he had cooking, steam wafting above the cup he handled with care. Once it was full, he propped the ladle back on the pot’s handle and stood to his feet. Her gaze followed him as he walked over to her, their eyes meeting while he closed the short distance between them until he was kneeling down by her bedside.

“Sit up.”

She knew what he said was more of an order than it was a request, but the way he said it and the gentle way he looked at her confused her by suggesting it came from a good place. It was bizarre, to say the least, the way this demon spoke to her with such…decency despite the unwavering firmness of his voice. Her brow furrowed slightly at the detail, her lips parting the slightest bit more so in bemusement than with intention of speaking.

“Ah,” He seemed to realize something when she didn’t react after a few seconds. “That’s right. Human. You’re human…” He muttered to himself, carefully setting the steaming cup on the floor beside him before turning back to her, his hands coming to rest on his laps again.

“Do you need help?”

Do I need help…?

What was going on? This is the demon that killed Rengoku? How? He was treating her with respect and even offering to help her sit up if she couldn’t do so herself. She had heard of the other demon on the Mugen Train, Enmu, who had lured people in with false kindness of sweet dreams before he plunged them into horrific nightmares, but Akaza didn’t have that kind of profile. From what she was told, he was an abrupt and upfront fighter; someone who didn’t beat around the bush and got straight to the point. He wasn’t a manipulative demon. He was a close-range demon who fought for the sport of it, starving for the thrill of a challenge like the one Rengoku had to offer that night.

This demon isn’t at all what she expected to be confronted by when she set out to the woods tonight.

Even in her baffled silence, he patiently waited for some kind of response from her, no annoyance or hasty agitation in the way he looked at her. His hands remained on his laps, not moving an inch to touch her, but his striking stare did remain on her face, studying her the same way she studied him. That is, until his gaze had shifted towards the cup at his side, his head nodding in its direction as well before he refocused on her.

“It’s an herbal tea. I went to fetch some water and to find the herbs and roots I needed to make it for you while you were asleep. You’re weakened from your work with the lessers. I noticed. This should help.” He informed her, offering a small smile to appear friendlier. He understood her apprehension. If their roles were switched, he’d be apprehensive too. From a human’s perspective, what was a demon supposed to be serving them from a pot of a boiling brew they couldn’t even see because of their incapacitated state? It really could be anything, so it’s not like he expected her to fully believe him the moment he brought it over and explained it to her.

Hell, even he couldn’t believe he had this herbal remedy stored away somewhere in his faintest memories.

He supposed it made some sense. He was human once, but that was centuries ago. Yet, he somehow remembered the recipe and what he had to look for as if he had made the tea every day since he was turned.

Something about her triggered the memory, that was all he was sure about.

“…How do I know you’re not lying…?”

He let out an amused breath, his head tilting again in his good humor.

“I guess you don’t. You just have to take my word for it.”

She shook her head the slightest bit at him, a distant look befalling her as her lips angled into an exhausted frown.

“Why didn’t you kill and eat me…?” She asked, the question leaving her so naturally, it unsettled her; unsettled her how much she wanted to know; unsettled her how much she had wished he had been what she had expected. Something in her told her he had ulterior motives. That he was keeping her alive to make the thrill of the kill more exciting in some way or another. Maybe he thought if he gave her the idea of being spared, she would take back her death wish and be eager to escape to the village. Then, he could enjoy the chase, too, before inevitably sinking his fanged maw into the tender flesh of her neck when he tackled her onto the ground.

Akaza, however, didn’t answer her question. He simply stared at her, the small smile he had given her straightening the slightest bit but retaining its foreign friendliness despite it. Genuine.

“Would you like me to help you sit up so you can drink your tea?” He repeated his question instead, making no move to place his hands on her if she didn’t answer him. She considered denying him, but she supposed she didn’t have much to lose either way she went about this. So, she finally gave him a small nod of her head.

“Please…”

His smile widened up a bit once more when she accepted his help, giving her a curt nod of his own in return. Reaching over, he folded the futon’s comforter halfway so the upper half was resting on her legs. Once he did, he turned to her as she began to prop herself up carefully on her elbows. She would wince with each move she made, he noticed. As gently as he could, he slid one of his hands down her back until he had it pressed against the middle of it, slowly pushing her upward while his other hand took a hold of hers to help give her more support.

His hand felt warm to her. Probably warmer than it should be, since he had been holding the steaming cup of tea. Looking upon his larger, masculine hand, taking in the feeling of his calloused palm wrapped around her own, she took notice that the blood from the other demon he fought earlier was gone from his skin. Her eyes traveled up his arm, across his chest and down his other arm. Nothing. The blood was gone, cleaned away probably while she was asleep. For a second, she wondered if the fight had actually happened, but the speckling of blood around what she could see of the ends of his white pants told her otherwise. Images came to mind of the short-lived confrontation he held with the lesser demon as she stared at the bloodstains on his clothing. It was a stark reminder of how powerful this man actually was.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” She repeated her question, her gaze slowly lifting to meet with his once more when he helped her sit up properly. “If you wanted to, you could have done away with me just as easily as you did that other demon…Why didn’t you…?”

His small smile had fallen entirely this time, morphed to a bemused look of his own.

“Why did you want me to kill you?”

The retort caught her off guard. She hadn’t been expecting any kind of questioning on his part of this. He’s a demon, after all. Demons kill and eat humans. That’s just what they do. That’s what they’ve always done. Why would he care for her reasoning? Why did he want to know? She didn’t know, but being put on the spot like that so curtly made her squirm in discomfort, her gaze dropping to her hand he still had gripped in his own.

She had spilled a lot of what she thought about her predicament when she approached him, she knew, but…telling him exactly why was something she didn’t want to do. She didn’t want to tell anyone why. Nobody knew. Nobody had the slightest idea that she had these thoughts running across her mind, and the one person who came closest to uncovering her inner turmoil was dead now. It was an accumulation of a lot of things which caused this spiral in her person, and the thought of saying all of those things aloud left her feeling unbearably shameful and vulnerable in a way she absolutely abhorred.

Akaza didn’t press. He simply pulled his hand away from her back and picked up the cup of herbal tea, bringing it down to their joined hands. There, he released hers and placed the cup in her grip, wrapping both of his hands around her own this time to make sure she held onto it properly. When she didn’t lift her head nor squeeze the cup on her own, he leaned down and peered up at her, offering a gentle, patient smile.

“You should drink it while it’s warm. It’ll be good for you.”

At first, as soon as his face came into her line of sight, she turned her eyes away from his, looking off to the wall on the right of them. When she felt him lightly squeeze her hand in both of his, however, she hesitantly looked back again. His eyes were softly narrowed, masking some of the kanji in both of his irises, and through them, he still gave off that friendly vibe he’s been carrying from the start.

His hands completely covered both of hers, enveloping them in a warmth she didn’t expect him to radiate. She had assumed it was from the cup of tea, but both of them felt the same way and it wasn’t changing after he put the cup down. She had always expected the touch of a demon to feel…cold. Chilling. Yet, his wasn’t. It was the kind of soft warmth you’d seek out during a cold winter’s day. The type of warmth you’d want wrapped around you when you feel scared and need comfort. The type of warmth you’d hide in during a stormy night to help lull you to sleep alongside the melodies of pattering rain. How could something so…wholesome radiate from someone like him? She didn’t know how she was supposed to take this nor how she was supposed to react. Should she really believe in that friendly gaze and patient smile? Should she buy into the kind act he was showing her?

Without a doubt, she would be a fool if she did.

She gave him a small nod of her head and squeezed the ceramic cup in her hand. He pulled his hands away from her own when she did, bringing them back down to his laps as he straightened up his posture again. She followed his lead and straightened up a bit as well, her gaze dropping again to peer into the cup she brought close to her chest in both of her hands. There were herbs floating in the amber-tinted brew, partly living up to the demon’s explanation. Bringing it closer to her face, she took a curious whiff of the drink, noting that the earthy aroma she picked up on earlier had come from the tea. Letting out a shaky breath, she dropped her shoulders and caved, finally deciding to bring the edge of the cup to her lips to take a gulp of the warm brew.

After the first two gulps, she pulled the cup away from her and grimaced heavily, making a face of clear distaste. It certainly tasted like a medicinal tea, that’s for sure. Actually, it tasted almost identical to the remedies the medics at the Butterfly Estate often had her take whenever she was brought in with injuries. Granted, she may be wrong about that. All those herbal remedies tasted the same to her: like dirt. She never liked drinking them, and this tea Akaza had given her tasted just like the others. She didn’t want to take another sip, but when she peeked over in his direction, he was staring at her pointedly, lifting an eyebrow at her in question. She didn’t need to be told what that look meant. The medics gave her similar looks whenever she reacted this way…It was just jarring to receive that look from a demon of the twelve Kizuki.

Deciding not to try her luck as she often did with the Butterfly medics, she tentatively brought the cup back to herself, stalling in awkward pauses until she eventually pressed it to her lips once again. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, so she just went for it. She shut her eyes tight and drank the warm tea in large gulps, slightly tilting her head back to take in all the liquid while doing her best to avoid the leaves in her way. When there was barely anything left, she pulled the cup away from herself again and dry-heaved to the right, a short series of coughs following soon afterwards.

Akaza chuckled a bit at that, taking the cup away from her and setting it to the side once more before leaning over to pat at her back with minimal strength in the gesture. Only just enough to help her get over her coughing fit.

“I take it you’re not a tea type?” He questioned, smirking lightly in amusement.

“Medicinal tea tastes like mud…If that is what that was…”

She replied without missing a beat this time once she had calmed down, shakily bringing her hands up to wipe at her eyes and face. When she pulled them away, she looked at her palms and narrowed her eyes in confusion for a moment. There were…red streaks covered all over them. When she realized it was blood – dried blood she must have dabbed onto her hands when she wiped the tears off of her skin – her hands began to tremble before balling up into tight fists and quickly falling to her sides out of her sight. All of a sudden, she became all too aware of the scent of blood on her person – the demon’s blood Akaza had wiped on her back in the forest before everything went dark.

“Oh, that’s right,” He commented, beginning to stand to his feet with her cup in his hand. “You probably want to wash off after what happened earlier, right? Let’s go do that now.” She looked up at him when he said that, watching his back as he walked to the other side of the cabin to place the cup on the dresser before he opened up one of the top drawers. He pulled out an old towel from within, gray in color. Then, he wandered over to the closet and pulled out a small wooden washing basin which he tucked the towel into.

When he heard no kind of reaction or response from her, he turned around and lightly waved the basin in her direction.

“You do want to wash away the blood, don’t you?”

Again, he was being so polite and considerate. It threw her off, and perhaps in the right state of mind, she would’ve rejected his kindness and labeled it a manipulative fraud. Right now, however, she simply saw it as an odd direction life was taking her in, completely skewed from the one she had chosen to walk upon earlier this evening. Maybe it was also because she was desperate to get rid of the scent of blood on her. Normally, she was completely accustomed to it, but having it on her person like this, mixed with her tears, with what she had dreamed of still in her head? It was suffocating.

“…Yes, please…”

“So polite~” He mused lightheartedly, walking over to her bedside once more, but this time, he simply bent down by the knees, his legs spread on either side of him with ease, his free hand resting upon his left thigh. Offering her a more playful grin this time, he handed her the basin with the towel, and once she accepted them, he propped both of his hands on his knees as he looked her in the eyes once again. “Right, then. I figure you can’t walk much right now, can ya? ‘Course not. You’re pretty beat up. So, do you want me to help again?”

“I…I-I suppose I need your help, yes…” She really couldn’t deny it. She had been a wreck when she wandered into these woods, and right now? There was no way she could do much of anything without it hurting her like hell. Acting like she could walk without support through the woods on her own again would be a pathetically obvious display.

“Right. Okay, hold tight.” When she had been expecting him to help her to her feet so she could walk with her arm over his shoulders, he had surprised her by instead pushing the comforters of the futon completely off of her before scooping her up in his arms, one hooked beneath her knees and the other coming to wrap around the back of her waist. Easily, he propped her body up against his chest, secure in his grip. Tight and cozy.

_______, in response, stiffened up something fierce, ignoring the ache it forced to spread throughout her body. Her arms hugged the basin he had given her tightly against her chest, her nails digging into the wood while she stared up at him wide eyed.

“Comfortable enough? Is it okay for my hands to be where they are?”

His…hands?

What kind of a question was that? He cared about something like that?

“I-I…Y-yes, this is fine…”

“Okay, good. Tell me if that changes on the way.”

She really couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This man – this demon – had gone from crushing and dismembering one of his own kind brutally without an ounce of remorse, to making her medicinal tea and caring about the way he touched or held her. It totally, completely contradicted everything she thought she knew and left her floating in a strange feeling of vacillation and gray areas.

This wasn’t how the night was supposed to play out.

Yet, there she was, being carried out of this demon’s cabin, snug in his arms.

On the way out into the cedar woods, she even became acutely aware of his large hand pressed firmly against her waist, propping her up against his chest. She could feel each individual inked digit of his digging securely into her waist to keep her close to his person and safe from falling. She could feel his palm splayed on her side, radiating with that surprising warmth of his even through her uniform. Come to think of it, pressed up against his bare chest like this, she could feel his body radiated that same warmth as well.

She could have told him to move his hand if she wanted to, but decided against it.

The warmth felt soothing.

Familiar.

Instead, she allowed her head to lull against his bicep and for her eyes to slowly close as she watched him walk them away from the cabin, the light of the flames within still somewhat visible through the sliding doors.

Instead, she decided to keep pretending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for making it this far and supporting me and my work! I hope you've been enjoying the story up to now and that it's been meeting expectations! <3 Your support encourages me to continue with this series, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for caring and interacting with it! <3 God bless you all and til next time! <3

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fimproda · 10 months

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Welcome / Fanfiction Masterlist

(This is a long post. Bear with me: I'm unable to stop the flow of words that come out of my mouth. It's why I love writing.)

Hello there!

As I plan on using this account primarily to advertise my stories, here's a "brief" rundown of my authorial profile. Please note that each and every one of my works is R-Rated, and with good reason. (I like myself some smut.)

@zoyalannister and I are co-authors on AO3, and under our names is the The Last Flowers series, in which we hold back no blows towards Cassandra Clare's truly idiotic plot and characterization in The Last Hours and attempt to write something decent. TLF is comprised of:

Hydrangea, a three-part, Grace-centered minilong which takes place between Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron;

Daisy, a six-part, Cordelia-centered minilong spanning from the Whispering Room scene in Chain of Gold to the end of Chain of Iron;

Chrysanthemum (upcoming), a nine-part fix-it of that trash fire that is Chain of Thorns;

Geranium, an AU stemming from a particular plot point in Hydrangea;

Petals, a collection of missing moments from the series.

Please note that I am zoyalannister's friend, co-author and beta reader for a reason, and any defense of Chain of Thorns will not be tolerated on this blog. (I might be joking, or I might not. Find out at your expense.)

As a solo writer, I've been active for a while in the A Court of Thorns and Roses fandom with the Under the Stars series, posting, as of today:

Constellations, a Nessian-centric minilong which takes place about a year after the events in Silver Flames;

In the shadow of a dream, a Gwynriel one-shot that sets the scene for a future Gwynriel long;

Space dust, a collection of 31 drabbles for Kinktober.

If you're interested about this fandom, want to know more about my stories (current or future), want to hear me proselitizing about how SJM is a truly great writer and suffers from too much negative publicity, or simply want to chat, I'm here for this very reason.

You can also find me on Wattpad, where my "career" actually started. If there's someone between you who can read Italian and fancies themselves some mediocre The Mortal Instruments fanfiction, you can visit my Wattpad profile and be faced with these ol' things:

Remembering the Past, the first fanfic in a trilogy in which I tried to imagine what life after City of Heavenly Fire might have been like for our beloved heroes;

Living the Present, which is RtP's sequel;

Seeing the Future, which in turn is LtP's sequel and concludes the trilogy, as well as starting a new plotline with a fresh set of characters who star as protagonists in this next story I'm about to cite;

House of Cards, a Watty award-winning first story of a tetralogy I never got to write in its entirety. HoC is pretty sweet tho, if I do say so myself, and you can read it even if you know nothing about the Past, Present and Future trilogy.

The stuff on Wattpad is quite old and I'm not posting there anymore, as I now find AO3 more suitable for the kind of stories I write, and also a more "fanfiction-friendly" and "English-friendly" website. But I still respond to comments and interact with readers, since that's the bare minimum in my opinion.

And... this is all I have to say. Nice meeting you all!

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miraculous-floconfettis · 11 months

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Guess who was supposed to work on "Le battement d'ailes du Papillon" but got stuck and needed to take some distance from it and then got inspired by the last episodes "Revolution" and "Representation" and thought of a fanfic and has already written 2000 words for it instead? 👀

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the-baddest-of-batches · 12 days

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May the 4th be with YOU

And just because today is all about...the 4th, I had to take my favorite "force" hating clone and announce his second novel today of all days.

Aay'Han is here! Check it out and read the prologue now on both Wattpad and Ao3!!

Read on Wattpad:

Read on AO3

The Clone War is long over, but the fight hasn't left Kian. Without a family or a place to call home, Kian is the perfect candidate to lead one of the greatest secret operations of the Empire: Winterfang. As their new commander, he will finally have a chance to turn the tide his way, on his terms.

But there are threats in the universe greater and deadlier than droids, even civil war. Aru'e, the enemy, waits. But if Kian knows one thing, it is war, death, and the unending fight for survival. But for how long will he have to fight?

And can he survive another war hellbent on taking away his newfound family?

Also if you haven't read the first book of this loosely connected series, check out Dar'Aliit on Wattpad and AO3 as well and see how Kian's story began.

Dar'Aliit on Wattpad

Dar'Aliit on AO3

Or read more about Kian's clone wars adventures alongside Headshot and the Coruscant guard in Hand of Fate also available on both sites:

Hand of Fate on Wattpad

Hand of Fate on AO3

#fanfic #may the 4th #may the force be with you #may the 4th be with you #star wars day #star war fanfic release #new fanfic #clone trooper oc #story of the umbaran cadet #clone wars #read on ao3 #read on wattpad #reading #reblog is appreciated #chiss oc #chiss ascendancy #asajj ventress #star wars a new hope #star wars

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chameleonlibrary · 1 year

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"Faith Lines"

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Visually Impaired!Reader Summary:

(After S2E1) The Mandalorian defeated the Krayt Dragon. That was great! But... It made him re-think his life choices. Peli Motto offers him to stay a bit longer at Mos Eisley to hang out with the kid at an upcoming festival. Not only to clear his head, although... Who knows what else he finds? Trigger(? warnings: Use of Y/N (For you to use InteractiveFics), Mild Violence (but it's Canon-Typical, Touch-Starved Characters, Fluff Wordcount: 4,502 A/N: my first time posting on Tumblr. this is also on Wattpad and AO3.

I: faith

Would taking a breather hurt?

After fighting this worm creature , Mando low-key pondered about what would come in the future… He found himself cradling his small goblin in his arms. It scared him the day that he could fight something much bigger than him and maybe, not come back to his kid. He lived for the danger and the money that came within. How the priorities have changed in his life一 this child was his everything now.

Peli was as quiet as him, eyeing him up and down, with a concerned face. She was used to not hearing much from him, but this time it felt different. "Hey, why don't you stay here for the festival?" The mechanic snapped him out of his thoughts. The helmet tilted at her in confusion and she gave him a cheeky grin.

"Now and then, there's a festival from out-towners and they have games, food, and all of those shenanigans. You could crash here," she offered. "Thank you." He replied. "Don't mention it. Serves you well to spend time with the kid!" She cheered up. He only nodded. Said and done, the Mandalorian slept on his ship at the hangar.

By the morning, Mando decided to help Motto around with incoming ships. The kid was taken care of between the droids and his space dad, just to keep him out of trouble. It was a pretty productive evening, and he even got extra credits as a tip. The sky's bright blue color started to fade into a stunning hue of purples and oranges, announcing that the day was coming to an end.

Peli started a small fire to warm both of them up and carried the child, talking to him and pampering him. It was somewhat quiet, until the sound of cracking powder made the child whine, hiding in Peli's arms, alerting the Mandalorian. He got in a fighting stance, hand near his blaster holder, and crouched pose.

The mechanic let out loud laughter.

"Oh, Mando! Relax! I bet it's the firecrackers from a game." She reassured him and cooed the baby to calm him down as well.

They walked to the entrance and peeked their heads out. To their surprise, the whole street was filled with small stands with colorful tents above them. Lightbulbs decorated the wires and edges of houses; many people were walking around and could hear the laughter of children.

"Wouldn't you like to see it? Let's go, little one!" She hyped up the baby and it cooed back. The mechanic rushed to the stands, pointing out things for the kid. Mando followed right behind, his posture loosening, and lowered his defense, taking the time to admire each stand they stopped by.

He chuckled silently every time he saw his child reach out for anything that caught his big eyes, whining every time he couldn't get anything to grasp. They stopped at a big game stand that had toys on display. The child squealed and pointed at one of them, pleading for any of his tutors to reach out for one.

"Play a round, win one!" the owner exclaimed.

Unexpectedly, a small blue stuffed teddy bear started to float towards the child and Mando saw how the baby had its little hand out, eyes closed, and making strained noises. "No, no, no. You have to earn it fair and square." Mando stopped the toy midair before anyone else could notice it and the baby protested. He put it back where it belonged, checking out the whole stand.

It was a classic colorful bullseye with darts game一 the higher the score, the better the toy.

"You should go in for a game. Bet you can't get all the points," the mechanic teased. She earned a proper small chuckle from his voice modulator. "Can you?" he challenged back. Peli's posture straightened up and gave him a cocky smirk, handing him the kid.

"Hey, you!" She approached the owner. "One round here!" "One credit, ma'am!" The kind man extended his hand, and she slapped the currency right on the palm. The man handed her three little white darts with colored feathers on the tail. Peli licked her lips, and stuck out her tongue between her teeth, narrowing her eyes. She threw the first one, and it hit right in the center.

"Watch and learn, kid! Your cool aunt is about to get you a nice toy." She winked at the kid, the little one only tilted his head. She breathed out and started to measure the second one, balancing it on her hand.

The man in beskar observed carefully, until he felt a heavy shove behind him, making him stumble to the front; the baby whined in annoyance.

"Oh, I'm very sorry!" A hooded figure quickly said, not even turning around.

They didn't even notice they dropped a candle. Mando turned to see how the person was rushing away to an eerie-looking stand, but it already had people surrounding it. He sighed and picked up the candle, examining it carefully and analyzing the symbols in it. The baby reached for it and with his claws clinging to it, his dad allowed it.

"Dank Farrik!"

His head turned back to the short woman and the board. The second dart hit 2 rows away from the first and third turn, laying on the dirt.

"But you saw that it hit! It just fell!" she protested. "I'm sorry, ma'am!" the guy shrugged. "Rules are rules. It's got to be on the board or it doesn't count" "Aw, come on... But did I earn anything?" she asked. She got handed a hand-carved wooden frog. "Kid's going to choke on this!" She groaned and clicked her tongue. The short woman sighed in disappointment and walked towards them. " 'Til next time, I suppose," she shrugged and showed Mando the figure. Motto noticed the candle and peeked at it.

"What's that?" She took it carefully from his little claws, and the hunter gave the baby the frog figurine instead. "Someone was in a rush... From there" he signaled the spot with his head. "It's probably important, you should give it back." Peli handed him back the wax object, carrying the baby in her arms.

It was impressive to him how long the line was for a lonely-looking spot. A dark-colored tent with a dim light shining on the inside, and a big lizard-looking humanoid, hunched on a seat to guard the entrance.

He moved past the long thread of people, and a few looked at him in anger, mumbling protests. The guard got aware of it and stood from his chair.

"Hey, back to the line," the creature snarled. Mando didn't budge and only showed him the candle. "Whoever works here, dropped this," he stated. The lizard snatched it roughly from his hand, narrowing its eyes to him and huffing through their nostrils. They disappeared inside the tent briefly and came out fast. "Now get lost." He crossed his arms. Didn't need to tell Mando twice, he turned on his heel and walked away, shaking his head.

"What are they selling?" Motto asked and Mando shrugged. "I'm not sure. The bouncer didn't seem very happy," he pointed back with his thumb.

A few moments passed when some scared yelps could be heard from behind. The previous hooded figure was getting thrown out of the tent, with a painful grunt and a roll on the dusty ground.

"Take it back!" A roar could be heard, belonging to a much bigger creature than the bouncer, stomping angrily out of the tent. People scattered away in fright, and Mando jumped in action, rushing towards the hooded person on the floor. "Ma'am, please! They're not always true! You can always change it" they pleaded, struggling with trying to get up. It huffed and stomped towards the figure, raising a hand, ready to slam it down on their body.

They only covered themselves, waiting for a strike.

Clank!

As if holding a shield, the Mandalorian had his arm raised, holding back the fist of this big woman. He groaned in restraint, getting slightly pushed back by the strength. On a swift move, he shoved off her hand, making her waddle back.

She looked at her fingers and shrieked in terror.

"You broke my nail!" She cried out, hugging it towards her chest. Her face dramatically turned to the bouncer, with a disgusted expression. "I am never coming back! You speak bantha shit!" She stormed away, bumping into people on her way out. Mando turned to the hooded person, kneeling next to them.

"I told you, Y/N." The lizard crossed his arms. "You can't always say what "the lines" tell you." The metal helmet whipped to him, but said nothing. He sighed in disappointment.

You managed to get up on your own, slowly pacing towards the cover, with your head down. The lizard spoke to you in an unknown tongue, to which you just bowed to him and turned back to the Mandalorian, bowing to him as well. "Thank you for your help..." You softly thanked him. You straightened up and disappeared inside your little business place.

"Mando! What happened? Everyone scrammed away like flies!" Peli's voice squeaked in surprise as she ran towards him. "A Mandalorian?" The man asked, scratching his chin in interest. "That's right, pal! Great fighter and the best at what he does: getting the job done!" Motto grinned, patting softly his shoulder pad.

"I'm out of commission..." He mumbled back, crossing his arms and tilting his weight on one leg. "I'll pay you credits," he said as he reached his large hand for a pouch on his belt. "This could be enough for... Whatever you might be needing right now"

Mando puffed out his chest.

"He'll do it!" The mechanic quickly replied. The helmet's visor stared at her. The mechanic bounced the baby on her hip as if it was a reminder.

Mando sighed loudly and extended his hand. The bouncer gave him a mocking smile, turning the pouch upside down, and letting two credits drop from it.

"Hey, what...?" Confused and looking down at the currency. "I'll give you the rest after I've had my drink. Think of your child, first." It tilted his head, taking the bag back into his belt.

The Mandalorian clenched the credits and said nothing else.

The lizard walked past him, bumping against his shoulder intentionally; got close to the short lady, eyeing down the kid, making him hide in his auntie's arms... He chuckled and made his way to the closest cantina.

Peli approached and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll take care of the little one, don't worry... You might need the money right now. I'll wait for you at the hangar with dinner."

"What happened with taking a break?" "An extra won't hurt."

The metal man kept the credits and walked inside the small tent.

Past the bead curtains, he saw you in front of a small wooden table, with your head down, mumbling some things he couldn't quite understand. The faint smell of incense filled his nostrils along with burnt wax. Candles were carefully placed around you and the table as well. The subtle noise of floor crunching alerted you, lifting your head quickly, and placing your hands on top of the table. Your golden bracelet heavily scraping on the surface.

"Oh, hello again..." Your voice greeted him in a low but friendly tone. The Mandalorian didn't say much. He was only observing his surroundings and looking in curiosity at the peculiar decoration. Small cabinets and shelves with all kinds of jewelry, quartz, and other curiosities on display.

"Would you like me to read them?" You interlaced your fingers on top of the table. "I don't believe in these kinds of things..." he mumbled. "I'm not asking you to believe. But, would it hurt to try?" You nodded with your head to the empty place before you, offering your palms. The man briefly hesitated, but slowly approached and sat down across. He unsheathed his blaster, placing it near him on the table. He put his palms upwards.

You reached out to him, weighing him briefly on top of yours, humming. You felt how he had tensed up when your hands touched him.

"Wow... Very interesting. I see here you'll have 3 dogs and a small house!" You gasped as you rubbed his fingers, feeling the leather. "...Really?" He leaned to see closer his hands. "No. I need you to take off the gloves." You snickered at the joke. Mando grumbled. "Relax... I'm not going to cut them off... Please?" You patted the back of his hand softly. He grunted softly in discomfort, but then there was a shifting noise of the fabric being slipped off and slapped down on the table.

Once again, his hands made contact with yours.

The Mandalorian seemed confused as to what was happening to him. The warmth was making him uneasy and his expression was beginning to change to that of concern... It seemed he was very much willing to fight if needed, but the warmth he felt made him a bit hesitant. He seemed to be feeling a little more vulnerable than he usually would... As if he was letting his guard down, but it was like a weird embrace.

"In this life," you started. "There's something that we're born with..." You squeezed his right hand. "...And what we have lived so far." Then his left one. "The lines within our palms can tell a lot more than we ever dare to reveal. They don't tell us with precision our future, but the outcome of our choices. We are all in charge of our destiny, after all.” You weighed his hands on yours, bouncing them slightly. “What they could reveal... Can always turn out right or be inconclusive. They can crack, change or grow with time... But it's all up to us." You put his hands together, getting his pinky fingers to touch side to side. Your thumbs through his palms feeling the callouses and scars that decorated his skin. For no reason, there was blush creeping up your cheeks, and you thanked the stars for the cowl covering it.

"Big hands... Rough skin. The hands of a philosopher and a worker... Your creases are outstanding and lines are very well defined." You mumbled out loud. "What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned. "Trustworthy." You grinned. His chest plate raised briefly in a chuckle. "This is interesting..." You hummed.

"Life... Cracks. In both hands..." You ran your thumb on the line between his index and his own thumb. “You had no choice back then... Your path was changed; taken away..." You squeezed his right hand. His curiosity made him silent. The visor observed the work of your fingers on his hands. The softness of your touch made his chest flutter at the sensation, but the tension on his palm made you realize his brain remained in a “fight or flight” response.

"And it continues, but once again it splits... A choice to be made. To hold on to it or let go." You pressed your thumb's fingertip on the soft mound under his left thumb. The man’s fingers went a bit soft after that and closed under your touch ever so slightly. "Don't worry much. I'm sure the people you found so far in your path, will support you," you tried to assure him. You turned his hands, holding his fingers. "Be smart. Choose your battles wisely." You rubbed his knuckles affectionately.

"Thank you for allowing me to look into your hands, it's been my pleasure." You bowed your head, your forehead touching his fingernails for a moment. You expected him to pull his hands away... But he didn't. Instead, his touch lingered and squeezed your fingers back.

Your breath hitched slightly, thrown off by this. Even past the dark glass of his visor and over your cloak, his eyes were fixated on you. Nothing else existed but this moment. "Are you done?" Malek’s slurred voice brought you back, making you pull away from his touch. The Mandalorian slipped back his gloves, getting up as he picked up his blaster and kept it into his holster once again. "Here's the rest," the lizard man threw to Mando's chest, a small pouch with credits. "Now, get out." He grumbled. The armored man didn't say much. He looked over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you," he nodded and took long strides to the exit. You got up as well, standing in front of your guardian, extending both hands at him. "What?" He scorned. "My part, of course..." You replied. "Right..." He mumbled. The cold feeling of currency dropping on your hands made you fuzzy. You eagerly pulled your hand to your chest, counting the coins with your finger and the happiness didn't last long.

"I can barely afford today's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast..." You extended your hand back at him. "Then I guess you'll have to earn it with more blabbering about destiny and all your crap," Malek smirked with malice. You huffed as a reply.

"You always end up having half of what people pay me, it's not always enough..." You calmly explained. "Well, it should! You already have where to work, and a roof over your head! Be thankful!" The lizard's hands reached out for your wrists, pulling you closer to him as he shook you in a rather aggressive way.

Your coins got scattered to the ground and the table with loud clattering. Loud enough.

You groaned in pain at the grip and scrunched your nose at the smell of the spotchka on his breath. "Maker, alright!" You complained, trying to free your hands off him.

"Let go." A modulated voice spoke from behind him.

The bouncer slowly turned his head, only to meet a blaster gun pointed at his face. "Mind your business, metalhead," Malek hissed. The bouncer locked his forearm around your neck, straining you against his chest. Between the struggling and shuffling, your cowl slid off your head. The Mandalorian froze. You gasped and lowered your sight.

"Did he do that to you...?" The helmet tilted.

"I can do much worse. Don't test me, Mandalorian," the humanoid raised their face in a challenging way. The warrior took one step closer and the bouncer took one step back, tightening his arm.

"Get closer and see what happens next!" Malek grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up. You stomped on his foot, making him shout in pain. The humanoid let go and you fell rather hard. Mando shot in reaction and your eyes widened when there was a thud behind you. You started breathing rapidly.

Your head turned to him, reaching your hand out and poking his leg. "...Malek?" You whispered.

No answer.

"We should go." Mando stated, you nodded and felt up the lifeless lizard's hip until you found the hanging bag of credits— he always used to keep it close to him. Not particularly trusting whoever came closer to it, even you—, but now, it was you who hugged it close to your chest. The candlelight that shone on your side, went dark for a moment, making you tense up at the sudden presence. You reached out your free hand to it and the tips of your fingers brushed against the leather of gloved digits. A smile tugged on the corner of your lips and without a second thought, you took it to help yourself up back to your feet. He guided you to go over the body and stopped nearby the table, bending your body over it, blowing the candles. You pulled your cowl back up on your head and hooked your fingers under his arm. He didn’t say anything.

When both of you walked out of the tent, there were no more people around it. Just the sounds of people way further from your spot. As the two of you made your way to the crowded part of the festival, the smell of food perked your senses up, and your stomach growled at it. Out of embarrassment, your free hand rested on your abdomen. "When was the last time you ate?" His helmet turned to you. "Um..." You tried to recall, then shrugged. “I… Am not sure.” He sighed, shaking his head.

His long and hurried strides meant for you to follow his pace. Your steps synced and even felt in a comfortable silence between you. Sometimes, he glanced by the corner of his eye at you; his steps would slow down and his free gloved hand would tap your fingers to make you stop walking and not bump into people. Your ears were sharp at this point, but wouldn't admit that you could hear others footsteps approaching. It was a blatant contrast at how he was before to how caring and protective he had become of you. Even to the point where someone had bumped against you, and with one glance from his, they apologized immediately. Soon enough, the noises started to fade in the background once again and stopped walking. The smell of iron and oil could be perceived… But something else lingered in the air. You were driven into it, unconsciously pulling Mando along with you.

"Why, look who's back!" The mechanic bounced the child on her legs, making it squeal. You stopped on your tracks and blurry imagery was lit by the bonfire near. A short silhouette with a bundle of browns and greens on her legs.

"Could it be a pet?" Your brain pondered for a moment, tilting your head a bit. "And... Company." Her eyebrow raised at you. "They're with me," The metal man assured the mechanic and helped you out to sit by the fire.

"Well," Motto smiled and carried the baby up from her legs, walking to you. "There's enough broth for everyone! Here, hold the womp rat." The mechanic lifted the baby up from her legs and put them on yours.

"Womp rat…?" You echoed in a low and confused mumble.

A curious gurgle came from the kid. You gasped and tried not to move much, hovering one hand behind him to prevent him from falling and the other near him, by instinct. You felt a little scratching on the palm of your free hand; you pressed your hand against it, feeling his little hand on yours. There was a fluttering feeling inside your chest, letting out a little amused giggle. "Well, hi there," you lent him your finger and he gripped on it. You wiggled it a bit and he didn't let go yet.

The hand behind him reached out behind his head and you caressed it softly, bumping into his ears. "Oh my...! Such ears you have, little one!" You exclaimed, carefully brushing it. He cooed back.

"Alright, here you go, uhm… Didn't quite catch your name here." Her brow furrowed as she approached you. "Y/N." You helped the kid turn around, carefully wrapping your arm on his little body, hugging him against you. The mechanic gave the kid a small bowl and for you, a larger one. You brought the broth close to your face, took in the smell and blew softly on it to cool it off, taking small sips from it. Then you dawned it in one large gulp.

Motto's eyebrows raised at you, her jaw hanging up a bit in shock. "Someone was hungry, for sure…" She chuckled in amusement. The baby burped and giggled; you laughed a bit along with Peli. "It makes two of us," you looked down at the green spot.

"This is delicious, thank you." You bowed your head. "And for you, Mando," Motto offered him a bowl, he took it but put it on a side. "Thank you," his helmet nodded at her.

The man in armor didn't move much. His position rested in certain stiffness, watching over your figure and the small one. Peli's eyes flicked between him and you, giving a small nod and a low chuckle in amusement. With one big fake yawn, she took long steps to the side.

" Stars ! Look at the time! I should leave you two! Have a good one!" The short woman gave Mando a pair of thumbs up, sneaking away to her booth.

Behind his helmet, he rolled his eyes at the antic, but with her gone, he sat next to you a considerable distance. The fire crackled, wind blew and the noise from outside slowly died, meaning the festival was coming to an end. Once you made sure it was none else but the three of you alone, you felt daring and comfortable enough to take off your hood and turn to him, with a sad smile. The light from the bonfire reflected on your skin and lit the scars that snaked around your eyes; foggy and their color were dull. "I hope you don't lose your appetite..." You chewed your lip.

The child turned to see you, he whined and you felt his little claw on your chin. You leaned down his face close to him and let out a heartfelt giggle.

"Don't worry. It doesn't hurt. I'm ok, see?" You smiled, trying to comfort the kid's worry. His tiny hand rested on your cheekbone and your heart melted at the feeling. Your nose scrunched at holding back a happy tear from falling off.

"Such a big heart for something as small as you," you touched his forehead with yours, closing your eyes, letting out a content sigh. You straightened back and looked over at Mando — well, what the light allowed you to see of him, as he looked like a blurry shiny figure.

The baby lifted his arms to his space dad and the Mandalorian picked him up, putting him on his legs. "Is he yours?" Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "You could say that," Mando simply replied.

There was a bit of fabric ruffle coming from him. Warmth hovered over your cheek and your posture straightened.

"Can I?" His modulator cracked. You nodded and held back a breath for a moment.

"What happened?" The spaceman ran his knuckles carefully over the side of your face. You blew the air you were holding up at the feeling, but didn't exactly pull away. "Well," you cleared your throat. "I used to live on a spice farm. My family and others worked for some rich people... Not exactly a legal thing, I think. We always had to hide."

The Mandalorian's caresses became even more gentle, and you leaned to it, allowing yourself to share more.

"One day, we got raided by Trandoshands. They weren't exactly gentle. Shooting around and pushing people… I remember hearing a blaster shot and its bounce on the surface. One moment, I was hiding and the next one, everything got blurry and my face burnt..." You covered one of your eyes, pursing your lips at the call back on the feeling.

"I know I wasn't the only one who got hurt. I was sent with the "Undesirables". They captured people, separated families to pay a debt." You chewed your cheek, with certain disappointment. Mando's big palm pressed onto your face, and you leaned into the touch. You put your hand over his, adding a bit of pressure on it and smiled.

His thumb carefully caressed the healed bruises under your eye and cheekbone.

"Malek and his wife took me in with them. She was the one who taught me how to read palms, and gave me this. Too bad she got sick." You shook your right wrist, the bracelet wiggling on your forearm, as it was a bit big on you. "She always said that things happened for a reason..." You peeled off the hand from your face, aligning them together for your fingers and palms to touch. A very noticeable size difference.

"And as for the people we meet, they happen to cross our paths too... All according to what the universe dictates." You intertwined your fingers with his. It felt right to do so. The warrior didn't move, didn't say anything. He just let it be. Between your hands, you felt the wiggling of three little fingers trying to squeeze into the moment. You laughed and your hands separated; your pinky's next to each other's with the little green one in the middle.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" Mando asked and you stared deeply at the fire. "I'm not sure..." You frowned. " I can't go back there..." "Let me help." He gently held your hand with his fingers. "Where to?" You eagerly leaned closer to the helmet. "Nevarro. I know someone. We can leave in the morning." He offered. "Sounds like a plan to me," you smiled.

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dreamingofmarauders · 3 months

Text

I'll Always Love You

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which Y/n feels unloved and isolates herself from the rest, and Sirius wants to know what is going on in his gorgeous girl's mind.

Warnings: Anxiety, feeling low/depressed, isolation, sad, angst, panic attack, points of fluff here and there throughout

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Y/n lay down on the ground, the grass providing a soft yet weak cushion, as she stared up at the sky. Looking up into the outer world, a sense of hopelessness filled y/n. She put a hand out, to reach for the sky. A sky that stretched out wide, out of her reach, just like her happiness and love. Only sadness and dread filled her. Her eyes glossed over.

She was all alone.

It was all fine at first, and her heart ached for the days where she smiled naturally, laughing and enjoying her life so much with friends and family, that she had felt like the luckiest person in the world.

It was the sixth year at Hogwarts and everything was wonderful. Y/n had an amazing group of friends, Lily, Marlene, Alice and on the other side were the Marauders. She would study with Lily and Remus in the library in the evenings, sneaking in laughs in between. Y/n played Quidditch alongside, James, Marlene and Sirius, sparing no effort as she was the best on the team, making James grumble at times but he was proud of her nonetheless. Y/n would listen attentively while Peter explained weird facts no one ever knew. All in all, she was happy.

A soft padding caught her ears and beside Y/n plopped down a figure.

"What are you doing out here, darling?"

Y/n's gaze slowly moved from the blue sky to the striking grey eyes of her beloved.

It was near the spring break and when Y/n thought things couldn't get any better, they did. Sirius and Y/n were out at the astronomy tower, and on their way back, the two were walking peacefully until a pair of footsteps began to echo up ahead. Y/n looked at Sirius with wide eyes, who grazed his eyes over the landscape until they halted upon a wooden door. Sirius grabbed Y/n's hand and ran for the broom closet, ushering her in before closing the door behind. Sirius lit up his wand and felt the breath leave his lungs.

Y/n stared up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, her hands resting upon his chest, the two standing flushed together as the broom closet contained barely any space. Sirius reached down and brushed a strand behind Y/n's hair. Y/n let her eyes shut for a brief second, her heart pounding madly in her chest.

"Y/n," Sirius softly whispered out, "I fancy you." He said straightforwardly. "A lot." He paused awaiting an answer but silence greeted him as y/n processed his statement. "Shit, I genuinely hope I didn't just ruin our friendship-"

Sirius broke off as Y/n pressed her lips to his. It took Sirius a few seconds to process what was happening before he shut his eyes, his hands sliding down to Y/n's waist. It was a slow yet affectionate kiss, and the two slowly pulled apart, foreheads resting together, as they tried to catch their breath.

"I like you too, doofus." Y/n breathed out lovingly.

Sirius softly smiled, "I figured as much, love." Sirius paused, "Would you like to be my girlfriend?" Sirius felt himself melt entirely when he saw Y/n's face beam with happiness.

"I would love to."

Sirius returned her expression, "Perfect." He said, before pulling her in for a kiss again.

After that day, the two were together and strong as ever. Their friends were exhilarated when they found out, revealing they had even placed bets on the couple. Unfortunately, James and Marlene owed the others, for which they cursed the pair playfully as they were happy for their friends nonetheless.

"Y/n?" Sirius spoke out softly. He was beginning to get worried. He knew something was off. Ever since the start of the seventh year, his Y/n's been off and it's killing him not knowing how to help her. "Are you alright, dove?"

"M'fine." Y/n mumbled, closing her eyes once again.

Sirius frowned before speaking, "How about we head inside? We could work on our homework together."

"I already did mine." Y/n replied.

That was a lie.

Y/n had begun to lose her motivation, her energy. She performed well in school and met deadlines. However, now her grades were slowly dropping. She disliked going to class because she hated seeing people, when no one out of the many at Hogwarts truly cared for her.

"Alright then." Sirius drew out, and placed his jacket on the grass, laying down beside his girlfriend.

The y/h/c haired girl peeked through her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Spending time with my girl." He instantly replied, flashing a smile down at her. Despite the heaviness she felt, a very tiny warmth flickered in her heart for a second. A small yet brief smile crawled onto her lips, and Y/n reached out to interlock her fingers with Sirius'. At that, Sirius smiled.

His girl was still in there somewhere.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

"Miss. L/n, a word please." McGonagall said as the final bell of the day rang, signalling the end of lessons and the start of the weekend.

Y/n heaved a breath, already knowing where this was headed. Sirius slightly frowned, wondering what McGonagall could possibly want with his girlfriend, after all, she was one of the smartest students in the entire year.

Sirius threw a small smile at Y/n, telling her he would meet her back in the common room. Y/n nodded and headed to McGonagall's desk while Sirius left through the door.

"Yes, Professor?"

McGonagall studied Y/n for a moment before beckoning her to sit, the latter doing as instructed. "Miss. L/n, I am concerned about your academic performance. You are one of the best performing students and yet, suddenly, your grades have begun to drop, and not just in my class, but your other professors have expressed the same concern."

Y/n released a breath, "I just..." She trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

McGonagall's expression softened. "Have a biscuit, Miss. L/n."

Y/n politely accepted the one offered to her and nibbled on it as McGonagall spoke once again.

"Miss. L/n, I am not just your Head of House but also someone who cares about you, whom you can talk to whenever in need. How are you actually doing, Y/n?"

Y/n's eyes slowly glossed over, "I am sorry, Professor-"

"There is no need to apologize." McGonagall said, "Just remember to take care of yourself and that I am here for you. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n slowly shook her head.

"Very well, you may leave."

Y/n stood up. "Thank you, Professor." She said before rushing out, not noticing a certain grey eyed boy who had been listening in on the conversation. He felt his heart clench.

Y/n was definitely hiding something but he couldn't figure out a way to help her.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

"Everyone line up!" The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor yelled out, as all the students in the room scrambled into a single file line, pushing and shoving each other as they awaited their turn with the Boggart.

With the war coming, it was necessary to review and practice all skills, so even though the students had worked with a Boggart before, the professor thought there was no harm in trying again.

Each student went one by one, until it was Sirius' turn followed by Y/n's.

Sirius paled at what stepped out through the cupboard. It was his mother, followed by his father, dragging along his younger brother, Regulus, who looked so small and fragile and broken. Sirius had faltered, his hand beginning to shake but before he could succumb to his fears and insecurities, he flicked his wand while muttering "Riddikulus!" And the horrible sight vanished to be replaced with a black dog trying to chase his own tail, which managed from Sirius and his fellow marauders, shit-eating grins.

As Sirius stepped aside, Y/n stepped up, her hands beginning to sweat, not prepared for what was to come. In the blink of an eye, the black dog warped into what were Y/n's parents, whose usual faces of kindness and love were replaced with anger and disappointment, and Y/n felt all the breath leave her lungs. Sirius watched with concern, realizing something was wrong.

"How can you disappoint us like this?" Y/n's mother spoke. "We've given you nothing but love, and you can't even complete your education like a normal person!?" Her mother suddenly shouted making Y/n flinch as a tear slid down her cheek. Suddenly, another figure appeared, making Y/n whimper.

Sirius.

Looking broken, disappointed and angry.

Y/n began to shake her head.

"I've given you all my attention since day one and you can't even let me in!? How am I not good enough for you!?" Sirius screeched, making Y/n let out a sob as her body began to shake.

"That's enough!"

And the Boggart disappeared as the real Sirius appeared into Y/n's view as he wrapped his arms around Y/n, who was sobbing loudly. The whole classroom was dead silent, astounded by what had just transpired. Lily and the girls exchanged worried looks while James, Remus and Peter looked on with disbelief.

"It's alright, I'm right here." Sirius whispered into her hair as he rubbed comforting circles into Y/n's back.

Y/n hiccuped and broke away from Sirius, leaving the young Black slightly startled.

"I'm sorry." She said before she ran out of the room, wanting to get away from everything. She ran and ran and ran, until she got into the safety of one of the girl's bathroom cubicles.

Y/n slid down to the floor, crying her heart out. Why was everything so hard? She was being so unfair to the people around her and she hated herself.

Y/n felt her chest begin to tighten and she placed a hand on her chest as she felt herself unable to breath. Her body shivered uncontrollably and her heart felt as if it would jump out of her chest any second.

The door opened and rushed in Sirius, who surveyed the situation and realized what was happening. He knelt down, pressing Y/n's hand to his chest.

"Love, look at me, copy my breathing." He instructed, but Y/n could barely comprehend what he was saying, hell she could barely see his mouth moving as she felt her vision begin to blur.

"Dove, tell me five things you can see." Sirius said, and Y/n drew in a excruciatingly painful breath.

"Y-you, the door, your tattoos, the toilet a-and my hand." She uttered out.

"Good, darling. What can you hear?"

Y/n spoke out a bit slower this time, "Your voice, the sound of rain outside, students moving out in the hall." She finished, taking in a shuddering breath as she felt her body very slowly begin to relax.

"That's it baby girl, you're alright, you're safe." Sirius spoke out gently, rubbing comforting circles into Y/n's hand, which he softly held between his hold.

"I'm so sorry." Y/n said as she kept her gaze on the floor, too embarrassed to look at Sirius.

"Hey, Y/n/n, look at me, love." He placed a finger under her chin and moved her head until she was looking into his eyes.

"Y/n, I love you so much, and I really care for you. It's hard to watch you losing yourself. You will have to tell me what's going on if you want me to help you."

Y/n felt her eyes burn and she buried her face in his chest, as Sirius placed his head upon hers whilst murmuring reassuring words.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. I don't deserve you." You said while crying. "I have been so unfair to you and everyone else and I'm sorry for it."

"Shh. You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry I didn't try harder." He pulled away to cup Y/n's face. "What's going on in that gorgeous mind of yours?'

Y/n let out a small watery laugh as she wiped her tears. "I just don't feel good anymore. I feel so... empty. So hollow and alone, I can't find it in myself to think that there are people in my life that truly do care for me. I can't find the motivation to keep up with school. I don't..." She let out a defeated sigh, "I don't see a point in my life when all I'm doing is hurting and disappointing the ones around me."

Sirius felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He knew something was wrong but he had no idea his beloved Y/n was going through so much. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry, darling, I wish I had known sooner. But believe me when I say this that we all do love you. Lily's been worried and keeps asking me constantly what's on your mind but I had no answer for her." Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You matter a lot. You have no clue what would happen to me if I lost you, you're my life, Y/n. I can't bear seeing you unhappy." Sirius took her hands between his. "I promise you, we will work through this together, you and me, alright?"

Y/n nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over her, making her heart feel warm after a long time. For the first time in a while, Y/n felt loved and felt a certain satisfaction that she was in good hands.

She embraced Sirius tightly.

"I love you."

Sirius smiled, pulling Y/n closer.

"I love you too, darling. I'll always love you."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/N: I hope you all liked the oneshot. I was going to do a birthday party for the reader and everything but I felt this was the best place to end it off.

For anyone ever feeling they are not enough, you are enough and deserve the whole world. If you ever want to talk, just send me a message. :)

I had begun writing this when I was feeling low. I felt unhappy, I couldn't smile, it was a bad phase. I felt that no one around me actually cared for me, but I know some people will always be there for me and others need to be let go (which I suck at doing). I still do at times feel that I will never be enough and no one wants to be around me, but I am trying. Anyways, I love you all so much and you all deserve the world and beyond! I hope you're all doing well and staying smiling! ❤

Love,

Serina

P.S. Also, can someone please get me a Sirius, like where can I get one from? He's too precious 😭

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rearranged-fanfic · 5 months

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Chapter-By-Chapter Part 1; The Prologue - Unfinished Painting

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Links:

Read on Archive of Our Own

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*Spoilers Below*

This fic starts off incredibly melancholy. let's properly set the tone, shall we?

"When death strikes, it’s sometimes a long, slow cut. And sometimes, it’s swift as the blink of an eye. It does so efficiently, without remorse, and without discernment. We all die, in the end."

This is the opening paragraph, the reader's first impression of the story and of our protagonist. We cut to Reader-chan (our Reader Avatar) in the hospital directly after her mother's death. There's a sense of shock and upset, but ultimately, resignation.

We know from the story that her mom had been sick for a while.

"It wasn’t sudden, nor was it unexpected. Mom had been sick for a very, very long time."

"Mom’s death had been a slow cut, festering over months and months until it was long overdue."

This is something she's been preparing for quite some time now. But there's still the undercurrent that she's not dealing well. You'll notice that she has no support structure; there are no others in the hospital with her.

Reader-chan is very much alone. She has few friends, and most of her family is distant or has since passed on.

"I was nineteen when I was made an orphan."

"After Dad had died unexpectedly from COVID complications..."

"And then [the younger sister] become an adult. And she’d left me behind without a backwards glance."

I know you're thinking, 'Author-san', why would you give us such a depressing start? This is so sad'. And, primarily, it's to ease the transition when Reader-chan transmigrates to the JJK world. If she'd have had a family who loved her and supported her, would she have wanted to stay in her new world - which, in this story, is portrayed in an incredibly dark way? For me? I'd say not. I'd claw and scrape and scream to get back to my family, hot fictional men be damned.

When isekai stories have protagonists that just go 'this is my life now', it really tanks my immersion. Especially when they're supposed to be serious dramas. Comedies are a little less glaring, because there's a suspension of disbelief that allows me to excuse more. But dramas? Oh boy, if you have family in your old world, you'd miss them too.

So, her losses before the start of the main story justify her lack of desire to return home - because it is something she struggles with in the first few chapters. Not only that, but it also reinforces her mental strength. She lost her dad and mom within a few years of each other and her sister is globe-trotting, so what could I possibly throw at her that's comparatively worse?

A character that has less to lose or less to return to is easier to manipulate emotionally for the author. There are less hangups, less connections to keep in mind, and less loose ends to tie up when the isekai inevitably ends.

Not only that, but the grief she experiences gives readers an immediate point of connection with her. Most everybody can identify with the loss of a loved one. Whether it's a parent, grandparent, or sibling that has passed away or simply lost touch, that sort of mental anguish resonates with humanity on an intrinsic level. We, as the readers, see her pain and understand it.

And we want to see her pick herself back up and move on from this.

We go from the hospital to her apartment, where she unpacks the last of her mother's belongings.

Reader-chan reveals that she'd been taking care of her mother before her death, for some unknown amount of time. And, in doing so, had let her own life fall by the wayside.

"I’d been able to see my ribs at one point, and my collar bones had become pronounced in the v-necks of my shirts."

"I’d neglected other things, too."

"An easel and canvas lay covered in the corner of the room, doing little more than collecting dust. [...] My book collection was little more than decoration at this point, too."

"I’d just lost my job. [...] I’d gotten fired for taking care of her."

"I wasn’t exactly qualified to do anything else, since I’d dropped out of college [to take care of her mother]."

Things like her health, career, future goals, hobbies, and interests were all discarded. Reader-chan, in dedicating her life to her mom, had completely derailed it.

This is the characterization we get of Reader-chan: she's toxically altruistic. Reader-chan is an incredibly kind person. She's hard-working, fiercely loyal, and selfless. This is to set up not only her desire to save those around her, but her own personal conflict within the story itself.

She can easily be viewed as a doormat, letting others take advantage of her. She bends under pressure, gives pieces of herself with terrifyingly little asked in return, and is unconcerned about her own wellbeing. Which is... very much not okay.

Despite this, we see that she's surprisingly resilient when faced with seemingly-insurmountable odds.

"And I resolved that I was going to go back into the store and talk to my boss"

"I could’ve started doing murals for the businesses in town again. [...] I could’ve paint windows for offices or the brickwork facades downtown, or done commissions for smaller pieces [to pay for her expenses]."

Reader-chan almost immediately starts to make plans to get back up onto her own two feet. Which shows that she's mature for her age, and able to deal appropriately with setbacks as they come. She's also not prone to getting overwhelmed and giving up.

Cut away again, and we find her in the parking lot of her old job, intent on talking to her boss to get it back. And she's trying in vain to get a hold of her distant sister.

She leaves a voicemail, to no avail. And for the first time, we see her truly angry...

"Snapping in anger, gripped the phone so hard that the fragile class façade threatened to break. Part of me hoped it would, that spiderweb cracks overtook it and the screen shattered in my grasp. So I’d lose her number and never have to call her again. Then I’d never have to see her again, either."

... and her immediate regret.

"I’d never see her again, just like Dad. Just like Mom."

"Was that what I really wanted? … Maybe not."

Because, despite the fact that her sister left her behind, she still very much loves her. And, if she cuts her sister loose, she really will be all alone.

I included a strained sibling relationship because, initially, I wanted there to be something that Reader-chan would be conflicted about. Should she rekindle her relationship with her sister - forgive, forget, and move on? Or should she hold a grudge in her heart, even if it leaves her miserable?

When she gets isekai'd, the conflict becomes: should she put forth the effort return home to her sister, knowing that their relationship is only hanging by a thread, or resign herself to her fate in her new universe?

We catch a glimpse of fandom. We know that Reader-chan enjoys a myriad of media, but that it's fallen by the wayside in recent months.

"Only a few manga volumes had been touched, when I’d take them to the hospital to read with Mom; she’d liked looking at the pictures."

"On the rearview mirror, little chibis of my favorite anime characters hang and jingle together."

I made eye contact with tiny Tsunade from Naruto [...] the blindfolded gaze of Gojo [...] next to Levi Ackerman.

So we know that she has a keen interest in manga, specifically, judging from her collection and from the characters she keeps in her car.

After getting off the phone, frustrated and angry with her sister, she attempts to calm herself down by reading through her curated stories page. Which leads to this:

"And I saw a headline titled 'JJK: Fan-Favorite Character Killed in Battle', with a picture of Sukuna next to it."

"Out of curiosity, I clicked on the article and scrolled down, looking for the manga panels in question."

"Because it wasn’t Sukuna dead. Gojo Satoru had been bisected, cut clean through, and left in a pool of his own blood."

Reader-chan reacts like this:

"“Th-that’s not possible, right?” I inhaled through my nose. Out through my mouth. Trying to calm myself."

"I stared at [the tiny Gojo keychain] for a bit, and yanked his chain off the mirror, tossing him into the back seat where I couldn’t look at him anymore. Then I pressed my face into the backs of my hands and screamed at the top of my lungs."

"Because the universe was so fucking funny that it had to play some sort of cosmic joke on me. Because Gege killing off that character just had to happen now!"

Up until now, we've seen her handle everything with a surprising amount of grace. We can tell that she's deeply upset by the loss of her mother, sure, but she's putting on quite the brave face. Or maybe she's simply too shocked to be anguished. yeah... definitely the second option.

"I watched the doctors rush around like I was a thousand miles away, observed from outside of my body as they tried in vain to bring [her mother] back from beyond the threshold."

"I went about my motions like I was piloting myself remotely."

"Even as I unpacked her stuff, I didn’t cry. I was just… empty, I guess. Too tired, or maybe too shocked."

"I still didn’t cry. Not when my whole world was collapsing around me."

But the moment she reads about Gojo's death, it acts as the metaphorical straw. And she's the camel.

"Unable to help myself, I laughed. I laughed so hard that my shoulders shook. And I laughed so hard that the laughs turned to sobs, and then to wails."

"I cried."

"It was ugly, and violent, and so stupid. [...] I cried for what felt like hours."

Initially, I was kind of wary of putting this chapter out into the world because of this moment. Because, yeah, her mom died, but she's going to cry over an anime character? That's the criticism I honestly expected.

"I was an idiot, losing it over some fake guy when I couldn’t even shed a tear for the woman who’d raised me. And though I tried to stop, the waterworks kept coming and coming and coming."

But it makes sense in my mind, because we humans displace our emotions all the time. We get irrationally angry or sad at things and take our emotions out on them. Have a bad day at work? Get mad and kill something on a videogame. Upset? Watch a sad movie and cry about it.

I do this with 'The Fox and The Hound' all the time! I'll put it on and just weep until my eyes and head hurt. And, man, does it feel good! Like, on the days when my emotions are going haywire, like when I'm on my period, I just want to vent.

Gojo's death isn't what makes her sad enough to finally cry, but it gives her the perfect outlet for her emotions. It's a way for her to finally experience the emotional devastation of losing her mom without touching on the raw wound itself. It's a catharsis that she so desperately needs.

Crying really does help her. Sometimes, all you need is a good breakdown to realign your axis.

"And, little by little, I came back to myself."

"In the aftermath, there was a bit of clarity, of peace. The buildup and the release of pressure. [...] Weight lifted off my shoulders and I felt a levity that I hadn’t in months. [...] I felt like I could breathe again. Like my lungs were expanding properly and my heart was beating in my chest instead of my throat."

"Turns out that crying is good for you; who’d have guessed?"

After she cries, she picks herself back up and resolves to push forward. Starting with getting her job back, then ending with possibly rekindling a relationship with her sister.

This is one of my favorite parts of this little chapter because it perfectly encapsulates the whole vibe of 'post-nut clarity'... but for sobbing like a crazy person, obviously. Like, we all have that moment after we cry where everything just sorta clicks into place.

Reader-chan, for a solid moment, is standing tall. And she's putting her own emotions and needs first.

She calls her sister, getting out of her car. And while she's leaving a voicemail, she finally meets her fate.

"But I never got to finish my ultimatum. The screeching of tires cut me off as I whirled around just in time to see the grill of a large truck barreling toward me. And then there was the sickening crunch of bones breaking and somebody screaming."

This is where the isekai truly begins. Because when she dies, she winds up in a black void. And this void is where the next chapter opens.

We have a callback to our first paragraph.

"When death strikes, it’s sometimes a long, slow cut. And sometimes, it’s swift as the blink of an eye. It does so efficiently, without remorse, and without discernment. We all die, in the end."

Keen observers may also notice that prior to being run down, the story is in past tense. Everything past getting struck is in present tense. This is to reinforce the idea that Reader's old universe and life are permanently 'was', while her new world and life permanently 'are'. A little bit of author psychology for you guys.

There's also one of my favorite side stories ever in this: 'The Saga of The Shopping Cart'!

"I scowled when one person pushed their empty cart into another parking spot instead of the cart return. Idiot."

"A gust of wind blew the loose shopping cart in front of me, and I let it cross before making my way towards the building."

"Because that shopping cart had blown onto the road, in front of a vehicle going way too fast. [...] And in a bid to avoid hitting it, the driver had cranked their wheel. And hit me instead."

I love this introduction chapter, because I feel like it gives us a solid foundation for Reader-chan. We immediately know what her motivations are, how she reacts in the worst situations, and whether or not we'll personally identify with her during the series. It also sets the tone really well, in my opinion: dark and sad with a shining glimmer of hope on the horizon.

The title, 'Unfinished Painting', is a reference to both her neglected work in her apartment and to her life being cut short before she can be fully realized.

"Every morning, I gave [the easel with her painting] a nasty side eye, wondering when I’d just get rid of the stupid thing. Maybe it’d be good to start fresh on a new piece."

"I [..] crossed over to where my easel had remained untouched [...] The painting on the canvas was half-finished, a work-in-progress that’d never quite made “progress”. It was an ambitious landscape painting: colorful sunrise breaking over the Colorado Rocky Mountains, with clouds encircling the highest peaks and rays caressing the jagged edges of the cliff faces. It’d been detailed, almost obsessively so, and vivid."

"I traced the edges of the painting fondly. It was supposed to be my best work yet. And it had been. For a time."

The parallels become even clearer when digging into the color symbolism of red paint.

"[..] in a fit of rage, I’d thrown an entire tube of red paint at [the painting]. Crimson splatters dot the scenic mountains like blood spray."

"All the hopes and dreams inside my head smear across the pavement like paint spatters on a canvas. Just a red, red stain."

But, there's also the implication that death isn't the end. That she can take this and make it better.

"The painting wasn’t necessarily ruined; I could still restore it if I worked hard."

"Maybe it’d be good to start fresh on a new piece. If I ever found inspiration to draw or paint, anyway."

When we consider that 'The painting' is acting as a parallel for her life, it essentially changes this to mean 'My life isn't necessarily ruined; I could still restore it if I worked hard.' And 'Maybe it'd be good to start anew. If I ever found the inspiration to live, anyway.'

Which all points to the idea that a fresh start is, perhaps, a good thing?

All-in-all, I'm super happy with how this turned out. Of course, that could just be my own personal bias, since I wrote it. Who can say?

#REARRANGEDfanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #read on ao3 #read on wattpad #isekai #self insert #chapter by chapter #behind the scenes #writing community #author speaks #self commentary #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x oc

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sorakazeno · 2 months

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Sailor Moon Rare Pair Week Day 5

Prompt 5 “Birth/Death”

"Saying Goodbye"

Today’s prompt features the Sailor Moon Cosmos Movie. THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE SAILOR MOON COSMOS MOVIE. You have been warned. For those that watched the movie and asked why don’t we see the Starlights again after their crystals were taken? Here is my take on what happened after they died.

A03

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inmy70schaos · 1 year

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someone on tiktok wanted a Bridgerton inspired marauders fic based in 1800s to be written, so I decided to take it upon myself, but I must ask: do people prefer reading stuff on Ao3 or wattpad?? I usually used tumblr so someone who has written on both please help me out here.

#read on ao3 #read on wattpad #Ao3 vs wattpad #do people prefer ao3 or wattpad

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globetrotter28 · 2 years

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Another Cover Up (Part 5)

Fandom: The Boys

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Herogasm, Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy realise they might need more reinforcements. After doing more research, they discover the woman who was also injected with Compound V alongside Soldier Boy back in the 40’s. Everyone also thought she was KIA that day at Nicaragua. But if Soldier Boy was still alive… maybe she was too?

If you DO wish to be tagged for future updates, please let me know.

If there is a line, the tag didn’t come up for you, or you have changed your handle and I’m not tagging X amount of people who I don’t know.

Tags: @msbadgirl @queenofspades20 @mimzy1994 @erinnkenobi @goldngguk @ateliefloresdaprimavera @roseblue373 @acarboni21 @sexyvixen7 @buckybarnes-1917 @valkyrie418 @multishipper @bxwitched @capswife @bluedragonflylady @leigh70 @xxemoluverxx @quixscentsposts @junie-keene @depressed-kay @deansbbyx @just-levyy @lacilou @ladysparkles78

Chapter Warnings: language, drugs/use, seeing masturbation

My apolo-geez.... I had family come stay, I had work drama, I had wisdom teeth removed, I had family drama, I had friend drama... my life haha

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist - Part 4

"Could you get a bigger stack of weed?" You joked as Butcher got back into the car, tossing the brick of cannabis onto your lap.

"Love... Soldier Boy is going through this shit like no one's business. He's smoking like a bloody chimney." He says looking at you.

"And who's the one feeding it to him?" You point out.

He eyes you, judging to see if you're tone is accusing in a bad way or if you're just ribbing him. Your raised eyebrow but dimple in the cheek tells him it's the latter.

"He could use the healing properties the herb offers, eh?" He winks at you.

"Hmmhmm..." you respond. "All jokes aside...," you swallow, "he's not okay... is he? Like… really.”

Butcher takes a deep breath, contemplating how to answer. But as he looks at the seriousness in your eyes, he knows not only are you going to figure it out without him saying it, but you already know the truth. And that you were a straight shooter who would appreciate him being honest.

"Love... you haven't seen wha' he's done." Butcher's Cockney accent is thick with his serious tone. "Midtown, Herogasm... something sets him off and I've seen it before."

"You think he has Shell Shock?" You frown with confusion at him.

"It's called something different now, but yeah."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You exclaim in astonishment.

"It's a lot more common nowadays... well, not common... more… accepted...?" Butcher finds himself trying to correct himself, surprising even himself.

"Accepted?" Butcher nods as an answer. "You know people used to be executed for that, right? They were considered cowards." Your voice trails off.

"Trust me, I know." Butcher's expression becomes dark, images of his days in the British special forces flashing across his mind... Lenny...

You see the images, but try your best to turn it off again. You'd been doing so well all afternoon. But you couldn't help but be curious when a young boy enters his mind though...

"What's it called now?" You ask, curious.

"PTSD... stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Post Traumatic Stress..." you whisper, testing the words on your tongue, thinking about the conversation you and Ben had on the plane back from Russia. "Fuck... I think you're right..." you sigh out, turning to look out the window once again.

Butcher looks over to you, seeing you looking out the window. He wishes for just a moment that he could be the one to read your mind, to see what it was that made you think that, when you hadn't seen what Soldier Boy was capable of doing, intentional or otherwise since coming back.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Butcher pulled up to Legend’s house mid afternoon. You carried the brick of weed out, Butcher grabbing the shopping bag from the store he went into earlier.

As you entered the house and made your way up the stairs you could hear faint music playing from the room Ben was staying in. You couldn’t help the roll of of your eyes and the pang in your heart. You knew you seemed pathetic… pining after a man who clearly never felt he same way. But you felt it was easier to have him in your life some way than not at all.

You followed the voices of Hughie and Legend to the living room, where you saw Ben’s part time career as a “singer” playing on the TV, but the sound was off.

“Jesus…” you can’t help but say under your breath.

“There you are.” Butcher tosses the bag onto the free couch. As he turns to look around, he takes off his glasses, realising Soldier Boy isn’t with them. “Oh, fuck me. Is he still at it?” He asks, disbelief colouring his tone.

“He hasn’t come out all day…” Hughie answers quietly, looking to Y/N quickly.

“Are we fucking surprised?” You scoff, fingers digging into the weed.

“So did you find anything? I’d really love the freedom to reign in my own home sometime soon.” The Legend’s slightly irritated voice speaks up, changing the subject, which you’re grateful for.

“Fuck all.” Butcher answers.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Hughie. I don’t think he’s been to the three we went to in years.” You contribute. “And they’re the only ones I knew about.”

“Well I guess we’d better talk to him.”

“Right you are.” Butcher makes a move to head back down to Ben’s room, the three of you following. You stay at the rear, not wanting to be the first one to see what you’re inevitably going to walk in on.

As you all walk through the door, the music and moans are now louder and evident to everyone else. You follow behind Legend, who’s older knees are struggling to move as fast as Butcher’s or Hughie’s down the stairs into the room.

“You got a minute?” Butcher asks, interrupting the two women pleasuring themselves on the bed, along with Ben steadily stroking himself. The women gasp in surprise at being caught naked and partaking in the sexual activities, whereas Ben continues as he looks over his shoulder at the group.

“Oh, good. Lube? Huh? C��mon, I can’t go in raw.” Ben says, looking directly at Hughie.

“Please… don’t make eye contact.” Hughie begs, his level of uncomfortableness radiating off him.

“Hughie, listen, these women, they’re like fine wine. Okay, the older they get, the more delicious, but the drier.”

“Mary, Lucille, come on, chop-chop.” Legend moves between Butcher and Hughie towards the women. “Break time’s over. That shags not gonna vacuum itself. Come on.” He grabs their clothes handing them to them, as the women attempt to cover themselves and move to the stairs.

You move off the last step to the side, out of their way. They both give you a side-eye as they begin to make their way up the stairs, to which you can only scoff and raise your brows.

“What’s the problem?” You look back to see Ben has covered himself up with the silk robe he had on, joint in his hand

“What’s the problem?” Legend clarifies. “First of all. I can never fire those girls now, thank you. And second of all, this bed has seen two Jaclyn’s. You know that? Smith and Bisset.” He looks around. “Y-you’re treating it like a Reno cathouse.”

“Jesus.” Ben sighs, lifting the join to this lips.

“The problem,” Butcher interrupts, “is you gave me eleven of Mindstorm’s last-knowns. So far, Y/N and I’ve had a look at three and found fuck all. I-I’m chasing me fucking tail here, mate.” Butcher twirls his finger in the air.

“Sounds like that’s three down and eight to go.” Ben says, cockiness dripping from his tone.

“Yeah. And that’s gonna take weeks, and weeks I don’t got.”

This is where Legend decides to interrupt the conversation talking about his Egyptian cotton sheets… Ben and you both roll your eyes.

“The deal was, we get the rest of Y/N and my team, then we get Homelander.”

“And all I’m saying, is we could use a hand figuring it out.”

Ben moves to stand up. “I told you. Mindstorm’s a paranoid fuck. But, hey, if you could hear everybody’s shitty thoughts, you’d be too.”

“Thanks.” You add from the back of the room. Ben only gives you a look.

“Look, he bought up all the run-down cabins all over the place. He’s Howard Hughs without the piss jars. He’s bat shit crazy.” He lifts the joint once again.

“Mindstorm’s not crazy.” Legend interrupts from the other side of the bed. “He’s bipolar.”

“Bipolar?” You ask. You never knew that…

“He’s bipolar?” Hughie also asks.

“Yeah.” Legends answers, walking between the group.

“Does he take meds for it?”

“I believe so. At least he did.” He turns to make his way up the stairs. “Girls, it smells like sex and Bengay in here!” He calls out, making his way up the stairs.

“Lithium prescriptions are that common.” Your attention moves back to Hughie. “I mean, I doubt he’s making it. Maybe… I-if we look at all the cabins and we…”

“And then check the local pharmacies.” Butcher adds.

“Yeah.”

“See who’s handing out Lithium.” Butcher pauses for a moment, before moving to pat Hughie on the arm. “Nice one, Hughie.” He smiles.

“We’re gonna need more reefer.” You all turn to look at Ben, sitting on the bed again, a leg hitched high with the dressing gown falling down exposing his muscular thighs. He only looks up at us, joint half way to his mouth and smiles wide.

Butcher and Hughie look at each other, as you peg the brick of weed at Ben, catching him off guard as it hits him heavy in the chest.

“Erm, I’m going to start cross referencing those cabins and pharmacies.”

Butcher sees the pissed off look on your face, and the shocked one on Ben.

“Uh, yeah I’ll come help.”

After they both leave the room, Ben asks, “What the hell?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your anger is evident.

“Um… enjoying myself. Here, take a hit.” Ben holds the joint out to you.

“You’ve been back, for what? Two weeks now?” You ask, moving towards him.

“Something like that.” He answers, breathing out his puff of smoke.

“And what have you done? Other than blow up a hundred people on two seperate occasions?”

“Hey!” He stands up, towering over you. “I told you that wasn’t what I meant to do.” He growled

“But what else have you been doing to find these fucks?” You grit out with clenched teeth. “You stay here all fucking day, screwing the help.” You admit, you know your personal feelings were getting involved, but you also wanted to find your old team just as much as he did.

“You could be here too if you wanted to be.”

“Focus on the fucking task at hand Ben. You’re acting like you don’t even want to find them.” You growl.

“Get that stick outta your ass, Y/N. I’m sure Legend has a chef or a gardener who’d love to help you with that. You’ve always been so stuck up. Get banged and banged good for once.”

You can’t help yourself. You don’t even know you’ve done it until Ben’s face is twisted to the side. But slapping him did feel good…

“You know me fucking better than that, Ben.” You seethe.

You see the anger in his eyes, but you turn away quickly and storm up the stairs. You grab Butcher’s set of keys he tossed on the table as you walked into the house.

“Y/N?” You hear Hughie’s voice, but keep walking.

“I’m taking Butcher’s wheels. I’ll be back.” You say over your shoulder, slamming the front door as you make your way to the car and start her up.

Part 6

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys #the boys tv #read on wattpad #fanfic #read on ao3 #female reader #william butcher #billy butcher #hughie campbell

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kitcattales · 1 year

Text

Something There - Akaza x Fem! Reader Chapter 1: Something There

Author's note: So, I'm trying this for the first time, please bear with me for any mistakes, but PLEASE read the warnings and tags before reading as this fic d o e s touch on very mature and sensitive topics in mental health ;w; My purpose in writing this series is to tell a story as well as to give readers a relatable, realistic experience with bad mental health struggles along with a loving message in regards to that, so please be sure you're doing alright enough to proceed ;w; <3 I've never shared any of my fanfics on Tumblr before nor am I super apt at using this platform, so I'm not sure how this will turn out, but I thought maybe I should give it a try ;u; I hope you guys like the first chapter to my Akaza fic! ;w; <3

If you'd like to continue onto the next chapters available so far, you can find the rest of my fic cross-posted on AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev! Links are down below! c: <3

Synopsis:

Loneliness and guilt can lead people down a painful spiral of darkness which is often times difficult to crawl out of. It can be suffocating to the point of which your thoughts are no longer your own. At least, they're not what you would recall them to be now that the person you once were is gone. Mourning and grievances can escalate and deepen the slope of self-destruction and self-loathing, pushing you further into an abyss of quicksand your fingers can't claw into no matter how hard you try to pull yourself out to make things right.

No matter what _______ did to reconcile for her mistakes, nothing ever made the emptiness and hurt within her go away. Life lost its meaning, and with it, the Slayer's will to continue had faded as well.

She had become so desperate, she convinced herself a demon of the twelve Kizuki was her only solution to make the torment end; to pull her from the quicksand and let her slip in a senseless dream.

To most, it would have been crazy, but to her? It was the last chance she had to make things right and to pay for the sins she could never undo.

Funny how a demon was the answer to prayers like that.

Rating: M for Mature.

Warnings:

THE FOLLOWING FIC CONTAINS THOROUGH DIALOGUE ABOUT SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND TENDENCIES ALONG WITH DIALOGUE OF SELF-LOATHING. IF YOU'RE IN A DARK OR VULNERABLE PLACE RIGHT NOW, PLEASE DON'T CONTINUE PASSED THIS POINT.

This fic also contains depictions of violence and gore. Don't know to what extent I should label it, so I'll just say that it's definitely in there (not that it would really stand out in a series like Demon Slayer).

The fic also goes into details about the Mugen Train arc so, spoilers ahead. It also slightly hints to stuff about Akaza's background - not in tons of detail, but there's hints.

CHAPTER TWO

Word count: 9,671

Cross-posts: AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev (I am most active on AO3! <3)

Chapter 1: Something There

There was a light breeze this evening, blowing with the lovely scent of not-so-distant blooming wild flowers. The sky was cloudless, unobstructed and ornamented with an endless array of dazzling stars which freely blinked with detached innocence amongst their vast, endless world of obsidian depths. The moon – large and full – rested right in the middle of the spectacle, shinning its soft, ethereal light onto the earth’s plane of existence like a blanketed gift from Heaven. Underneath its brilliant light was an open plain of grass, long and feather-like with the blades which fluttered and danced hand-in-hand with the wind whom swept them from their rooted dance floor. All the while, from a distance, an audience of ancient cedar watched, their leaves restlessly enthused to join and encourage the ballet from where they stood so admiringly.

In all respects, the setting was awe-inspiring. A place most people would envision when thinking of a landscape bathed in peace and serenity. A place one could run away to so as to fall amongst the swaying blades, to roll along with them in their reality and giggle out joyous fantasies with the nearby cedar in a private, heavenly world of their own. A place where one could lay back, arms splayed, eyes to the sky, dreaming of an exciting, blissful (maybe even euphoric) future.

It should be a place drizzled in otherworldly wonder.

It should be a place of refuge.

A place people can go to by choice for a night of delight and mindful wondering – but there on the ground, viewing it all from a perspective so polar opposite from the view from Heaven, the scene came off in a completely different light.

The grass was coarsely grabby, edged with sticky little weeds which clung at her clothing as she dragged her feet across the hardened soil. Her body screamed cries of overexertion, protesting wildly and cacophonously against its owner, begging for a rest like the one the stars and moon dreamed of, but she knew she was beyond that point of grace.

The soft, white glow from the seemingly engorged moon only served to illuminate her path. It was leading her towards a destination every sane thought in her head told her to run away from, but the stronger voice in her edged her to strive for even beyond the painful exhaustion she felt seeping into her very bones.

The stars may as well not even be there. To her, they certainly weren’t. She never bothered acknowledging them when she stepped onto the plain. She knew they were there, by logic, but to see and actively acknowledge them would be a cruel reminder of the beauty of life that was so fleeting.

The sweeping wind reminded her of that sense of inescapable mourning for something that was lost long ago, the way it pushed through the spaces between her fingers even as she let them hang loosely by her sides, mocking her weakness and fragility. It reminded her of the things and moments she allowed to slip through those very gaps time and time again before this very moment in time within that desolate field.

The audience of cedar, much closer now than they had been before, swayed in precarious gestures, almost as if whispering amongst themselves before – suddenly – waving at her with urgency as a warning not to enter the land they shielded her from.

She, however, paid no mind to the warnings they attempted to heed her. Her eyes, though vacant and void of emotion, simply stared forward beyond the gaps in between their thick, barky bodies into the inky black deep within the land of densely packed cedar. The only time she listened to her aching body to stop for a moment was when she reached the edge of the forest.

Her right hand weakly pressed against the bark of the nearest tree, rough against her palm. Her body greedily leeched off of the support the chivalrous cedar provided by collapsing against it a mere second or two afterwards. She whimpered pathetically as her battered side collided with the rough bark, her breaths coming out heavier for a moment while she tried with the miniscule amount of willpower left in her to compose herself.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

Her teeth gritted painfully, her eyes shut tight, but she focused her breathing. She focused effectively, just as she had been taught and trained to, successfully alleviating some of the pain which screamed from deep within her core. When the world around her began to make more sense to her sightless senses beyond that of the pounding in her ears is when she allowed herself to gaze into the darkness once more.

Likewise, it was then that she had picked up on the pungent scent of blood creeping into her reality like invisible tendrils of poisonous vines come to destroy the idea of anything like a flower in a world like hers.

Flowers.

HA!

What a silly idea for something like that to exist in a moment like this.

Still, she was undeterred by the iron-noted scent. She had grown eerily accustomed to it over the course of time she had dedicated within her uniform. It was simply a sign of a cruel world; a reminder of how temporary everything was.

She was well aware the scent typically spelled out ‘danger’ and a definite threat within the near vicinity, and for a person like her who was so worn and tattered, it urged for her to turn back to run almost in an audible whisper.

Was it the cedar talking in the blood’s behalf? The chitter-chatter of their leaves fluttering deterrently, begging for her to reconsider?

Blatantly, she ignored.

She pushed herself off of the tree she leaned against and forced her body to continue forward. Quickly, as she slipped beneath the thick canopy of the forest, the moon and stars ceased to exist. Though she hadn’t actively acknowledged them when passing through the field, their absence was prevalently notable as soon as the branches of cedar roofed her within their mysterious home. The world around her grew as dark as the one thriving in her head, teeming with a life she was unaware of and instinctually afraid of.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

The fear was quickly swallowed up by the inky sensation of disassociation. It had only served to exist a few moments in the back of her head, wondering aloud what she might run into on the way to the finish line she had drawn for herself, but it just as quickly fell to a numbing silence. Her head filled with fog and quiet, aiding in the subsiding of the gooseflesh which had momentarily sprouted along the length of her arms.

There was nothing to be afraid of. She had planned this shortly after she found out about what dwelled in this area. For a long time, she had been dreaming of a way out of the nightmare that is her daily life she could not escape from, and just like that, as destined by fate, the solution had fallen onto her lap through speculating whispers and murmurs from people in the nearby village about the things which sometimes dwelled in the cedar forest. It had been a hunch, a possibility with an equal possibility of it being something else entirely which the villagers spoke of, but something inside of the young woman told her this was definitely what she had been hoping for since everything had first started going downhill.

As she dragged her feet and trudged deeper and deeper into the abyssal world she walked through like a stranger in a town she didn’t belong in, she picked up on the sounds of creatures moving in the dark. Creatures she didn’t come here to see today. She could sense their presences in her flesh and bone, humming and vibrating with their being to force her awareness on them. She, however, chose to force her awareness of them into silence.

No, she didn’t come here for just any demon.

She came here tonight for a very specific one.

One she knew was stronger than any other she had ever faced or heard of thus far.

The one that would be the perfect and quick solution to her problem.

I could just stop walking, she thought as she dragged the top of her foot along the dirt beneath her to force it in front of her for another agonized step forward. It hurts to walk, anyway. I could just stop here, let any of the ones following me right now do away with me. End the nightmares already…She shook her head, forcing her steps to gain a bit of haste, though she made no move for her Nichirin sword sheathed at her side – her only true form of defense in the midst of an infestation like the one she ventured into. No. The weaker ones are cheekier than all hell. They like to play with their prey and food. They’ll make it worse for me than it needs to be. No, I’ll get to him and have him do it fast. I’m fairly certain he does it for sport, and with a demon as ridiculously strong as him, I probably wouldn’t even feel it when it happens. If the worst happens and the rumors are wrong…well…the others still remain an inescapable option at this point. One way or another, I’ll be able to pay for my weaknesses. I’ll make it up to them all. The nightmares will end and I’ll slip away like I should’ve so long ago.

The thought caused her brow to furrow as the sorrowful emotion she seemed tied to the hip with washed over her. It felt suffocating, like she had been forced down a waterfall and the harsh waves just kept battering onto her over and over, leaving her sore in every possible way. Before everything got as bad as it had, when everything was still so fresh and explicit in her mind, the feeling would’ve caused tears to surface in her eyes. She would’ve collapsed and bawled, a soul-raking kind of cry that shook her to her very spirit, rattling the human frame caged within her skin. A mournful sound and act of hopelessness to help her cope and allow her body to wash out the pain that was so endless and vast.

Not this time, though.

She hadn’t cried like that in a very long time.

The last time she had shed those kinds of heartbreaking tears was when her best friends had died on the field, a small group sent out to protect the very village she trekked from right now. There were demons terrorizing the villagers for weeks, people going missing in the forest leaving nothing behind but their screams in the night. Her squad arrived, eager and confident in their abilities to aid the people they had been sent to save…Yet, in the end, the ones who needed saving were them.

She could remember it as though it had happened just yesterday. The blood of her friends slowly dripping from her hands as she had desperately tried to stem their bleeding when the demon had coward off because of the rising sun. She could remember how loud she had cried for help to the point that her throat felt bloody and raw, how desperately she had begged with her friends not to die on her. Not to leave her. Not to let her weak and feeble attempt at protecting them and the villagers be the reason they were going.

Not to let them jumping in to save her be the reason they died in her arms.

Unfortunately, it was a request neither of them could fulfill for her.

By the time help arrived, they were gone. Nothing left but corpses in her arms staring blankly towards dawn.

She cried harder than she ever had that day. The only people she had ever considered family – the only people she had close to her left in a world so bleak – had been ripped away from her when they came to her aid; all because she couldn’t defend herself.

All because she allowed herself to believe she had the upper hand.

All because she allowed herself to get cocky.

All because she left her blindside wide open.

PATHETIC, PATHETIC, PATHETIC! You don’t deserve to be alive! It should’ve been YOU who died that day, not THEM!

Her head lulled from side to side as the harsh thought rang in her mind, reminding her time and time again that she wasn’t worthy of their sacrifice; that they had bestowed a value on her insignificant life she had no clue what she did to earn.

“I know…” She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes fluttering for a moment from the pain radiating in her with each step she took. The recent fight to defend the village from demons had left her body a tattered and bruised mess beneath her uniform, barely able to do anything without nearly collapsing every few minutes. It had been going nonstop for many nights now, these harsh, numerous battles. Battles she felt tied to finish in memory of the ones she lost during the original mission. A sort of reconciliation she was aware would never amount to wash away the sins she’s committed towards the ones who loved her most, but the beating her body received every night…it felt well-earned.

“I know…” She repeated, her lip quivering as the shaken breath left her. “I-I know I don’t…”

The forest around her began to giggle and chuckle through the dark. Cheeky, mischievous whispers floated from cedar to cedar as the sensation of a million pairs of eyes staring her back down crept through her veins. By instinct, her senses had heightened again, becoming more and more aware of the things following her and gossiping about her, laughing about how easy it would be to rush in and end her right there, but deciding to play around with their food to prolong the inevitable through a torturous mind game.

I’m not scared to die. I haven’t been for a long time. I’m not afraid. None of this scares me. They can’t do anything to me I haven’t felt already in a million different ways. I. Am not. Afraid.

The laughter in the woods grew louder, almost as though they had peeked into her mind and read her thoughts. Mocking her. Gossiping about the reality she tried to hide behind her lies.

She tried her best to ignore the gossip. Her nails dug into bark as her hands pressed and pushed her feebly from tree to tree, each one she passed by close enough aiding on her course of self-destruction despite their previous warnings. The grass and weeds around her feet clung to her clothing just as they had done on the open plain, tugging at her harder and with more persistence the deeper into the void she propelled herself. Her dragging feet pulled away from them each and every time, deadest on reaching the end of what the woods attempted to protect her from.

Nothing could deter her from her quest, and the only thing which caused her pause and hesitation in her trek so deep within the darkness was the sound of a collapsing cedar a short distance away.

The timber was dissonant and jarringly crackling like booming thunder. When the massive cedar collided with the ground, the entire forest appeared to shake and tremble in protest of its fallen extremity. The living cedars chittered and waved in anxious, shrill cries before the world around her plummeted into deafening silence. Even the laughter and gossip had ceased from the demons she knew remained close by. She was sure they had been toying with her, but from the sound of the collapsing cedar, it appeared she had found what she sought, and the affirmation of his existence deep within the desolate forest forced them into fearfully respectful silence.

She stared ahead, leaning against a tree once more, watching intently through her vacant gaze for further movement. Her panted breath was all she could hear for a few moments, and her heart had plummeted into the abyss of her stomach when a thought crossed her mind.

Maybe it was just a random tree that was about to fall. Maybe nothing really caused it to fall other than an old injury to its bark. Maybe the rumors are just that: rumors. Maybe I’m stuck with my terrible plan B after all.

The thunderous sound of yet another falling cedar, however, told her she was wrong. The quick succession didn’t sound natural, nor did the way the woods reverberated with the collapse. There was something else there, something else that caused a third tree to quickly fall right afterwards as well.

Her heart jumped to her throat with anxious hope that the rumors were true after all. The silence around her from the demons whom followed her up to this point also inclined her to believe it to be so.

It has to be him. She pushed herself off of the tree she rested against, quickening her steps towards the trembling trees and earth-shattering commotion ahead. Please let it be him. Please don’t be another lesser demon. Please don’t play with my emotions like this. Not now. Not again.

Her breaths puffed out faster now, shaken with the effort from her quaking, hobbling form. She could barely keep going. If this wasn’t him, whoever it was would have to do away with her, because her body couldn’t carry her much further. No one would miss me, anyway. The village would be better off with a different Slayer there to defend them. I’m useless to them. I’ve been able to keep the demons at bay thus far, but I can’t anymore. They’ll be fine until they send someone else tomorrow. I would be a hindrance if I had stayed behind. At least with me being here, the demons can entertain themselves watching me with him instead – or coming after me themselves if it really isn’t him. GOD, please let it be him.

Unsettled by her desperate thoughts, she shook her head as firmly as she could before forcing herself to focus once more so she may sense the beings in her surroundings. As soon as she did, the vibrations in her bones shook her like an earthquake, nearly toppling the already beaten woman onto the forest floor like the falling cedar ahead. She reached out, clawing her nails deeply into a nearby tree one more time, her arms hugging tightly around it as her knees buckled beneath her. She whimpered with struggle, trying with all her might to stay on her feet against the mighty cedar, but through it all, her eyes had stayed fixated on the area the fallen trees were plummeting from. The strength of the demon ahead was…terrifying. She knew he had to be, considering he was of the higher ranks of Muzan’s twelve Kizuki, but that it felt like this without any kind of confrontation? For a second, it caused the thought of reconsideration to cross the woman’s mind as freezing fear raced through her being to solidify her in place. Her eyes were widened despite their vacant state and her teeth clattered and chattered together with her trembling.

Remember what’s waiting for you outside of this forest even if you do somehow manage to make it out alive. The life you chose to leave behind. None of it is worth it anymore. You’re pitiful to feel this damn afraid of something you’ve plotted so thoroughly, but it’s a natural response. I can’t think of many people who wouldn’t shake at the sense of this ridiculous amount of demonic presence…

She took a deep, calming breath at the thought, the sound of the falling cedar becoming background noise to her. Nodding slowly to herself, she pushed forward one last time and began to drag her feet towards the man she now had no doubt was there. No lesser demon would even come close to the essence she picked up on, so at least that thought was calming in its own regard.

Keep walking. Keep going. You’re almost there. You won’t feel this pain or fear for much longer.

She pushed herself through a few bushes now, her shoulder bumping against another cedar as a small clearing gradually came into her line of vision through the foliage ahead of her.

Within the clearing was the finish line.

The demon she had come here to see.

The end of her quest.

The answer to her prayers and the consequence of her sins.

Akaza.

The name rang in her mind from memory at the sight of his muscular frame and head of short, disheveled salmon-toned hair. His back was facing her, his concentration mainly set on the cedars before him which his fists continuously connected with, causing for them to fall one after the other. Sometimes, he’d mix things up with kicks as well, his form rock solid and unmovable with each strike he landed. It appeared as though he were training a form of martial art which, in retrospect, came off rather odd to her if she really thought about it. A demon training his skills as though he were human when the amount of strength he actually harbored was beyond humanity in all definitions of the word? Maybe it was just something he enjoyed to do, beating the life out of tree after tree. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. What mattered is that he was really there. The rumors were true and the finish line was now within reach.

She had heard of his battle and unfortunate victory against the Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku, through her Kasugai Crow. It had been widespread news when it happened. It spread like wildfire from Slayer to Slayer, the heartbreaking loss of a man so kind and great like Rengoku leaving a gaping hole many knew not how to fill.

In all regards, she should hate him. This demon. This disgrace and mistake on the face of the planet which only lived to cause pain and suffering to humanity. She should despise him with every fiber in her being – and when the news first reached her, she did. She wanted nothing more than to gain news of his defeat and demise while she mourned the death of the Hashira amongst fellow Slayers at the time.

Right now, however?

He was an antidote to her.

A sweet remedy she was desperate to taste.

A consequence she knew she fully deserved – and the desperation she felt for him to give it to her already only made her feel even less worthy of living on than she already did.

How could she want this so badly?

How could she be this desperate?

How could she be so disrespectful to the memory of Rengoku and the entire Demon Slayer Corps as to seek this demon out for the sole purpose of taking away the breath from her lungs?

Something anyone who knew him would quickly give up in return for Rengoku’s life.

If I could, I would trade places with him in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even have to think about it. I know I’m unworthy and completely incomparable to him, but if it were possible, I would give my life in exchange for his. He deserved to live. He deserved a happy life. He deserved a lovely future. He deserved every good thing in the universe because of how much of an amazing man he truly was. So, why is it fair that an extraordinary person like Rengoku had to die, but a pathetic excuse for human life like me is allowed to keep going? It isn’t fair. God…please let me trade…Take me instead. Give us back Rengoku, let me rewind time, put me on the Infinity Train and let me take his place against Akaza. Let me give the world that kindness before I go…

Alas, even if it were possible to do as such, she knew Rengoku would’ve never allowed it. He would have saved her just like he had everyone else on that train.

Just like he had given his life to accomplish for those who couldn’t fight for themselves.

I’m sure if he were alive, he’d probably scold me for the thoughts I’m having. He’d probably start giving me one of his zealous pep talks, too, about not giving up so I can keep moving forward in the memory of them…He always had such a warm energy to him…So much hope, courage and perseverance in a world so bleak and scary. I wish I could’ve been like you. I’d like to believe I might be lucky enough to meet you in the afterlife…but…I don’t feel like I deserve to go where you’ve gone.

Her head lowered in shame, the quivering of her lip returning with vengeance. It was then she noticed just how many fallen trees were scattered in this clearing Akaza was training in. So much so, it made her believe the small clearing only existed because of him now, quickly growing in size with each massive cedar he brought to its knees. From up close, the shattering wood caused her ears to ache, the actual quaking fall forcing a flinch from her out of reflex.

Looking up from the litter of fallen trees, she watched as the demon stood up straight and rolled his shoulders after the last cedar he had beaten into submission. He turned his head to one side with a satisfying crrrrrack before turning to the other with the same result.

In his momentary pause, she found the will in herself to force her feet to walk forward again. She found it a bit difficult to maneuver around the fallen trees, her aching body screeching at her now with painful protest each time she jumped herself over one of them. There was no way at this point that the demon of the Upper Moons hadn’t become aware of her presence. She was sure he knew she was there long before she even showed up at this clearing he was making, but if he hadn’t, the raucous of her fumbling over logs and crunching leaves and twigs beneath her feet had certainly alerted him of her approaching presence.

She could tell, because he made no move to continue his training against the cedar no matter how much closer she got to him.

No, he didn’t move until she was right behind him, having somehow managed the hurdle of the final cedar at their feet.

If she hadn’t been before, she was definitely passed the point of no return now.

From up close, she could take in his details a lot better. Markings ran all across his skin, many of which disappeared under the cover of his baggy clothing. From behind, the ones which caught her attention most were the rings encircling his throat, visible still from the back of his neck. That, and the stained ends of his fingers and bare feet, his nails all tinted in a deep red color. All of it contrasted heavily with his pale skin tone and softly colored locks of hair which swayed just the smallest bit with the light breeze sweeping through the woods, offset even further by the reddened pearls ensnared around his ankles.

It was an odd thought, but the combination of his natural colors was a pleasant one. It was a strange sentence which floated in her mind for several moments because of how bizarre it actually was.

She supposed if she would give herself up to a demon, she would rather he didn’t look as terrifying as they come.

At the very least, there was something soothing about the softness in his palette. It almost felt like he belonged in this landscape, really, jumping out of the scenery like a painting in a black and white book.

“This is a surprise,” His rough, masculine voice broke through the silence, causing for the woman’s eyes to shift sharply to the back of the demon’s head. “You Slayers sure are interesting. Coming after me in my own domain like this? Can’t say you’re very good at sneaking up on the enemy, though. Might want to work on that.” He remarked, noticeably disinterested.

Why would he be interested? He didn’t even need to look at the Slayer to know they were weak. Their sounds of struggle as they traversed the fallen trees behind them told him all he needed to know. He had never been interested in fighting weakened opponents. Where was the fun in that? No, he wanted a challenge. Always seeking a new rival to combat and train with for years to come.

It’s a shame those damn Hashiras never chose to turn.

They really would’ve made the centuries so much more fun.

“I’m not interested in facing off, if that’s what you came here for.” He blatantly remarked. “You’re not worth the time, I already know that. If you want to pick a fight, have at it with any of the others in the woods, human.” With that, he readied his fighting stance once more, just as he had prepped himself with earlier. A few seconds after, quick as lightning, he struck the tree directly in front of him with his fist. No sound of effort emitted from him, but the mighty cedar fell backwards with agonized creaks and shatters from the single strike.

She, once again, flinched from the sound of the fall, her eyes turning to look at the defeated cedar before turning back to Akaza once more. A part of her was somewhat surprised that he didn’t care that a human was standing behind him as a perfectly easy target, but another part reckoned that might have been to be expected from someone of his prowess.

It simply reaffirmed the facts she already knew to be true.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do next. Something in her hadn’t expected to make it this far. She had been convinced, in the back of her mind, that the night would end with her devoured by some random lesser demon in the woods before she could ever hope to stumble upon Akaza. Somehow, someway, fate had listened to her begging and delivered, but now that she found him, what exactly was she supposed to do? Wasn’t this supposed to be as easy as she always envisioned it to be? Wasn’t handing herself over to a demon supposed to quickly fall into the same pattern of blood, violence and gore?

Another tree fell in the midst of her thoughts, this time vanquished by a curt kneeing from the demon. This time, she didn’t flinch, stuck in her head, her eyes focused on the markings on the back of Akaza’s neck.

“You’re still here.” He remarked with a deep sigh, annoyance laced in his tone as he straightened to stand up tall. “Why are you still here? You’re no challenge to me. I assume you got business with me, but let’s be real here, you and I both know how things will end if you really want to try, little Slayer.”

“I…I-I do. That’s why I’m here…” She finally found her voice, deciding she would follow the flow life decided to toss her way right now.

Akaza’s entire demeanor shifted at the sound of her. He startled in place, stiffening from the unexpected feminine voice which carried itself so dimly through the breeze. By instinct, he had assumed the Slayer whom came to so (stupidly) boldly stand before him was a man looking for a fight. He had made a few short guesses in the moment he had spoken to her, wondering if maybe it had been someone from the Corps come to avenge someone he had taken down. He wouldn’t have been surprised; it’s happened before. Nevertheless, he certainly did not expect a woman to approach him for battle tonight.

Slowly, he turned on his heels, his odd, golden hued gaze, marked by the beast, coming to meet with hers. It didn’t take him long to take in the state she was in and to guess she was in no condition to put up any kind of fight, let alone with him if that’s really what she came out here to achieve. She had a noticeably heavy limp, most of her body weight balanced on her left foot. Her facial expression looked worn, spent and drained of all energy. Her Nichirin sword, a blade lethal to demons like him, remained sheathed at her side and she showed zero interest in pulling it out in any form of defense. Her uniform was one he was all too familiar with, having already guessed she was a Slayer long before he ever came to face her because of the distinctive scent of the cloth and the sound of her blade hitting her leg with each move she made.

Despite the roughened exterior, she was extremely feminine. A woman in all forms of the word. Her face was full, cheeks lusciously round with large doe eyes adored by long, fluttering lashes. Her lips, though pulled into a desperate frown due to the state she was in, were plush and pink, lightly pursed with the face she was making. Her hair was thick and tinted in (hair color) which shimmered in the light from the moon he had allowed entrance into the forest within their plain. Her uniform consisted of a knee-length skirt and the typical top he was accustomed to seeing on the Slayers, though it definitely filled out more with the curves of her womanly figure, the color of her legs contrasting heavily from her attire as well.

A woman. He thought to himself, dumbly.

He remained silent, completely taken aback by this predicament. He simply stared at the woman with his widened dual-colored eyes, trying to figure her out from where he stood.

“I know I’m no challenge for you,” She eventually spoke up again, her voice quiet, just there for him to hear. “I know you could…so easily do away with me…You could just…j-just end it all in a second if you wanted to, really…” She muttered, trailing off for a moment as her gaze shifted to the side despondently. “But that’s why I’m here. I…I-I don’t want to put up a fight…” Her gaze shifted back to look him in the eye, her composure quickly faltering and falling as she, quite literally, stared death in the face.

“I want you to kill me…Do what you will, eat me or just do it for the sport of it, b-but…kill me…”

Tears were beginning to surface in her eyes now, quickly blurring her vision before overflowing down the curve of her cheeks. All the while, her expression fell with them, her lips pulling into agonized whimpers as she forced the words out of her raw throat.

“I-I don’t want to be alive anymore,” She openly sobbed at the demon, a creature she knew wouldn’t care, but letting out the thoughts that had been screaming in her head for so long to anyone who would listen was better than letting them die in her head with her. “I d-don’t deserve to be alive, s-so just do it…Do it…!” She was sobbing now, her knees buckling heavily, causing for her sword to clatter loudly at her side. Out of desperation, she reached out to tightly grip at the demon’s loose haori in both of her fists, her legs finally giving out from underneath her.

Just like the mighty cedar, she collapsed with a loud thud that caused her world to quake, and through her blurred vision, she stared up at the man who would finish the job to let moonlight shine through when she was gone.

“K-kill me, take away my breath, wipe me out of existence! P-please, just make it stop! M-make the pain stop! I should’ve died ages ago, but I’m here and it isn’t fair! I don’t deserve to be here! Please, p-please…! I came to you myself, o-on a silver platter, it w-would be so…s-so easy to make it all end here tonight…! PLEASE! DEVOUR ME!” She pulled tightly on his haori, her eyes never leaving his in her pathetic state. She pleaded with him in all ways she thought she could, hoping to elicit some excitement and thrill of the kill in the powerful demon she clung to.

Anything to make the pain stop.

Anything to do away with the agony.

Anything to make the nightmare end.

Anything to stop the loneliness and guilt.

Anything to get what she so rightfully deserved.

Akaza, in turn, stared down at the human woman feeling an uncomfortable sense of foggy nostalgia. It wasn’t in the things she was saying or the desperation in her pleading, but from the tears and the hopeless look in her eyes. There was something…there. It was just out of reach in his mind, tickling his memories, whispering to him of times that never came to be nor came to exist. Yet, the nostalgia still rang.

Why did the nostalgia ring?

He didn’t know, so he continued to stare at the young woman, at a loss on how to react or respond. He made no move to touch her, simply looking down at her with an unreadable expression which more so teetered in the direction of bewilderment. After a moment’s consideration, he raised his hands hesitantly, confused on what he was supposed to do about the sobbing woman who now lowered her head deeply towards her chest as her body curled closer to the ground. Her arms remained outstretched above her, clinging to his haori as she openly cried her tears into the grassy ground of the woods.

He thought about removing her hands from his haori, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His hands lingered just above hers, his tainted fingers slightly trembling with indecisive energy, but he couldn’t bring himself to place them on hers to pry her off of him. In all his years of living as a demon, he had never had anyone so desperately seek him out to kill them like this. In battle, sure, when his opponent was mangled yet conscious enough to feel it all, but never so forward, out of the blue nor on purpose like this.

His lips parted with the attempt of speech, but no sound came from him. His mouth simply remained slightly agape before coming to a close a few seconds afterwards. The woman’s sobs had grown louder now, letting everything out she had buried within, and the sound of her heartbreak and loss of a will to go on caused for him to feel an incredible sense of growing unease and discomfort.

Was it pity he felt? He didn’t know, but he definitely felt something through this moral code of his.

Despite her distraught and the odd sensation it caused to bubble in him, Akaza had still caught on to the stirring of life in the woods around them. The sound of the woman must have caught the attention of the demons nearby. Did they really think it was such a good idea to encroach in his space? Apparently, at least one of them did. His eyes darted to the left as it shifted fast through the foliage before leaping out a second after in a bellowing flash of mindless hunger.

The sound of its heavy footsteps and soul-shattering bellow reached her viciously, jarring her in place as her eyes widened to stare at the ground beneath them through her constant tears. She only had seconds left to look up and see the beast that was running towards the two of them on all fours, all sense of sanity completely lost from the monstruous maw it held outstretched and salivating for her flesh.

Its fingers dug deeply into the ground each time its palms slammed onto it, booming repeatedly like massive drums straight out of the deepest depths of Hell. Its skin was covered in bulging, bright red blisters, pulsing and shifting with its savagely brusque movements. When its feet propelled it forward, it caused the fallen trees in its way to scatter wildly on either side of its massive rampaging form, slamming into the sides of the standing cedars near its position. It had three eyes – two where you expected them to be, and the third on its forehead, all of which stared wildly ahead of it. It sunk and registered in her the moment she saw them that its sights were primarily set on her, the only human in the forest, frail and vulnerable like a newborn lamb with a broken ankle left for dead.

Plan B was literally stomping towards her at the speed of sound and brutally forcing itself into her reality, whether she wanted it to or not.

In those split seconds before the collision, Akaza had moved before either of the two could notice. He had found the nerve in him to push her hands off of his haori for the sole purpose of planting his feet wide and strong on the ground in front of her. The sound of the earth cracking beneath his soles filled the air as his face morphed to one of sickened anger and his breath steadily left him through his nostrils. His hands moved so quick, their figures seemingly disappeared into thin air until they came to grapple onto one of the charging, deranged demon’s reaching arms. Without flinching, he lifted the massive creature into the air with little effort, the veins in his muscular arms bulging underneath his skin as he turned and slammed the beast into the cemetery of fallen cedar beside himself and the woman at his feet. A massive crater formed beneath its bulky, writhing body when it landed, the impact forcing the shattering of the earth beneath them to deepen and worsen dramatically.

With ease, he tugged strongly on the demon’s arm until it riiipped and tore from its socket. The atmosphere filled with its ear-shattering screech as blood splattered through the air with his curt yank of its enormous arm, but Akaza was unconvinced. He tossed the dismembered appendage into the woods as the beast roared in outrage and began to stand itself up, but before it could get itself very far, he had stomped his foot down ruthlessly on its chest, crushing bones beneath its skin from the force of the leisure blow. He pushed and pushed until the struggling monstruous being was buried in crackling earth. Meanwhile, its remaining arm attempted to reach for him and the woman while the other slowly began to regenerate at the bloodied stub. Promptly, Akaza gripped at its wrist, his fist crushing the bones in the demon’s arm as he, once again, ripped it from its socket as easy as ripping a paper in two.

“You’re new,” He let out in a low, husky, rough tone, eyes wide and staring into the mindlessly violent gaze the demon stared back into his as its own blood steadily began to pool in its crater. “So, I guess your stupidity in thinking you can rush into my space to take something from me is something you can do without an issue makes sense – but that isn’t the case anymore, is it?” He cocked his head to the side, raising his foot and stomping it back down onto the struggling, incoherent demon beneath him. Its bellows had never stopped from the moment Akaza had pinned it to the ground, the sound rattling the foundation of the forest, but it didn’t affect the Upper Moon in any way other than through annoyance and rage.

“I should give you a warning,” He mused, tutting as his foot stomped into the beast once again, forcing its chest to cave in on itself, blood pooling much faster in its crater; a morbid puddle of grotesque proportions. “Let you off with a tap on the wrist,” He reached down, eyes widening up further as the frown on his face deepened when his hand came to grip at the demon’s scraggly head of hair. It came off as though it had been a man before it was turned, and naturally, that made it even more enraging to him. Roughly, he tugged on the demon’s hair, forcing it to raise its head to properly look at him in the midst of its feral, bloody struggles. “That sounds fair, doesn’t it? Maybe I would have if it had just been me. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought twice about you. Maybe I would have let you scurry off without a second thought – but it’s not just me, is it? No, it isn’t. You came out here and charged at her, didn’t you?” He nodded his head, answering his own question as he reached down with his free hand to grip onto the beast’s jaw which hung wide at its snapping, open maw.

“Yeah, you did.”

Mercilessly, his grip tightened on its jaw and yaaanked backwards, tearing the bone and flesh right off of its skull in his iron grip. “You wanted to attack her, didn’t you? Eat her alive? Swallow her whole? Alleviate that disgusting salivation dripping from your mouth? Can’t say I’m surprised, but really,” He laughed humorlessly, tossing the bloodied jaw in his hand into the forest. “You should seriously know better with me here.” Pulling his bloodied foot out of the demon’s concaved chest, Akaza let out a heated breath and scowled deeply. “You sicken me. I hope your regeneration is quick,” He remarked, looking towards the stubs of the demon’s arms and the unnatural groove in its chest where his foot had once been. They were yet to heal, leading him to believe its regenerative abilities were not that strong. A lesser demon in all regards. “You’re gonna need it. Now,” He reached down and grabbed at its twisting body, listening to the gurgled sounds it produced with the lack of a lower jaw. Lifting the beast into the air on both of his hands, Akaza planted his feet firmly on the ground once more, facing the forest ahead.

“Get the hell out of my sight!”

With a mighty heave, he sent the demon hurtling forward through the air, quickly colliding with a path of cedars, easily smashing right through several rows of the thick, ancient trees long before the beast came to a brutal stop a good distance away. Akaza maintained his readied fighting stance, bringing his hands to the ready in front of him in case the demon was senseless enough to look for an actual fight.

It seemed that the beast was smarter than he thought, though, because as soon as it landed, it scrambled on its pathetically bubbling limbs before rushing into the forest to disappear in the dark.

After that, the world plunged into silence once more.

Not even the sound of insects minding their business in their microscopic world could be heard.

The young woman stared up at the Upper Moon’s back with a widened, horrified gaze. She was a crumpled heap on the forest floor, completely at this demon’s mercy, and the spectacle he had shown the Plan B demon was something that caused ice to crystalize through her veins. If he could be that vicious to one of his own kind, what’s to say he wouldn’t be equally as cruel with her? What’s to say he wouldn’t toy with her and inflict as much pain on her as he could just to watch her writhe and cry until he eventually got fed up with her enough to let her die? He was enraged so easily, so quickly…How would it feel? To have his strong hands wrap his ink-dipped fingers around her extremities similarly to how his pearls ensnared his ankles until he crushed her bones? To have him stomp down on her until parts of her caved in? To have him hurtle her through bark and cedar until she was nothing but a mess of human flesh and blood being soaked up by the soil?

She came to Akaza for a quick, painless death – but had she miscalculated?

Would a lesser demon like the one he just pulverized into submission have been more merciful?

Will a confrontation with him be unbelievable agony?

Would she feel every single thing he did to her until the life seeped out of her, or would adrenaline sink in and numb some of the pain by the time things got that bad?

The tears started flowing again, dripping down her chin and clinging to her eyelashes until she blinked them away. Her body started trembling violently as Akaza straightened to stand normally once more. When he turned to face her, a pitiful whimper forced itself out of her lips, her instincts making her kick her heels into the dirt to push her a few feet away from him uselessly.

COWARD, COWARD, COWARD! THE OTHERS HAD IT A MILLION TIMES WORSE THAN YOU! FACE YOUR FATE! ACCEPT THE CONSEQUENCES YOU SO RIGHTFULLY DESERVE!

When he started walking towards her, easily stepping over the carnage of blood and cedar, her heart sank for the millionth time tonight. It was happening. It was finally happening. He was going to heed to her request. He was going to give her what she came to him for – whether it was for better or for worse. Her crying came out broken and choppy now, her chest quickly puffing in and out from how hard it was for her to maintain a composed breath. When he was standing right in front of her, she shut her eyes tightly and allowed her head to hang low again, her shoulders heaving as she waited for the inevitable.

Several long, agonizingly slow seconds passed where nothing happened. She felt nothing, sensed nothing, heard nothing. She didn’t know what was scarier – the actual act of the kill or the anticipation for the blow that was to come. She supposed it wouldn’t matter either way soon enough.

The sound of crinkling leaves is what first broke the silence. The sound of movement. It was abrupt and didn’t last very long, but it was there and it was definitely caused by Akaza. Then, all of a sudden, in the dark of her tightly blocked vision, she felt his hands gently brushing his fingers along her wet cheeks until her face was cupped in a pair of roughly calloused, warm palms slickened with blood. A moment after, the feeling of his thumbs brushing her skin and painting it red tantalized her senses, causing for the eruption of gooseflesh to spread all over her arms. Despite the morbidity of it, the gesture from the demon somehow felt so…gentle. Soft. Tender. Almost…kind.

Could that even be real? Could that seriously even happen? A kind demon? A demon kind towards a human?

She knew of Nezuko’s existence, but from her vague understanding of the circumstances, she was a special case.

Akaza was in an entirely different category all on his own, not to mention his ranking with the twelve Kizuki.

No, this kind touch has to be a cruel joke…His palms, rough-skinned from his training and stained crimson from his brief, sadistic fight, cupping her tear-stricken face with this level of…compassion? Comfort? She didn’t even know how to label the feeling, but it was definitely something she had never envisioned herself labeling upon a demon’s touch.

Was he toying with her? Giving her a false sense of safety before he’d rip her head clean off of her body the way the Slayers’ blades cleanly sliced those of the demons off of theirs? After all, through the touches, she still felt that blood being caressed softly on her face, a cold and honest reminder of what exactly she was dealing with. Though the thought terrified her of the unknown oblivion which waited beyond living, curiosity bested her fear and willed her to open her eyes to look upon the world one last time.

Before her, Akaza had gotten on his knees to better stare down onto her frightened expression with a look of perplexed curiosity of his own. She struck what felt like olden memories in his head by the way she cried and sniveled. The sound strummed cords in him he didn’t know existed, long since dissolved in a past he couldn’t be entirely sure was once reality or something his dreams came up with when he rested in refuge away from the light of day – and now, as he gently stroked the skin of her face out of his own curious nature, the feeling brought other unknown instincts to life in him.

It had always been his moral code not to involve himself with human women. He wasn’t to fight with nor eat any of them, because that was simply the way he chose to live his life. It was a moral code he fiercely followed – what first brought it upon him, he wasn’t so sure. When he looked at the Slayer before him now, however, the image of her crying, frightened state answered a few of his questions in choppy phrases. Nothing linked quite well just yet, but he knew from the look of her that she came off…defenseless. He knew there had to be something strong in her by human standards, of course, that would amount to her becoming a Demon Slayer, but it was more than that. It was just…something else he couldn’t put his finger on. A strong desire to save the life she was so desperate to throw away.

Why would I want to do something like that? His brow furrowed slightly at the thought, his perplexed expression deepening. I don’t know you. You’re just some random human woman who stumbled into me with a ridiculous request. Why would I care? If you were anyone else – any other man I’d faced – I would have ended you on the spot…but there’s something in your eyes. Something…there.

But it was gone before he could grasp it in his mind. The memory dissipated like dust, drifting into the dark of his subconscious, leaving him only with the woman in front of him to make sense of the strange, growing protective feeling he had swelling in his chest.

“No.”

“…N…N-no…?” She repeated meekly, her voice forced out of her throat in a cautious, shaken tremble.

“No, I won’t kill you.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion and her lips parted, taken aback, surprised by the sudden answer to what she had begged him for. She stared at him for numerous, silent moments through the blurring tears in her eyes, unable to shake off just how bizarre that sentence sounded coming from a demon’s lips. Any demon would’ve leaped at the easy catch she came to offer tonight – one of which quite literally did. She had been completely positive that Akaza would have been similar. Maybe not as mindless nor deranged, but she had been convinced he would’ve reveled in the chance to play with easy prey. So…

“W-why not…?”

Akaza didn’t respond. He simply stared at her, one of his bloodied hands sliding further back on her cheek to allow his fingers to weave through her (hair color) locks. His striking dual-colored eyes practically stared right into her soul from how intently he observed and drank her in.

“Relax,” He spoke in a soft murmur. “I won’t hurt you.”

As the words left him, he pulled his hand back from her hair and stiffened it tightly, fingers straightened, before bringing it down firmly over the back of her neck.

She barely had a moment to really register what had just happened. The only thing she was able to notice in those few seconds before she lost consciousness was the powerful blow to her neck and the gentleness in the demon’s eyes. After that, the world slipped out from under her, gravity taking its toll and greedily pulling her towards its core. Akaza, however, caught her against his chest, having brought his arms down to wrap them around her waist so he could properly hold her to his larger figure. For a moment, he just held her, staring at the forest floor as his bloodied hands stained her uniform and her head lulled onto his shoulder. Again, there was something there. Something poking at his subconscious. Knocking at the door of his mind, cooing at him in seductive whispers to open up, but the door disappeared as soon as he attempted to reach out to let it in.

He turned his head to look at the woman in his grip and he squeezed her in closer to himself. This human woman felt…soft all over to hold. Warm. Plush. It was something he was unused to in contrast to his rigorous training, finely toned physique and all of the battles and missions he had been sent on over the course of the centuries he’s lived through. She was the complete polar opposite of everything he knew, really.

Not wanting to dwell too long in the confusing thoughts, he shook his head clear of them, bringing his focus back to the here and now. He stood up with her in his arms, shifting her in his grasp until he had her cradled in both of his arms up against his chest with her head resting on his bicep. Once he carefully settled her in, he began walking deeper into the forest of whispering cedar.

Any other demon would’ve devoured her on the spot, but he had no such desire.

For now, he had to get her the hell out of the forest to start saving her life.

Saving her life…What a strange thing for a demon to consider.

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Thank you so very much for making it this far! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to my fic! c: I appreciate it tons and I hope you're all doing well on your ends of the world and that you guys have loving support systems <3 Much love and hugs, God bless you all! \nwn/ <3

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